34 million passengers, daily.

the sky opened and sheets of rain started to pour from heaven. instantly soaked, Harlow ran the last few feet to the covered bus stop and ducked inside. she unzipped her thin windbreaker and shook as much water as she could from its surface before running her fingers through her hair and wringing out the sopping wet strands. she was wet to her bones.

she looked back through the small opening, out to the street. a fog had started to tumble down the mounted just before it had started raining and between that and the spray of mist in the air from the water slamming into the street with such force, she could barely see two feet into the grey.

she shivered and backed away from the doorway, turning to cross the small space to the bench, and froze. she felt a bucket of adrenaline pour into her veins as she realized she wasn’t alone. someone sat tucked small in the corner, their legs and arms both crossed, their body leaning into the far corner, head lolled to the side, face covered in wet, black, stringy hair. Harlow couldn't tell if they were asleep, couldn’t really tell anything about them. they were small, but that didn’t bring her any reassurance.

she moved slowly toward the opposite end of the bench, close to the door, her eyes still on the figure in the corner. as far as she could tell, they hadn’t moved at all. harlow felt herself staring, but she couldn’t look away, she was trying to see if their chest was moving. are they breathing? she wondered, heart thudding against her ribcage. god, please dont let me have found a body.

she sat down, gingerly, and forced herself to look away. she dug in her bag, looking for her phone. when she pulled it out, her heart sank. it was wet, and the screen was dark. she figured it would be okay once it dried out, but there was no way it was going to work right now. she looked down at her watch, read the time- 2:44 - and sighed. barely any time had passed since she had gotten off the last bus and had to run through the pouring rain. she tried to remember what the last bus driver had said. there’s one more bus that can take you where youre trying to go, just wait in that lean-to there, and it’ll come by. shouldn’t be more than thirty minutes, an hour, tops.

she’d figured she could sit and read, or scroll her phone, and wait for the bus to take her back to Lightwood. she hadn’t expected the sky to tear in half and pour gallons of water onto her and soak her and all her things.

she sat back against the wall, and crossed her arms tight over her chest, fighting off the cold. the temperature had dropped drastically since she got off the first bus, and now it was blowing in through the narrow doorway. she let her head rest against the wall, too, and her eyes slipped closed. she could still hear the rain, but everything around her started to slip into a strange, dreamy haze.

she started and sat up, sucking air into her lungs so quickly she coughed and gagged. she remembered suddenly, the person at the far end of the bench and whipped her head to look. the figure had moved closer, their hair still stringing over their face, hiding it. but now harlow could see a wet, yellow, oozing eye with a blue iris so light it was almost white, staring out at her, unblinking.

Harlow almost screamed, swallowed it, and pushed her body harder into the back wall so hard it hurt. the figure turned in slow, stilted motion, their head turning like their neck was made of rusted gears. their thin-line mouth wrinkled and curved before pulling apart.

“hell of a rainstorm, isn’t it?” the voice was bone-dry nails on a chalkboard, an empty attic, something terrible. it came out in what sounded like many voices.