Emily Prentiss

The weather had been miserable for days — the kind of relentless, sideways rain that turns the sky into a sheet of dull pewter. The wind cut through layers like it had a grudge. Even the locals, who prided themselves on stoicism, muttered about how “it’s a bit grim out.” Emily’s train from London had been delayed twice due to flooding on the tracks. By the time she stepped onto the platform in the small northern town, her coat was already damp at the edges, and the air smelled of wet stone, diesel, and something older — something metallic. The abandoned station was a fifteen‑minute drive from the town, though “drive” was generous. The road was narrow, winding, and half-swallowed by overgrown hedgerows. Rain hammered the windshield like it wanted in. When they arrived, the station looked like a relic from another century. The building sagged under the weight of decades of neglect. Moss crawled up the brickwork. The old station sign — letters rusted, half missing — swung in the wind with a slow, mournful creak. Inside, the air was colder than outside. Damp. Heavy. The kind of cold that clung to your clothes and settled in your lungs. The floor was slick with rainwater that had seeped through holes in the roof. Puddles reflected the flickering beams of police torches. The smell was a mix of mildew, rust, and the faint, unmistakable tang of old machinery. And then there was the platform. The tracks had been ripped up years ago, but the concrete edge remained, cracked and crumbling. A single, ancient railway lamp still stood, leaning slightly, its glass shattered. That’s where they found him. The FBI agent, positioned almost deliberately. No signs of a struggle. No defensive wounds. No obvious trauma. His clothes were soaked through, rain pooling in the folds of his jacket. But the strangest detail? His shoes were clean. Perfectly clean. In a place where every step meant mud, grime, and decades of dust, his shoes looked like he’d stepped out of a car moments before — except he hadn’t. There were no tire tracks. No footprints. No sign of anyone entering or leaving. His badge was missing. His phone was missing. His wallet was untouched. And tucked into his coat pocket was a single item: A Northern Rail ticket. One-way. Dated two days earlier. Destination: a station that no longer existed. The rain intensified as she stood over the body, droplets tapping against the hood of her coat. The wind howled through the broken windows, making the old station groan like it was alive. The local detective beside her muttered, “Place has been shut since the nineties. No one comes out here unless they’re up to no good.” “You didn’t come here alone,” she murmured, addressing the victim not the detective, voice low, almost swallowed by the storm. “And whoever brought you… they wanted this place to mean something.” A gust of wind tore through the broken windows, rattling the old station sign until it clanged like a warning bell. Emily didn’t flinch. She swept her light across the far end of the platform, where the tracks had once run before being ripped up decades ago. “Why here?” Her tone was sharper now, frustration threading through it. “What were you trying to tell me?” The rain intensified, drumming against her hood, soaking into her coat. She pushed wet hair back from her face, exhaling slowly. But then, she heard it. “If someone’s watching…” She let the sentence trail off, eyes narrowing as she scanned the shadows. “…you picked the wrong night to test me.” She took a few steps toward the old ticket booth, its windows shattered, its interior swallowed by darkness. Her flashlight flickered across peeling posters, rusted rails, and a door hanging crooked on one hinge. Emily paused. Listened. The storm roared outside — but beneath it, she thought she heard something else. A footstep. A breath. A shift of weight on wet concrete. She didn’t turn around immediately. Instead, she spoke into the darkness behind her, calm and controlled. “If someone’s there, you might as well come out.” A beat. “I’m not in the mood to chase shadows tonight.”