Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

The whistle shrieked through the dead city, an unholy sound that sent waves of unease through the survivors. Draven skidded to a halt, staring as a rusted locomotive tore through the fog, its metal frame twisted into something monstrous. The front grille gaped like a jaw, rows of jagged teeth lining the edges, while bony hands clawed at the windows, desperate and trapped.

Mira clutched the Cursed Book, feeling its pages tremble as the train thundered closer. "This isn't possible. There haven't been working trains for years."

Elias exhaled a plume of smoke. "That ain't a train. That's a damn coffin on wheels."

The train lurched to a stop, its doors groaning open. A thick mist spilled out, carrying whispers, voices pleading and taunting all at once. At the entrance stood a tall, spectral figure—his face obscured by a conductor's cap, his hands nothing but skeletal claws.

The Ghoul Trainmaster.

"You are expected," he rasped, bowing slightly. "All aboard."

Zara stepped back, her fingers tightening around her blade. "Yeah, that's a no."

The Trainmaster didn't move, but the dead streets responded for him. Shambling corpses emerged from the alleyways, their eyes blank yet focused. Some were fresh, others nothing but rotting sinew, but all were drawn to the train—their feet dragging, their mouths mouthing silent words.

Draven gritted his teeth. "We don't have a choice."

They stepped onto the train, and the doors slammed shut behind them.

Inside, the air was thick with decay. The seats were lined with corpses, their bodies fused into the upholstery, mouths muttering forgotten prayers. The floor rippled beneath their feet, as if something lived beneath the boards.

The Trainmaster led them forward. "Destination: The Hollow Junction," he murmured. "A place between the dead and the doomed."

The train lurched forward, and the windows melted into shifting visions. Burning cities, faceless figures, a girl screaming as shadows consumed her.

Mira turned away, but the images burned into her mind. "What is this?"

Elias exhaled. "Memories of the dead."

Then came the clawing sounds.

Something moved beneath the seats, skittering like bone against metal. The corpses twitched, their fingers curling.

And then, one spoke.

"Stop the train… before he comes."

A distant, thunderous roar filled the air.

The Trainmaster grinned, his skeletal face splitting unnaturally. "Ah. He's awake."

The lights flickered, and the train screamed as something massive latched onto the roof.

Draven raised his shotgun.

Something was trying to get in.