The door swung open with a metallic screech, and immediately the smell of rust and iron hit them. The carriage was narrow, dimly lit by flickering lanterns hanging from the ceiling, their light reflecting off thousands of chains dangling from every surface—walls, ceiling, even the floor.
The chains moved, writhing like serpents, clinking and rattling as if alive. Some twisted around themselves, others reached toward them, scraping the walls with jagged links.
Evelyn swallowed hard. "It… it knows what we fear," she whispered.
A low, echoing voice resonated from the walls. "Every chain… binds more than flesh. Every choice… feeds the train."
Alex froze as a chain shot out from the ceiling, wrapping around his ankle and yanking him to the ground. He screamed, metal biting into his skin.
Evelyn lunged, grabbing the chain and pulling with all her strength. The chain resisted, coiling like a living thing. Sweat poured down her face as she yanked Alex free.
Sophie pointed to a set of chains that hovered unnaturally in the air, forming shapes—faces, hands, shadows of their worst memories. Each chain seemed to respond to fear, twisting tighter when panic flared.
"We have to move carefully," Evelyn said. "One wrong step, and it'll trap us—maybe forever."
The carriage shifted. The chains seemed to stretch infinitely, forming corridors that twisted and folded. Every step brought them closer to one of the floating chains, which lashed out unpredictably. The metallic clang of each strike echoed like a scream.
Evelyn noticed something etched into one of the walls: symbols—triangles, circles, broken lines—just like in the previous carriages.
"The chains respond to patterns," she realized. "If we follow the correct sequence, we can navigate through."
With trembling hands, Evelyn traced the symbols on the wall. Each step they took in the correct order caused chains to retract slightly. The wrong step, however, triggered a violent flurry—chains whipping toward them, scraping flesh, leaving deep cuts and bruises.
Blood coated their clothes and skin, but Evelyn refused to slow down. Each friend followed her lead, teeth gritted, muscles trembling. The carriage seemed endless, but finally, the last symbol glowed brighter than the rest.
Evelyn stepped forward, pressing her hand against it. The chains froze, then fell limply to the ground. A door appeared at the far end of the carriage, glowing faintly.
Breathing heavily, Evelyn led her friends forward. Their bodies were battered, skins torn, but they had survived.
As they passed through the door, the voice whispered one final warning:
"Chains break, but fear binds forever. The train has only begun to claim what is yours."
Evelyn's fingers tightened on the railing, eyes forward. The Midnight Train's hunger was growing—and the worst trials were still ahead.