NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The Train With No Light
Once you board the Hollowmoor Express, there is no return. Not even death is a way out."
Elara didn't pack a suitcase.
She didn't even think about it.
She stood frozen at the window, watching the dark train hiss to a stop behind her apartment. There were no tracks beneath it. No lights on it. Only thick black smoke that twisted in the rain like it was alive.
It looked old—like something from another time. A shadow from a war. Rusted metal, iron bones, windows like staring eyes. And one door, slowly creaking open.
Elara's heart thumped hard.
She grabbed her backpack and shoved in the only things she could think of: a toothbrush, her phone (though it was dead), a sweater, a pocketknife, and a notebook. No charger. No ID. No goodbye.
Who would she even say goodbye to?
She stepped outside into the rain.
The train was silent, but it felt loud—like it was humming through her bones. Each step she took toward it made the air colder. She looked back only once, at the small building she'd called home.
She didn't know it yet, but she would never see it again.
The train door creaked wider.
Inside was dim, lit only by strange lanterns that glowed pale blue. The hallway stretched far, curving out of sight. Everything smelled like dust, oil, and old paper.
Elara stepped in.
The door slammed shut behind her.
No conductor. No welcome.
Just silence—and movement. The train began to glide forward without warning. No shaking. No noise.
The hallway in front of her split into two doors, each marked in gold:
"First Years"
"Others"
She hesitated.
She opened the door labeled First Years.
Inside was a wide carriage full of tall-backed velvet seats, black curtains, and more blue lanterns. There were others here—about ten students, all around her age. They looked just as confused and scared.
Some were whispering to each other. Some sat alone, eyes wide and staring. Most held the same black envelope she had.
Elara took a seat near the window and said nothing.
No one greeted her. No one explained anything. And no one asked why the train had no tracks.
The carriage smelled faintly like roses and ash.
After a while, the train passed through a thick tunnel. Outside the window, the world disappeared. Only darkness.
That's when the whispers began.
At first, she thought it was someone behind her.
But when she turned around, no one was speaking.
Then she realized it was coming from the walls.
Faint voices, like hundreds of people speaking just under their breath, all at once.
She leaned closer to the wooden panel beside her seat. A cold whisper tickled her ear:
"We see you, Elara. We remember your name."
She jumped back so hard she hit the seat in front of her.
No one else reacted.
Were they hearing it too?
She looked around. Two boys near the front were arguing in hushed tones. A girl across the aisle was staring at her hands, which were covered in ink for some reason. No one seemed to hear the whisper.
Her breath was sharp in her chest.
And then the voice came again, closer this time:
"You will bleed. And you will read."
Elara stood up.
She almost ran to the door at the end of the carriage, but it wouldn't open. No matter how hard she pulled.
Behind her, the lanterns dimmed.
The train curved again, this time sharply, and she stumbled forward. Something brushed against her leg—cold and wet. She gasped.
A rat?
No. Not a rat.
She looked down.
Nothing was there.
But her leg was wet.
The girl across the aisle looked up and spoke for the first time.
"You heard them too, didn't you?"
Her voice was soft, but steady. Her eyes were dark and sharp—too sharp for someone who looked about seventeen.
Elara hesitated. "...You mean the whispering?"
The girl nodded.
"It's the train. It remembers."
"Remembers what?"
"All of us. Every student who ever rode it. Every name. Every secret."
She said it like she was talking about a person.
Elara sat down slowly, her heartbeat still wild. "What is this place?"
The girl gave a small smile. "Hollowmoor's test."
Elara blinked. "What kind of test?"
"Not all who board the train make it to the school."
The next few hours passed in a fog of cold and silence. The train didn't stop. No one got off. The windows showed nothing but black smoke and shadow.
Somewhere in the distance, a clock began to chime.
Elara counted: eleven.
Another hour to midnight.
The girl beside her spoke again. "What's your name?"
"Elara."
"Elara Wynne?" She nodded.
The girl went pale. "I shouldn't be near you."
"What?"
But the girl got up and moved to the far end of the carriage without another word.
Elara sat there, stunned.
How did she know her full name?
And why did it scare her?
Then the train lights flickered.
The doors between carriages slammed open.
A man stepped in.
But he didn't walk.
He glided.
His skin was pale as bone. He wore a long black coat that shimmered like snake skin. His eyes were completely black—no whites, no pupils. He moved silently between the rows of seats, looking at each student one by one.
No one dared speak.
Then he stopped at Elara's seat.
His voice was low, deep, and soft. "Do you have the letter?"
She nodded slowly, reaching into her bag.
He held out a gloved hand. She gave him the parchment.
He stared at it. His face was impossible to read.
Then he spoke again.
"Your blood accepted the terms. The contract is binding. You may proceed."
He turned to the others.
"One student will not make it to Hollowmoor tonight. One seat will be empty by dawn. Make peace with that truth."
And then—he vanished.
Gasps filled the carriage.
Whispers exploded.
"Elara, what did you do?" someone hissed.
"She gave blood—she made a contract."
"That's forbidden!"
"I thought it was just ink—"
Elara stood up. "What does it mean? What contract?"
But no one answered.
The lights flickered again—and all the windows turned white.
Snow.
The train was climbing into the mountains now.
In the distance, a tall spire of black stone rose above the clouds.
Hollowmoor.
It looked like a castle pulled from the ground by its roots. Towers bent in strange directions. Lights flickered behind narrow windows. Storm clouds spun above it like a halo.
Elara couldn't breathe.
It was real.
All of it.
Then someone screamed.
She turned fast—one of the students was on the floor, shaking. His skin was turning grey. His eyes rolled back.
The air grew colder.
Frost climbed the walls.
The whispering returned—but now it was louder. Clearer.
"He does not belong. He never should have entered."
Elara stepped back, heart pounding. The boy stopped moving.
Dead.
Just like that.
The girl across the aisle whispered, "He wasn't chosen. The Grimoire didn't want him."
"What Grimoire?"
The girl looked up.
"The one that waits at Hollowmoor. The one that remembers everything."
The train slowed.
The mountains rose like teeth outside.
Lights blinked on across a bridge of black stone.
A voice echoed through the carriage:
"All first-years, prepare to disembark. Leave what you fear behind."
Elara didn't know what she feared most.
The school?
The book?
Or the way the train had said her name before she even spoke it out loud.