Aninsa moved forward through the thin mist settling over the city, forming vague contours and trembling shadows in the cold air. The flickering streetlights barely managed to pierce the darkness, and the strange sounds of the Dark City—rustles, distorted echoes, invisible footsteps—made her breathing grow heavy, as if the air itself were laced with ash.

  She stopped abruptly when, at the corner of a deserted street, she caught sight of the silhouette of a massive bus. It was parked at a nameless stop, its dirty, blackened body giving the impression it had been abandoned there for years. The windows were opaque and dark, and the front door was slightly ajar, revealing only a dense darkness within.

  The only lights on were the marker lights—two red dots flickering faintly, like eyes watching her from the shadows. As she drew closer, Aninsa felt a cold shiver run down her spine.

  She didn’t know why, but she had a terrible feeling about that bus. The whole city was frightening, but this vehicle felt different, as if it were something alive waiting for her—a giant mechanical being devoid of empathy or any other human feeling.

  Aninsa tried to peer through the grime-streaked windows, but all she could distinguish was that there were no passengers and no driver. The bus seemed to operate on its own.

  An electronic display above the windshield flickered chaotically, cycling through meaningless messages:

  "ROUTE 0 - NO DESTINATION"

  "TIME: ????"

  "IMMEDIATE DEPARTURE"

  A slight breeze carried a strange, hard-to-define scent toward her—something between rust, burnt diesel, and a distant, almost familiar perfume.

  A thought crossed her mind. If she were to board… where would it take her? Perhaps out of the city? Maybe this was the escape she had been seeking for so long. She already felt the darkness inside pulling her in, like invisible hands trying to seize her.

  But at the same time, something within her prevented her from believing that things could be so simple.

  A metallic creak made her jump. The bus door opened a bit wider. The display changed again, flashing a message in red letters that seemed to vibrate in the air:

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “ANINSA: TO TERMINAL DEPOT. NO RETURN ROUTE.”

  "DEPARTURE: NOW"

  Aninsa lowered her gaze to the ground, her hands trembling. “No…” she whispered, almost without realizing it.

  She didn't have the courage to board. Whatever that bus was, she didn't want to find out.

  She turned abruptly and began to run, feeling pursued by the red light flickering behind her. Her steps were unsteady and her breathing became increasingly labored, but she didn’t stop. Behind her, the bus door closed with a sinister screech, and the red lights went out suddenly, leaving the spot in complete darkness.

  Only when she was far from the stop did Aninsa stop and turn to look back. The place where the bus had been was now empty, as if it had never existed. But she knew it had been there. And she knew that if she had boarded, she might never have returned.

  Aninsa arrived in front of an abandoned building with shattered windows and walls covered in strange graffiti—symbols that seemed to shift slightly if she stared at them too long. Inside, everything was dark and frozen in profound silence, but something caught her eye: an old magazine, torn and dirty, left on the dusty floor. It was as if someone had intended to leave it there specifically for her.

  With trembling hands, Aninsa picked up the magazine and began to leaf through the thin pages. Most were blank or filled with nonsensical text, but one of them made her catch her breath. On that page was a small, slightly faded photograph of a little girl, probably about eight years old. The girl had blonde hair and large blue eyes, and she was smiling widely, as if nothing evil could ever touch her soul. Under the photo, a single word was written: Maiana.

  Aninsa felt a lump in her throat.

  Maiana.

  The name rang familiar, like a melody she once knew but could no longer hum.

  Touching the photo gently, she felt a powerful surge of emotion, as if something inside her had suddenly snapped. A fleeting image flashed through her mind—a hospital room, the sharp sting of medicine in the air, a pale little girl looking at her with pleading eyes.

  “Maiana…” she whispered, her voice sounding strange in the silence of the empty space around her. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t remember from where. She tried to concentrate, to bring fragments of her past to light, but her mind was like a broken mirror. All her memories were fragmented, lost in the darkness that now enveloped her.

  As she looked closer at the photo, something in the expression on Maiana’s face made her start. It wasn't just the innocent smile of a happy childhood; there was something deeper, something hidden in her eyes. A vague sadness, almost imperceptible, yet it seemed to create a bond between them.

  “Maybe… maybe she’s my sister,” Aninsa whispered, feeling a strange sensation in her chest. “But if she is… why don’t I remember?”

  A worrying thought began to gnaw at her mind: “What if she’s sick? What happened to her?”. She tried to focus, to recall details about her family, their home, the life she had before arriving in this maddening city. But the more she tried, the more she felt as if she were being pushed into a black abyss. Everything was covered by a thick, impenetrable veil.