The clock on the subway platform flickered erratically, the digital numbers struggling to maintain their form as it struck 3:33 AM. The station was empty… or so it seemed. The dim, sickly yellow lights buzzed weakly, each hum a discordant note in the otherwise silent symphony of the underground. They cast long, restless shadows across the cracked and stained tiled floor, transforming mundane objects into grotesque and unsettling shapes. Somewhere in the distance, a faint, persistent dripping echoed through the tunnels, each drop a metronome counting down to some unknown doom. The air hung heavy with the smell of stale concrete, damp metal, and something indefinably… unpleasant.

  Daniel stumbled onto the platform, panting like a marathon runner who'd just crossed the finish line. His jacket, a worn leather bomber, was damp and clinging to his shoulders from the misty rain outside, and his breath curled in visible white plumes in the cold underground air. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, his anxiety palpable. He glanced at the faded and peeling schedule on the wall, its once vibrant colors now muted and grim.

  Last Train: 3:28 AM.

  He cursed under his breath, the sound swallowed by the vastness of the tunnel. Five minutes late. Barely a handful of heartbeats, but in this desolate place, at this ungodly hour, it felt like an eternity. He had been running, his lungs burning, his muscles screaming, but apparently not fast enough. The hope that had propelled him forward deflated, leaving him feeling hollow and exposed.

  His eyes, darting nervously, flicked to the only other person there—a man in a long, dark coat, sitting perfectly still on the cold, metal bench. The coat, reaching almost to the floor, seemed to swallow him whole, rendering him a silhouette against the dimly lit wall. The stranger stared straight ahead, unmoving, as if he hadn't even noticed Daniel’s frantic arrival. His posture was unnaturally rigid, his stillness unsettling.

  Daniel hesitated, his instincts warring with his desperation to get home. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled with unease, but the thought of being stranded alone in the station outweighed his apprehension. He took a tentative step closer, the sound of his shoes echoing loudly in the unnatural silence.

  “Hey… did I miss the train?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

  The man didn’t respond. He remained frozen, an enigmatic statue sculpted from shadow and silence.

  Slowly, almost imperceptibly, his lips curled into a smile.

  But something about it was… wrong. Too wide. Too perfect. As if it had been meticulously placed on his face rather than formed naturally from genuine emotion. The smile didn't reach his eyes, which remained dark and vacant, adding to the disturbing artificiality of the expression. It was the kind of smile that promised not comfort, but something far more sinister.

  A distant rumble, a low growl from the depths of the earth, resonated through the station.

  Daniel, startled, turned toward the tunnel, relief flooding his senses. Finally. Just as he dared to lower his guard, the train arrived, its metal behemoth sliding to a halt with a screech of brakes and a hiss of compressed air. The doors hissed open, revealing the dimly lit interior of the car. He exhaled in relief, the tension momentarily leaving his shoulders, and hurried inside, not bothering to look back at the unsettling stranger on the bench.

  The doors shut behind him with a final, decisive clang, sealing him inside the metal cocoon.

  That’s when he noticed it.

  The man from the bench was already inside the train.

  Sitting in the exact same position he had been on the platform.

  Still smiling that unnatural, disturbing smile. And this time, Daniel could see something else in the man’s vacant eyes: a flicker of cold, predatory hunger. He was no longer just an unsettling stranger; he was something else entirely, something malevolent and unknowable. The train lurched forward, plunging into the darkness of the tunnel, and Daniel knew, with a chilling certainty, that he was trapped. His late night commute had just become a descent into a nightmare.

  Daniel's mind scrambled for an explanation, a logical anchor in a sea of impossible circumstances. Maybe he hadn't been paying attention, too absorbed in his own thoughts to register the man's movements. Maybe the guy had moved faster than expected, a speed he wouldn't have thought humanly possible. Maybe…

  Maybe nothing.

  He forced himself to face the cold, hard truth. The train car was empty except for the two of them. The worn, velvet seats stretched out vacant and still under the flickering fluorescent lights. No conductor punched tickets, no tired commuters slumped against the windows. No other passengers. The usual hum of city life, the distant sirens and rumble of traffic, was strangely muted, as if the train car was sealed off from the world.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Daniel grabbed onto the nearest pole, the cold metal a jarring contrast to his increasingly frantic thoughts. The train lurched forward, picking up speed with unnatural haste. It was moving faster than normal, far too fast for a city subway. He risked a glance out the window, and a chill snaked down his spine. The windows outside showed only darkness. No familiar tunnels lined with advertisements and flickering emergency lights. No distant points of light from other trains. Just an endless, terrifying void.

  He fumbled for his phone, his fingers clumsy with mounting anxiety. He desperately needed to call someone, anyone, to tell them what was happening. He pulled out his phone.

  No signal. The screen displayed only the stark, mocking words "No Service."

  A soft chuckle, devoid of warmth or humor, broke the oppressive silence. It slithered through the car, a sound that felt invasive and wrong.

  Daniel turned back, his heart hammering against his ribs. The man was staring directly at him now, his eyes unsettlingly bright in the dim light. His head was tilted slightly, as if he were studying Daniel like a specimen under a microscope. The smile, that unsettling, unwavering smile, never faded. It was a mask, plastered onto his face.

  “You’re late, Daniel.” The words were spoken softly, almost casually, but they resonated with an unnerving weight.

  Daniel’s breath hitched in his throat, his lungs suddenly starved for air. He felt a primal fear bubbling up inside him, a sense of dread he had never experienced before.

  “How do you know my name?” he managed to stammer, the words barely audible.

  The man blinked. Slowly. Deliberately. The same eerie, deliberate movement he had noticed before, a movement that felt both unnatural and profoundly unsettling.

  “I’ve always known.”

  Daniel's grip tightened around the subway pole, the cold metal a stark contrast to the sudden sweat slicking his palms. The train was careening forward with reckless abandon, hurtling through the tunnels at a speed that felt unnatural. The walls groaned in protest, a metallic symphony of impending doom, and the windows rattled like skeletal teeth chattering in the wind. He checked his phone again, a nervous tic, a desperate attempt to ground himself, to feel like he had some control over the chaotic situation.

  Then his screen lit up, bathing his face in an unnatural glow.

  ?? NEW PHOTO RECEIVED

  His fingers trembled, a frantic dance of fear and morbid curiosity as he tapped the notification. The image slowly resolved itself on the screen, the pixels coalescing into a disturbing reality.

  A grainy, black-and-white picture filled the screen, a stark and unsettling snapshot from a bygone era. It was a train station, undeniably familiar, yet distorted by the monochrome palette. The same chipped tiles, the same flickering fluorescent lights casting long, distorted shadows.

  The same bench. The same eerie lighting that seemed to seep from the very concrete.

  And there, impossibly real, sitting on the bench with an unnerving stillness, was the man in the coat. The man with the hollow eyes that seemed to bore into his very soul.

  But next to him… was Daniel.

  Wearing the same dark jeans, the same worn leather jacket. Sitting the same way, his shoulders slumped, his head bowed in an attitude of weary resignation. The resemblance was uncanny, a mirror image frozen in time.

  His stomach lurched, a sickening twist of nausea and disbelief. He swiped down, hands shaking, and checked the timestamp at the bottom of the image, the numbers blurring before his horrified gaze.

  February 14, 1998.

  His birthday. The day he was born.

  Daniel's head snapped up, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He scanned the crowded train car, his eyes darting from face to face, searching for something, anything, that could explain the impossible image on his phone.

  The man was standing now, impossibly close, his presence radiating an aura of cold dread. He was no longer a blurry figure in a photograph, but a tangible threat, his features sharp and defined in the harsh, flickering light.

  Closer.

  The man’s hollow eyes locked with Daniel’s, a silent, knowing gaze that sent a shiver down his spine.

  “You were supposed to board a long time ago, Daniel.” The voice was a low, rasping whisper, barely audible above the screech of the train, yet it resonated deep within his bones.

  The train screeched, the sound deafening, a metallic shriek of protest as the brakes slammed on with brutal force. Sparks flew from the undercarriage, illuminating the grimy tunnels in a brief, blinding flash.

  The lights burst, one by one, plunging the train car into absolute, suffocating darkness.

  Everything went black.

  A soft ding resonated through the otherwise silent train car. The doors sighed open at the next station, revealing a sliver of platform buzzing with the muffled sounds of the city.

  A young woman, no older than twenty-five, hurried inside. Her movements were a blend of efficiency and barely-contained frustration. She checked her watch, her brow furrowing slightly. With a sigh that fogged the cool air momentarily, she brushed a stray strand of auburn hair back from her face. It was a habitual gesture, one that spoke of a life lived at a brisk pace.

  Her gaze swept across the interior of the train, assessing its occupancy. It was nearly empty, a stark contrast to the packed carriages she usually endured during rush hour. Relief flickered across her face, quickly followed by a prickle of unease.

  Empty… except for him.

  A man sat alone near the far end of the car, shrouded in shadow. A long, dark coat swallowed his frame, making it difficult to discern any details beyond its heavy fabric. He sat perfectly still, hands resting on his knees with unnatural rigidity. His posture was unnervingly straight, his gaze fixed on some unseen point directly ahead. He didn't acknowledge her entrance, didn't even flicker an eye.

  Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly...

  A smile spread across his face. It wasn't a warm, welcoming smile. It was thin, unsettling, and devoid of genuine mirth. It seemed to stretch his lips too wide, revealing a flash of teeth far too white in the dim light.

  "You're late," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that seemed to vibrate more than resonate. The sound sent a shiver crawling down her spine.