A diver spotted a rusted train at a depth of twenty meters: what he found inside shook him to his core
He descended slowly, as if sliding into the past itself. Cold water enveloped him from all sides, silence rang in his ears, and the beam of his flashlight revealed only murky clouds and slowly swaying seaweed. Everything seemed ordinary—until a strange, massive shape flickered ahead.
At a depth of more than twenty meters, the diver saw something that took his breath away. Partially buried in sand and silt stood a train. A real, rusted train, wrapped in algae, frozen in eternity. Carriage after carriage stretched into the distance like a ghostly caravan.
He swam closer. The metal was corroded by time, but the outlines were still recognizable: wheels, doors, even the old handrail at the entrance. He shone his light downward—and saw the rails. They led straight into the darkness, into the abyss, as if the underwater track had no end.
He carefully climbed inside a car. The silence was so thick it felt alive. Inside, everything was covered in silt, and thin streams of sand trickled through the windows. Faint outlines of an old inscription appeared on the wall. He brushed away the layer of time with his fingers, and under the flashlight, the numbers emerged: “1953.”
The diver froze. Now he understood: before him was a train from the past. One of those that once ran along the old railway through the valley until the dam was built. Then the water rose, slowly and relentlessly, swallowing everything around—villages, stations, bridges. People left, but the trains remained.
He illuminated the carriage again. Benches that once held passengers were now covered in a thin layer of silt, and instead of the sound of wheels, only the gentle sway of algae remained. It seemed time had stopped here.
The diver surfaced silently. No words were needed—the depths had already told the story themselves. This train had become an eternal witness to a vanished era, a reminder of how quickly the living turns into silent memory.
At the bottom, where rails once clanged and human voices echoed, now reigned peace and quiet. Only the rusted carriage, lost underwater, still awaited its final journey—into the past.