Nightmare Gallery: A Treasury of Twisted Terror Tales

The Last Station

The night train from Penn Station was almost always quiet. Late departures tended to have fewer passengers, a handful of people with distant destinations or odd schedules. Maya had always found comfort in the silence of these rides, the rhythmic clattering of the tracks lulling her into a tranquil daze. But tonight, there was something different. Something that felt off.

She'd boarded the train at midnight. The platform was nearly empty, a few scattered figures glancing at their phones, some yawning from exhaustion. Maya was used to the stillness, but it felt heavier tonight, as though the air itself had thickened with an unseen weight.

The train was almost empty when she found her seat. A few scattered individuals sat in distant rows, each absorbed in their own world. Maya, as always, sat by the window, her face pressed against the cool glass, watching the city lights fade behind her as the train sped into the night.

As the miles passed, the landscape grew darker. Streetlights became fewer and farther between, the distant hum of the city fading into the oppressive silence of the countryside. A low fog had begun to roll in, drifting over the tracks like a living thing. Maya stared out into the darkness, feeling an odd sense of isolation. The train car was dim, the overhead lights flickering occasionally, but they never stayed steady for long. It was as if the train was being swallowed by the fog.

She sighed and glanced around the car. One of the figures near the front, an older man, was slumped forward, his face hidden beneath a dark fedora. He hadn't moved since she'd boarded. Maya tried to shake off the discomfort creeping over her, but she couldn't ignore the feeling that something was wrong. The air in the car felt colder now, even though the train was warm.

A soft, scratching noise came from somewhere behind her, and Maya stiffened. It sounded like nails dragging across the metal floor. She turned slowly, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The empty seats stretched out behind her, and beyond them, the narrow aisle continued toward the next car, dark and silent.

Her heart began to race. The noise had stopped, but the unease remained. She felt the weight of something unseen pressing down on her, a feeling of being watched. Every second stretched out like an eternity as she tried to convince herself it was nothing—just the sounds of an old train, nothing to worry about.

But then, just as she turned to face forward again, the lights above her flickered violently. The train jolted as if something had slammed into it. Maya's stomach lurched as the world outside went black.

A loud scraping sound came from the far end of the car, and the door to the next compartment slid open with a creak. Maya's breath hitched in her throat as a figure emerged from the dark. At first, she thought it was the man with the fedora, but there was something wrong with the way he moved—too stiff, too deliberate.

The figure dragged itself toward her, its limbs jerking unnaturally. It was tall, impossibly tall, with limbs that seemed to stretch just a little too far. Maya's breath caught in her throat as the man came closer, his face hidden in shadow. But as he stepped into the dim light of the train car, she could see it. His face was a mass of wrinkled skin, pale and waxy, with eyes too wide and lips stretched into an unnatural grin. The grin grew wider as he locked eyes with her, his fingers twitching in the air as though reaching for her.

She couldn't move. Her body felt paralyzed with fear. The man's footsteps were slow, deliberate, but his pace quickened with each step, his hands coming closer to the seat where she was frozen in place. A low, guttural noise came from him, a growl that vibrated the air between them. It was a sound that shouldn't have come from a human throat.

"Maya," the figure rasped, its voice low and unearthly.

She felt her heart stop. The name. It knew her name.

"Wh—who are you?" she stammered, her voice trembling. Her eyes were locked on the creature's, but they could never look away. It was like a spell was being cast on her, some terrible, ancient magic that paralyzed her in place.

The figure tilted its head, still grinning, but it was not the man she had seen before. The thing that stood before her was something older, something evil. The train seemed to shudder beneath her, rattling in time with the figure's slow, measured steps.

The creature's lips curled into a deeper, jagged smile. "You've been waiting for this train, haven't you?"

Maya's stomach churned. How could it know? Her mind raced, but she couldn't form a coherent thought.

"Why are you here?" she whispered, unable to tear her gaze away from the thing's hollow eyes.

The creature let out a soft, rattling laugh. "To take you with me. To the last station."

Before she could react, it lunged forward, grabbing her wrist with a grip like iron. The cold of its touch burned through her skin, making her cry out in pain. The train's lights flickered again, and this time they went out completely. They were plunged into darkness, the only sound the horrifying scraping noise that echoed from the front of the car.

"Please, let me go!" Maya gasped, struggling to pull away, but the creature only gripped tighter.

"Too late," it whispered, its voice a raspy hiss in the dark. "You've already arrived."

Maya's mind swirled as panic set in. The train lurched again, and she felt as though it was plummeting into some unseen abyss, the world around her distorting, warping. The last thing she remembered was a brilliant light—so bright it burned her eyes.

When the light faded, Maya was standing on an empty platform. The train had stopped, but the world was not right. The air was thick with fog, the ground wet as if the world had just been rained upon. There were no signs, no lights. No sound except for the distant hum of the train's engine.

She looked around, her heart hammering in her chest. The platform stretched out before her, but there was no escape.

The creature was gone, but its presence lingered, thick and suffocating. She could hear faint whispers now, voices that seemed to drift from all directions.

She realized, with cold dread, that this station had no exit. There was no way back.

And she was trapped—trapped in the final stop, the last station.