Josh found himself standing alone at a bus stop, drenched in the rain under a dim, flickering streetlamp. He could not remember how he got there or where he was going, but something inside of him told him he had to get on the bus. He looked down the empty, misty road and felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Out of nowhere, an old, rusty bus appeared, its headlights barely piercing the darkness. It pulled up slowly, screeching to a halt in front of him. The doors creaked open, and Josh could just make out the shadow of the driver’s face — a blank, pale mask with lifeless eyes that seemed to stare straight through him.
He hesitated but felt compelled to board. The bus was empty and eerily silent. He chose a seat near the front, but as he sat down, he realized the driver was watching him in the mirror, those hollow eyes fixed on him. At that, Josh's stomach churned, yet he could not look away.
As the bus moved, the world outside grew stranger, the streets narrowing and darkening until they were barely roads at all. Through the window, he caught glimpses of shadowy figures standing on the street corners, their heads tilted, empty eyes following him as the bus rumbled past. No one spoke. Not one of the figures moved.
He tried to shake off the unease, but the whispers began — a faint, raspy sound that seemed to come from every direction. The whispers grew louder, filling his mind with words he couldn’t understand, voices that seemed both close and impossibly far.
Josh tried to stand, but he felt frozen in place. Shadows shifted at the back of the bus, forming shapes — twisted faces, hands reaching, eyes blank and hollow yet locked on him. Heart pounding, he turned to the driver, only to find the man grinning, his mouth stretched into an unnatural, ghastly smile.
“Where am I?” Josh managed to choke out, his voice barely a whisper as the eords caught in his throat.
The driver’s smile widened. “You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be,” he said in a voice that sounded like gravel scraping against metal. It made him shiver, the driver’s voice.
The bus lurched to a stop, and the doors opened, revealing thick fog and a silent, endless graveyard stretching out in every direction. Josh felt an invisible force pull him toward the door, dragging him off the bus and into the fog. Behind him, the bus vanished, along with the last trace of light.
He turned, hearing footsteps — slow, shuffling, coming from the shadows around him. As he tried to scream, he jolted awake, gasping in his bed, drenched in cold sweat. The rain was pounding on his window, and his heart was racing. But as he sat up, trying to shake off the nightmare, he froze.
Outside, in the darkness, a pair of headlights were slowly approaching his house.
Thanks for gracing this post.
Greetings!
