As I opened my father’s journal, dated October 12th, 2008, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of curiosity and apprehension. My father had always been fascinated by Bulad Station, and now I had the chance to learn about his experience there firsthand.
He wrote about arriving at the station at exactly 2:34 PM, just as he had planned. But as he walked through the empty corridors, he felt an overwhelming sense of unease. It was as if the station was alive, and it was watching him.
The only sound he heard was a faint whispering that seemed to be coming from all around him, but he couldn’t make out what it was saying. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he realized that he was not alone. He felt eyes on him, watching his every move.
As he ventured further into the station, the whispers grew louder and more insistent. They seemed to be trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t understand their message. It was as if they were in a language he had never heard before.
Despite his growing fear, my father pushed on, determined to uncover the secrets of Bulad Station. But as he entered the heart of the station, the whispers became a deafening cacophony. He felt a pulling sensation, as if he was being drawn towards something he couldn’t see.
And then, in a blinding flash of light, he was gone.
Reading his journal, I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to my father. What had he found at Bulad Station that had caused him to disappear without a trace?
I knew that I had to find out for myself. I set out on a journey that would take me deep into the heart of the station, armed with nothing but my father’s journal and a sense of determination. The whispers of Bulad Station called to me, and I couldn’t ignore their haunting call.I had flung a beige raincoat over me and had got into my car,The rain fell in sheets, pummeling the earth with a relentless force. Thunder boomed overhead, rattling the very foundations of the world, while lightning illuminated the darkened sky in a brilliant flash of white light. The wind howled like a pack of wolves, snarling and snapping at my heels, as I navigated the treacherous country lane leading to Bulad Station.
I had my father’s journal with me, a tattered and worn testament to his own ill-fated journey to the station so many years ago. Its pages were yellowed with age, the ink faded and smudged with time, yet I clung to it as if it were a lifeline. It was my only link to him, and I was determined to follow in his footsteps, no matter the cost.
The road ahead was muddy and slick, the car slipping and sliding in the thick sludge. But I pressed on, my determination unwavering, my resolve unbreakable. The whispers of the station beckoned to me like a siren’s call, and I could not ignore their haunting plea.
As I arrived at the entrance to the station, my heart pounded in my chest like a wild animal, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The gates creaked and groaned in the wind, their rusted hinges protesting as they opened to admit me.
The station was a desolate wasteland, a ghostly reminder of a time long past. The air was thick with the stench of decay, the darkness enveloping me like a shroud. But still, I pushed on, my father’s journal clutched tightly in my hand.
The whispers began anew, louder now, more frenzied, as if they were trying to warn me of something terrible. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, my skin prickling with fear, as I walked deeper into the station’s bowels. It was as if the station was alive, a living, breathing entity, watching me with malevolent intent.
And then, without warning, there was a blinding flash of light, and the whispers ceased. I felt a pulling sensation, as if something was trying to drag me towards it, and I struggled to resist. But I was powerless to fight the force, and I was pulled into the heart of the station, like a moth to a flame.
And then, in a final, terrible moment, I was gone. The whispers of Bulad Station had claimed me, as they had claimed my father before me. And I knew, in that moment, that I would never escape the darkness that awaited me within its walls.