#ghost engine

[nova-blues]

Ghost engines, oh yeah they exist, might as well at this point

[hazel-of-sodor]

Christmas 2025-Lightbringer

Warning: Screech doing Eldritch Horror things

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The yard at Uman was covered in a good foot of snow. The station shone merrily with lights and all the engines were settling down with the limited services of the day. Screech was humming quietly as Mali and Miss Lewis polished her nameplates, Abbey sipping at a barrel of cappuccino alongside her. Carys and Avon were reminiscing on the days of the old Uman and Din, with Hengi and Blaidd occasionally interjecting. Sarah and Enid were scheming in the corner, Screech over hearing something about snowmen. Beca was trying a roasted walnut Miss Morgan tossed her, and Gywn and Freda danced to the song from the radio on Ffion’s bufferbeam. It was a wonderful, peaceful evening…until the sky split.

Thunder cracked the heavens as golden light shone down like lightning, Caomhnóir bursting into view like a miniature sun, her golden light almost burning in its intensity. Screech instinctively shielded the others with her tendrils, noting the tank engine seemed to haven't noticed her own arrival. 

“It is ENOUGH!” The guardian thundered, “let them burn beneath her light if this is their true colours! My patience only stretches so far, and it is gone!” Whereas Screech’s voice normally echoed from a thousand angles, the guardian's voices seemed to come from everywhere at once, the loose objects around the shed vibrating as she swore.

Abbey and Screech shared a glance, wondering just what had managed to anger the guardian to such an extent.

The tank engines crew hopped down, and looked no less thunderous than their engine, seemingly uncaring the edges of their hair glowed from her power, threatening to catch alight.

The whisper mused that Cassandra's rage was the most beautiful thing they had seen besides Abbey. Screech absently reminded it that it had felt the same about the sandwich from the new shop in Draethell earlier in the week, before turning her attention to the raging guardian before her.

“Just who shall we be burning?” She rumbled curiously, stretching her valve gear and tendrils in preparation.

The guardian’s eyes swung to her in surprise, 

“Screech?”

So Screech had been right and she had not realized where she was.

“Indeed. I had wondered if you had meant to come here.”

“No.” Cassandra breathed frustratedly, “I just needed to get away before I hurt one of the others, so I asked the Lady to take me away.”

Now that it was mentioned, there was a heaviness in the air, and the scent of steam, as if something greater was watching them.

Cassandra focused on the tracks in front of her, trying to dim her light, but it only grew brighter with her frustration.

“Douse me,” she finally hissed, “before I lose control.”

Screech obligingly reached out her tendrils and wrapped the smaller engine in an embrace, channeling as much as cold through them as she could. Mali walked up, wreathed in her own tendrils and sat on Cassandra's bufferbeam, gently stoking her cheek as the engine began to slowly calm.

“Now,” Screech rumbled, “who are we burning?”

Cassandra looked up, angry golden tears tracking down her face, “all of them. Every last one. I have shown too much mercy to the other railway, it is time to end it.”

Screech hummed, shaking the ground beneath them. “In the morning.”

“I figured you of all engines would be thrilled by this,” Cassandra snapped.

Screech snorted, “I am. however…” She laid a gentle tendril over the tank engine's mouth to keep her from interrupting, “I value your sanity more than the idea of a slaughter that I am perfectly capable of carrying out on my own.”  She gently tapped Cassandra's nose with one of her tendrils. “And make no mistake, this would break you.’

Cassandra shivered with pent up emotion, “not doing it might.”

Abbey gently rolled forward and buffered up to Cassandra, Mali coupling the two engines together. “Then tell us what has happened, and it will either ease your pain, or we will help you plan the fall of heavenfire upon your enemies.”

Abbey gently pulled Cass into her berth as the tank engine wrestled with her thoughts.

“We heard a Class 40 was on the run.” She finally said.

Ffion frowned, “they're not to be withdrawn for a few years yet, right? Why would they outright run, surely they could have disappeared before anyone realized?”

“I thought it was strange too,” Cassandra admitted, “but we managed to intercept them a few hours out…they…they…” 

“They had found children,” Samantha took over for her engine, her voice sharp. “Their controller had lost his wife a few years ago, and had since racked up debt gambling and drinking” The driver's teeth gritted hard enough to be heard, she shook her head. “he planned to use his children to pay off his debt. He hadn't counted on the class 40 overhearing, she took them and ran.”

The engines of the Uman and Din were deathly silent for a moment, the crews holding their breath, knowing just how protective engines tended to be over children.

Screech’s form flickered as her rage joined Cassandra's, a shape just out of their vision towering over the sheds. “And just where is that abomination now?” She rumbled, malice dripping off her tone.

Nicole’s answering grin was all teeth, “burned to ash beneath the Lady’s light. He caught up to us near Carlisle. He didn't see Caomhnóir until she hit him with the light.” Her smile sharpened, “it wasn't quick.”

“Good.” Screech rumbled, the other Uman engines chorusing agreement.

“The children don't know,” Cassandra mused, “I sent the Class 40 ahead when they drew close. I just told them he had been dealt with.”

She shook her head trying to clear it, “I handed them all over to Gordon at Barrow. I held it long enough to see Gordon across the bridge onto Sodor proper…”

“Then the Lady brought you here,” Abbey soothed, “where you were safe to lose control.”

“And with an engine that can find his associates,” Freda agreed.

Cassandra met her eyes, “they will be destroyed,” she warned, “I can do no less.”

“I expect they won't survive Screech finding them,” Miss Morgan said firmly, “and if in the morning you still feel it's time to tear down the other railway, then we'll stand by you.”

“If?” Cassandra said incredulously.

Miss Morgan strode up to the Lady's champion and looked her in the eye as she gently cupped her cheek. “You are a protector, not a destroyer my dear. While I have no doubt you would destroy his associates if Screech was unable, you are not one to burn it all down, or you would have long ago. You were chosen as a shield, not a sword. Now, it's almost Christmas and let's put these thoughts aside till morning. I'll go let Topham know the situation and that you'll be here for a bit.”

“...yes Miss Morgan.”

***

In an abandoned warehouse south of London, a group of beasts argued. Their associate was supposed to have arrived hours ago. The news was grim. His car had been found, smirking at a spot where ash had been stained into melted concrete, saying with a dark chuckle, “I never believed the tin cans, but the Lady does indeed protect.”

“Bast it! We'll have to leave soon,” the leader swore. “He’s gonna get us…”

He was cut off as something grabbed his leg and snatched hard enough the others heard the bone snap. 

Even as he struggled onto his knees, blood pouring from his broken nose, shadows rose around them, long, dark, and sinuous.

The temperature dropped low enough it began to burn on their exposed skin, their breath freezing in the air and falling as broken shards. The air fractured into a thousand thousand pieces as if they stood within a broken mirror.

“It is FAR too late for that.” a voice rumbled, echoing around them, twisting their insides as it passed through them from a thousand angles. More than one of their noses and mouths bled from the force of the voice.

Behind them a form rose, somehow both within the warehouse, and towering far, far above it.

Eyes, countless eyes, and teeth beyond number glistened even as the warehouse was cast into darkest midnight.

The men shook, their minds shearing at the glances of the form before them.

“Goodbye.”

***

Miss Morgan strode into the yard, her eyes quickly finding Cassandra being scrubbed by the cleaners as she chewed on one of Screech's spare strips of metal, the berth next to her occupied by a clearly self satisfied Screech, who was licking teeth that appeared impossibly sharp, even for her. Good, the filth has been dealt with then.

She approached the two, tossing Screech a warm roll and setting Cassandra’s on her running board. “From Sir Charles Hatt,” she explained, “for a job well done.”

She locked a firm glare on Cassandra before could reply, “and he said not to apologize for disappearing. He had to excuse himself after learning what had happened, and he didn't have to, in his words, ‘deal with the filth himself’. He said to take as long as you need, your work is covered.”

“How is Gordon?” Cassandra asked quietly, “he would not have taken the news well.”

“He set a new eastbound record for goods… and westbound. He wishes Screech happy hunting.”

Screech rumbled proudly.

“How are you feeling?” Miss Morgan asked Cass gently.

“Wrung out,” Cassandra admitted, “I haven't lost it like that since…maybe the end of steam.” She winced, "a lot of that time is a blurr.”

“We told you that you were pushing yourself too hard,” Abbey reminded lightly.

Cassandra shrugged carelessly ,”either I lost sleep to saving engines or couldn't sleep because of those I failed to save.”

“You need therapy,” Mali called from where she was checking the tank engines oil levels.

“I'll accept therapy when Screech does,” Cassandra replied dryly.

“Is that so?” Abbey said, raising an eyebrow.

Screech sighed, “now you've done it.”

Miss Morgan snorted, “you can bully Screech into therapy later Guinevere, for now we need to get Cass repainted so that the other railway isn't asking how Thomas got here overnight without being noticed.”

“New paint for Christmas,” Cassandra laughed, “James is gonna pop his safety valve when he hears.”

The sheds turned back to happier conversations of joy and the season, and for the moment, all was peaceful once more on the Uman and Din Railway.

A/N: Hello loves, despite work and sickness, I managed to slam together a Christmas special for this year. Love Y'all, and Merry Christmas!

[theflyingkipper]

at the end of an engine’s life, Lady will appear to shunt you, willing or unwilling, to your fate.

[synthetic-rust]

A redraw I suppose

[jackalopearts]

Post Apocalypse botanist concepts

[hazel-of-sodor]

Traintober25 Day 19 Middle of the Yard

Day 19-Purpose

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Screech simmered in the yard, the middle of the yard technically. The work of the yard moved around her like water around a rock. The workers could have asked her to move, but found working around her a more pleasant option than risk annoying the Eldritch giant who was wont to drop the air below freezing on a summer's day.

Now, in the middle of winter? It would be more honest to say the thought of disturbing Screech had failed to cross their minds than to say they decided against it.

A familiar whistle announced the arrival of the railway’s flagship locomotive. Screech didn't open her eyes, but did rumble in greeting.

Abbey fondly rolled her eyes, “you're blocking the track.” She said in exasperated amusement.”

Screech lazily laid a large tendril over the Star class’s boiler, warming her.

“If I was in the way, they would have told me as much.” She said simply.

Abbey gave the 2-8-0 a distinctly unimpressed look.

“I'm certain your habit of freezing the air around you when irritated had nothing to do with it.”

Screech actually opened her eyes to blink at Abbey. “Oh.”

Abbey closed her eyes and sighed, “You honestly didn't realize.”

The eldritch giant slowly stretched, her motion screeching together in protest, “normally the workers are not slow to tell an engine to move if they are in the way.” She grumbled as she lazily backed into a siding out of the way, Abbey joining her after one of the men had flipped a switch for her. “So I assumed their silence meant I was out of their way.”

“Begging your pardon Miss Screech,” the yard manager said, “it’s normally not cold enough to lose feeling in one's limb without angering you. Right now I would be truly afraid of losing a limb of your were to lash out…or at least some digits.”

Screech considered his words for a moment, “fair.”

Abbey snorted, “why were you parked in the middle of the yard anyway? There are places actually meant for us to rest.”

“There was a patch of sunlight, and I meant to enjoy it while it lasted.”

“And after?” Abbey asked, amused.

“I was comfortable, and no one asked me to move.”

“Can't you just move the clouds away so you can have sunlight where you want?”

Screech appeared to be actually considering the idea until Freda called out as she walked over from the workers hut, “Don't give her any ideas about controlling the weather! We've had enough trouble with it this year without that.”

Abbey chuckled as Screech sulked.

A/N: Hello Loves! The number one question I got before Traintober this year was would Screech make an apperance, so here she is, in all her slumbering glory. This takes place shortly after the end of Something Holy This Way Comes, and before paint it Black/Compromises in Colour. Love Y'all!

[hazel-of-sodor]

Traintober25 Day 21 Shadows and Giants

Day 21-Crowded

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Avon hadn't even been looking for Mali. While the humans all were worried because the girl had disappeared after the weekly therapy session, Avon had remembered Screech’s ability to sense everyone at long range, and was more than confident in Gwyllgi’s ability to watch over her wayward daughter.

In hindsight, that should have told her where Mali was.

Mali was draped like a shadowy bat across the top of the Eldritch 47s boiler, clearly exhausted and asleep despite the heat emanating from the boiler of an in-steam locomotive.

Screech appeared asleep herself, but many of her tendrils were poised alertly, as if on watch.

Sure enough several of them turned to face Avon, and the giant cracked open an eye to peer at Avon questioningly.

“I need the trucks on sliding three,” Avon whispered as quietly as she could.

Screech lazily stretched out a tendril and shoved the trucks forward till they met Avon's buffers, and her driver coupled them up.

“Thank you.” Avon whispered

Screech waved her off, settling back down to her rest.

Avon rolled off with her tricks as quietly as she could. If Mali needed time away from the humans, Avon was not going to be the one to reveal her.

Besides, Screech seemed to have the whole being a mom thing in hand.

[hazel-of-sodor]

Day 15-Compromises in Colour

Day 15-Star

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Abbey sat outside the works, resting after the mid-day express, waiting for Screech to emerge. It had taken several weeks, but the Night Owl and the works had finally come to an agreement on her paint. They had even bought books with different railway liveries in it for inspiration.

Screech's whistle sounded from the works, twisting and curling through the air, chilling Abbey’s frames.

Screech emerged from the works in a cloud of steam and tendrils, her new paint gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. The main colour, a shade of green so dark it was nearly black, had been found in a book on American locomotives, Brunswick Green of the Pennsylvania Railroad. When the Uman and Din contacted the Pennsylvania’s Altoona works for permission to use the paint, the PRR gifted the recipe to the U&DR for use on Screech. 

Abbey had to admit she was impressed, the dark shade suited Screech very well. Regal, yet understated, the dark tones contrasting nicely with the Great Western style lining and letter. She was also more than a little smugly satisfied at the words Uman and Din properly painted on Screech’s tender, marking Screech as theirs.

Screech looked up, meeting her eyes.

“You look wonderful.” Abbey said warmly. She noticed in the year since Screech arrived that the eldritch engine's opinion of herself was nearly as poor as her opinion of the other railway. Abbey was never going to let that stand, so took every chance to let her opinion of the wonderful engine before her be known.

Screech shifted uncomfortably, her tendrils moving closer to the ground in a way that Abbey was growing more and more certain was her partner's form of blushing.

“It was unnecessarily complicated.” The Night Owl said. “My old paintwork was fine”

Abbey fixed an unimpressed look upon the 2-8-0, “Would you have considered it fine for me?”

Screech blinked at her in the way that Abbey knew meant the engine had been caught off guard 

“No, I…”

“Then it was not good enough for you.”

Screech paused, reassessing. Abbey waited patiently.

“You're a passenger engine,” she rumbled uncertainly, “you're held to a higher…”

“No.” Abbey said firmly, “you know we don't treat any engines differently here.”

Abbey waited patiently for Screech's next rebuttal.

“I do not see the point.” Screech finally admitted with a sigh, “I am a goods engine. I will be covered in soot and dust by the end of the day. It's a lot of effort that will be undone on the first day.”

Abbey rolled her eyes fondly, “One would think you didn't know what a wash down is.”

She gently rolled forward and buffered up to Screech, “the effort is because they care for you. That's why it's worth it. They know you’ll be dirty again in minutes, but you are worth the effort.”

Screech gave her the monster in the headlights look she always had when someone declared they cared for her.

Abbey sighed fondly, “Come on, let's show Miss Morgan their hard work before you go play with trucks.”

“Very well.” 

Abbey rolled back towards the station, reminding herself a railway isn't built in a day. She couldn't help but smile when a tendril tentatively hooked around her coupled as Screech followed. One wheel at a time, they’d have Screech believing in herself again.