It was late at night on the Isle of Purbeck, and Pipp had just finished for the night. Work on the new ballast project had run late, and the work had gone on for so long that she'd only just got back after stabling the trucks in the sidings at the station. Now she was looking forward to a nice day off to relax, possibly go to the spa, and maybe work on a new song. Or do a stream. Whichever felt sensible. Her fans were chomping at the bit for some new content, so to speak, and she was more than happy to provide it no matter what.

She slipped out of the shed and began to make her way down the path towards the house that she called home. It wouldn't make any sense to go into a house that she didn't live in, as the owners would likely complain. And that would never do.

She made her way further down the path when she suddenly heard a strange whistling noise. "Who's there?" she asked.

But nobody replied.

She shrugged. "Ah. Probably just the wind." She then continued on her way, made her way in through the door, and then closed it behind her before locking it with a key. She sighed, glad to be at home and safe from the outside world. She flicked on a light so she could see where she was going, and began to head into the lobby. She climbed the stairs inside, and glanced about. The closed curtains helped to keep the heat in, but the paintings were spooky. The eyes seemed to be following her as she walked, and that was very unnerving.

At last, she reached the first and second bends in the stairway, and turned left to head to her bedroom.

"BOO!"

Pipp shrieked and fell back against the wall, nearly landing against a painting in the process. "Zipp, what the heck?"

Zipp began laughing. "You should have seen your face!" she snorted.

Pipp leaned back to her feet. "At this time of day? Seriously?"

"Consider this payback for hiding all my trainers," Zipp replied. "Believe me, if you can't take it don't give it."

The conversation was suddenly interrupted by a door opening, and the familar face of Lady Haven popped out. "Phillipa! Zara! If you must make noise do it downstairs in the parlour. Some of us are trying to work."

"At this time of day?" Pipp asked. "Mom, it's almost ten!"

"I need to get this paperwork finished if I'm going to be able to attend Haunt on the Rails," Lady Haven pointed out. "And seeing as I'd prefer we do that as a family I'd suggest you stop monkeying around and either go downstairs or to bed." The door then closed.

"Guess that's our cue to go," Zipp said, and set off down the corridor. Pipp, on the other hand, went to her room and sat at her desk. A sheet of paper sat before it, as she had a cunning plan. She'd ask the others about it tomorrow."

"I'm just sick of her pranking me all the time!" Pipp exclaimed.

"In fairness, you also do move her stuff around without her permission," Sunny responded. "During the portrait preparations you did move all her favourite shirt to a place she couldn't find it. You know she hates wearing dresses; truth be told I'd pick jeans over a skirt any day."

"They're not too bad," Izzy added. "But if you're going to prank her back, you're doing it on your own. Somebody being mean to you does not give you the right to be mean back."

Pipp snorted. "If I don't do something it'll never end. And if that means doing it on my own so be it."

The others left the table, with only Misty being left. "I'd be willing to help," she said.

"Really?" Pipp asked.

"As long as it's nothing too dramatic, like pretending we're all zombies or dressing up in purple and pretending to be a superhero."

Pipp looked at her notes. "Nope! Nothing that dramatic!"

That day, over dinner at the Haven's ludicrously long table, Pipp and Zipp were seated together, as was the norm. The others were all busy enjoying their meals and having conversations about their day.

"So, how'd your streaming go?" Zipp asked. "How are the Pippsqueaks in Falmouth doing?"

Pipp smiled. "They really miss us. Seashell's been asking when we're coming back!"

"January, apparently," Zipp replied, as she put her fork into some of the meatloaf. "The local meat is pretty nice."

Pipp knew this was her chance. "You're working the old coast line, right?" she asked.

"Yeah. Charles and I have a short shipment to take to one of fishing villages down the coast near Weymouth," Zipp answered.

"Wayland?" Misty asked.

"Weymouth," Zipp answered. "Wayland is in Norfolk and has no rail connection. Funny story there; somebody was trying to move oil tankers from Barrow to there, but it turned out to be a typo in the manifest. The tankers were supposed to be going to Wakefield, which is in north Yorkshire."

"Anyway," Pipp said, "have you heard the story of Edgar?"

"No," Zipp replied.

Pipp leaned in closer so her face was framed by the electric candle between them. "One night in the 1930s, an engine was making a delivery along the line, taking refridgerated trucks from Bournemouth to Weymouth. But a terrible accident happened, and the entire train fell off a bridge and into the waters below. It is believed to this day that the engine, whose name was Edgar, can still be seen trying to cross the bridge. But he never reaches the other side."

Zipp looked unimpressed. "Pipp, if that was a true story I'm pretty certain I'd have found a reference to it in the archives by now."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Pipp smiled, as they continued.

Later, she and Charles were proceeding down the line towards Weymouth, along the old coast line. It was dark, and the moon's light was casting a sickly glow on the landscape. Charles glanced around him. "It's very quiet," he said. "That's never a good sign."

"Rather like in old Westerns," Zipp admitted. "It's always the sergeant who gets shot, though, even if the lieutenant says it."

"I see we've gone too long without a Dad's Army reference," Charles said. "Oh well. If we complete this run faster we'll be back to Swanage quicker, and back in relative warmth."

But as they approached a bridge on the return trip, having dropped off their trucks in the meantime, Zipp couldn't take her mind off that story Pipp had told. Suddenly, strange lights appeared on the bridge, and seemed to coalesce into the from of an engine.

Zipp slammed the brakes into emergency to avoid hitting the object, and narrowly avoided a collision.

"Zipp," a voice rasped.

Zipp looked around in a panic. "Who's there? How do you know my name?"

"How I know your name is irrelevant," the voice said. "But you should know me. I am Edgar, who was lost on this line all those years ago. You didn't heed my warning."

"What warning?" Charles asked. He'd never have admitted it, but he was starting to get spooked.

"To never cross this bridge at night, or else suffer my fate. NOW BEGONE WITH YOU, AND NEVER RETURN AT NIGHT!"

The shape seemed to move as if charging them. "Get us out of here!" Charles shouted.

Zipp screamed and released the brakes, before putting the throttle to full power and charging away from the scene as fast as they could.

Little did they know things weren't quite as they seemed.

A few days passed, and Pipp couldn't help but notice Zipp was acting weirdly. She was barely speaking to anybody and jumping at the slightest noise. Something was wrong. So she decided to try and speak to her.

Unfortunately, fate was not smiling on her that day. She'd left the plans for her prank in the bin, and the cleaning staff had moved them to the master bin for disposal. Pipp knew of what was going on when she saw Zipp storming her way. "Zipp? Is something go-"

Zipp stopped right in front of her, blocking her escape path. "Really?" she said. "All because I said boo late at night?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Pipp replied.

Zipp held up a piece of paper- the plans, to be exact. "These ring a bell?"

"Oh, that," Pipp said. "I was kinda getting sick of you pranking me and wanted to get my own back."

"Well, you got your wish," Zipp replied. "I can't sleep properly thanks to that, and I'm probably gonna have nightmares for weeks! Thanks a lot."

Pipp looked down in shame, unable to look her sister in the eye. "I only wanted to show you what it was like when people play pranks the other person doesn't find funny. But... I realise now I went too far. Sorry, Zipp."

She glanced up to see Zipp's face had softened a bit. "Hey, come here." She pulled her into a hug, which caught her off guard. "For what it's worth, I need to say sorry too. Jumping out at you in the dark wasn't as funny as it seemed at the time. And maybe we should bring this pranking business to an end."

"Thanks," Pipp replied. "Are you feeling better?"

"A bit. I can't be mad at you forever. At the end of the day, you're my sister, a 'built in bestie' as I believe you put it. And even if we do fight sometimes- OK, a lot- what matters is we come back together. Because that's what siblings do."

Pipp was touched by those words. "Is there anything you need help with?"

"Well, fancy planning that Halloween Party together?"