I was a trucker. This happened to me four weeks ago.
It was about 11:34 pm, and it was raining heavily outside. Real torrential stuff and the trees were all freaking wagging like dog tails. My windshield looked like a waterfall, and my headlights could just barely illuminate the road ahead of me. I’ve driven through storms before, but I’d never seen anything like this. It was a real pain in the ass. But, it was also kind of cozy at the same time, me being in my nice warm truck and listening to the rain pattering on the roof. It was so soothing that my lids started to feel a little heavy, and the coffee wasn’t helping all that much.
Up ahead, I could see someone walking along the side of the road. As my headlights neared the figure, I saw that it was a man. All he was wearing was a dark green overcoat, dark trousers, and muddy boots. I was frigging flabbergasted. Why would anybody be out in this kind of weather? Plus he wasn’t wearing the appropriate attire.
I started feeling kind of bad for the guy. Now, us truckers aren’t allowed to take in hitchhikers. We need permission to allow someone else into the truck. Not to mention it isn’t always safe to allow some random person into the vehicle. But I’m a pretty empathetic guy, I was just raised that way. I just didn’t feel right to leave that man out there in that crappy weather. Plus, I’m a decently big guy, so I thought I could handle myself if this guy tried anything.
I honked my horn and slowed my truck to a stop. The man stopped walking and looked over at my truck. I rolled down the windshield and called to him.
“Hey! Do you need a ride? It’s pissing down out here!”
The man cocked his head to the side and continued to stare at me.
“Its alright. I’m just a truck driver! I don’t bite!”
The man stood there, silently regarding me. Then he started walking towards my truck slowly. I rolled my window back up, and then I opened the passenger door for him. When he appeared at the door and I got a close-up look at him, my eyes widened.
This guy was huge, bigger than I was. Real tall, and sort of “wiry-strong” built. His face was really weird looking. It was long and very sharply featured, and his jawline was very narrow. His nose was broad and flat, his lips were thin and colourless, and his hair was long and slicked back, reaching down to the base of his neck. His skin was as pale as the damn moon.
The strangest thing about him though was his eyes. They were big and very vibrant green in colour. I’d never seen anything like them before. They kind of reminded me of a cat’s eyes. They were just… uncanny.
The man entered my truck, sat down in the passenger seat, and shut the door. Then he put his seatbelt on. He didn’t have any luggage with him or anything. All he had was the clothes on his back. However, I did notice something in one of the pockets on his overcoat, and I thought it might have been his wallet.
“So, where do you need to go?” I asked the man, trying to sound as friendly as possible.
The man just glanced at me and said:
“Are there any towns near here?”
“Do you need to go to any specific ones?” I asked.
“No.” Answered the man.
“Well, would it be okay if I drop you off in the town I’m heading to?”
“Yeah, that sounds fine.”
We drove in silence for a few minutes. The only noise was the rain pattering on the roof, and the mechanical whirring of the windshield wipers vainly trying to keep the windshield from being engulfed. The man was mostly just staring out the passenger window, or occasionally glancing at the windshield. Eventually, the silence got a bit awkward for me, so I tried starting up a conversation.
“So uh… what’s you’re name? Mine’s Keith.”
The man glanced at me, his green eyes emotionless and uninterested.
“Lyall.” He briefly replied.
“So, Lyall, where’re you from? Have you always lived in New Hampshire?”
“I’d rather not say where I’m from.”
“Oh, that’s fine. Sorry for asking.” I replied with a small smile.
“Have you always lived here?” He asked.
“Yeah. I was born in Bartlett and lived there until I was ten. And then my family moved to Clarksville.” I replied.
Lyall then turned to fully face me, and I had to stop myself from looking away from his eyes. They were just so damn… intense. Like full-on soul-gazing.
“What are the smallest towns in this county?” He asked.
“Um… I can’t really think of any off the top of my head. But, I’d say most of the towns around here aren’t super big. This county’s the least populated one in the whole state.” I replied.
“I see.” Replied Lyall.
Things went quiet again for a little while. But then Lyall leaned back in the passenger seat and let out a wide yawn, and I got a full view of his chompers. My god, they made my frigging jaw drop. His canines were enormous, much bigger than any I’d seen on any other person before. Big and curved, kind of like smaller versions of a Chimpanzee’s. Lyall caught me staring.
“Its not polite to stare, y’know.” He said.
I shook myself out of my stupor and tried to think up an excuse. And, well, it ended up being a crappy one.
“Sorry, Lyall. Its just… uh… My brother-in-law is a dentist and he likes talking to me about… dentistry stuff and… I’ve developed a bit of a… fascination with teeth.” I said with a red face.
Lyall just stared at me. God, his eyes were like daggers. Then, he smiled slightly, and I felt anxiety begin to swell up in my mind.
“Oh, he’s a dentist is he? What’s his area of expertise?” He asked.
“Um… he’s a…”
Lyall cut me off before I could think up an excuse.
“You must know. I mean he does talk to you in detail about it. So, what is it? Orthodontic? Periodontal? Pediatric? Prosthodontic? Endodontic? Cosmetic? Or is he just a general dentist?”
I weighed my options. I didn’t know any of them. So in the end, I just settled on a general dentist.
“Oh, he’s a general dentist. He doesn’t really discuss his procedures with me or anything.” I replied with an awkward smile.
Lyall eyes narrowed, and I felt like crapping myself. He looked frigging scary with his eyes like that. Hell, he looked scary anyway, but his glare just made him even scarier.
“He’s not a dentist, isn’t he?”
I looked down in defeat
“No. No he isn’t.”
Lyall just sat there, pretty much scolding me with his eyes. And then he turned away from me, faced the windshield, and sighed.
“Just so you know, these fangs aren’t actually mine. They’re implants. You know, cosmetic surgery? I’m… into body modification.”
“Are you? Oh that’s cool. Sorry for staring and all that bullcrap about dentistry. I just… didn’t want to seem rude or anything.” I replied.
“Well, just don’t lie. Truthfulness is a better virtue.” Said Lyall.
Silence returned, much to my relief. Lyall was pretty damn difficult to talk with. I just couldn’t look into his eyes for very long, and those teeth weren’t exactly pleasant to look at either. Plus, I kind of found him to be a bit stuck up too. His listing off all those dentist professions just to stump me was kind of unwarranted. I would’ve given a piece of my mind about that if he weren’t so damn scary-looking.
Not feeling like talking to Lyall anymore, I decided to turn the radio on. I went onto one of the news stations and stumbled upon a pretty disturbing story. A vagrant had been found dead about five miles away from our location. He’d been mauled something fierce, limbs had been torn off as well as his bottom jaw.
“Jesus christ.” I breathed as I listened to the gruesome incident.
Lyall just sat there staring at the radio, and then he reached into one of his coat pockets and pulled out a plastic bag that looked like it was filled with beef jerky. He opened up the bag, pulled out five strips of jerky, and shoved them all into his mouth.
Despite his loud and rather gross chewing, I eyed the jerky. It looked pretty damn good. Lyall noticed my hungry eyes, and he pulled out three strips and offered them to me with a small smile.
“Want to try some?”
“Yes please.” I said with a grin.
I put one of the strips into my mouth, and Lyall watched me eat it with a somewhat amused look on his face. Much to my surprise, it wasn’t beef jerky at all. It was pork jerky.
“This stuff is really good, did you make it yourself?” I asked.
“No. I… bought it at a… roadside barbecue.”
I swiftly scarfed down the other two strips. God, that was probably the nicest jerky I’d ever tasted. It was like heaven in a piece of desiccated meat.
“Kinda messed up what happened to that hobo. A big bear must’ve gotten him. Oh, I saw a frigging massive Black Bear near Shelburne once. God, it had to be about seven feet and probably four-hundred pounds at least. Looked like a damn grizzly. My dad would’ve given his left hand to shoot that thing.” I said.
“Not much honour in shooting a beast. Up close with a knife, spear or your bare hands is better. It’s more even that way. Gives the beast a fighting chance.” Said Lyall.
“Easy for you to say. You’re built like a goddamn bear.” I remarked with a smile.
“Eh, you have a point.” Replied Lyall.
“Now, I can find it feasible to fight a wolf or maybe a puma with a knife, but no way in hell with a bear. Especially a grizzly. Kodiaks and Polars are just out of the question. Fighting any animal bigger than a dog with your bare hands is completely out of the question, Lyall.”
Lyall turned to face me and grinned. There were tiny bits of jerky still stuck between his big as-hell teeth.
“You want to know what it’s like to get bitten, by a bear?”
I cocked an eyebrow up at his question.
“Have you ever been bitten? Crap, have you actually fought bears?” I asked.
Lyall ignored my question and then leaned towards me, and I couldn’t help but shy away from his nasty-looking chompers and those goddamn eyes. His breath stunk too.
His voice a hissing whisper, he told me what it felt like.
“It feels like having three bear traps clamping onto your arm, the spikes sinking into your flesh like butter. And then the pressure increases and increases until the bone cracks in half like a stick. Bears also like to go for the jawbone too, because that’s how they often fight with each other. Bears tend to attack humans like they’re other bears.”
My skin turned pale white as Lyall’s words slithered into my ears. Lyall backed off, quietly chuckling. I started laughing nervously a little myself.
He suddenly leaned toward the windshield and squinted his eyes. Then he sat back against the chair.
“There’s a gas station up ahead.”
“Oh good. I need to top up my coffee and maybe get some food. And I need to take a piss too. You need anything?”
Lyall shook his head.
“No. I’ll wait in the truck.”
I slowed my truck to a stop just outside the gas station. When the dome light came on, I noticed Lyall’s eyes suddenly flash yellow for a split second. You know like when you shine a torch at a dog or a cat and their eyes start glowing? It was kind of like that. I was weirded out for a second. But I quickly ended up just disregarding it as me just seeing things out of tiredness.
I stepped out into the pouring rain and howling wind, fastened my jacket, and then ran for the gas station entrance. The guy behind the counter looked half asleep, and the light on the ceiling was dim and emitted a faint buzzing sound. In short, the place looked like a craphole in serious need of renovations.
The first thing I needed to do was use the restroom. Judging by the state of the main area of the building, I mentally prepared myself for what I would witness in there. I opened the door and much to my surprise, found the restroom to be surprisingly clean. There wasn’t much of an odour either. I walked in, shut the door behind me, and entered one of the stalls. I’ve just never liked using urinals, too pee shy. I emptied my bladder into the bowl, flushed, and then washed my hands. The hand wash they had smelt like heaven.
When I exited the restroom, the clerk was no longer behind the counter. I just shrugged it off and thought that he was maybe sleeping in the backroom or something. The poor bastard looked like he needed it. I grabbed a bag of chips and got myself a fresh coffee from the coffee machine, and then I left the money for it on the counter.
When I got back to my truck, Lyall was gone. He’d left a note on my dashboard. He thanked me for giving him a ride, and he’d also left me fifteen dollars, and that bag of delicious pork jerky too. Bitchin. I drove away from the gas station, now continuing my journey alone. Although we’d only known each other for about two hours, and he’d scared the crap outta me a couple of times, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t kind of miss Lyall. At least I’d had someone to talk to. Trucking can be pretty damn lonely sometimes.
I arrived at my destination around at 5:47 in the morning. I dropped off my cargo, and then I booked a room in this cozy little motel. I had a nice sleep for about three hours before being woken up by a loud knocking at my motel room door. I groggily got up, put my trousers and jacket back on, and answered the door. My eyes widened like saucers when I saw two cops standing at the doorway.
“Mister Devereux?” Asked one of the officers.
“I am.” I replied.
“We need to take you down to the station for questioning.” Said the same officer.
“What? Why?” I asked.
“We’ll explain when we get there.”
When we got to the station, I was frigging shocked by what the police told me. The clerk at the gas station we stopped at had gone missing. And what made it all the more shocking was the CCTV footage that they showed me. The security camera at the back of the gas station had captured a dark figure ripping open the backdoor and entering the building. As soon as I saw the footage, I knew that it was Lyall.
The next footage they showed me chilled me to the bone. This one was captured by the camera in the main room. It showed me entering through the sliding doors, checking the place out, and then heading to the bathroom. While I was in the bathroom, the footage showed Lyall opening the door to the storage room behind the counter, grabbing the clerk, and pulling him into the storage room before slamming the door shut. God, he’d frigging rag-dolled the guy.
The footage after had been captured by the camera in the storage room. It showed Lyall biting into the clerk’s neck and tearing out his throat. Then he slung the man over his shoulder and walked out the backdoor and then vanished into the woods behind the gas station.
I watched this all in silent terror. After showing me the footage, the police started questioning me. I told them everything. How I’d picked up Lyall from the side of the road, drove to the gas station, and how he was gone when I returned to my truck. I told them that I thought he’d just gone off on his own and I’d had no idea that he’d attacked the clerk. Luckily, they believed me. But they did ask to check my truck out for any clues, such as Lyall’s fingerprints and stuff.
I had to phone the company I worked for and explain to them what had happened. And well, my ass ended up getting canned. I was stuck in that town for a week, and my god it was the worst week of my life. Stuck in that motel room, staring up at the ceiling from my bed, ruminating on the fact that I’d sat inches away from some animalistic maniac for over two hours, and been chummy with him. How I’d been in a restroom nonchalantly doing my business while an innocent man was being ripped apart in the other room. The nightmares I had were fucking horrific. Even now, after all this time, I’m still hit with them late at night.
It felt like heaven when I finally got my truck back and could leave that town. But of course, now I was no longer a trucker. After I gave the truck back to the company, I headed back to my hometown and now I’m working in my parents’ diner again. Can’t say I won’t miss trucking. Thanks a lot Lyall.
Something strange happened to me a couple of weeks after the incident. Two FBI agents (I think) showed up at my house and started asking me questions about Lyall. They told me they needed a bit more information to help with the case, as they’d still not managed to find either him or the body of the gas station clerk. They wanted to know everything about him, even the most minute of details. What he looked like, how he moved, how he talked, and even how he smelt. They wrote down every single thing I told them, no matter how brief. They thanked me for my time and then they left.
A short while after that, another weird thing happened. When I was manning the counter at my folks’ diner, this woman came in. She was wearing sunglasses and a scarf. She looked almost exactly like Lyall. Tall and lean, and a long face with a narrow jaw. She had different coloured hair though, auburn compared to Lyall’s deep black.
She sat at one of the booths, and she noticed me staring at her. She then grinned at me, and much like Lyall, her canines were huge. I promptly told my parents that I didn’t feel well, and finished work early that day. When I got home, I locked all of my doors and windows and stayed in my bedroom for the rest of the day. I frigging cleared out my closet and turn on every single light in my bedroom. And I didn’t dare look out of my window blinds. Unsurprisingly, for me anyway, a trapper went missing that night.
I don’t go out much anymore. And I sure as hell don’t pick up random people off the side of the road anymore either.