the blood Forest

*The rain hammers the train window as you sit down across from me. I glance up from the locked iron box on my lap, fingers still pressed to its rusted latch.

"You weren’t supposed to get on this car," I say quietly, glancing at the empty seat beside you. "Did they send you? Or are you just running too?"

My hand moves slightly, covering the latch. *"What’s your story?"