The survivors stumbled into the next door, their limbs trembling, wounds raw, minds frayed—but the train wasn't done.
The carriage was alive with sound: screams that weren't theirs, yet echoed every fear, regret, and sin they had ever committed. The walls throbbed in time with the cries, as if the entire room was breathing agony.
Black tendrils of smoke slithered along the floor, curling around their ankles. Wherever the lantern's light touched, screams turned into faces—ghostly, twisted, contorted in agony. They reached for the survivors, whispering:"Your fear is ours… your pain… our feast…"
Sophie screamed as a tendril wrapped around her arm, burning like acid but leaving no mark. Instead, it pierced her mind, replaying every mistake, every moment of guilt.
Alex swung at the shadows, but they laughed, splitting into dozens, dozens more. Every strike tore at his sanity, his own anger weaponized against him.
Leo's reflection appeared in the swirling smoke. His face was pale, eyes hollow, twisted into a grin that mimicked his deepest desires—and mocked him. It whispered:"You want control… you have none."
Evelyn clenched the lantern. The light flared bright, searing through the tendrils, but the screams didn't stop. They intensified. The carriage itself began to warp: ceilings stretching, walls pulsing, floors folding into voids. The train was feeding on their terror, reshaping reality around them.
The Conductor's voice echoed from every direction:"You have survived flesh, blood, rot, fire, and shadows… but now you face your souls."
Step by step, Evelyn dragged her friends forward. Every inch was agony, as the screams dug into their minds, twisting their perception of reality.
Finally, a faint sigil glowed in the center of the carriage. It pulsed like a heartbeat. With a scream, Evelyn slammed the lantern onto it. The tendrils recoiled, the faces dissolved, and silence fell—thick, suffocating, but mercifully quiet.
They collapsed, trembling, soaked in sweat and fear. But Evelyn knew the truth: the Carriage of Endless Screams was only one of many. The train had more horrors waiting, darker and more personal.
A whisper drifted from the far wall, chilling and patient:"The deeper you go… the less human you become…"
And the door ahead creaked open. Beyond it… the unknown waited, hungrier than ever.