The last bus home stopped running at 10:30 PM.
Everyone in town knew that.
So when Mila saw the bus pull up at 11:17, she felt relief before she felt fear.
It hissed to a stop in front of the empty shelter. The doors opened. No driver. No passengers. Just the inside lights glowing like a hospital hallway.
She checked her phone. No signal. Dead battery icon blinking.
“Okay… not funny,” she whispered to nobody.
The doors stayed open.
Cold air spilled out of the bus — not night air. Refrigerator ai