**The Wooden Carriage** 

The wooden carriage groaned and creaked as it rocked along the uneven, shadowed road. Each jolt sent a shiver through my body, not from the cold, but from the sheer weight of dread that hung in the air. The tall trees lining the path cast fleeting silhouettes against the worn wood, their crooked branches clawing at the sky like skeletal hands.

Inside, the scent was suffocating—a thick mix of damp timber, sweat, and the metallic tang of the ropes that bound our wrists. The ropes dug into my skin with every movement, the rough fibers biting like an unrelenting predator.

There were four of us crammed into this confined space. None of us spoke, but the silence was deafening, a heavy pall of tension and unspoken fears. My eyes drifted to the others, scrutinizing each one carefully. Allies? Liabilities? Or perhaps something far worse? The question gnawed at me, refusing to leave my mind.

---

**The First Woman: Deep Fear**

My gaze settled on the first woman. She was huddled in the corner, her frail frame trembling uncontrollably. Her matted hair clung to her damp forehead, and her knees were drawn tightly to her chest, as though she could fold into herself and disappear. Wide, terrified eyes darted around the carriage, seeing things that weren't there—or perhaps, things she could never forget.

"This is all going to end badly," she whispered, her voice cracking like fragile glass. "They're going to eat us... they're going to—"

Her words faltered as a sob escaped her throat, and her trembling became more violent. The air felt heavier, her panic spreading like wildfire.

I shifted closer to her, careful not to make any sudden movements. "Hey," I said softly, my tone as steady as I could manage. "Calm down. No one's going to eat you."

Her head snapped up, and her tear-streaked face twisted into an expression of desperate disbelief. "How can you be so sure?" she rasped. "They're monsters! I saw it with my own eyes. My village... they tore through it. No one survived!"

Her voice rose, teetering on the edge of a scream. I pressed my hands gently on her shoulders, grounding her before she could spiral further. "Listen," I said firmly, locking eyes with her. "I know you're scared. We all are. But if you give in to this now, you've already lost. *Don't let them win.*"

Her sobbing slowed, though her body still trembled like a leaf caught in a storm. "I... I'll try," she whispered, clutching onto my words as though they were her only lifeline.

I let out a small sigh of relief. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep her from falling apart—for now.

---

**The Second Woman: Hopeless Despair**

Next, I turned my attention to the second woman. She sat slumped against the side of the carriage, her skeletal hands gripping the hem of her tattered shirt. Her eyes, swollen and red, stared blankly through the frosted window. Her hollow gaze seemed to pierce through the world outside, as though she was searching for something—or nothing at all. The air around her was suffocating, filled with a profound emptiness that was somehow more unsettling than the first woman's panic.

"Hey," I ventured cautiously, my voice soft but insistent. "Are you okay?"

Her head tilted slightly, her gaze shifting to meet mine with a slow, almost mechanical motion. Her lips parted, and her voice emerged hoarse and lifeless. "Okay?" she repeated, the word dripping with bitter irony. "What does it matter? We're all going to die anyway."

Her words hit me like a blow, a cold truth I didn't want to acknowledge. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to remain steady. "If you've already given up," I said sharply, "why are you even here? Why not jump off this train and end it now?"

Her blank stare faltered, her lips quivering as though the weight of her despair threatened to crush her. "Because," she murmured, her voice so soft I had to strain to hear it, "I don't even have the courage to."

A silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. When she finally spoke again, her voice was like a ghost's whisper. "I ran... and ran... but for what? My husband, my son... they're gone. There's nothing left. Nothing to fight for."

Anger and pity warred within me, but I kept my voice steady. "Then fight for yourself," I said, leaning closer. "Even if it's just once. Don't let them take what's left of you."

Her gaze flickered, a faint spark of something—doubt, perhaps—beginning to glow amidst the shadows of her despair. For the first time, her breathing slowed, heavy but deliberate. It wasn't a victory, but it was a start.

---

**The Third Woman: Unnerving Calm**

Finally, I turned to the third woman. She was seated in the opposite corner, her posture impeccable. Unlike the others, she wasn't trembling or slumped. Instead, she sat with her back straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap, and her sharp eyes scanning the room like a predator assessing its prey. There was an unsettling calm about her, a quiet confidence that made her seem almost... otherworldly.

"What's your name?" I asked, careful to keep my tone neutral.

Her gaze shifted to me, piercing and calculating. "Runa," she replied simply, her voice calm and detached.

"Runa," I repeated, testing the weight of her name. "You don't seem scared. Or angry. Or even sad."

She gave a faint shrug, the gesture unnervingly casual. "Why should I be?" she asked, her tone laced with a subtle challenge. "Fear doesn't change anything."

Her words sent a chill down my spine. "At least it would make you human," I countered, trying to provoke a reaction.

Her lips curled into a faint, cryptic smile. "Being human isn't about fear. It's about knowing when to act... and when to wait."

I frowned, her words leaving me more unsettled than reassured. "Wait for what?" I pressed, my frustration mounting.

Her eyes glinted, a flicker of amusement dancing within them. "For them to make a mistake."

The weight of her words settled over me like a shroud. She wasn't resigned to fate—she was waiting, calculating, anticipating. And somehow, that was more terrifying than despair or fear.

---

**A Tense Silence**

The carriage jolted again, pulling me from my thoughts. The oppressive silence inside returned, broken only by the creaking wood and the distant rustling of the forest. Each of us sat with our own demons, trapped not only by the ropes that bound us, but by the weight of our fates.

My gaze lingered on Runa. Her enigmatic smile haunted me, her calmness a sharp contrast to the chaos within me. She was a mystery I couldn't unravel, and that made her dangerous.

*"I don't know who to trust,"* I thought grimly. *"But I need to stay alert. Only the strong survive."*

The forest outside thickened, the shadows growing darker as the road beneath us stretched endlessly into the unknown.