The door groaned open, and the air was unnervingly still. No smell of rot, no screams—just a cold, sterile quiet that made Evelyn's skin crawl.
The carriage was full of dolls. Hundreds. No, thousands—stacked on shelves, hanging from hooks, sitting in chairs. Each was disturbingly lifelike, their eyes glassy and unblinking, faces twisted in subtle, unnatural smiles.
Then Evelyn realized: the dolls moved. Not clumsily, like toys, but subtly, perfectly mimicking human behavior. A finger twitched. A head tilted. Their eyes followed her, reflecting not her image, but her fears.
Sophie stepped forward, horrified. "They… they're us."
One doll's lips parted. A whisper came out—not soft, but unmistakably her own voice."I'm tired… I want to stop… let me sleep…"
Evelyn froze. Every doll began whispering fragments of the survivors' memories, fears, and desires—every shameful thought they had ever tried to bury.
Alex stumbled back, pointing. One doll reached out, pale hands brushing the shelves as if sniffing the air for prey. The doll's eyes glimmered red. Slowly, it walked toward him, tiny wooden joints bending impossibly, lips opening to mimic his own voice:"Don't fight… give in…"
The carriage groaned. Shelves began to collapse, sending dolls tumbling like screaming bodies. Their wooden limbs scratched the floor, their glass eyes catching every flicker of Evelyn's lantern.
Evelyn realized the train wasn't just showing them dolls—it was trying to turn them into them. To rob them of flesh, of life, and replace it with cold, unfeeling mimicry.
Sophie screamed as a doll leapt onto her shoulder. Its tiny hands dug into her neck. "Stop it!" she cried, clawing at it—but as she did, her own fingers began to stiffen. She felt the warmth leaving her skin, the muscles locking.
Alex swung at another doll. The swing went through air—and his arm froze, stiffening like carved wood. His voice cracked. "I… can't move…"
Leo fell to the floor, eyes widening as he saw his reflection in a polished doll. The doll smiled, then moved its lips to his words before he spoke. "Yes… you belong to me…"
Evelyn screamed, raising the lantern. Its glow surged, and the dolls shrieked in unison, a high-pitched, grating sound that made her ears bleed. Their tiny hands reached for her, their lifeless eyes now alive with hunger.
With a desperate cry, she slammed the lantern down. Light exploded, shattering dolls into splinters. Wood and porcelain scattered across the floor, but the whispers remained, faint and sinister:"We are your other selves. You can't escape… you can't remain whole…"
The survivors collapsed, shaking, their bodies trembling. The lingering chill of the dolls crawling beneath their skin made them feel like they were hollowing from the inside out.
Evelyn gasped, voice hoarse:"This… train… it doesn't just want our lives. It wants our souls. It wants… everything that makes us human."
The next door loomed ahead, dark and foreboding. The faint metallic scent of something worse—decay, blood, and fire—drifted from behind it.
And the train whispered, low and hungry:"Deeper… or cease to exist."