The survivors had barely caught their breath beyond the sigil when a new sound slithered through the rails—a low, wet dragging, like something scraping across metal. The train shuddered as though it had felt them leave, as though it was hungry.
Evelyn's lantern flickered, revealing the corridor ahead warped beyond reason. The walls pulsed and sweated, shadows licking the edges like living ink. But now, the darkness wasn't alone. Figures moved within it—half-human, half-thing, writhing in ways that made skin crawl.
Sophie gasped as a hand, pale and slick, shot from the shadow and clamped over her mouth. She could feel the warmth of breath not her own against her cheek. Alex yanked her free, but the shadow whispered through her mind, taunting her deepest urges, her forbidden thoughts.
Leo, trembling, stumbled over the floor that felt like wet skin. Each step dragged his senses into a haze of lust, fear, and raw survival instinct, as if the train itself wanted to possess them entirely. The darkness pressed closer, feeding on every suppressed desire, every panic-filled heartbeat.
Evelyn screamed as one of the creatures lunged, its face a mirror of her own—but twisted, smiling with a cruel hunger. She struck it with the lantern, the light searing through the form. It shrieked, a sound that rattled bones, then vanished… leaving only wet, oily stains on the floor.
The group pressed on, hearts hammering, senses raw. Each shadow now seemed to anticipate them, corrupting every thought, showing visions of betrayal, pleasure, and terror all at once. Every step was a gamble—one misstep, one hesitation, and the train would claim more than their lives.
And somewhere deep within the heart of the train, a low, wet pulse echoed, calling to the parts of them they dared never name.