I Worked Overnight Security at an Abandoned Subway Station — Something Was Down in the Tunnel

The Last Shift at Blackwood Station
There's this one moment, it's always 3:14 AM, when you're standing alone on a train platform, and it's really quiet. But it's not a peaceful quiet, it's more like a heavy feeling that's just hanging in the air. The old lights above are humming, like they're about to flicker out, and in the distance, you can hear water dripping slowly through the concrete. It's a steady sound, not loud, but it's always there.

I landed a temporary gig at Blackwood Station, an old subway stop on the outskirts of the city, last winter. It was a pretty simple job - just me, keeping an eye on things to make sure nobody tried to break in or set up camp while the city decided what to do with the tunnel, whether to tear it down or renovate it. My duties were straightforward: take a stroll down the platform every hour, log my check-in, and stay behind the chained-up gate at the end of the southbound track - that was the one rule I had to follow.

What really got to me at first was the monotony of it all - everything just seemed so dull. This dragged on for about three weeks, which felt like an eternity. To pass the time, I had packed some books to read and I spent hours listening to podcasts. I also developed a bad habit of drinking way too much coffee from a thermos I had with me, but it was never really hot, just lukewarm.

Everything changed on a Tuesday night in February.

The Footsteps on Track Two
It was 2:45 AM and the station suddenly turned icy cold. I could see my breath in the faint light of the booth, which was a pretty good sign of just how chilly it had gotten. At first, I figured the big door to the stairs must have swung open, so I grabbed my flashlight and headed out onto the platform to take a look.

The stairway door was locked up solid. Not a soul was in sight, the entire station was empty and quiet.

Then, I heard the gravel crunching.

The noise wasn't coming from the waiting area - it was actually coming from the dark tunnel beyond the locked gate on Track Two. What was weird was that you could clearly hear the sound of heavy boots walking slowly on the old wooden tracks. It was a slow and steady rhythm: a loud creak, then a pause. Then another creak, followed by another pause.

"Hey, hold up!" I yelled, shining my light through the fence. You're not supposed to be here, so come out now and show me your hands!

The footsteps just stopped. My flashlight didn't shine very far, only about fifty feet, and the tunnel was really dark. It lit up old rails that were all rusty and brick walls that were wet. Then the light just disappeared into the dark. Nobody stepped into the light.

I was frozen in place, my heart racing like crazy. I was getting ready to head back to the booth when I picked up on this strange noise. It was a quiet whisper, but it didn't seem to be coming from anyone. The sound was kinda like when dry leaves scrape against the ground, you know, all rough and scratchy.

"You forgot to lock the door."

What Was Waiting in the Booth
I got really scared and just stood there for a second. Then I didn't bother checking the gate, I just took off running back down the platform to the security booth. What I wanted to do was call for help and let them know someone was in a place they weren't supposed to be.

I rushed into the booth and threw the door open, then slammed it shut behind me and locked it. I was breathing really hard, so I reached for the phone - but I just froze.

I had my thermos sitting next to the phone, and I remembered pouring coffee into it six hours before. But when I took a look, I was surprised to see that the lid was off and the coffee was still steaming away. You'd expect it to be cold by then, right? Anyway, the steam was still coming up from the top, and the smell of fresh coffee was really strong. It was pretty amazing that it was still so hot after all that time.

I looked up at the security screen on the wall. My eyes landed on the camera view of the southbound gate - the same place I had just left. And that's when I saw him - a super tall and skinny guy in an old conductor's uniform from the 50s. He was standing right in front of the bars, his head bent in a strange way, staring directly into the camera. It was pretty creepy. The uniform looked really worn out, like it had been through a lot. He just stood there, frozen, like he was trying to see something on the other side of the lens.

As I looked out the window of the booth, I noticed the platform was completely empty - not a soul was around. Nobody was in sight.

I looked back at the screen and the person had moved closer, they were about halfway down now, still staring straight at the camera with their eyes fixed on it. They hadn't looked away.

I got out of there as fast as I could. I unlocked the door and sprinted up the stairs, taking them three at a time - I just wanted to get away. I kept running until I was a couple of blocks away, where the streetlights were shining bright. I never bothered to go back for my last paycheck, I just didn't care. And if you look at the city's transit map now, you'll notice something's missing - Blackwood Station is gone, it's no longer on the map.