Play@YSDC

Cecil finds himself rolling over in his bed and feeling that the train has come to a halt. There is a queer red glow through the windows that paints the inside of the compartment in some garish comparisons and colours.

"What the blazes?!" Cecil sits up and looks at the lights with consternation. "That's no regular sodium bulb lighting; oh dear, 'Hell is empty and all the devils are here.'" He quickly gets to his feet and dresses in his day suit. He pulls out his revolver and the wallet from under the pillow and checks he has loaded the gun, he puts both in his pocket. He then grabs his shaving mirror and uses it to recce through the window without revealing himself.

The world outside is rent with reddish light with an orange hue, while patchwork boulbous black bodies like pulsating maggots infused with essence of leech, undulate through the air. (SAN 1d4 / 1d8). The trees are nothing but patchworks of ichorous black bark which whips and shudders as though tasting the air and thickly resinous orifices like munching mouths that are thankfully too smally reflected to be truly seared into the brain for what they truly are. The world out there is torn, sundered, and a steady vibration can be felt echoing through the train as though something huge yet out of sight were making its slow way past on the other side of the train.

And the smell ... a queer chemical smell like burnt ants and tee tree oil, which quirks at his nose, seeming all the stronger as he gazes out there into that terrible beyond.

"Oh lord oh lord." Cecil breaths, "Am I dreaming? Alas I fear not. Have I slept through the start of the war? Nor that I think." He peers through the mirror trying to fathom what has happened and where he might be. "'Tis an unwholesome sight, I'm rather glad to view it second hand. Am I the only one?" Cecil has an uneasy feeling considering what happened yesterday. He takes his gun in hand, checks it is loaded with extra ammo in his pocket and then pads to the door. He listens first and then quietly opens it to peer into the corridor.



Edited the colour

The corridor is clear and empty. All of the doors are closed, with swastikas scorched into the wood panelling.

Cecil checks his watch, wondering how long he was asleep for; it seems only ten minutes since he was brushing his teeth. He looks uneasily at his own door to see if there's a swastika on it too. he listens hard but can't really hear much so he walks along to the Al-Rassam compartment and knocks quietly on the door. He wonders what happened to Garcon too.

His watch has stopped at 11:32.