Chapter 6: the abandoned train
Edge of Sector 8-Delta, Arklay Forest, near the train tracks
The rain has returned. Slow. Cold. Almost respectful.
Rebecca walks without looking back. Her uniform is soaked, stained with both her own blood and that of others. She doesn't know how much time has passed since they escaped the cave. She only remembers the last scream. The last shot. And the gaping jaws of hell.
Richard, at her side, remains silent. He doesn't look back either. Unlike her, his breathing is controlled, steady… but his jaw is clenched. Tight.
They are the only ones left.
"Kenneth… Forest… Enrico…" Rebecca murmurs.
The list weighs on her. Heavier than the rifle in her hands. Heavier than fear.
Richard doesn't reply. He just stops for a moment and gently touches her shoulder. The contact is brief, almost mechanical. But it's there. Present.
"It wasn't your fault," he says. His voice is deeper, more worn than ever. "They knew what they were getting into."
"But we didn't know this," she replies, her voice barely a whisper. Her gaze trembles. "No one... is prepared to see their teammates… devoured."
A thunderclap splits the sky. Shadows tremble among the trees.
A distant hum makes them stop. An engine. Rails.
"Did you hear that?" Rebecca asks, a hint of urgency in her voice.
"Yeah," Richard says. "Sounds like a train."
They look at each other. Then they run.
Mud pulls at their boots, branches tear at their clothes. Rebecca's flashlight flickers. But as they break through the brush… there it is.
A train. Stopped in the middle of nowhere. Lights on. Silent. Like a corpse still warm.
"A train?" Rebecca whispers.
"What's it doing here?" she asks again, confused by the barely visible logos on the metal cars.
"Doesn't look military… but not civilian either," Richard replies, cautious.
"Whatever it is… it's running."
A shiver runs through both of them. The silence around it makes it feel even more unnatural.
Richard raises his weapon.
"Ready for another hell?" he says with a bitter, forced half-smile, eyes fixed on the structure.
Rebecca doesn't answer right away. Her fingers tremble as she wipes tears from her bloodstained, torn sleeve.
"There's no one left to wait for us…" she murmurs. "We can't stop now."
A howl breaks the silence.
One. Deep. Long.
Then… another. Closer.
Both turn their heads toward the forest, just where the darkness seems to move with a life of its own. Eyes gleam among the trees. Yellow. Fixed. Twigs snap. Guttural panting. Paws pounding damp earth.
"Dogs!" Richard shouts, raising his rifle. "Move!"
Rebecca nods without hesitation. They run the last stretch of ground to the side of the train. The side doors are ajar. Richard shoves them open, metal screeching with rust.
The howl turns into a low, wet growl.
They slip inside just as the first Cerberus burst from the undergrowth. Rotting beasts, muscles exposed, eyes dry, frothing with rage. Their fangs look unnaturally long, as if evolved to rip deeper with every bite.
Richard kicks a toolbox into the doorway, blocking the entrance. The door slams shut with a metallic bang.
Claws scrape against the outer walls.
Rebecca falls to her knees, gasping, her heart hammering.
"We… almost didn't make it," she whispers.
Richard leans against the wall, breathing heavily. His eyes scan the dimness of the train car.
"Welcome aboard."
The train smells of rust and death.
The interior is dim. Only a few emergency lights flicker red, casting irregular flashes over the empty seats and tattered curtains. The long, narrow hallway stretches ahead like a corridor without end.
Richard checks the latch on the door they just closed behind them. The howls are now only distant echoes. But the rusted rails continue to creak. The train… is still. But its frame groans as if it were breathing.
Rebecca leans against the padded wall, closing her eyes for a moment. Exhausted. Dry blood stains remain on her torn surgical gloves—Kenneth's, Forest's, her own. Her face looks paler in the reddish glow, but her eyes remain sharp.
"Looks empty," Richard says softly, sweeping the rifle's sight across the car. "Too empty."
"Shouldn't we… hear something? A motor, a fan?" Rebecca asks, still unmoving.
"Yeah. But it's dead."
Richard approaches a side control panel. Lights off. No power. No response. At the far end, a metal door remains closed, its electronic lock blinking green.
"It's unlocked." Richard nods. "Let's move—carefully."
They advance down the hallway, listening to every creak, every vibration of metal beneath their boots. The windows are filthy, coated in dry dust and what appear to be handprints… from the inside.
Rebecca frowns.
"Do you see that?" she points to one of the windows. "They're handprints… human. But there's something else."
They get closer. The marks aren't just hands. There are sticky trails—thick, mucous—smeared across the glass.
Richard swallows.
"I don't like this."
They cross through the metal door.
Dining Car
The dining car is decorated with ragged velvet curtains, shattered porcelain dishes, and silverware scattered across the floor. Some tables still have remnants of food—rotten, thick with mold—and a fetid stench hangs in the air like an invisible cloud.
In the center, a body.
A man in a conductor's uniform, face down in a plate of rotten meat. Looks like he collapsed forward. But his back… is covered in purplish bulges, as if something is growing under his skin.
Rebecca slowly approaches, pulling out her stethoscope with trembling hands.
"No pulse. He's dead."
Richard doesn't lower his weapon.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes…" Rebecca straightens, breathing heavily. "But… there's something wrong with his back. It looks like it's going to… burst."
A drop falls from the ceiling.
Plop.
They both look up.
Between the luggage compartments, clinging to the walls, are dozens of slick forms. Black. Small. Some are moving.
"Are those… leeches?"
The first one drops. Then another. Then dozens.
And the conductor's body convulses.
Richard shouts:
"BACK!"
The leeches swarm over the corpse, which twists with a sickening crack of bones. The bulges rupture—and something emerges.
The figure that rises isn't human. It's an amalgamation of flesh, slime, and hollow eyes. It stands in humanoid shape, but its skin isn't skin—it's a writhing mass of living, shrieking leeches.
Rebecca screams, backing away, her face twisted in horror.
Richard opens fire.
"RUN! RUN NOW!"
Luxury Car – First Class
"They all died for this. For this hell… and we don't even know why…"
Richard crouches in front of her. Grabs her arms.
"We'll find out. I swear it."
She looks at him, eyes overflowing—but no tears fall.
"And if we don't make it out?"
"Then we'll make it matter."
Outside, the train groans again.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Writing doesn't stop the hunger… but it sure leaves you too broke to eat.If you enjoy what I do and want me to keep creating instead of turning into the village square juice vendor (something I've seriously considered), your support on Patreon would be like a warm coffee for my soul… and maybe even food for my stomach.
Here's the link—no pressure, no drama, just love and a lot of worn-out keyboard keys: on my Patreon I upload 10 extra chapters every Saturday. They're in English, with some small narrative changes, but nothing too drastic.
👉 [patreon.com/Dalaraamater]
If you'd like to support me with a one-time donation instead of a Patreon commitment, here's my secret Ko-fi link. Every $10 milestone reached will unlock 5 extra chapters of the most-voted story here on Webnovel.
https://ko-fi.com/dalaraamater