It was nearly midnight when Rohan boarded the last bus leaving the mountain village. He was the only passenger besides the silent driver.
As the bus entered a dark forest road, Rohan noticed something strange. Every few minutes, the driver glanced at him through the mirror but never spoke.
After an hour, Rohan asked, “How long until the next town?”
The driver slowly replied, “We aren't going to the next town.”
Suddenly, the bus lights went out.
When they came back on, every seat was filled with silent passengers. Their faces were pale, their clothes covered in mud, and none of them moved.
Rohan tried to open the door, but it wouldn't move.
The driver whispered, “They've been waiting for you.”
Terrified, Rohan looked through the window. The bus was no longer on a road. It was driving through an enormous cemetery.
Gravestones passed outside, and then Rohan saw one bearing his own name.
Born: 1998.
Died: Tonight.
He screamed and demanded to be released.
The driver finally stopped the bus.
“Your journey ends here.”
The doors opened.
Rohan jumped out and suddenly woke up beside the highway at sunrise. His damaged car was nearby.
A police officer told him he had crashed hours earlier and had been unconscious all night.
Rohan looked toward the road.
There was no bus.
But on his jacket was a black ticket stamped:
ONE-WAY — MIDNIGHT.
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