Story 909: Phantom Rails

The railway tracks stretched into infinity beneath a sky full of unnatural stars. Mira clutched Draven’s arm, her breath visible in the icy air. Behind them, the ruined town they had barely escaped from was swallowed by swirling mist, the echoes of the Forsaken One’s voice still lingering in their minds.

Ahead, a train screeched to a halt. Its iron exterior was rusted, its windows clouded with grime. A single lantern swung near the engine, casting sickly yellow light on the skeletal conductor in a tattered uniform. The Ghoul Trainmaster.

He tipped his hat with a clawed hand. “Tickets, please.”

Draven exchanged a wary glance with Mira. They had no tickets. They barely had their lives.

The Trainmaster’s hollow eyes gleamed with dark amusement. “No fare? No matter. The Rotting King covers the toll for special passengers.”

Draven tightened his grip on his shotgun. “Not interested.”