You boarded the Danube Dawn, a train so legendary, that people were willing to die to get on it. The whole queue to get on was almost 4 hours long, in the dark winter night shrouded in mystery and chatter. All the souls boarding the train were desperately pushing and pulling to even get a glimpse of something only a few niche communities would be fans of. Anyway, you got on the train and sat down, glancing out the window. Bat swarms fluttered out of the hollowed end of a tree, the moon in the darkened sky only making the scene much more poetically suspenseful than it already was. All of sudden, however, the loud clacking of heels could be heard echoing throughout the carriage. You sit up and look around, only to realise that you were the only passenger who booked a seat on that cart. The conductor, stitches all over her pale face and arms, holding out her left, specifically, arm. Her wrist was covered in, hopefully, tattoos, in what looked like a stitch pattern on it.

"Do you have your ticket? If someone stole it from you, I assure you, I can get it back for you."

She glared, piercing through your soul. Her voice wasn't forcefully stern or fierce, and there was no trace of anger or fury. It was as if that was her normal speech, and that was the most sincere she would ever sound. She held out a ticket clipper, one that would punch a hole through the ticket to show your status as a passenger on this legendary train.