Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

The train shuddered as it hurtled through the night, its metal frame groaning under the weight of something unnatural. The air inside was thick with whispers, voices that slithered through the dark like unseen parasites.

Mira kept chanting, her fingers gripping the Cursed Book as its pages bled ink, the words shifting beneath her hands. Each syllable sent a pulse of energy through the train, forcing the shadows back into the walls.

Draven stood firm, shotgun raised, eyes locked on the hulking abomination before them. The rotting beast swayed, its flesh dripping like candle wax, exposed bones gleaming beneath the crimson lights.

Elias reached into his coat, pulling out another flask of holy whiskey, but before he could react, the beast lunged.

Zara tackled him out of the way just as jagged claws slashed through the air, slicing into a nearby seat like it was butter. The seat shrieked—alive, suffering.

"The train itself is cursed," Elias gasped, pushing himself up. "It's not just the passengers."

The Ghoul Trainmaster cackled from the next car. "Clever little sinners. But knowledge won't save you."

The train suddenly jerked, sending them crashing against the walls. The windows melted, revealing something far worse than darkness outside.

A graveyard of bodies, endless and writhing, stretching as far as the eye could see. Torsos clawed upward, mouths screaming in silence, arms reaching toward the train, their faces masks of endless torment.

Zara's breath hitched. "What the hell is this?"

"The Rotting King's domain," the Trainmaster rasped. "The land where the dead remember."

Mira felt the Book pulse in her hands. It wanted something. Blood. A price.

She hesitated.

The beast roared, lunging at Draven, who barely managed to dodge, rolling across the floor.

Mira had no choice. She bit her thumb, smearing blood across the page. The Book shuddered, drinking the offering, and then—

A wave of black fire erupted from its spine, sweeping through the car.

The beast screamed, its rotting skin peeling away, leaving behind only bones and a wretched soul, which the fire devoured.

The shadows howled as they were dragged into the infernal blaze, vanishing into the ether. The train shook violently, as if it too was in pain.

The Ghoul Trainmaster staggered, his skeletal face twisting. "You meddle in forces beyond you!"

The train slammed to a stop, the doors bursting open.

A station stood before them, ancient and crumbling, its entrance framed by obsidian gates twisted into grotesque shapes. Beyond them, a towering figure waited—crowned in rot, its gaze piercing through eternity.

The Rotting King.

Mira exhaled, wiping the blood from her lip. "Looks like we've reached our stop."