Story 951: Ghosts of the Iron Rails

The night was thick with the scent of rust and decay as the survivors stood on the abandoned train tracks. The moon hung swollen and eerie, casting silver light on the rails that stretched into the void. Mira ran her fingers along the Cursed Book’s spine, feeling it tremble in her grasp.

“This is where it happens,” she murmured.

Draven adjusted his shotgun. “Where what happens?”

Elias flicked his lighter, eyes scanning the mist-covered tracks. “The Ghoul Train. People say it only appears to those already marked for death.”

Zara tensed. “Great. So, we’re standing in the exact spot where a haunted train full of undead nightmares is supposed to pick us up?”

A distant whistle cut through the air.

The tracks shuddered beneath their feet.

The mist thickened, coiling around them like skeletal fingers, and then—a train emerged from the darkness.