Darkness had already begun to cloak the countryside as I settled onto the last bus. My phone was dying, so with what little charge I had, I called my friend Mike to let him know how long I’d be. It was his place I was staying at and we’d arranged to meet at the stop near his house.
As the bus trundled along the narrow, winding roads, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. My unease intensified when I noticed a peculiar man seated across the aisle, his eyes fixed on me. I tried to distract myself on my phone, but that lasted all of ten seconds before the battery completely drained. Still, I kept on pretending to swipe, hoping he’d lose interest.
However, as the bus rattled on, he persisted, occasionally trying to strike up a conversation. Each time, I offered polite but brief responses, hoping he’d get the hint. But his invasive persistence only heightened my discomfort. Unable to bear it any longer, I decided to disembark a few stops earlier than planned.
There’s a dirt path that cuts through an abandoned farm with the stop I needed on the other end. The bus pretty much just circles through the town and around the farm at this point before escaping back to the city, so I wasn’t really going to lose any time.
The cold wind swept through the deserted farmlands as I started my trek toward Mike’s house. I had been here before, but the moonless night made everything unfamiliar. I was pretty sure it was just a straight path, but I wasn’t even sure I was on a path any more. I had no idea whether it was dirt or grass under my feet.
As the minutes grew, my confidence waned, and a chilling sense of isolation set in. I felt a presence lingering in the shadows, haunting every step I took. Every rustle of the crops, every whisper of the wind, seemed like an ominous warning. My heart wouldn’t relent. Its pounding echoed through the fields, matching the rapid rhythm of my footsteps.
I kept telling myself I’m just being paranoid. Taking a moment to prove it, I stopped dead in my tracks, listening out for someone else’s footsteps, but of course, there were none. Relieved, I gave a soft chuckle, and when I felt it was safe, a little laugh slipped out. That relief vanished quick when I heard somebody laugh back.
I don’t know if you’ve ever been in that situation - where one minute you’re worried about how fast your heart’s beating - and in an instant it stops beating and drops down into your stomach. Well, that’s where I was - torn between fight and flight. I tried to remain as still as possible, thinking that if I couldn’t see anything, then whoever was there couldn’t see me.
It seemed to work - for what felt like an eternity, but then the scratching started. Three slow strikes and then poof, a flame emerged from his lighter. My heart must have been in my pelvis at this point as I realised who the mysterious figure was. Lighting a cigarette that pointed straight forward out of a sinister smile - it was the man from the bus.
It suddenly dawned on me that he was close enough that when the lighter went off, he would have known my exact position - and probably did since we left the bus. I started to inch back. He started to inch forward. My fight or flight instinct began to kick in and I knew there was only one thing I could realistically do.
As soon as he took another drag of his cigarette, I hoped that the light from it would obscure his vision - even just a little was better than nothing. I took the opportunity and I ran. I didn’t look back, but I knew he was following me. I couldn’t hear his footsteps, but it felt like a Michael Myers moment, where no matter how fast I ran, he was going to catch up to me.
In my haste, I stumbled upon an old, dilapidated farmhouse that seemed to have been abandoned for years. It was only a small building with a door that was so worn around the edges that it just swung effortlessly on a rusted hinge.I thought briefly about going in and trying to hide until I heard someone approaching fast. There was no time. I couldn’t run without being seen, and there was no way I was going to trap myself in there, so again I tried to buy just a second of time. I slammed the door of the building and darted around the corner, hoping he’d be distracted enough to go inside while I made a quick getaway.
It didn’t work. His footsteps didn’t go towards the door - they just got louder and louder as he got closer to my position. Panic set in. There was no where to run and now nowhere to hide. I pulled out my phone, hoping to use it as a weapon and started building my courage up - tapping the phone hard against my forehead to try and egg myself on.He was close - just around the corner. I had to get the edge over him. I emerged, jumping around the corner with my right arm held back, ready to implant the plastic into his skull. It was Mike.
I tell you, as much as my heart kept sinking that night like I’d never felt before, I’d never felt it rise like it did when I saw Mike. My emotion got the better of me and I burst into tears as I pushed my head into his chest, wrapping my arms around him. He’d waited at the bus stop, but when I didn’t get off, he asked the driver if he’d seen me.The driver told him I’d got off a few stops back and apparently the weird guy got off right after me. Realization washed over me like a wave. The man had targeted me from the moment I boarded the bus, and he had followed me into the dark farmlands, lurking in the shadows with sinister intentions.
We went straight back to Mike’s house after that with both of us looking out to make sure we weren’t followed. I didn’t sleep that night, and thought about making a police report - but there wasn’t really much to report. Still - it gives me the creeps just knowing that guy’s out there somewhere - probably waiting in the dark for some other poor, unsuspecting soul to get off the bus.