Chapter 6: Hollow Creek
The ticket in the man's hand shimmered faintly under the train's dim lights.
Sarah leaned closer. Her name was printed neatly—but the departure date was blank. Just a smudge where ink should have been. Like it was waiting for something.
Or someone.
"When did I board this train?" she whispered.
The man in the fedora tucked the ticket back into the suitcase without answering. His face remained unreadable, shadowed beneath the brim of his hat.
The intercom sparked again.
"Next stop: Hollow Creek."
This time, the voice didn't sound mechanical. It was Emily's. But not the childlike version—this was her older sister's voice. Raw. Scared.
The train slowed, screeching against wet tracks.
Sarah stepped off into Hollow Creek, a town drowned in moonlight and sorrow. The buildings were collapsed ruins, tangled in vines and moss. A faded sign leaned sideways: "Welcome to Hollow Creek – Population: 0."
A gentle stream ran beside the broken platform. A small wooden bridge crossed over it—half-collapsed, the wood swollen from decades of rot.
She stepped onto the bridge, drawn by a flickering light on the far bank.
There, in the shadows, stood a figure.
Emily.
Not a vision. Not a child. The real Emily—older, thinner, pale. Her eyes widened when she saw Sarah.
"You shouldn't be here," she said.
Sarah rushed to her. "Emily—what happened? Why did you disappear?"
Emily looked over her shoulder, toward the woods beyond. "The train takes more than it gives. I tried to leave. I thought I could find answers… but this place is made of questions."
"You called me."
"I didn't." Emily's voice cracked. "I haven't touched a phone in years. But sometimes the train wants you to think you're being guided. Sometimes it lies."
A deep creak echoed from behind them.
The bridge was collapsing.
Emily grabbed Sarah's hand. "You have to go. You have one chance to get off before the loop closes."
"What loop?"
But Emily was already fading—turning translucent, like smoke drifting apart.
"Wait!" Sarah screamed. But her hand passed through empty air.
Suddenly, the train's horn wailed behind her.
She turned to run—and saw the man in the fedora standing on the platform, holding the suitcase open.
Inside, the envelope she had taken at Central Terminal now had something new.
A photo.
Of her—standing on the Hollow Creek bridge, looking lost.
And behind her... a shadow reaching out.