The last train of the night was nearly empty, with only a handful of tired commuters scattered across the dimly lit car. I settled into a seat near the window, grateful for the quiet after a long day. That’s when I noticed them a silent passenger sitting across from me, dressed in dark clothes, face obscured by shadows. They didn’t move, didn’t speak, and their eyes seemed fixed on something far beyond the train. Unease settled in as the train rumbled through tunnels, the only sound the steady clatter of wheels on tracks.

As the minutes passed, the silence grew heavier, almost suffocating. When I finally mustered the courage to speak, the passenger didn’t respond. But the temperature around them dropped sharply, and the lights flickered ominously. Suddenly, the train jerked violently, throwing me off balance. When I looked up again, the seat across from me was empty no sign the passenger had ever been there. The doors opened at the final station, and as I stepped out, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had followed me from that ghostly ride. Shutdown123