The free dinner in the private compartment was scheduled to arrive soon.
The waiter's announcement left no room for Lucas to question it. Another passenger was set to board at the next stop, one who would be sharing his compartment. It wasn't something he could refuse or change.
He exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing.
"It seems that something happens at every stop…"
The thought echoed in his head like a warning bell.
Lying back on the narrow bed, Lucas clutched the kitchen knife close to his chest. The heater in the carriage hummed quietly, yet no warmth reached him. Only the cold steel in his hand gave him a fragile sense of safety — a thin barrier between life and death on this haunted, ever-moving train.
He closed his eyes for a moment, the rhythmic clatter of the train's wheels blending with the whispering wind outside.
A night of silence. A night too quiet to be real.
When Lucas finally opened his eyes again, it was five in the morning.
A pale, gray light filtered through the frosted window. The first night in this strange journey had passed — uneventfully, at least on the surface. Beyond the glass, endless snow stretched into the horizon, a frozen wasteland under the dim morning glow.
Then, finally, something new appeared.
A small village emerged in the distance, roofs covered in thick snow. From a few chimneys, thin streams of smoke rose lazily into the cold sky. The village spread out toward the base of a mountain, and there — standing tall and majestic — was a castle, ancient and shrouded in mist. Its towering spires cast long shadows across the village below, like a guardian or a predator waiting for its prey.
As Lucas stared, the voice of the train's announcement broke the eerie stillness:
"Dear passengers, please pay attention. We are about to arrive at the next station — Fairy Tale Town…"
The metallic tone carried a strange cheerfulness that didn't match the mood of the world outside.
"Passengers who are disembarking at Fairy Tale Town, please prepare to get off. Bring your own luggage and belongings…"
Lucas sat up slowly.
The next stop was finally here.
The train began to decelerate, the grinding of its brakes echoing like distant thunder. Around him, faint human voices returned to life — yawns, murmurs, the sound of shifting blankets. After hours of oppressive quiet, it felt almost comforting.
But as the train approached the station, the platform that came into view was unlike anything Lucas had expected.
It was colorful — unnaturally so. Bright banners, painted animals, and paper windmills decorated every corner. It looked like a child's dream brought to life, or perhaps a nightmare disguised in laughter.
The train screeched to a halt.
Ding dong!
"Fairy Tale Town, here!" the cheerful voice announced.
"The train will stop at this station for one hour. Passengers are advised not to leave the train during this time. You may visit the dining car for breakfast, and meals will also be delivered to your compartments. All staff members wish you a pleasant day."
The sun finally climbed higher, its golden rays bathing the snow-covered village and distant castle in warm light. The scene looked peaceful — beautiful, even. But something in the tone of the announcement unsettled Lucas.
"An hour-long stop… That's more than enough time for something to go wrong."
He muttered under his breath while carefully wiping the blade of his kitchen knife. The reflection of his eyes on the steel looked sharp, cold, and uncertain.
From his seat by the window, he could see the platform clearly. The bright colors and dancing flags looked almost festive. But to him, they felt like bait.
The neighboring compartment was already alive with noise. A man's gruff voice carried through the thin wall.
"I'm heading out for a smoke. Niya, you and the kid wait here until breakfast arrives."
Lucas paused, listening closely.
A woman's voice — gentle and worried — replied, "The announcement said we shouldn't get off. Please, just wait a bit longer."
The man, who Lucas guessed was named Neville, laughed gruffly. "Oh, come on. This trip takes four days, Niya. Four days! You think I can go that long without a cigarette? They're not stopping us from stepping outside — they just don't want us missing the train when it leaves. I'll be back in ten minutes."
There was silence, then a soft sigh from Niya. She gave up trying to argue.
Through the thin wall, Lucas heard him kiss his daughter goodbye and slide the compartment door open.
He listened carefully — the footsteps growing fainter until they reached the end of the corridor. Neville had exited through the door connecting Car 10 and Car 11.
Lucas leaned closer to the window.
"Let's see what happens when you break the rules…"
He waited.
Outside, Neville stepped onto the platform freely, stretching his arms and letting out a satisfied groan. He lit his cigarette, the flame flickering in the cold wind, and stood there casually, watching other passengers through the smoke.
A few others, seeing him unharmed, followed his lead. They stepped out, some to stretch, others to smoke.
Everything seemed normal.
Lucas frowned. The rule-breaking didn't trigger any response.
Maybe… maybe the announcement was just a safety precaution. Maybe—
Then Neville frowned.
He looked down at his cigarette hand, muttering something Lucas couldn't hear. His fingers twitched oddly, as if stiff.
The cigarette slipped from his grasp and fell into the snow.
Neville stared at his hand, confusion turning into panic. He grabbed his wrist, shaking it violently.
And then—
SNAP!
A sudden crack echoed across the platform.
"Ahhhh!" Neville's scream pierced the air.
His right palm — the entire palm — had been thrown off like it wasn't part of him. It landed a few feet away in the snow.
The cut was clean. Too clean. The flesh was red, raw, and wrong. Yet no blood came out.
He looked down in horror as the rest of his body began to crumble. His nose and eyes slid off his face, dropping soundlessly onto the platform. His legs bent, twisted, and fell apart in chunks.
Within seconds, Neville was nothing but a pile of pale, bloodless flesh.
Even his eyeballs rolled away, still turning, still alive, filled with terror.
Lucas froze. His heart pounded violently in his chest.
The system's cold voice echoed in his mind:
[Risk assessment based on host's strength… Neville: No danger.]
He gritted his teeth. "No danger? Are you kidding me?!"
The mother and daughter next door screamed Neville's name. The child's cries were shrill and heartbreaking, but no one dared to move.
Other passengers who had stepped out began running back toward the train. Panic erupted on the platform. But when the last man reached the carriage door—
He slammed into something invisible.
He clawed at the air desperately, unable to take even a single step forward. His screams filled the air. "Let me in! Let me in!"
Then the door slid open slightly.
A flight attendant appeared, bowing politely.
"Sir," she said softly, "I'm sorry, but you are no longer a passenger of this train."
The man's eyes widened in disbelief. His lips trembled. "No… please… I—"
But before he could finish, his face began to distort. His features collapsed one by one, falling away like melting wax.
The platform turned into a graveyard of the flesh, silent but screaming.
And then — as if summoned by unseen hands — a small, colorful ice cream cart rolled onto the platform.
Its cheerful melody chimed in sharp contrast to the horror around it. The cart moved slowly, its wheels squeaking, and wherever it passed, the remains of the dead — limbs, eyes, skin — were sucked inside, disappearing completely.
The air filled with the faint sound of laughter, mechanical and distorted.
When the platform was spotless again, the cart stopped and played a tune — light, happy, like something from a child's carnival.
"Passengers are requested not to litter," the automated voice said sweetly. "Let's work together to maintain environmental sanitation…"
The cart paused. Its mechanical eyes blinked once.
Then it added playfully,
"Please don't throw flowers away. Putting the flowers in the little author's pocket is what a good reader should do!"
The train's whistle blew again. The Fairy Tale Town faded into the distance as the carriage began to move.
Inside, Lucas gripped his knife tightly, his reflection trembling in the window.
"Fairy Tale Town…" he whispered. "Just what kind of fairy tale was that?"
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