Story 930: The Hunger Below

The train’s whistle shrieked again, a sound that clawed at the survivors' nerves as the Ghoul Train roared through the void.

Draven led the charge down the bloodstained corridor, shoving past decayed passengers that twitched in their seats. Some stirred, their sunken eyes snapping open, mouths splitting into grotesque grins.

“They’re waking up,” Zara warned, keeping close to Mira.

The air grew thick with rot and whispers, the voices of the damned hissing between the walls. The wooden panels bulged, shifting as if something beneath them was breathing.

Elias kicked open the next door, revealing a dining car frozen in time. Chandeliers flickered above, casting a dim glow over long tables covered in rotting food and shattered dishes. The chairs were occupied—skeletal figures slumped over plates of blackened meat, their jaws locked in endless grins.

Then, the table moved.