The Last Letter - The Second Letter

63Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOlWXgqfDlf

Chapter 3: The Second Letter

Aisha locked her bedroom door.

The second envelope lay on her bed.

Her hands shook as she opened it.

Inside was another single sheet of paper.

This time, the message was longer.

"Do not trust the man with the silver watch."

Nothing else.

No name.

No explanation.

Aisha stared at the words.

Who was sending these letters?

And how did they know about June 12?

A sudden knock on the door made her jump.

"Aisha, dinner is ready," her mother called.

She quickly hid the letter beneath her pillow.

That night, she dreamed of the old railway station.

The platform was covered in thick fog.

A train slowly emerged from the darkness.

Its windows were black.

No passengers.

No driver.

Only silence.

Then she saw a figure standing near the tracks.

Arif.

He looked older than she remembered.

His face was pale.

His eyes were filled with fear.

"Aisha!" he shouted.

"Don't let it open!"

"What?" she cried.

"What must I stop?"

But before he could answer, a deafening whistle echoed through the station.

The ground cracked beneath his feet.

Dark shadows rose from the tracks.

Arif disappeared.

Aisha woke up screaming.

The next morning, she decided to visit the railway station for the first time.

The path leading there was overgrown with weeds.

Broken signs hung crookedly from rusted poles.

The station looked abandoned...

Yet something felt wrong.

It didn't feel empty.

It felt like something was waiting.

As she stepped onto the platform, she noticed fresh footprints in the dust.

Someone had been here recently.

Following them, she found an old office hidden behind a broken door.

Inside, papers were scattered everywhere.

Most were too damaged to read.

But one newspaper clipping caught her attention.

The headline read:

LOCAL BOY VANISHES WITHOUT A TRACE

The photograph underneath made her blood run cold.

The missing boy looked exactly like Arif.

But the newspaper was dated...

Twenty-two years ago.

Aisha's heart pounded.

That was impossible.

Arif wasn't even born twenty-two years ago.

Suddenly, a voice echoed through the station.

Soft.

Whispering.

Close.

"Aisha..."

She spun around.

Nobody was there.

Then she heard footsteps approaching from the end of the platform.

Slow.

Steady.

Coming closer.

And closer.

A tall figure emerged from the fog.

In his hand gleamed a silver watch.

To be continued... 63Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMe3DHlmcqP

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