I, the screenwriter, have experienced a resurgence of inspiration.

The woman's face flashed by in the darkness.

It was so light and fast that it made no sound at all.

Just as Zhao Weilai's gaze followed the direction, the British player sitting on the other side suddenly stood up.

He stared intently out the car window, his face draining of all color from his face in an instant.

His lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single word for a long time.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?"

The player next to him was startled by his reaction and quickly asked.

The man's gaze was fixed on the window, a hoarse sound emanating from his throat, as if someone were choking him.

"I saw...a shadow...a bird flew by, no, not a bird, it was a person, a woman—"

Everyone looked in the direction he pointed, but there was only thick darkness outside the window, nothing at all.

But no one took his words as a joke.

Lying will lead to an explosion.

The fact that the man is still standing here unharmed means he wasn't joking.

"I didn't see wrong!"

The player seemed to misunderstand the silence around them, turning around with eyes full of terror:

"I've studied the Celtic mythology system, and I can't be mistaken, that thing... is a banshee."

Legend has it that she brings omens of death, appearing on the rooftops of buildings where death is about to occur.

What does this mean?

Someone will die tonight.

Who was the dead person?

Is it you, him, or—me?

The atmosphere inside the carriage was even more oppressive, the air almost frozen solid.

Everyone's gaze wandered, looking at each of their companions' faces one by one, as if trying to find some sign of death.

Zhao Weilai's heart pounded; she realized that something unusual had happened on the second night.

I seemed to hear some kind of faint sound.

It was like someone whispering in her ear, a buzzing sound that made it hard to hear what was being said, but it tickled her eardrums.

Zhao Weilai took a deep breath and turned his head.

However, she was only accompanied by Weng Yang and Mu Xiao, who were both looking around warily, and no one came near her.

She reached up and touched her ears, but there was nothing there.

But the feeling of being watched, and the whispers in my ear, became clearer and clearer.

"What's wrong?"

Weng Yang noticed Zhao Weilai's actions and asked him in a low voice with concern, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a colorful shadow running past his feet.

The thing moved very quickly, disappearing under the seat in the blink of an eye.

It almost made her doubt whether she was seeing things.

"It's alright." Zhao Weilai pursed his lips, hugged the butcher knife in his arms tightly, and secretly prayed that the night would pass quickly.

Time ticked by, and the harbinger of death appeared more and more frequently.

No one spoke in the carriage, only suppressed coughs and breathing. The old lights overhead cast shadows on each face, making it impossible to see their expressions.

Pairs of bloodshot eyes lay open, none of them able to sleep.

"Tap, tap, tap."

"Tap, tap, tap."

The knocking on the car window became more and more frequent, as if a polite visitor was standing outside, repeatedly asking if he could come in.

Most players choose to close their eyes and not think or look.

A thin layer of fog condensed on the glass, and outside was an impenetrable darkness.

Then came a faint sobbing sound, as if it came from a great distance, from an unknown place, seeping through the glass.

The already tense atmosphere was instantly heightened by this sound.

"Ah—! I heard it, I heard it! She saw me, she saw me! She's coming to take me away!"

A player sitting by the window suddenly let out a piercing scream and tumbled and fell down.

She frantically tried to back away, her face deathly pale, her whole body trembling like a leaf.

A woman's face.

Its skin was a dead man's bluish-gray, its eyes were large and round, its nose was pointed and hooked, and the feather-like patterns on the sides of its face were clearly visible.

She was pressed against the glass, her nose flattened, staring intently at the people inside the carriage through the window.

The distance is too close.

Players nearby could see every tiny hair on her face and the dim yellow light reflected in her eyes.

"What is that! What is that thing?!"

"A ghost! It's a ghost!"

"**! ****! A banshee, it's a banshee!"

Screams and curses mingled together as all the players instinctively crowded around the veteran players.

Zhao Weilai gripped the butcher knife tightly, took a step forward, and stood in front of Weng Yang and Mu Xiao, staring intently at the face reflected in the car window.

Fortunately, that face only stayed for a second.

The next second, it disappeared just as suddenly as it had appeared.

Only a layer of fog remained on the glass.

"What the hell is she trying to do?! Damn it! ***!"

"It's gone...?"

"I saw it! I just saw it! The face looks like an owl."

"I saw it too, it was a woman! A woman's face, a harbinger of death, she's come to announce death, someone will die tonight!"

The carriage was in chaos; everyone was talking, and their voices betrayed their fear.

Just as Zhao Weilai was about to try to calm the players down, Weng Yang shouted, "Look at the ground! There's something there!"

Zhao Weilai immediately lowered his head.

—On the floor of the carriage aisle, a small, dark shadow darted past at an extremely fast speed.

The shadow was only the size of a palm, its outline resembling a tiny person with a head and limbs, and it ran very fast.

It crawled out from under the seat, darted into the shadows at the other end of the carriage, and vanished in an instant.

more than one.

Then, a second, a third... countless tiny shadows emerged from under the seats, in the cracks of the floor, and in the corners of the carriage.

Like a group of frightened mice, they darted across the floor and disappeared into the darkness in the blink of an eye.

"What is that?!"

"A rat? No! It looks like a person!"

"Too small... How can there be such a small person?"

"What is that?! Don't come any closer!"

Exclamations of alarm came one after another, and the panic in the carriage grew increasingly intense.

Many players huddled in their seats, holding their heads in their hands, muttering something under their breath, their voices trembling so much they were almost inaudible.

"Quiet! Quiet down!"

Margaret stepped forward, her voice carrying a strange gentleness:

"Everything is a test sent by the Lord, and we should accept it and praise it."

Her words quieted the chaotic crowd slightly, but everyone remained terrified.

Everyone's eyes kept scanning the car windows and the floor, afraid that something might break through the window at any moment.

Someone walked up to the player who had first shouted and whispered, "You said you recognized that thing? Does the Banshee always cause deaths where it appears?"

All eyes immediately turned to that player.

"A banshee of death?"

Someone repeated the word, their face full of confusion.

However, several local British players turned pale the moment they heard the name.

"The banshee is a female demon in Celtic legend... She is the messenger of death, and she will appear wherever someone is about to die."

She would weep for the dying, and anyone who heard her weeping would surely die…

"Legend has it that she has a woman's body, wears a gray cloak... she can knock on windows, fly on rooftops, and wherever she appears, someone will surely die... she always will..."

The player's voice wasn't loud, but it instantly stirred up a huge wave of discussion.

Fear spread rapidly through the train carriage like a plague.

The dim light fell on everyone's faces, illuminating clearly all the expressions of fear, doubt, and despair.

Everyone sized each other up, their eyes filled with suspicion—who was the banshee after? Who was the one destined to die?

……

……

Zhao Weilai frowned and looked at Weng Yang: "What do you think?"

"It's hard to say. We're in Great Britain now, so it's normal to see Great British ghosts."

Weng Yang's hand remained on the gun; she shook her head.

"After all, anything can happen in a dungeon."

—If lying can lead to a headshot, then what is impossible for a banshee who foretells her death?

Mu Xiao, standing to the side, lowered her voice and added:

"The banshee is a very classic death spirit in Celtic mythology. She truly foretells death, and legend has it that her cries are the announcement of death."

"Whether she kills someone or not."

The Orthodox priest standing nearby looked serious. "The biggest problem now isn't the banshees, it's the people, ladies. We're in trouble."

Everyone else immediately understood what he meant.

The players are already pushed to their limits, and everyone's already tense nerves could snap at any moment.

When people are in a state of extreme fear, they are capable of anything.

On the other end, the plump Margaret was holding a player's hand, her voice calm:

"Child, do not be afraid. All of this was foreseen by the Lord. He has arranged everything. Someone is destined to die tonight, so He has sent the banshee who brings death... This is destiny."

Weng Yang realized something was wrong, but it was too late.

The carriage was in complete chaos.

"A crying sound... I think I heard crying..."

"I didn't hear it; only the dying can hear it."

"Wait... be quiet, I think I heard... a sobbing sound... like a woman crying..."

A male player wearing a hoodie suddenly spoke up, his whole body trembling, "I heard it... I heard crying..."

As soon as he said that, the people around him instantly retreated like a tide.

Everyone kept their distance, their eyes wary, as if he were infected with a deadly plague.

Immediately afterwards, several more people looked on with despair:

"I heard it too... outside the window... a woman crying..."

"Me too... I keep hearing crying in my ears... What should I do? Am I going to die?"

"I don't want to die... I don't want to die... Merciful Lord..."

In the corner, Nina kept her head down, like a background figure.