Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
The Secret of the Midnight Train
墨書 Inktalez
The Silver Dream slowly traversed the snowy night. Outside the train, snowflakes danced wildly in the wind, cutting through the world like blades, as if seeking to bury everything beneath their white shroud. Inside the carriage, soft lights and warm air formed a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The lavish decor, classical seating, and exquisite tableware all exuded luxury and opulence. Yet, none of this beauty and tranquility could mask the growing unease within Jason Harper.
Jason sat by the window, an old book spread open on the table before him, though his gaze frequently drifted outside. Snowflakes relentlessly pounded against the glass, as if the entire world had succumbed to an endless white fog. His thoughts floated aimlessly, his heart unable to find peace. As a former investigator for an international police organization, his instincts told him that everything aboard this train was far from simple. Each passenger seemed to carry their own secrets, and those secrets would inevitably erupt within this confined space.
This luxurious train journey from London to Paris was filled with a diverse array of passengers. In the first-class carriage were financial tycoons in splendid suits, aristocrats from noble families, and renowned artists and scholars. Jason's gaze swept over these passengers; he noticed a hint of undeniable tension and urgency in each person's eyes, as if they were all waiting for something or trying to evade something.
The air in the carriage felt heavy, with faint scents of perfume and alcohol lingering around each seat. Outside, the blizzard intensified; the train's speed gradually slowed down, and the metallic clatter echoed throughout the carriage, reminding every passenger that the world outside was becoming increasingly unpredictable.
As night fell, the storm grew fiercer, and the outside world seemed swallowed by snow; darkness pressed down on the entire carriage. Jason looked into the distance but saw no glimmer of hope. Suddenly, the train jolted violently, followed by a sharp screech of brakes that pierced through the air. The entire train came to an abrupt halt, filling the atmosphere with tension and unease.
"All passengers remain in your compartments and stay calm," a voice crackled through the intercom—clear yet hurried, tinged with a hint of panic.
Jason furrowed his brow and stood up, moving toward the window. Outside was pitch black; snowflakes swirled furiously, rendering visibility nearly impossible. Clearly, the train had become trapped in some unknown location and could not proceed.
He turned to return to his seat when suddenly a rapid knocking echoed at his door.
"Mr. Harper, please come with me; something is amiss," a staff member appeared at the door, looking frantic and seemingly overwhelmed by an indescribable fear.
Jason felt a stir of apprehension within him; he immediately realized that things might not be as straightforward as he had thought. Without asking further questions, he followed the staff member out of his compartment. They walked down the long carriage, stepping carefully on the snow-covered floor. Each step Jason took seemed to resonate in the silent air; every nerve in his body was on high alert.
"He’s dead," the staff member stammered almost incoherently, his voice trembling with unmistakable dread.
"Who?" Jason asked calmly, fixing his gaze intently on the staff member.
“Do you know Arthur Fernandez?” The staff member looked anxiously at Jason, clearly unprepared to face this situation.
A chill suddenly crept into Jason's heart. The name Arthur Fernandez was not unfamiliar to him. Fernandez was a prominent financial magnate with a vast business empire, often at the center of discussions due to various scandals and undisclosed dealings. This man appeared in high society gatherings with an enigmatic aura, adored by the elite yet shrouded in dark secrets.
“How did he die?” Jason asked succinctly, not probing further.
The staff member hesitated for a moment, a hint of indescribable fear flickering in his eyes. “We opened his compartment and found him lying on the bed, with clear strangulation marks on his neck. It was evident he had been murdered.”
Jason furrowed his brow, feeling an increasing sense of unease. He knew that the blizzard had cut off access to the outside world, and communications were down. Everyone on this train, including himself, was temporarily trapped on these cold tracks. In this confined space, a mysterious death had quietly begun to unravel a web of intrigue.
They soon arrived at Fernandez's compartment. The door was tightly locked. The staff member retrieved a spare key and gently turned it; the door clicked softly before slowly swinging open. As Jason stepped inside, an unsettling chill washed over him. Fernandez's body lay peacefully on the bed, his expression serene, yet the marks around his neck were starkly evident. There were no signs of struggle; everything in the room seemed oddly pristine, as if death had never disturbed this tranquility.
Jason's gaze quickly swept across the room. The clock on the wall continued to tick, and light filtered through the curtains onto the floor, casting faint shadows. There were no signs of destruction or chaos; it was as if the life of the deceased had quietly slipped away in that very moment.
“He's dead,” the staff member's voice broke through again, tinged with unmistakable terror.
Jason approached the bed slowly, looking down at the cold body. His instincts told him this was not a simple murder but rather a meticulously orchestrated trap hiding deeper secrets. He sighed softly, a strong premonition swelling within him—this storm would inevitably lead to an unavoidable nightmare.
“No signs of struggle?” he whispered.
“None,” the staff member shook his head, confusion etched in his eyes.
Jason felt even more alert; this was not merely a man who had died violently but part of a game that had long been set in motion, and he happened to be a witness to this unfolding drama.
Comment 0 Comment Count