The Terminal's Haunting Echoes

The rain was relentless, hammering against the glass of Heaven's Terminal with a ferocity that matched the storm inside my heart. I had come here, to this forsaken place, on a mission that felt as impossible as it was urgent. The legend of the Wraith's Lament had followed me since childhood, a tale of a soul trapped in the terminal, its ghostly wails echoing through the night. Now, as an adult, I was determined to uncover the truth behind the legend.

The terminal was a relic of a bygone era, its grandiose architecture now a skeleton of its former self. Rusting trains sat idly on the tracks, their windows fogged with the cold mist of the storm. I pushed open the heavy wooden doors, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the emptiness. The air was thick with the scent of damp wood and the faint stench of decay.

I had been drawn here by the whispers of the locals, by the tales of those who had dared to venture into the terminal at night. They spoke of ghostly apparitions, of a woman in a flowing white dress who wandered the platforms, her eyes hollow and filled with sorrow. But it was the Wraith's Lament that had always haunted me—the haunting melody that seemed to come from nowhere, a siren call that beckoned the lost to their doom.

I approached the central platform, my flashlight cutting through the darkness. The floor was slick with rainwater, and the cold seeped into my bones. I could feel the presence of something watching, something unseen, something waiting. The air grew colder, and I shivered, despite the warmth of my coat.

Suddenly, the melody began—a haunting, ethereal tune that seemed to come from everywhere at once. My heart raced as I followed the sound, my flashlight beam cutting through the darkness. I reached the end of the platform, where the tracks curved into the distance. There, standing in the rain, was the figure of a woman, her white dress billowing around her as if caught in a wind that wasn't there.

I stepped closer, my flashlight illuminating her face. Her eyes were wide with terror, her mouth agape as if she was trying to scream but couldn't. I could see the outline of a man standing behind her, his hands wrapped around her throat. He was tall and gaunt, his face twisted in a grotesque expression of rage and sorrow.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice trembling.

The woman looked at me, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and despair. "Please, help me," she whispered.

Before I could react, the man lunged forward, his hands tightening around her neck. I raised my flashlight, aiming it directly at his eyes. The light blazed into his face, and he stumbled back, his grip loosening. The woman fell to the ground, gasping for breath.

"Who are you?" I repeated, my voice steady now.

The woman looked up at me, her eyes clearing. "I am... I was... your mother," she gasped.

I stood there, frozen, my mind racing. My mother had died years ago, but the image of her face, the sound of her voice, were etched into my memory. Could this be her?

The man, now on his knees, began to sob. "I didn't mean to... I was trying to protect her," he wailed.

I knelt beside the woman, my hand on her shoulder. "Tell me what happened," I said gently.

The woman's eyes filled with tears as she began to speak. "We were on our way to visit my parents when the train... the train... it... it..."

Her voice trailed off, and she looked at the man, who was now standing beside us, his face contorted in pain. "The train... it... it derailed," he finished for her.

I looked at the tracks, the tracks that had once carried my mother and her lover to their doom. The sound of the train's wheels screeching to a halt was still echoing in my mind.

"We need to get out of here," I said, helping the woman to her feet.

The man nodded, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and gratitude. We made our way to the exit, the rain still pouring down around us. As we stepped out into the night, I looked back at the terminal, its windows now dark and silent.

The legend of the Wraith's Lament had been true, but it was a story of love and loss, of a mother's sacrifice and a son's guilt. I had found the answers I had sought, but at a cost that I would never fully understand.

The rain continued to fall, but the storm inside me had begun to clear. I knew that I would never forget the haunting echoes of Heaven's Terminal, or the woman who had shown me the face of my mother, a face that had been hidden from me for so long.