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Lights Reported at Ferryman’s Road Gas Station, 26 Years After Massacre
For the first time in more than two decades, lights are said to be burning inside the abandoned gas station on Ferryman’s Road.
Several motorists travelling through the northern woods have reported seeing the station’s fluorescent lights aglow in the hours past midnight, and claim its roadside sign has begun flickering again, despite the property having stood without power, fuel, or a registered owner for over twenty-six years.
The station has remained vacant ever since the Rothville Incident, a massacre which claimed the lives of five people and left its sole survivor confined to Torn Hill Asylum.
On the night of the killings, attendant Alicia Rothville (21) was working alongside night manager Evan Olivera (29), in the presence of the station’s owner; Rocky Morzano (46), an infamous Torn City mobster with longstanding ties to organized crime. Also present were three customers: Wallace Leifront (24); Sophia Cho (36); and Kurt Ramsey (39).
By morning, all but Alicia Rothville were found brutalized on the station’s premises.
At sunrise Rothville was discovered several miles from the station, walking down Ferryman’s Road toward Torn City. Her uniform, hands, and face were covered in the blood of the victims. The meat cleaver believed to have been the primary murder weapon still clutched in her grasp.
She was arrested without resistance.
Rothville, who stood at a height of only 5’4”, had no prior history of violence. Yet she was accused of overpowering five adults, including an armed Morzano and Kurt Ramsey, a large man who was described by acquaintances to be a trained veteran of exceptional built.
There were no indications that Rothville had received any assistance. No second suspect was identified, and no clear evidence suggested that any of the victims had turned upon one another.
The autopsy reports suggest the wounds were all inflicted by blunt force trauma, the suspect's meat cleaver, and bite marks matching the Rothville’s dental records.
The station’s surveillance system offered no answers. Every recording made that night was found corrupted beyond recovery.
During questioning, Rothville claimed to have no memory of the night itself, but offered up a series of increasingly bizarre accounts of her time at the station. She spoke of footsteps beneath the concrete floor, faces watching from the darkened forest and voices speaking through the fuel nozzles at the pumps. She claimed the building grew in scope after midnight, with new corridors appearing where a coolers should have been.
Psychiatrists found her incapable of distinguishing reality from delusion. Her accounts of supernatural activity, combined with evidence of severe psychological disturbance, contributed to a verdict of not guilty by reason of insanity. She was committed indefinitely to Torn Hill Asylum, where she, now aged 47, remains as a ward of the state.
The killings accelerated the decline of Ferryman’s Road, a once a minor route into Torn City. As newer roads opened, most residents abandoned the forest passage altogether. The station deteriorated, its windows were boarded up, its forecourt slowly consumed by weeds.
No business license has been issued for the property since. City records show no proof restoration work, utility reconnection or approved transfer of ownership.
Nevertheless, reports of activity have continued to spread.
One driver claims to have seen an attendant standing motionless beneath a streetlight. Another reported passing the station twice during the same journey out of Torn.
Police have advised motorists not to enter the property, citing the instability of the structure and the possibility of criminal faction’s using portable generators inside the property.
However, those statements have not satisfied the curiosity of many.
All this recent attention brings to mind how with one of her final statements before being transferred to Torn Hill, Rothville reportedly warned that the station had not been closed ‘correctly’.
(Source: Tabloid Paper, 'Torn in Depth', February 13th, 2026)
Ancient blood, fuel of the ignorant.
Ignorant blood, fuel of the ancient.
(Source: Words drawn on the gas station's windows, the night of the massacre. Photographed and preserved in an old Torn City Times newspaper article, October 22th, 2000.)
Got this lousy habit, see? Pickin' up every call from some mook with a unknown number. Nine times outta ten it's some scam artist or a robocall tryin' to sell me a load of garbage. So this one rings, private number. I figure, "Here we go again."
Only... nothin'.
No cheerful broad. No tin-can robot readin' off a script. Just breathing. Slow. Heavy. Ten seconds, maybe more. Long enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
Then this voice finally pipes up. Couldn't tell if it belonged to a fella or a dame. Scratchy. Flat. Says they got a job for me.
"Gas station on Ferryman's Road."
That's it.
Says they're bringin' in a buncha new bloods. Reshapin' 'em. I figure they're talkin' Free Trainin'. Breakin' in greenhorns. They say they'd appreciate a seasoned hand givin' the kids a leg up,
Maybe it's legit. Maybe it ain’t. Either way, curiosity's got me by the collar.
Figure I'll pay the place a visit.
(Source: Anecdotal last conversation Pete Carnley held with his friend Leo Peterson at Wood’s Tavern, the night of his disappearance, June 2th 2026.)
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