The Last Passenger
The night bus groaned to a stop at an empty intersection. Mia, the only passenger, glanced at her watch. It was 2:13 a.m. The driver leaned out of his seat, peering into the foggy street.
“Weird,” he muttered, opening the doors.
A man boarded, his face obscured by a wide-brimmed hat. He moved silently down the aisle, his shoes making no sound on the floor. Without a word, he sat at the very back.
Mia shivered but tried to ignore him, focusing on the music in her headphones. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
The bus rolled forward, the dim streetlights casting flickering shadows inside.
A strange smell wafted through the air—like burnt wood and decaying leaves. Mia turned to glance at the man. He was staring straight at her now, his eyes two hollow pits of darkness.
Her breath caught. She turned to the driver, but he was frozen, hands gripping the wheel, eyes wide with terror.
The lights flickered, and the bus came to an abrupt stop.
When Mia looked back again, the man was standing in the aisle, closer now. His hat tipped slightly, revealing a face that wasn’t a face at all—just shifting, charred flesh.
“You’re the last stop,” he said, his voice like a distant echo.
The doors hissed open, and darkness poured in, swallowing her scream.
The night bus groaned to a stop at an empty intersection. Mia, the only passenger, glanced at her watch. It was 2:13 a.m. The driver leaned out of his seat, peering into the foggy street.
“Weird,” he muttered, opening the doors.
A man boarded, his face obscured by a wide-brimmed hat. He moved silently down the aisle, his shoes making no sound on the floor. Without a word, he sat at the very back.
Mia shivered but tried to ignore him, focusing on the music in her headphones. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
The bus rolled forward, the dim streetlights casting flickering shadows inside.
A strange smell wafted through the air—like burnt wood and decaying leaves. Mia turned to glance at the man. He was staring straight at her now, his eyes two hollow pits of darkness.
Her breath caught. She turned to the driver, but he was frozen, hands gripping the wheel, eyes wide with terror.
The lights flickered, and the bus came to an abrupt stop.
When Mia looked back again, the man was standing in the aisle, closer now. His hat tipped slightly, revealing a face that wasn’t a face at all—just shifting, charred flesh.
“You’re the last stop,” he said, his voice like a distant echo.
The doors hissed open, and darkness poured in, swallowing her scream.
Category
😹
Fun