The legend of the midnight express began not with a scream, but with a whisper. Five years ago, on a route identical to this one, a man named Arthur Finch vanished from a moving train. He was there one moment, and gone the next. No broken windows, no signs of a struggle. The only thing he left behind was a small, creased piece of paper on his empty seat. On it, scrawled in a frantic hand, were ...
