Here's another very long story, in its own block, in keeping with the style of the previous ones—dark, gothic, and slowly building like a storm:---# **29. "Voices from the Box Tunnel" – The Story of Those Who Never Left the Underground**

In Wiltshire lies one of the most unusual and ominous structures in England—the **Box Tunnel**, a former section of the Great Western Railway.

Built in the 19th century, over 1.7 miles long, fast, dark, and cold as the Cotswolds itself, it inspired fear among train drivers and workers for decades.

There were tales of **Echoes** that weren't echoes.

Of footsteps that had no owner.

Of voices that knew your name before you heard them.

But the oldest story concerns **Worker No. 47**—a man who never emerged from the tunnel, though he was seen there for hundreds of years after his death.

--

## **I**

The year is 1841.

John Elbury, a young laborer hired to dig the Box Tunnel, spent his days in the stifling, dark interior of the rock. Dampness seeped in everywhere, hammers struck the stone constantly, and candles were extinguished by the slightest breeze.

The work was hard, but well-paid.

John always said,

"If this tunnel is to unite light with darkness, then I want to write my name in it."

Little did he know then how ominously prophetic those words would become.

### **II**

During one of those long days, as the workers chipped away at large chunks of rock, tragedy struck. A minor cave-in occurred deep within the unfinished tunnel. Several workers were injured, others escaped, but one was buried.

John Elbury—Worker No. 47—was closest to the epicenter of the landslide.

The rocks buried him before anyone could warn him.

Machines immediately moved in to clear the area, but the rock was too heavy, and the situation too dangerous.

After two days of searching, John was pronounced dead.

However, his body was **never found**.

### **III**

After work resumed, something began to happen.

First, workers reported hearing a gentle tapping on the walls, as if someone were knocking from inside, pleading for help.

Then came whispers.

Some they recognized—they sounded like John's voice, saying:

"I'm still here..."

"Don't leave me..."

"The world is still calling me..."

Workers began refusing to work at night. Some stopped coming altogether.

Engineers attributed the sounds to natural echoes, but echoes don't speak in human words.

### **IV**

When the tunnel opened, the engineer operating the first run claimed to have seen a man's figure in the semidarkness while passing under the lamplight.

He stood motionless against the wall.

He stared blankly.

And then... he disappeared, as if the light had engulfed him.

Passengers reported a strange sensation of heat that suddenly turned to cold.

Some claimed their vision blurred for a moment, and they saw the interior of the tunnel... as it had been during its construction.

But these words were never overstated—until one day, an engineer named Donovan Butler decided to see what was really happening.

### **V**

Donovan was a pragmatist.

He didn't believe in ghosts or cursed tunnels. When he heard the story of Worker No. 47, he decided to prove it was just superstition.

One night, he stopped the train in the middle of the tunnel and got out with a lantern.

The entries in his journal, later found in the cab, were unsettling:

> "When I turned off the engine, the tunnel was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat...

> then I heard another... not mine."

Donovan set off on foot into the darkness.

After a moment, he saw what he was looking for—the outline of a man, his arms covered in rock dust.

The figure stood still.

"Who are you?" Donovan asked.

Then the figure slowly turned.

Her face was half human, half... stone.

As if her body had fused with the tunnel wall.

Her lips moved, and her voice echoed in the bowels of the earth:

"Why did you leave me...?"

Donovan's lantern went out.

The man screamed.

And then there was absolute darkness.

The train was found the next morning.

Donovan sat in the cab but didn't react.

His eyes were wide open—as if he were looking at something he shouldn't have seen.

For years to come, he never said a word.

### **VI**

Railway workers began claiming they saw "someone" in the tunnel, walking along the tracks before each run.

They said:

"He's checking to see if the road is clear."

"He's trying to warn us."

"He's trying to get out."

One engineer testified that the figure sometimes walks right in front of the train, waving his arms as if trying to stop the oncoming train.

But as soon as the headlights illuminate the tunnel, he disappears.

### **VII**

Today, the Box Tunnel remains active, but engineers are not allowed to stop trains inside.

Walking there is also prohibited, even during the day—officially for safety reasons, but unofficially... for something else.

People say that at night, deep in the tunnel, you can hear the sound of a hammer striking the rock.

Always three strikes.

Always as regular as if someone were still working there.

Some have reportedly seen a stone-faced man leaning out of the shadows, watching them for a moment, then retreating deeper into the wall.

It is said that **Worker No. 47** is still trying to escape.

That he is tunneling not through stone, but through time.

And someday, one night, he will find his way to the surface.

And then he will no longer seek help.

He will seek those who allowed him to die.

And behind them... anyone who listens to the darkness for too long.

--