Small Town in the Mountain

 

“Okay, guys, I’ll see you soon,” you said before hanging up and completely turning off your phone. The train you had boarded started to move. As the vast countryside unfolded around you, a sense of unease spread over you instead of the blanket of calm you usually experience when traveling. You did not know what to do, so you just sat still and kept looking out the window. What else can you do on a train? The sun then set, and eventually, sleep overtook you. When you woke up, the feeling of unease was still there, and you were not where you thought you were going to be. You are on a mountain, far from the flat countryside you thought you would be. The night sky was full of stars, and you could see fog gathering in the valley below.

“I must have boarded the wrong train,” you thought. Oh, well. There’s nothing you can do about it now. “Might as well have an adventure,” you said aloud. No one turned to look at you. You almost turn your phone on to call your friends that you were supposed to meet, but for some reason, you just pocketed it. You got off at the first stop, a small town in the mountainside. You were the only person to get off the train there, but that does not put you off your little adventure just yet. The town has a navy blue-ish hue in the night, which is beautifully eerie against the golden lights shining from the windows of the surrounding houses and seeming to emanate from all the people passing by. You start walking, looking for a hotel or an inn so you can stay until the next train comes, hoping that you’re walking towards the city center. The passerby glance at you and quickly look away. They are whispering something, but you cannot hear, but something tells you that everyone knows you are here and everyone is talking about you. On nearly every gate of a suburban home you pass by, there’s a sign that says “No Smilers Here” or some variation thereof. The fog from below has risen and now covers the town. As you approach the center, using the warm glow from buildings to navigate, you spot illuminated signs that hang on public buildings, saying, “NO SMILERS ALLOWED. If you see a smiler, please DO NOT report” and a sign next to that saying, in much smaller text, “Simply stay calm, say a polite greeting, leave the room, and start the chant. It’s so easy, a child could do it!”

“Huh,” you said to yourself. “What a quaint town!” You reach into your pocket to pull out your phone and dial your friends, but a force keeps your hand in your pocket. You have learned to accept the forces of the universe, as everyone has. And, in the center of the town, you spot and inn and head towards it. As soon as you enter, you are silently handed a key by a clerk you did not notice, which is beautifully decorated in a lotus pattern. It says your room number, so you head there. Your room consists of a desk, a closet, and one large bed. At this point, you are so tired, so you go sleep, even though the initial unnerving feeling has still followed you all the way from the train.

A rustling sound wakes you up in the middle of the night. You turn to see where the sound is coming from, and you see another person, in another bed. You’re lying in a smaller bed than you had fallen asleep in. Your room seemingly changed into a double room overnight.  “Hello?” you say politely. Your new roommate just waves and grins. They have too many teeth, or maybe their smile is just too wide. Nevertheless, you are uncomfortable. Your roommate breathes heavily. Is it just you, or do your roommate's proportions look wrong? Arms and legs just a little too long, and they’re just a little too tall as if they’ve been stretched.

“Hello?” you ask again. Your roommate continues to smile and wave at you. “Are we sharing a room now?” Your roommate does not respond.

For some reason, you try to go back to sleep. “My roommate can’t hurt me,” you think, but you can’t shake the feeling that your roommate can. For some reason, you can’t stop thinking about the signs you saw outside. You remember. The ones about the Smilers. You don’t know what a Smiler is, but something tells you that your roommate may just be one of them.

In the morning, your roommate is still here, smiling oddly and waving at you, as if they have been doing that the whole night. You get ready for the day, your roommate continuing to smile and wave, only moving to face you wherever you walk around the room. You’re unnerved, so you go out and try to find the signs that tell you what to do if ever you should encounter a Smiler. However, all of the signs you saw night have disappeared. You try to ask a local where the signs went, but they look at you with fear in their eyes and shuffle away when you approach them. “He smells like he’s been targeted,” they mutter. You feel lost and scared.

“Help!” you cry out to the town. Everyone looks at you for a moment, and then they look away as if they just watched something tragic happen.

“Did you read the signs?” a young voice asked.

“I can’t remember them!” you shout.

“Oh,” the voice responds. “Sorry about that.”

You feel a presence behind you. It’s your roommate -- the Smiler. They smile, wider and wider and wider and wider and wider and wider until all you see is teeth and gum. You panic. You do not know what to do. You wish you never came to this town because you hate the feeling of fear you have deep within you, like a dark shadow growing larger and larger, clouding your mind and tunneling your vision.

The Smiler opens its mouth. You can feel the eyes of the whole town looking at you. You are paralyzed with fear. The Smiler’s mouth is all you can see. It’s breath smells like death. The last thing you see before the Smiler eats you whole is the faces of your friends you sorely wished you had visited instead of coming to this town. You cannot fight. You cannot even move, but you so badly wish you could reach out to someone who would save you. This is something you must accept. The Smiler opens its large, terrifying, smiling mouth --

 

You wake up on the train in a cold sweat. You look out the window and see the stars shining beautifully, but their comforting glimmer does nothing to settle the unease you woke up with. “Oh, it was all just a dream, thank god,” you say. You turn to pick up your phone on the seat next to you. As you do, you see the aisle across from you. Someone is sitting there. They smile and wave, but they look just a bit too long and tall to be human. You go to dial your friends and tell them about this friendly neighbor you have on the train, but your phone screen glows black, then fades to your background, a beautiful pattern of concentric circles, but the buttons are not functioning. Oh, well. “Hello!” you say to the stranger. “Are you enjoying the ride?”

The stranger does not say anything; they simply continue to smile and wave.