Vishal walked alone, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, each footstep echoing as if the world itself were holding its breath.
His breath formed pale clouds in the frigid air, and he glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting someone—or something—to be trailing him.
The absence of vehicles, streetlamps, or signs of life made the highway feel less like a road and more like a passage to somewhere unknown.
The bus screeched to a halt before Vishal, the flickering lights casting warped shadows across the pavement.
Through the dusty windshield, he could barely make out the driver—a figure whose face seemed to melt into the shadows, eyes replaced by empty hollows.
"Excuse me... Is this bus going anywhere?" His voice wavered, but no reply came, only the subtle movement of the driver’s head inviting him in.
Vishal[/@ch_1] found the interior shrouded in gloom. Rows of torn seats lined the aisle, each one coated in dust, while the windows rattled gently from the wind outside. No other passengers appeared, and the faint neon glow from the dashboard illuminated nothing but a thick haze.]
Vishal chose a seat near the window, pressing his face to the cold glass in hopes of spotting any sign of life.
The bus doors shut with a slow, deliberate hiss, sealing him inside as the vehicle began to roll forward, almost gliding over the highway.
Outside, the world seemed to recede, the road vanishing into a tunnel of black, and the only sound was the rhythmic tapping of his fingers against the seat.
Vishal shifted uneasily, glancing at the empty seats and the driver’s silhouette, still motionless at the front.
He tried to recall how he’d gotten here, and why the bus had felt so inevitable, as if it had always been waiting for him.
"Is anyone else here?" he called, but his words were swallowed by the void, leaving only the echo of his own fear.
Vishal[/@ch_1] stood and moved down the aisle toward the driver’s seat. The dim lights overhead flickered, casting wavering patterns that seemed to pulse with his heartbeat. The shadow behind the wheel grew sharper, more defined, yet its face remained a shifting blur.]
His footsteps sounded unnaturally loud, and the closer he drew, the more the air chilled, as if he were approaching the threshold of something forbidden.
Reaching the front, Vishal peered into the darkness, his breath stalling as he realized the driver’s face was not merely hidden but absent—a hollow void where identity should have been.
"Who are you?" he whispered, unable to tear his gaze away.
Vishal[/@ch_1]'s heart raced as the realization dawned—he was trapped, alone with a faceless specter, riding toward an unknown fate.]
An icy hand seemed to grip his chest, and he staggered back, searching for an escape that didn’t exist.
The windows showed only darkness, no signs of the road, no hope of return, and the bus carried on, swallowed up by night.
"Let me out!" he cried, but the bus did not stop, and the faceless driver did not answer.















