Capítulo 124: Chapter 124
She didn't even believe it at first. The stories. The ones that made everyone laugh in hushed tones, the ones shared after school hours like they were whispers from a forgotten time. Everyone had heard about it. The Midnight School Bus. A bus that came out at 3 AM. Everyone knew the rules: Get on, and you're never the same. Never.
Carla had been hearing about it for months, but she didn't really believe it. She figured it was some kind of myth or a group of bored, drunk teenagers trying to get a rise out of others. But when she stood at the edge of that broken street where the old bus was supposed to appear, she knew she was about to make a choice that would cost her more than she could understand.
She watched it that night, the abandoned road dark, the bus headlights cutting through the night. It wasn't like it had been before. There was no flash of light, no sudden appearance of the vehicle. It just...rolled up, slow, like it had been waiting for her.
The others were already on it. The adrenaline junkies. The fools who thought they could prove the paranormal was real. They didn't care about what they'd heard. They weren't interested in the stories, only in the thrill of danger. Of living on the edge.
Carla wasn't one of them. She didn't go out looking for trouble. But then she saw their faces — wide-eyed, skin pale, hands trembling. Whatever they had seen had done something to them. The bus didn't seem like a joke anymore.
She wanted to walk away. But she couldn't. Not now. It was as if something was pulling her, keeping her there, even though the doubt weighed down like a stone in her gut. The metal creaked as the door opened, and she stepped inside. The others were quiet. Too quiet. Their eyes flickered to her, but none of them said a word.
The bus driver wasn't anyone she recognized. He didn't look like anyone who could ever exist, but there he was, sitting at the wheel. He didn't look up at her. His fingers gripped the steering wheel with a force that was almost unnatural.
Carla found a seat toward the back and sat down. She didn't feel like talking. The bus was dead silent except for the occasional rattle of the engine. The sound of it echoed through her bones like a warning. Each mile felt like they were moving further away from everything she knew. But there was nothing she could do now.
And then, she felt it. A coldness. The kind that crept through your skin, down to your bones. A draft she couldn't explain. She turned, but the windows were fogged up. The streetlights outside seemed distant, like they were trying to break through something thick and heavy.
Her heartbeat pounded in her chest. She swallowed. The air in the bus felt like it was pushing against her lungs, making it hard to breathe.
One of the teens in the front of the bus, a tall guy with a shaved head and a stupid smirk, suddenly slumped over. His body went stiff, his head falling forward like he was trying to pass out. The others didn't move. They just stared ahead, expressionless.
Carla's fingers dug into the seat in front of her, trying to anchor herself, but it wasn't enough. Her chest tightened. It felt like the bus wasn't just moving through the road anymore, but through time itself. The world outside was changing, but none of them seemed to notice.
The smell hit her next. It wasn't from the bus. It was from outside, a foul stench of rot and decay, like something long dead. But it was getting closer, pulling in through the cracks in the windows. It wasn't just the air. It was the taste. Her mouth felt dry, like she couldn't swallow.
She turned again to look at the others. None of them spoke. None of them even looked at her. They were blank. Empty. The same faces, but nothing behind them.
The bus came to a screeching stop. Carla's body jolted forward, her hands slamming against the seat in front of her. When she looked out the window, there was no longer a street. Just blackness. Deep, heavy, and suffocating. The headlights didn't cut through the dark. They just seemed to absorb it.
Carla stood, hands shaking. "What the hell is going on?" Her voice barely made a sound over the silence. The driver didn't react. No one did.
Then, the door slammed open.
She wanted to scream, to run, but something was holding her in place. Some force, some pull, was keeping her rooted to the floor. No one else was moving. No one was getting off. But the bus door was open. And outside? It was worse than the darkness. The shapes outside, if you could even call them shapes, didn't belong to any kind of life she knew. There was nothing real out there.
Someone on the bus whispered. It was a sound that didn't make sense. Just a distorted string of nonsense that didn't belong to any language she recognized. Carla was about to run when a figure outside caught her eye. It was a woman, standing still in the middle of the road. Her clothes were ragged, like she'd been out there for years. Her hair was matted, caked with dirt and blood.
Carla's body froze as the woman stepped forward, one foot after the other, moving in that slow, unbroken gait, dragging herself closer to the bus.
No one moved.
Carla's chest tightened. That woman wasn't real. She couldn't be. But she wasn't going away. She was there. And something about her, something about her emptiness, made Carla's stomach churn.
The woman reached out toward the door, her fingers long, gnarled, and pale. She grabbed the edge of the doorframe. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Carla stumbled backward, but it was too late. The woman's eyes locked on hers.
Then, in an instant, the woman was inside.
The cold was unbearable now. It was as if the bus itself had taken on a life of its own, a dark pulse that was beating in time with Carla's heart. The woman moved toward her. No one else on the bus was reacting.
Carla reached for the emergency exit, but the door didn't open. Panic began to rise inside her. She couldn't breathe. The woman was close now, so close Carla could smell the decay on her skin, feel the pull of something heavy and ancient pressing in on her chest.
The woman's eyes never blinked. Her lips parted. There was no tongue, no teeth. Just darkness. It didn't speak. But Carla could hear its voice in her head, like a faint whisper. A promise. A warning.
Carla fell back onto the floor, her heart hammering in her chest. The woman knelt beside her, the cold consuming her. She could feel her own skin crawling, aching. The woman was close enough now for Carla to see her face. It wasn't human. It couldn't be. The eyes were hollow, like something had drained the life from her years ago.
Before she could scream, the woman's fingers touched her skin.
The world fell away.
Carla didn't know how long it had been when she woke. The bus was still moving. The woman was gone. The teens were still there, still lifeless.
But Carla wasn't the same anymore. She could feel it. Something inside her had broken, and it was not coming back. She could taste it on her tongue, that same taste from the night she stepped on the bus.
When she finally stood, she looked around. The faces staring at her weren't the same anymore. They were hollow, empty, just like the woman outside. But they weren't looking at her anymore. They were looking through her.
Carla stepped off the bus, and the door slammed shut behind her. She was free, but she knew she wasn't. Not really. Because whatever the bus had taken from her, it wasn't coming back.
Not ever.
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