969: Story 969: Whispers at the Last Stop 969: 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 ti.
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 ans 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 movent.
But I don’t trust it.”
Draven clenched his fists.
“We’re not staying here.” He moved toward the exit, but the mont his boots touched the platform, the train doors slamd shut behind him.
Mira gasped, pressing her hands against the glass.
“Draven!”
Inside the train, shadows swirled.
Dozens of silent figures materialized in the seats, their hollow eyes fixed on those left inside.
They had been riding with ghostly passengers all along.
Elias banged against the door.
“Shit!
It’s locked!”
Draven turned, reaching for his weapon, but the station itself shifted, the walls seeming to stretch and breathe.
From the depths of the mist, a figure erged.
A girl.
Young, barely ten.
Barefoot, wrapped in tattered white fabric.
Her hair was long, matted, covering her face.
She stood at the end of the platform, unmoving.
Draven hesitated.
Sothing about her felt…
wrong.
Then she whispered.
Not aloud, but in his head.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
Draven’s breath hitched.
His heart pounded like a war drum.
“Neither are you.”
The girl lifted her head slightly, just enough for him to see her blackened, hollow sockets where eyes should have been.
“If you don’t leave, the Hollow Man will co.”
The mont she spoke his na, the station trembled.
The shadows inside the train surged forward, swallowing Mira, Elias, and Zara in a wave of darkness.
Their screams were silenced instantly.
Draven whirled—but the train was gone.
Vanished.
He was alone.
The girl took a step forward, her bare feet leaving bloody imprints on the stone.
“Run.”
A deep, guttural growl echoed from the tunnels beyond the station.
Sothing was waking.
Sothing old.
Draven had survived zombies, dark magic, and cursed creatures.
But this?
This felt different.
This felt like the end of the road.
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