The bus hummed steadily down the moonlit highway, taillights glowing red against the dark stretch of backcountry blacktop. The pack was scattered across the interior—some sprawled on couches, some curled into bunks, gear rattling faintly in the belly of the beast. The afterglow of the last gig still lingered, a buzzing warmth under their skin.
Up front, Diesel leaned back in the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel, the other holding his ever-present thermos of truck-stop rocket fuel. The old road dog grinned at the empty two-lane ahead.
“Alright, weirdos… where to next?”
Emily, seated just behind him with her tablet and headphones, blinked as an alert popped up. She squinted at the screen, then turned to shout down the aisle.
“Hey! You’re not gonna believe this—”
Cassie peeked out from behind the curtain of her bunk. “Is it another bootleg fur-fest? Because I swear to god if someone makes a ‘Paws and Praise’ remix again —”
“No,” Emily said, eyes wide, tapping her screen. “It’s… a castle.”
There was a beat.
Jonah’s voice called from the back: “You mean like a Cracker Barrel that looks like a castle or an actual castle?”
Emily turned the screen so everyone could see.
The image was unmistakable: a massive stone structure with spires and towers rising above a forested hill… and a banner stretched across the front gates reading:
“Midnight Masquerade: A Gothic Gala for the Ages”
Featuring live music from Feral Eclipse.
Thane narrowed his eyes. “…I didn’t agree to that.”
“Technically,” Emily said sheepishly, “the promoter’s email went to spam. It’s already sold out. Thousands of people. Half in costume. There’s, uh… a moat?”
Gabriel sprang to his paws, tail wagging in wide loops. “A moat?! Do we get to cross a drawbridge?!”
Maya leaned over the back of the couch. “Why does this feel like a setup for a Scooby-Doo episode?”
Mark grunted from where he was tightening a case strap. “If there’s a guy in a rubber mask, I’m out.”
Cassie emerged fully from her bunk, eyes gleaming. “Goth masquerade, castle venue, and a literal pack of wolves with stage passes? Oh yeah. Let’s go give the undead something to dance to.”
Diesel just chuckled. “Alright then, buckle up, kids. Looks like your next gig… is in a fairytale.”
The engine roared. The bus picked up speed.
And somewhere in the distance, the silhouette of a stone fortress rose against the starlit sky — awaiting its pack of midnight legends.