Mark,

I hope this letter reaches you in haste. We have been trapped aboard this train for two days now and there seems to be no sign of escape. I’m not really sure what’s going on, but I’m terrified. There is an almost frightening calm amongst everyone on board with the greatest emotional problem seeming to be mild annoyance. Logically, people should be freaking out, but they’re not. Instead, they’re all remaining unreasonably mild about all of this. I even saw an old woman happily knitting in the dark. Who happily knits in the dark!?

I know you think I’m often paranoid, but I honestly believe that some evil force has over taken this train and that I’m the only one who sees it. Everyone else is just brainwashed or worse; perhaps they’re all in on it. What if, perhaps, they all plot to kill me?

That was a close one. The postman just came by to take my letter. He claims he’s going to try to get help and deliver any messages free of charge, but I am on to their little ruse. I quickly hid this letter under my satchel simply told him that I do not have one to said. He looked at me funny and then continued on taking letters from the other passengers after asking if I was sure. Shit! That may have aroused suspicion. Stupid! I should’ve figured this out sooner and written a dummy letter to hand him. I may have just condemned myself. Surely they shall now suspect that I am on to them and will kill me first chance they get.

Dear Mark, I am going to attempt to make an escape by heading out the tunnel back the way we came. As soon as I reach civilization again, I shall send this letter to you along with an amendment at the end telling you of my situation wherever I end up. I pray that I won’t have to go into hiding again, but I fear that I shall need to make myself scarce once I make my escape. So if you don’t hear from me again after you receive this letter, you’ll know why.

Love,

Andrew Herman