A banker, a chef, and a student board a late-night bus in R K Puram, Delhi, only to face a chilling encounter with a ghostly entity.
Late one night in R K Puram Sector 4, the streets lay empty under a dim orange haze. Aman, a banker at HDFD Bank, had missed his usual ride and hurried to catch the last bus. Onboard were Neha, a chef in restaurant near Safdarjung Enclave, returning from a visit to her sister’s house, and Kunal, a college student and budding cricket player carrying his bat.
The bus was eerily quiet as they settled into their seats. A gust of cold air swept through, despite the summer heat. At the next stop, a man in tattered clothes boarded. His hollow eyes scanned the passengers before he settled at the back, head down.
The driver spoke in a hushed tone to the conductor, glancing nervously at the rearview mirror. Aman noticed the unusual tension but stayed quiet. As the bus rumbled on, Neha’s son began crying without reason, his tiny fists clenched as if sensing something amiss.
Then the lights flickered. A strange metallic screech echoed, and the bus shuddered to a halt. The man at the back stood, his head snapping unnaturally to one side. His hollow eyes were now glowing faintly. “I’m glad you all are with me for this journey,” he growled in a voice that wasn’t human.
The passengers panicked. Neha clutched her children, Aman reached for his phone, and Kunal gripped his bat. But no signal, no way out. The man began to approach, his footsteps slow yet deafening.
Just as chaos peaked, the conductor whispered, “This route… it’s cursed. No one ever makes it past midnight.”
The bus doors slammed shut. Outside, R K Puram remained still, unaware of the horrors unfolding within.
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