The beams of light from the headlights of the worn red bus cut through the fog like a knife. The only light in the dreary, sparse area. As if it were the only ray of hope in the rainy atmosphere.
    There were dilapidated buildings lining the street, but they all seemed to be abandoned, if not ransacked altogether. The wheels bounced and deformed as they rolled over the broken cobblestone street.
    The bus itself meandered at a leisurely pace. It couldn't have been going more than fifteen miles an hour; as if it had no destination to get to at all and was only traveling on its own accord.
    That night, there were no passengers on the bus. It was half-past three in the morning, but the time didn't seem to matter much at all, due to the dreary fog obscuring the streets and sky.
    Coming to a slow, squeaky stop, the bus's engine cut off with a loud hiss, and the doors opened just as slowly. Warm golden light began to spill out across the sidewalk from inside it, illuminating tiny rivers of rainwater rushing through the cracks in the street.
    But the most noticeable disturbance of the sparse area was the driver's presence. As if he was a moving shadow, his skin seemed to shift and curl into itself. If you looked at him for too long, he seemed to disappear completely. His eyes were nothing but hollow pits; pure, blinding white, and devoid of any emotion.
    But he operated the machine flawlessly nonetheless, and, after all, there was no one on board to complain about his strange appearance.
    The only sound came from the pouring rain hitting the roof of the bus, save for the quiet purring of the engine.
    He checked his watch silently.
    3:33.
    Jerking his head sharply to the side, he snapped his gaze towards the open door. It was as if his head had been attached to a string of some sort that had jerked his entire neck around a full 180 degrees. It seemed to break his spine with a sickening snap. Unperturbed, he glanced out the doors, taking a good look at a lamppost with the bus schedule posted on it, the paper soaked, ink running.
    Standing next to it was a girl with long brown hair who was drenched head-to-toe from the rain. He could not tell exactly how long she had been there for, but it had clearly been more than a few minutes due to her disheveled appearance. She wore a ripped rib-length jean jacket, and was clutching a necklace of some sort in her hand as if her life depended on it. Her ruffled rose-colored skirt stuck to her legs, much darker than it should be, and her knee-high socks were nearly transparent from the puddles assaulting them relentlessly. Cleanly cut bangs stuck to her forehead; a flat ponytail pressed against the back of her neck.
    She finally looked up, and her gaze met the empty stare of the bus driver.
    Her own eyes widened, and a scream tore its way out of her throat. The man's ghastly appearance was unlike anything she had ever seen; for some reasons she felt as though he could snap her body into mismatched pieces apart with his gaze alone.

But perhaps the strangest of all was the well-pressed suit he was wearing, and an equally as elegant bowler hat, as if he was a perfectly normal somewhat-young man.
    But he did not flinch. He seemed to be used to the reaction.
    "Welcome," he said kindly, extending a gloved hand towards her. His voice was deep, but smooth. It didn't match his appearance at all. "You are right on time. We have been expecting you."
    The girl shifted on the balls of her feet uncomfortably.
    "You...have?" she managed. "How is that possible? I don't know where I am, and I don't know how I got here."
    "That is quite alright," he said calmly. "Please, come aboard first. We can get you some new clothes, and something warm to drink. As well as somewhere to rest for the night."
    Confused, the girl cocked her head to the side.
    "'Somewhere to rest'?" she echoed slowly. "On a...bus?"
    "I can assure you that it is much more spacious on the inside," the driver chuckled, his voice surprisingly light. Usually, new passengers accepted his offer with little to no hesitation, eager to get out of the cold and rain. He gave her a gentle smile, or as best of an imitation of one as he could with his shadowy face. His mouth was just as blinding white and empty as his eyes.
    "Perhaps we should start with something more practical. What is your name, young lady?"
    She paused again for a moment, but eventually chose to speak up again.
    "Eerie..." she said quietly. But after a moment, she paused, and then bit her lip before continuing. "I think my name is Eerie."
    She brought her fingers to her temples and winced.
    "I...I can't remember my last name."
    "That is quite alright," he replied, voice softening to match her quiet tone. "My name is Exactoris. I am the driver of this vehicle. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Eerie. I'm sure the others will welcome you warmly."
    "'Others?'" She mimicked, glancing at the many windows decorating the bus. "What do you mean 'others'? I can't see anybody else on board...the seats are all empty."
    "They..." he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Prefer to stay hidden at times like this. I assure you, they are there, and will appreciate your company."
    The girl took a deep breath.
    "You...promise you won't hurt me?" She asked eventually. "How do I know that I can trust you?"
    He smiled sadly.
    "As cruel as it seems, I am afraid that you do not have much of a choice. This street will not remain here for much longer. And if you stay here, you will disappear along with it. Look."
    With a stiff hand that jerked up too quickly, as if the driver's arms, like his neck, were attached to strings like a broken marionette's, he pointed at the girl's feet.
    It was true- the scenery around her seemed to be fading, the colors becoming more dull. The street itself was beginning to disappear.
    A small gasp escaped her mouth as she realized that her own legs were fading away with it. Panicking, she tried to make contact with her own skin, but her hand just passed through it, as if it wasn't there at all.
    "A-Alright..." she choked out. "B-But I won't stay for long. As soon as I remember who I am, I'll-"
    "I understand," he said solemnly. He turned towards her again, his expression surprisingly tender. "And if you do not?"
    She went silent again, her bangs covering her eyes.
    "I..." she managed. "I don't know."
    "That is a very....human answer," he said, a sad smile on his face. "I have no doubt that you will fit in here."
    He offered her a hand once again, and she took it gingerly, half-expecting for her own hand to pass through his smokey one like her own.
    But his hand was warm through the glove, and his grip was firm. She climbed the stairs slowly, and the door shut behind her.
    As soon as they were tightly shut, all of the lights inside the bus shut off. Before she could even think about screaming or asking what was going on, the lights turned on again. But now, the bus seemed to be fading away as well, the same way the street had.
    Her heart began to beat faster, and she turned towards the driver.
    "W-What is this!?" She managed. "What's going on!?"
    "I'm afraid you must prove yourself worthy of this gift before you can Ride this bus," he said quietly. "But worry not. I have faith in you, Miss Eerie."
    Without another word, he snapped his fingers, the sound echoing throughout the fading space, leaving her falling into who-knows-where, hungry, confused, and scared out of her mind.
    With no other options left, she squeezed her eyes shut and gripped her pendant, and braced herself to hit solid ground.

Author's Note:
Hello again! If you're reading this note, I owe you a huge "thank you" for checking out the second chapter of WOTB!! It's always been a dream of mine to write something spooky, so this is always a blast to work on.

Of course, those of you reading who have been with me since the beginning, this is dedicated to you.

If you feel like sticking around, I'd be delighted.

Thanks for reading!

Crystal