The Last Stop: The Haunting of Bus 13

Sort:Night Legends | Time:2025-07-03 23:00:49 | View Nums:1

In the dead of night, the neon lights of the bus station flickered weakly, casting eerie shadows on the concrete floor. Bus 13 stood alone, its paint peeling and windows fogged with condensation. The air was thick with the scent of old leather and mildew, a testament to the bus's age and forgotten journeys. Inside, the seats creaked ominously with each passenger's weight, and the clock on the dashboard ticked away the minutes with a mind of its own.

The passengers were a motley crew. There was Sarah, a nervous woman clutching a small, leather-bound journal; Tom, a rugged man with a weathered face and a scowl that seemed to match the bus's; and Emily, a young girl with wide, curious eyes and a penchant for asking questions. The fourth passenger was silent, a man in a dark suit who never took his eyes off the window, as if searching for something beyond the glass.

As the bus pulled away from the station, the driver, an elderly man with a gruff voice and a weathered face, turned to the passengers. "This is the last stop," he announced, his voice echoing through the small compartment. "There's no turning back now."

Sarah's grip on her journal tightened. "Where are we going?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The driver's eyes flickered with a hint of mischief. "That's for you to find out," he replied, before returning to his driving.

The journey was uneventful at first, the bus chugging along a desolate road through a landscape that seemed to stretch on forever. The passengers chatted idly, their voices blending into the hum of the engine and the whir of the wheels. But as the miles passed, the silence grew, and the passengers found themselves lost in their own thoughts.

Tom's scowl deepened as he watched the world slip by. "This is a waste of time," he muttered under his breath. "We should have never gotten on this bus."

Emily, however, was captivated by the scenery. "Look at those mountains," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "They look like something out of a fairy tale."

Sarah's eyes followed the girl's gaze. "I wonder if there's a story behind this place," she mused.

The man in the dark suit remained silent, his face a mask of unreadable emotion. It was as if he had been transported from another world, one where the rules of reality were different.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the landscape transformed into a haunting tapestry of shadows and light. The passengers felt a chill, as if the air had grown colder. The driver, still gruff, turned to them. "We're getting close to the end of the line," he said.

Sarah's heart raced. "What do you mean, the end of the line?"

The driver's eyes met hers. "The last stop," he repeated, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "And there's something waiting for us there."

The bus rolled to a stop, and the passengers disembarked. The driver opened the door, and the cold night air rushed in, mingling with the scent of the bus. The landscape was now enveloped in darkness, save for the occasional flicker of lightning that illuminated the sky.

The group followed the driver down a narrow path, the ground littered with leaves and twigs. The air grew colder, and the silence was oppressive. Sarah's grip on her journal tightened as she felt a strange presence, as if something was watching them.

The path led to a dilapidated cabin, its windows boarded up and the door hanging loosely on its hinges. The driver pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit room filled with old furniture and cobwebs. The air was thick with the scent of decay.

"Welcome to the end of the line," the driver said, his voice echoing in the empty room.

Sarah stepped inside, her eyes wide with fear. "What is this place?"

The driver walked over to a large, dusty bookshelf and pulled out a book. "This is where we keep the records," he said, flipping through the pages. "And here we are. The last stop."

Tom's scowl deepened. "What's this supposed to mean?"

The driver looked up, his eyes meeting Tom's. "The last stop is the end of the road. It's where the living and the dead meet. And tonight, you're going to find out just how true that is."

As the group moved through the cabin, they began to notice strange sounds. Footsteps echoed through the room, and the air grew colder. The man in the dark suit moved closer to Sarah, his hand brushing against hers.

"What's happening?" Sarah whispered, her voice trembling.

The man looked at her, his eyes filled with a strange, knowing light. "We're not alone," he said.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, and the room was plunged into darkness. The passengers stumbled, their eyes searching for the source of the light. But there was nothing.

"Where are we?" Tom demanded, his voice echoing in the silence.

The man in the dark suit stepped forward, his hand reaching out. "We're in the heart of the haunted," he said, his voice filled with a strange, haunting melody.

The passengers felt a chill, as if the air had grown colder. They began to hear strange sounds, the whispers of the dead, and the cries of the lost. The presence grew stronger, and the passengers felt their sanity slipping away.