Story 969: Whispers at the Last Stop

The train screeched to a halt. The sudden stop nearly sent Draven and the others sprawling, but they caught themselves just in time. The oppressive silence that followed was worse than the eerie rattling of the ride itself.

Mira wiped cold sweat from her brow. “That sign—Last Stop—I don’t think it means what we hope it does.”

Beyond the cracked windows, the station stretched before them, bathed in a sickly, unnatural moonlight. The architecture was ancient, gothic, its iron gates twisted into screaming faces. The platform was deserted, but the air pulsed with whispers, too faint to understand yet impossible to ignore.

Elias exhaled sharply. “Feels like we just stepped into a graveyard built for the forgotten.”

Zara ran a finger along the edge of her blade. “No movement. But I don’t trust it.”

Draven clenched his fists. “We’re not staying here.” He moved toward the exit, but the moment his boots touched the platform, the train doors slammed shut behind him.