Max Henderson, a detective of two years.

Found himself at a bus stop in East Vensing, a city know for its crime rate, gang activity, and murders.

Not a safe place to be walking around at night...probably not even safe durring the day.

It was a cold, damp, and raw night.

Rain was falling from the sky like World War ll bombs being dropped.

The only thing separating Max from the rain was the bus stop waiting booth.

It had a flimsy tin roof with a leak in one of the corners. The graffitied bench he sat upon along with the smashed windows, dim light that made an annoying buzzing sound and would flicker every so often. It really made for a depressing atmosphere.

Max was called in to investigate the disappearance of a couple of kids.

But what was really fucked about this case was that it wasn't just a few kids.

No, it was an entire class of kids and teachers, they vanished, without any trace.

Max Turned his attention to lights to the left of him getting closer.

"Must be the bus." He said out loud to himself.

The bus pulled up in front of him, the doors slowly opend with a squeak. He made his way up the stairs.

The bus driver was a lady, probably in her late 50s, gray matted thick hair, lots of creases in her face and kinda fat.

She wore a blue uniform along with a name tag that read in neat cursive, Mary. She looked pissed.

Max reached into his pocket pulling out $40 he handed it to her.

She made an exhausted face as she took it from his hands.

Now at the back of the bus, names were written into the wall with sharpie, the bus smelt like weed.

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