The Train That Never Stops

Noah Pierce had taken the midnight train home countless times before. The familiar rhythm of the tracks, the quiet hum of the passengers—it was always the same.

But tonight felt different.

As he stepped onto the platform, he noticed an eerie stillness in the air. The station, usually buzzing with a few late-night travelers, was empty. The only sound was the distant whistle of an approaching train.

When the train arrived, Noah hesitated. It looked older than usual, almost antique. The exterior was polished but had an odd, timeless quality, as if it had been untouched for decades.

Still, it was late, and he was tired. He stepped inside.

The interior was unlike anything he had seen before. The seats were deep red velvet, the wooden paneling elegant. A faint golden glow from the overhead lights cast long shadows. There were a few other passengers, but they sat unnaturally still, their faces hidden behind newspapers or gazing blankly out the windows.

Noah chose a seat near the back and leaned his head against the window. The train began to move, smoothly at first. Then, the speed increased.

Faster.

And faster.

Noah frowned. The ride home usually took thirty minutes, but the train showed no signs of slowing down. The outside was nothing but a blur. No stations. No stops.

He turned to the nearest passenger—a man in a dark suit reading a newspaper.

“Excuse me,” Noah said. “Do you know when the next stop is?”

The man didn’t respond.

Noah reached out, gently tapping his shoulder. The newspaper fell from the man’s hands.

Noah’s breath caught in his throat.

The man was nothing but a hollow shell. His eyes were empty sockets, his skin pale and lifeless.

Noah stumbled backward, his heart pounding. He turned to the other passengers. One by one, they began to shift. Their faces were blank, their bodies stiff like mannequins.

The train’s lights flickered.

A voice crackled through the overhead speaker.

"Passengers, please remain seated. This train has no final destination."

Noah’s stomach twisted. This wasn’t right. He grabbed his phone—no signal. He rushed toward the door, trying to pry it open, but it wouldn’t budge.

He ran to the conductor’s cabin. The door was locked.

Through the small window, he could see someone standing inside—the conductor, dressed in an old-fashioned uniform. But when the conductor turned, Noah saw nothing but darkness where his face should have been.

A shadow.

The train jolted. Noah lost his balance, crashing against the wall. Outside, the darkness seemed endless, stretching forever.

Then, the whispering began.

Low at first. Then louder. Voices murmuring from the walls, from the seats, from the passengers who should have been lifeless.

"We never left… We never left… We never left…"

Noah’s pulse pounded. He had to get off.

He turned and ran, moving through car after car, the whispers following him. The train felt infinite, the end always just out of reach.

Then, ahead, he saw it—a flickering red "EXIT" sign.

Without thinking, he lunged for it. The door burst open—

And he fell.

Darkness swallowed him.

Then—

He woke up.

Noah gasped, sitting up in bed, his body drenched in sweat. His heart was still racing. It was just a dream.

Or so he thought.

As he turned, his eyes landed on something resting on his nightstand.

A small, crumpled train ticket.

The time stamped on it? Midnight.

And at the bottom, in faded ink, two chilling words:

"No return."

Noah’s blood ran cold.

Because some journeys never really end.