I Can Still See Them

I was marching down the dimly lit school hallway toward my classroom when an ear-piercing scream shattered the silence. My body froze. A shiver crawled up my spine as I hesitated, unwilling to move any further. Something felt off.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a shadow—long, slender, almost stretching unnaturally—following me. Before I could turn to look, the doors of every classroom slammed shut with a deafening bang, one after another, sealing the corridor in eerie silence.

Panic gripped me. My breath quickened as I fumbled for the nearest door, desperately trying to pry it open. My hands trembled as I twisted the knob, and suddenly, the door creaked open. What I saw inside sent a paralyzing chill through my veins.

Bodies. Dozens of them. Piled haphazardly, limbs twisted in unnatural angles, their glassy, lifeless eyes staring into nothingness. The walls were smeared with deep crimson handprints, the floor soaked in blood. The overwhelming stench of death hit me like a wave, and I collapsed to my knees, heaving violently.

I had to get out. Now.

I stumbled back into the hallway, my vision blurred by panic, my legs barely carrying me forward. I ran—sprinting past door after door—only to realize I was trapped in an endless loop, returning to the same blood-soaked room no matter which direction I took. My lungs burned, my limbs screamed in exhaustion.

Then, through my haze of terror, I spotted a figure at the end of the corridor—a teacher, motioning for me. Relief washed over me, and I rushed toward her, my breath ragged. But as I reached the door where she had been standing, she was gone. Vanished, as if she had never been there.

Instead, from the room beyond, came a sound that made my blood curdle—moaning. Faint, wretched groans, restless whispers, the sound of unseen horrors shifting in the dark.

I couldn't take it anymore. I had to leave.

I turned and bolted for the school gates, refusing to look back. As I stumbled outside, gasping for air, I heard it—a faint, distant rumble. A train. Its wheels screeched against the tracks, a hollow echo from the past.

And then it hit me.

June 2023. The Balasore Train Accident. The corpses had been brought here—to my school, Bahanaga High. The smell of decay had lingered for weeks. No one had stepped foot inside since then. They said the classrooms where the bodies had been kept were demolished… but the dead never truly left.

Even now, their whispers crawl through the air, their shadows slither along the hallways. And every time I pass by the abandoned school, I swear—the walls still bleed.

*Fictional story of a true incident that happened after the incident occured in June, 2023 after the Balasore Train Accident