978: Story 978: Echoes of the Forgotten 978: Story 978: Echoes of the Forgotten The train howled through the night, a spectral serpent slicing through the fog.
Inside, the dim lanterns flickered, casting long shadows across the rusted walls.
The weight of loss pressed against Mira’s chest—Draven didn’t rember her.
She studied him carefully.
His fingers still curled around his revolver, his stance still sharp with the instincts of a survivor, but his eyes were empty.
The Draven she knew—the man hardened by vengeance, bound by purpose—was slipping away.
Zara placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder.
“You okay, boss?”
Draven blinked.
“I don’t… I don’t know.” His voice was hoarse, uncertain.
His gaze flickered toward Mira, then to Elias, then back to his own hands as if trying to place himself in this mont.
Mira turned to Elias.
“How much did we lose?”
The bartender exhaled, rubbing his temples.
“Hard to say.
mories aren’t like coins—you don’t notice they’re gone until you reach for them.” He glanced at Mira, sothing unreadable in his expression.
“But Draven… he doesn’t even know who we are.”
The train lurched.
The air shifted—colder now.
The flickering lanterns dimd, swallowed by encroaching darkness.
Sothing was coming.
A low, wet sound slithered through the corridor.
Zara drew her machete.
“That doesn’t sound like a normal haunting.”
Elias sighed.
“Because we’re on a train where the dead pay in mories.
Normal left the station a long ti ago.”
Then—a hand burst through the wall.
A rotten, elongated limb with too many fingers clawed its way inside.
The wood split apart, groaning like a wounded animal.
A face followed—a gaping maw of dripping blackness, jagged teeth grinding like rusted gears.
Draven raised his gun on instinct.
The creature laughed.
“Ah… Hollowed minds taste the sweetest,” it whispered.
Mira recognized the voice.
The Hollow Man.
“Draven, MOVE!” she shouted.
The thing lunged.
Draven twisted out of the way, but his movents were slower, hesitant.
He didn’t rember the battles they’d fought, the creatures they’d slain—he was fighting like a man fresh to the nightmare.
Elias fired a round, the bullet whistling through the Hollow Man’s form.
It shuddered, but did not die.
The train car tilted violently.
Zara drove her machete into the creature’s outstretched hand, pinning it to the wall.
“No free rides, asshole!”
Mira grabbed Draven’s wrist.
“You don’t rember us, but trust —we don’t stop fighting!”
The Hollow Man’s head twisted unnaturally.
“No, dear Mira.
But he will rember .”
Before she could react, darkness swallowed Draven whole.
He vanished.
The train screeched.
The shadows recoiled.
And then—he was gone.
Mira’s scream was drowned out by the howling of the dead.
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