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With its rhythmic clatter of wheels grinding over the tracks, the Midnight Train usually lulled passengers into a freaky calm as it sped through the night. Adrian, though, found the sound discomfiting. With his hands clenched around the armrests until his knuckles were white, he sat rigidly in his compartment. Every heartbeat was loud in his ears, as though his heart was trying to alert him to something that was hiding just out of sight. His heart thudded in his chest.
The sensation had begun as soon as he got on the train.
At first, it had been subtle—a vague sense of unease, as if he were being watched. He had brushed it off, telling himself it was just his imagination. After all, the Midnight Train wasn’t exactly an ordinary place. People came here for different reasons—some seeking to escape, others searching for answers. And though Adrian hadn’t quite understood why he had boarded, he had felt drawn to it, compelled to step onto the ghostly locomotive and let it carry him away.
But the feeling had grown stronger as the hours passed.
It was always there, just at the edge of his awareness, like a shadow that wasn’t supposed to be there. Whenever he walked down the corridor, he felt it—something moving behind him, just out of sight. He would glance over his shoulder, expecting to see someone or something following him, but there was never anyone there. His eyes would scan the darkened hallways, the empty compartments, but all he saw was the faint glow of the lamps and the reflection of his own tense face in the windows.
Yet the sensation never left him.
It followed him as he moved from the dining car to his compartment as he lay in his bed, trying to sleep. It was always behind him, just a step too slow, a breath too quiet, but always there. Watching. Waiting.
Tonight, the feeling was worse.
The train had plunged into a stretch of absolute darkness—no moon, no stars, no landscape visible beyond the windows. It was as if the train were moving through a void, a place where light didn’t belong. The faint glow of the carriage lamps flickered, casting long, wavering shadows on the walls, making the narrow corridors feel like tunnels into the unknown.
Adrian tried to convince himself that it was just his nerves. He hadn’t been sleeping well since he boarded, and the train’s strange atmosphere had only heightened his anxiety. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t just that.
Something was following him. He could feel it.
A soft creak from outside his compartment door made his heart leap into his throat. He turned sharply, his eyes fixed on the door handle, waiting for it to move. But nothing happened. The door remained shut, the corridor beyond silent.
Adrian let out a shaky breath, his pulse still racing. He was imagining things. It had to be his mind playing tricks on him. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down. But the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach wouldn’t go away. His instincts screamed at him that something wasn’t right.
Unable to stand the suffocating silence any longer, he stood and opened the door to his compartment. The corridor outside was empty, as it always was. But the air felt different—heavier, thicker like it was pressing in on him from all sides.
He glanced left, then right, his eyes scanning the dimly lit passageway. Nothing. The train’s steady clattering filled the silence, but it didn’t comfort him. His footsteps were unnervingly loud against the wooden floor as he emerged into the corridor, his heart pounding harder in his chest.
He started to move, unsure of his exact destination but eager to get rid of the sensation that something was pursuing him. His skin crawled as the lights above flickered once more, creating fleeting moments of total darkness. He could always feel it when the lights went out; there was something right behind him, so close that he could practically feel its breath on the back of his neck.
Adrian quickened his steps and accelerated as he passed through the train's compartments one after another. With every step he felt more and more like he was being followed, the air getting thicker and colder, and it felt like the walls were closing in around him.
Then he detected a slight rustle coming from behind him.
His heart raced with cold. His heart pounded in his chest as he stood motionless. His breath caught in his throat as he slowly turned his head.
There was a shadow in the corridor's fluttering light.
It was long, dark, and distorted, stretching across the floor like a stain. But there was no source for it—nothing to cast it. It wasn’t his shadow; it couldn’t be. It was too far behind him, too twisted, too... wrong.
Adrian stepped back, fear shining in his eyes. The shadow moved slowly and purposefully, giving the impression that it was alive. It moved across the floor like a living thing reaching out for him, getting closer and closer with every second that went by.
His breath came in short, panicked gasps as he turned and ran, his feet pounding against the floorboards. The corridor stretched on endlessly, the train seeming to elongate as he sprinted down the passageway, his pulse roaring in his ears. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t.
The shadow was behind him, always behind him.
He reached the dining car and stumbled inside, slamming the door shut behind him. His chest heaved as he leaned against the door, trying to catch his breath, his heart racing out of control. The room was empty, save for the faint clinking of glasses on the bar as the train rattled over the tracks.
Adrian’s mind raced. He couldn’t stay here. Whatever was following him—it wasn’t human. It wasn’t natural. And it wasn’t going to stop.
He turned toward the exit on the other side of the dining car, but before he could take a step, the lights above flickered again. This time, they didn’t come back on.
The room plunged into darkness, the only light coming from the faint glow of the moon outside the windows. The shadows seemed to stretch and swell, creeping along the walls, swallowing the furniture, the tables, and the chairs. And then he heard it—the soft, dragging sound of something moving across the floor.
It was in the room with him.
Adrian’s heart raced as he backed up slowly, his eyes darting around the darkened room. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it—closer now, moving toward him with every passing second. His back hit the bar, and he felt the cold metal under his fingertips, grounding him and anchoring him.
The air grew colder, and the sound grew louder, the shadow drawing closer, like a predator closing in on its prey.
Adrian swallowed hard, his breath coming in shaky gasps. He couldn’t let it catch him. He didn’t know what it would do if it did, but every instinct screamed that he needed to get away.
But there was nowhere to go.
Suddenly, the lights flickered back on, blinding him for a moment as his eyes adjusted. When his vision cleared, the room was empty. The shadow, the sound, the sense of being followed—gone. It was as if nothing had ever been there.
But Adrian knew better. He had felt it. Seen it.
The Midnight Train had a way of warping reality, of twisting the familiar into the unfamiliar. And whatever was following him—it was still out there waiting.
He left the dining car, moving quickly down the corridor, his body tense, every nerve on high alert. He needed to find the conductor to ask him what was happening. The Midnight Train was strange, yes, but this—this was something different. Something dark.
As he hurried toward the front of the train, the lights flickered again, and his stomach dropped. He could feel it—the shadow behind him, creeping closer, growing darker.
Adrian broke into a run, his heart pounding in his chest. He rounded the corner and froze.
The conductor stood at the end of the corridor, his tall frame obscured by shadows, his back turned to Adrian.
"Help me!" Adrian called out, his voice shaky, desperate. "Something’s following me!"
The conductor didn’t move.
Adrian took a few hesitant steps forward, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Please... help me."
The conductor slowly turned, his face obscured by the brim of his cap. But as he stepped into the light, Adrian’s blood ran cold.
The conductor had no face. In place of eyes, nose, and mouth was a smooth, featureless expanse of skin, pale and sickly. The faceless figure tilted its head slightly, as if studying Adrian, then took a step toward him.
Behind him, the shadow slithered closer, enveloping the walls, the floor, and the air itself.
Adrian’s scream echoed through the Midnight Train, swallowed by the darkness as the shadow finally caught up to him.
