Story 931: The Manor of the Forsaken

The train screeched to an abrupt halt, throwing Draven and the others forward. The void outside the windows melted away, replaced by an eerie landscape—twisted trees, fog curling like dead fingers, and at the heart of it all, a massive, decaying mansion beneath a swollen blood-red moon.

Mira clutched the Cursed Book, its pages vibrating with unseen energy. “This isn’t just a stop. It’s a trap.”

The train doors groaned open. A cold whisper slipped through, chilling the air.

The Ghoul Trainmaster appeared at the far end of the car, his skeletal grin widening. “All must disembark. The Mistress awaits.”

Elias flicked open his lighter, the small flame casting shadows across his weary face. “Mistress?”

Before anyone could react, the passengers—half-rotted, grinning corpses—began standing up. Their heads lolled, their sunken eyes now filled with crimson light.

“No time for questions—MOVE!” Draven barked.