Chapter 5 – Station of Shadows
The platform stretched out like a wound across the northern end of the station, shrouded in mist that seemed almost alive. Every surface was softened, warped by the fog: benches curved unnaturally, lanterns cast twin shadows that writhed across the cobblestones, and iron railings bent slightly toward the tracks as if drawn to some unseen force. Even the distant timetables, normally a blur of brass and black, appeared distorted, letters curling and twisting like smoke.
Ren's footsteps echoed strangely against the damp stone. He looked at John, who stood hunched, hands gripping the strap of his bag so tightly his knuckles had turned white.
"Where… where is everyone?"
John's voice wavered, though he tried to mask it. "Doesn't look like a train will be coming anytime soon."
The mist crawled higher, curling like pale fingers around their ankles. Shadows pooled in the corners, sliding and stretching as though alive. Somewhere beneath the platform, a low, wordless hum rose from the tracks, yet the air held no source for the sound.
Then, at the far end of the platform, something moved.
It stepped forward, and the group froze.
The figure emerged — skeletal and elongated, its limbs grotesquely thin, sinews stretched tight over exposed bone. Patches of flesh were missing, revealing raw muscle and ribs. Its jaw hung open in a grim half-smile, hollow sockets burning with a faint ember-red light. Each motion carried a soft rattle, like wind through dry bones.
In its right hand, it gripped a jagged scythe, threads of darkness trailing along the blade and tethered to a small red orb hovering in the air. The orb quivered like a chained heartbeat, pulsing in time with the figure's presence. In its left hand, a lantern flickered — its warped light twisting the fog into crawling shapes that writhed across the ground.
Ren's breath caught. "It… it's controlling that thing."
Max's instincts flared. He lunged, shoving Elli aside just as the figure's scythe fell.
The blade didn't just cut — it tore. Black threads ripped into his side, peeling flesh from bone in a wet, searing arc. Blood hissed against the cold stone, steaming in the lantern's glow. His breath snagged halfway to a scream as his vision collapsed inward, narrowing to a red-edged tunnel.
His knees buckled. The last thing he saw was the orb, pulsing in perfect rhythm with his slowing heartbeat. Then — nothing.
Max's eyes snapped open. He jerked upright, gasping as though pulled from deep water.
Cold stone pressed against his back, damp soaking through his clothes. The air smelled of rust and dust, every breath heavy in his chest. Instinctively, his hand went to his ribs — the wound was gone, but the pain lingered in his nerves like a ghost.
The shadows here clung differently. The walls bent inward at unnatural angles, doors opened into solid stone, and staircases twisted away into nothingness. Far away, a single lantern swayed, its trembling light barely touching the floor.
"Where… am I?" His voice was barely more than breath.
Only the echo replied — distorted, as if the place itself were mocking him.
Back on the platform, Ren grabbed Elli arm, pulling her close to the warped railing.
"What—what just happened?"
John's head shook slowly, voice trembling. "Max… he—he's gone!"
Liz stepped in, palms raised to steady them. "No. He's alive. We just… don't know where. Focus. We survive. That's it."
Elli, silent as ever, scanned the mist. Her gaze fixed on the far end where the figure had stood. Now, only the red orb remained, hovering and quivering like a living pulse. The fog swirled thicker around it, shaping into warped silhouettes as though daring them to look closer.
Ren's voice was low. "You saw it, right? That thing… it's not human."
John swallowed. "If Max doesn't come back… if…"
Elli cut him off. "We stay together. That's all we can do. We survive."
The fog thickened, warping their sense of space. Benches seemed to slide closer, then further away. Lanterns threw twin reflections that didn't match their positions. It was as though the figure had left its mark on the station itself — a domain of bent perception and hidden threats.
Ren eyed the orb. "Is… is that how it controls things?"
"Yes," Elli murmured. "That's no light. It's a leash. A weapon."
Then, faintly through the fog, came Max's voice. "Elli… Ren… John… don't—"
It cut out mid-word, leaving the group frozen.
"Max!" Ren shouted, stepping forward — but the platform seemed to stretch under his feet, distance refusing to close.
The figure didn't return, yet the orb pulsed again, unseen threads stretching further than they could see. Every step felt measured, watched.
John's grip tightened on his straps. "We can't fight it. Not like this."
Elli's eyes narrowed. "Then we move as one. That's our only chance."
The platform shuddered faintly, as if in reply. The game had begun.
Max crept forward through the warped corridors, each step carefully placed on uneven floors. A staircase spiraled into emptiness; a hallway ended in solid wall; doors opened onto nothing before shifting when he turned away. No threads of control reached here — but the figure's presence pressed at the edges of his awareness, humming faintly through the walls.
The group pressed on through the fog, every breath shallow. Each pulse of the orb was a heartbeat counting down. Somewhere beyond their sight, Max was alive, but far — in a place neither safe nor sane.
Liz's voice was steady but thin. "Step by step. Breath by breath."
Mist coiled around their ankles like cold fingers, urging them forward.