October 22nd – Clive Barker – ‘The Midnight Meat Train’ (1984) – Read it here, or in volume 2 of The Books of Blood, a collection of Clive Barker short stories. Read the full challenge list here.
Bonus short story on a subway theme: ‘South Kentish Town‘ (1951) by John Betjeman. It has an abrupt, unfinished sort of ending. In this one, it’s more the absence of anyone and anything, of being trapped in the Underground, the howl of the trains punctuating the heavy silence, and nobody coming to get you.
This story is one of my favourites from Barker. It’s up there with “In the Hills, The Cities”, and “The Hellbound Heart”. I don’t know why I love this one so much, but I do, and also I enjoyed the film adaptation The Midnight Meat Train (2008) dir. Ryûhei Kitamura with Vinnie Jones, who is the best thing in it. (Kitamura also directed another of my favourite slashers, No One Lives, so maybe I’m a bit biased.)
Kaufman isn’t my favourite character in Barker’s fiction, and I find him a bit annoying – this, I think, is intentional. In the film he’s played by Bradley Cooper, who has that indefinable mildly annoying quality down, so that worked from my perspective.
I think this story was partly inspired by H.P. Lovecraft’s The Lurking Fear (1923), which has its own direct film adaptation that I find pretty entertaining (Lurking Fear (1994) dir. C. Courtney Joyner). If it wasn’t and I’m misremembering, it still gives me those vibes – something old and twisted that bears some semblance to humanity but is not human, living beneath us.
I liked the parallels between these two stories, anyway. I love the idea of New York as a Gothic Mansion or Haunted House, in which anything can happen. I also love the caveat emptor (Buyer Beware) element of the story from the first paragraph – how much the protagonist wanted to move to New York, thinking it would be some kind of paradise for him.
I also really like the way the city is described like a bad boyfriend you move across the country to be with, only to discover he ain’t all that.
I also see the classic ’70s and ’80s exploitation film influence in this story of Things in the Subway. I’m thinking particularly of Death Line (1972) dir. Gary Sherman, starring Donald Pleasence as Inspector Calhoun, and Christopher Lee as Stratton-Villiers of MI5. I liked that in The Midnight Meat Train, the top brass are… not to be trusted. I felt that gave the story a distinctly USian flavour of conspiracy, whereas in Death Line, (if I recall correctly, it’s been a while since I’ve seen this one) you get a bit of British class struggle encapsulated by Calhoun and Stratton-Villiers in their dynamics and interactions.
The tagline and short blurb for the film is:
Beneath Modern London Lives a Tribe of Once Humans. Neither Men Nor Women… They Are the Raw Meat Of The Human Race!
There’s something pretty grisly going on under London in the Tube tunnels between Holborn and Russell Square. When a top civil servant becomes the latest to disappear down there Scotland Yard start to take the matter seriously. Helping them are a young couple who get nearer to the horrors underground than they would wish.
I think this echoes the plot and title of The Midnight Meat Train quite well.
The other classic for New York is of course C.H.U.D. (1984) dir. Douglas Cheek, which came out the same year that Barker’s story was published, but uses the same urban legend of Things in the Sewers that I think Barker also borrowed from and reset in the Subway instead, which for a Brit is natural to do considering our versions of “Something in the Sewers” is “Something in the London Underground”.
More modern (21stC) versions of this, where the antagonist dwells beneath a city in the tunnel systems, and could be a human monster like a serial killer or some kind of humanoid monster, all with Gothic and/or Horror elements, include but are not limited to:
- Kontroll (2003) dir. Nimród Antal, a surrealist thriller set in the subway system of Budapest, Hungary
- Creep (2004) dir. Christopher Smith, set on the London Underground, UK
- 稀人 / Marebito (2004) dir. Takashi Shimizu, set in the subway system of Tokyo, Japan
- End of the Line (2007) dir. Maurice Devereaux, set in the subway system of Montreal, Canada
- Stag Night (2007) dir. Peter A. Dowling, set in the subway system of New York, USA
- Catacombs (2007) dirs. Tomm Coker, David Elliot, set in the catacombs of Paris, France
- The Tunnel (2011) dir. Carlo Ledesma, set in tunnels beneath Sydney, Australia
- As Above, So Below (2014) dir. John Erick Dowdle, set in the catacombs of Paris, France
Honourable mentions to Mimic (1997) dir. Guillermo del Toro, which missed out on being 21stC by 3 years. I’ll add it here anyway, and I guess to Split Second (1992) dir. Tony Maylam.
I haven’t included Bottom Feeder (2007) here, as while that one is set in tunnels, I haven’t seen it so I don’t know if the tunnels are under a city, or under something else. 2007 certainly was the year of Something Is Coming Up To Get Us fear.
Also, I’m not sure this fits, but Urchin (2007) dir. John Harlacher. Not technically Horror, but a Sci-Fi/Fantasy Action Thriller with some strong Gothic Horror elements, set in the tunnels beneath Manhattan, NY, USA, from the perspective of those living there.
There’s a paradise beneath New York City. Can you find it?
In a tunnel deep under Manhattan, the Old Man rules the citizens of Scum-City. He swears to lead them to a paradise within the hollow earth once he finds five noble souls; but until then his followers must steal and deal to support him. A terminally ill hunchback named Goliath, crazed by his approaching death, decides to find the five noble souls and present them to the Old Man; by beheading New Yorkers he deems worthy of the honor. Meanwhile, another Scum-City dweller known as The Kid tries to do the Old Man’s bidding, tangling with deadly gangsters and eccentric drug dealers – even though The Kid is only nine and his main weapon is a water pistol filled with acid. As both Goliath and The Kid pursue paths they believe will lead to paradise, they rob, kill; and inevitably confront each other in a grand showdown.
I have honestly never really been afraid of things in the subways or in tunnels, apart from the people and the tide of rats that spill out once everyone is gone, but I do enjoy train journeys, and I like subway horror. And it is genuinely eerie on the Tube (London Underground) at night, or even in the day but you’re almost alone. It’s so disconcerting.
Read on below for my creative short fiction set on the Tube.
If you made it this far, well done!
My creative response today is actually based on the rabbit hole this story sent me down regarding the London Underground, and its many ghosts.
I was watching the video on the Elephant & Castle hauntings, and Covent Garden’s most famous ghost. There is also C4’s 2005 documentary ‘Ghosts on the Underground‘, dir. Joe Kane, and narrated by Paul McGann. You can watch that below:
The Circle
Bethany sat quietly as the train screamed through the darkness outside. The Circle Line was treacherous – many a tourist got on the wrong direction, and wasted forty-five minutes going to a stop they could have reached in ten, if they had only been on the other platform. The carriage wasn’t full, but there was an anxious man in a pale blue jumper much too big for him, glancing agitatedly at the map above Bethany’s head. She averted her eyes in case of inadvertent contact, and wondered if that was what he had done, and his mistake was just dawning on him.
Next to her, two seats away, was an older Black lady with a carrier bag at her feet and a potted plant on her lap, and opposite her was a bored-looking young woman with large, shiny, red headphones like earmuffs, and a bright green coat, who had never once looked up from her phone, no matter how many stops had gone by. It was as if all she wanted to do was ride the Circle Line, and Bethany had no idea how long it had been since she had got on.
Further down the carriage was a group of about six or seven people clustered by the door, ignoring the empty seats. None of them were speaking to each other. Some had backpacks and others had small wheeled cases.
Bethany folded her arms as they pulled into the next station. Only two people got off – the agitated man in the blue jumper, and the lady with her carrier bag and potted plant. A young man in a suit got on, top shirt button undone, looking miserable.
One of the clustered passengers said something to someone, but the screaming metal and howling air stole away the sound. Bethany saw their lips moving, but no words carried the few feet to where she was sitting.
She glanced back to the young man in the suit – but he wasn’t there.
Weird.
He must have moved through the connecting door into the next carriage along.
This bothered Bethany, as she could have sworn there had been no movement in her peripheral vision, and she had not heard the slam of the door, but they had not stopped again yet and that was the only explanation for his sudden disappearance.
She settled back and waited for the next stop.
Nobody got off, but one person got on.
They came and took the seat opposite her, baggy blue jumper flapping over a far-too-thin frame as they swung themselves around the pole, and flopped into the seat. Bethany started. It was the same blue jumper. Not the same man, surely? He had gotten off at the stop before. Had she dozed off, and they had gone all the way around, and picked him up again? Or could he have gone on one stop on another train, ran to the platform, and picked this one up again?
That was impossible. She looked up, and his face was the same, but this time a ghastly blotched pale colour, washed out by the glare of the lights. He had the same shock of sandy hair, unkempt and unwashed.
She looked down again, her heart racing.
It was impossible. But it was equally impossible that she could have fallen asleep for a whole trip around the line, and not known it.
Bethany made an instinctive, fear-spiked grab for her bag, and checked it with prickles of anxiety bursting all over her. If she had been asleep, no-one had robbed her. Her purse, phone, keys – all were there, with squashed tissues that now were structurally integral to the bag’s lining, old lip glosses and lip balm she didn’t know were in there, an assortment of hair clips, a bobble, and some random tiny screws, a button, a blue plastic pen lid but no actual pen, and two sanitary pads in their purple wrappings.
Right at the bottom, as integral to the bag’s structure as the tissues, were three copper coins, the discarded card label from an item of clothing, and a wad of thin, paper receipts from an assortment of shops.
Nothing was disturbed.
Bethany clutched her bag tighter on her lap, more alert. Blue Jumper was agitated, just as before, glancing constantly at the map above her head.
There was something so unreal about his reappearance that she decided to follow the suited man, and head to another carriage. The train rocked and shuddered beneath her feet as they tore around a gentle curve, and she made her unsteady way along the aisle to the connecting door, bag firmly gripped in one hand.
The next carriage along had no sign of the suited man, but there were some people here, a handful of them, all seated with plenty of space between each other. Bethany took a seat, too, leaving two seats free between herself and her nearest neighbour, a hijabi lady with her head bowed over a magazine.
The train lurched to a screeching halt at the platform, still three stops from Bethany’s, and a quiver of green caught her eye from right at the other end of the carriage.
A Black lady sat there, potted plant on her lap, a carrier bag at her feet.
This was easier to explain – the lady had got off at the wrong stop, instantly realised her mistake after walking the length of the carriage, and got back on via the nearest set of doors.
As the train pulled off, with Bethany now facing the platform, she saw the man in the blue jumper staring at her through the window, standing a little too close to the train. The accidental eye contact made her stomach flip over, but he kept staring, then took a single step backwards.
The train pulled off.
Bethany looked to her neighbour, but the woman hadn’t been looking; she was flipping the glossy pages of her magazine with an unbothered expression, and Bethany didn’t know what to say. She noted the thin white wires of earbuds going from the woman’s bag to the head covering, where they disappeared at ear level, and decided against asking her anything.
She hugged her bag instead, not knowing what to do.
Three stops. She counted them anxiously, and it seemed like the train was taking an age to get to each one.
Bethany got to her feet with some relief, but the stop wasn’t hers. Had she, like the thin man in the blue jumper, gone the wrong way around the line? She was now twelve stops away, if they were heading in the direction she thought they were.
Blinking heavily, Bethany overcame her social awkwardness and waved to attract her neighbour’s attention. The woman took an earbud out, turned to her, and smiled.
“Hi, where are we?” Bethany asked, knowing she sounded like a tourist. “Do you know which direction we’re going in?”
Her neighbour nodded. “East.”
Bethany had been certain she had gotten on the Westbound train.
“Where are you getting off?” she asked.
“Next stop.” The woman frowned slightly. “Are you ok? Do you need help getting somewhere?”
“I might get off with you and get a taxi,” Bethany said, suddenly craving fresh air, and the silence of the trains.
She followed the woman to the doors, and when they careered into the station, Bethany couldn’t wait to get off. The air of the platform, as unsavoury and warm as it was, made her sigh in relief. They were still deep underground, but the solidity of the platform was better than the spiralling track of the train.
She lost her neighbour in the crowd leaving the platform, and glanced back into the carriage she had left. There, with his back to the window, stood the man in the blue jumper.
Bethany hurried through the people pressing for the exit, and nearly ran along the brightly lit tunnels to the escalator.
She needed to be out – out of the electric-lit dark, the unnatural glaring brightness, the howls of the trains, and the press of strangers. Which of these strangers were even real people, and which were strange copies of people, uncannily appearing where they should not be? How many of these passengers were passengers at all, and how many were echoes of passengers, going around and around the tunnels and trains, filling the seats and never really leaving?
Bethany clutched her bag and the rail of the escalator, the rubber unpleasantly sticky. Not long now, and there would be daylight, and fresh air.
She closed her eyes, dizzy.
When she opened them again, she had reached the top.
At last.
Bethany got off the escalator, turned to the exit, and stepped out on the platform where she had first got on the Circle Line.
The train pulled in, causing a rush and a suck of air to blast her full in the face, as she hugged her bag for comfort. It was the Westbound train.
Automatically, the doors slid open, and automatically, Bethany got in, and sat down in the row of seats facing the platform.
A thin, pale man in a blue jumper was three seats down, and an older Black lady with her potted plant on her lap was still waiting on a bench on the platform, sitting next to a girl absorbed in her phone, wearing red headphones and a bright green coat. They were clearly waiting for the next train.
A young man in a suit ran for the doors, and just made it on.
Bethany dropped her eyes, not wanting to make unnecessary eye contact with her fellow passengers. She would be home soon – not many stops to go.
The train screamed in the darkness.
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