The 13th Passenger

There were only twelve people on the midnight bus to Black Hollow. So why were there thirteen sets of footprints in the snow when it stopped?”

It was the coldest night of the year when Bus 307 departed from Ridgeway Station. The route was simple—an overnight trip through forested hills to the forgotten town of Black Hollow. Only twelve passengers boarded, according to the driver’s manifest. Each ticket was scanned, each face noted. Nothing seemed unusual.

But at 2:17 AM, as the bus rolled to a stop at the final depot, the snow-covered ground revealed a puzzle no one could explain: thirteen distinct sets of footprints had exited the vehicle.

Driver Hank Malley stood there in disbelief. “It’s gotta be wrong,” he muttered, scanning the nearly erased prints with his flashlight. “I counted twelve.”

Inside the depot, local officer Clara Voss had just begun her night shift. When Hank stumbled in—pale, shivering, and mumbling about extra footprints—she assumed it was fatigue. That is, until she reviewed the security footage.

The footage clearly showed twelve passengers boarding the bus at Ridgeway. But something strange happened around 1:54 AM. The camera’s feed flickered, just for a second—and in that split moment, a new figure appeared. Blurry, barely visible. No face. No ticket.

Just... sitting in seat 13.

Clara froze the frame. “Who the hell is that?”

Chapter One: The Manifest

The twelve confirmed passengers were interviewed, but none recalled seeing anyone unfamiliar. Some even swore that seat 13 had remained empty.

Except for one.

A young woman named Eliza Thorne—traveling back to Black Hollow after attending her mother’s funeral—hesitated. “There was... a man,” she whispered. “I saw him in the reflection of the window. Sitting behind me. But when I turned, the seat was empty.”

She described him: tall, black coat, pale hands gripping the metal bar in front of him. His eyes—she said—were unnaturally dark. "Like two holes punched into his skull."

Everyone dismissed it as grief-induced hallucination.

Except Clara.

Chapter Two: The Lost Town

Black Hollow wasn’t just forgotten—it was abandoned. Once a mining town, it had fallen into decay after a series of unsolved disappearances two decades ago. The mine was sealed. Most residents fled. But some, like Eliza’s family, had stubbornly stayed.

The bus route had always run, mostly empty, mostly unnoticed.

Until now.

That night, Clara drove out to the terminal lot where Bus 307 was parked. It was still running, faint warmth spilling from the vents. Every seat was exactly where it should be.

Except one.

Seat 13 had deep scratches along the plastic backrest. And a message carved faintly into the headrest:

“HE NEVER LEFT.”

Chapter Three: The Passenger’s Name

Clara dug through transit records and town archives. What she found chilled her to the bone.

Thirteen years ago to the day, a man named Jonas Weller went missing after boarding Bus 307. The same route. Same driver. Same seat—13.

His body was never found.

But his name was now etched into the headrest beneath the newer scratches. Faint. As though the plastic had aged differently around the letters.

Chapter Four: The Return

Eliza began having vivid nightmares. The man from the bus appeared in them—always silent, always staring. She woke up one night with her hands bruised and dirt under her fingernails. In her dream, she’d been digging.

Clara, disturbed by the symbols she kept finding scratched into nearby trees—circles with thirteen dots—finally returned to the bus one last time.

This time, seat 13 was wet.

As if someone had just vacated it.

The next day, Bus 307 was reported stolen from the lot.

Security footage showed no driver. No ignition. It simply started on its own and drove into the night.

Epilogue: The Footsteps Continue

Every year since, on the same night, thirteen sets of footprints appear outside the Black Hollow terminal.

And always, the thirteenth vanishes into the forest, never to be seen again.

Locals whisper now. They don’t ride the midnight bus.

Because they say the Thirteenth Passenger doesn’t want to ride alone anymore.

He’s looking for someone.

Maybe you.