Everyone has something they wish to forget. Something that should never have happened, something that you should never have done.
Something that can’t be undone.
Early in life, we learn how to deal with it - Forget about it. Move on, do better next time. That works for some people, i’m sure. But if i’m being honest, there are certain things from which you can’t just move on. Shit that sticks with you, and you won’t close your eyes at night without thinking about it.
And once you realize you can’t follow with your life as most people do, that’s when the confessionist comes into play.
The first time i’ve heard of it, of course i thought it to be just another urban legend. There’s plenty of those in my city. People come up with them as a way to escape reality, it adds a bit of mystique to the dull life in our concrete jungle. But from the start, this one was different. People whispered about it, from the streets to the pubs and if you were part of the night life, then you most likely heard of it.
So the legend goes something like this:
At a certain street, at a certain hour late at night, a certain car will pass by. If you’re standing at the right place, then it might open it’s passenger’s door for you. That’s your invite for a journey. And if you survive it, then whatever wish you have is granted.
That’s the basics of it. There are more details, though, pertinent to the one known as the confessionist. All that’s known about him, it’s that he’s the driver, the one who guides your journey and that might grant your wishes. Who or what he is no one knows, but there are certain rules you must follow if you wish to survive his journey.
These usually change according to who is telling the story, but some of them are widely agreed upon:
- You must be alone.
- You only answer if you’re spoken to.
- You must answer all questions truthfully.
- You must confess truthfully.
- After you enter, you won’t leave the car, under any circumstances, until the journey is over.
- And most important: You don’t look directly at the confessionist, nor at the rear view.
If you follow these steps and endure the journey, then you’re set. I always thought it sounded simple. But y’know, there’s a reason why sometimes, people just disappear as if they vanished from existence. And you never get to know what happened to them.
Still, it’s all worth it if you get it right. Wouldn’t you agree?
I had to do some research of my own to find the exact spot and the exact time the car should pass by. Most versions of the story don’t even hint at it.
3:27 AM.
I was standing under a lone street light, eyes fixated on the empty road and i admit i was having second thoughts. That place was desolate. The buildings on both sides of the street were dark as all hell and there wasn’t a glimpse of a living soul anywhere nearby.
So the conditions were met. And i just had to wait.
I sat on a bench in the flickering street light, facing the dark and empty - the abandonment that surrounded me. Tossed a coin up in the air as i waited for any sign of the car.
Heads.
Some versions of the story mention the coin as an entrance fee. So i brought it. Just in case.
I waited for a good while, until i was suddenly afflicted by a strange feeling. It’s hard to explain. But it was as if i felt the presence of the car, even before it had made any sound, or showed itself. A cold creeping through my back. So i turned my head to face the darkness, and the headlights turned on almost immediately.
The automobile was melded in the shadows. As if it had always been there, i just hadn’t seen it.
It approached slowly and opened it’s passenger’s door for me. The inside dark as the night itself. That image, burned in my memory, still feels unreal.
An old Austin Metro. I chuckled. Not exactly the type of car i was expecting. I entered, closing the door and sat beside the driver’s seat. A dark, shadowy figure had it’s hands on the wheel, but of course i didn’t look at him. But i could feel him looking at me, a cold stare, through the rear view.
I fought against a strange urge to see it. To look at him. Shoulders back, i kept my eyes to the floorboard. And after a while, as the feeling ceased, the car began to move.
He drove through the empty streets. The radio was on, which i didn’t expect. Some old music station. Kinda felt like i was riding a cab, and as the sight of familiar buildings and neon lights came and passed, i admit i felt almost relaxed for a while. Almost.
And as if it had picked up on that feeling, the Confessionist spoke for the first time.
- So, what’s your name? - He said, in an awfully casual tone.
And to this day i seemingly cannot recall how his voice sounded like. The sound of a man, or a woman, or maybe neither.
- Joshua. - I answered.
- Joshua. - He nodded, as if repeating it to himself. - Do you know why you’re here?
- To confess.
He turned off the radio.
- I know you’ve done your homework. So i don’t have to tell you this, but for your sake, i will. You must answer truthfully. We do not accept lies.
- Yeah.
- Good. So, tell me. That night, were you somewhere you shouldn’t be?
I shouldn’t be surprised, by was a bit taken back by that question. Of course he knew about me. He knew about everything.
- I was at the pub. - I answered. - I had promised Mary i wouldn’t go there anymore.
Something shifted in the air. It was subtle, but i felt as if things weren’t exactly the same after i confessed to him for the first time.
- And who were you with? Confess. - His voice made me hesitate. His tone had changed, and he spoke with authority. Felt like i was being forcefully questioned. I didn’t like it.
- I was with… - I swallowed my pride. I was here, after all. So i had to answer. - I was with James.
Cold. After answering it, i felt cold. There was something wrong.
- Did she call you that night? - He asked.
- Yes.
- She wanted to know where you were. And what did you tell her?
- I told her… - I paused. I didn’t want to answer. It was as if there was something in my throat… - I told her i would be working till late again.
He stayed quiet for a while, but that dry feeling in my throat stayed with me. My body was slowly resisting. It didn’t want me to keep going.
I looked through the window. There were no buildings, no vehicles, no people. No streets. Only pitch blackness. The car was lost in a void.
- You turned off your phone after that. - He continued. - James looked at you. And what he told you next, you believed it at first?
Oh God. The cold was unbearable. And there was something in my throat.
I wanted to say no. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the darkness outside. I felt the urge to end it. To open the door and let it engulf me. It ached.
- Yes. - I forced myself to answer truthfully. - I believed James.
- Why? Confess.
- I wanted… - I breathed heavily. - I don’t know. I wanted a justification. Something to be angry at.
- Was he telling the truth? Confess.
Suddenly, i heard something. Knocking on the glass. Pale handprints on the window, knocking, forcing it open. So many of them. Something was outside the car, and i was alone. The Confessionist had disappeared, but his voice had stayed and i could still hear him.
But there was only me and whatever was outside - maybe demons, ghosts. People that couldn’t answer.
There was an urge. I wanted to open the door. I wanted to let them in. I wanted to be with them.
Weaker people would have given in.
I almost forgot i had a question to answer. Closed my eyes, forced myself to try and ignore the scratching and the knocking.
- No. - I said. - Mary wasn’t cheating on me. I know it. I looked into it later.
But it didn’t stop. The cries, the unintelligible voices out there. I could feel pale eyes gazing at me from the outside. It went on and on for what felt like an eternity, until i heard his voice again.
- When you came home that night, she was worried. She asked you if you were drunk. Did you tell her the truth?
- No. - I answered truthfully.
- And yet, she knew you were lying. You got into an argument. And when you had enough, what did you do?
There were screams outside. Loud, inhuman screams. But when i finally confessed, it all became silent again.
- I grabbed the crowbar.
There was something inside me. Something moving inside my throat, as if my sins were a living parasite. I could feel it crawling. It was the worst thing i ever felt.
- How many times did you hit her? - He asked.
- I don’t know.
I felt my body tremble. There was something in my throat. I wanted to tear it apart, rip it open with my own hands. I needed to do it.
- And what was the last thing she said to you, before you took her life?
Cold and cutting silence.
- She told me she was pregnant.
I confessed, and suddenly, the car stopped to a halt. There were dark buildings outside. The radio was on again.
- And what did you do after that? - He asked. But the way he asked it, it was different. Didn’t feel like i needed to confess. It was a personal question.
- I cutted the body and separated the pieces. They never found her.
First, there was silence. Then the door opened. Outside, the same street, the same bench and the same street light. We had gone back to where we started.
With my legs trembling, i leaned against the car door as i tried to leave. Wanted to vomit. I felt so drained i couldn’t even think straight. But his voice called for me once again:
- You’re forgetting something. What about your wish?
I sighted. Of course, the only reason i had done all of this in the first place.
- I want her back. I want Mary, and our child, back. And i want her alive.
- Very well. - He said. - You’ll get what you want. Until another night, Joshua.
The door closed and the Austin Metro left. I was alone, back in the dark and empty street. And i couldn’t help but laugh at myself.
I returned home, to my wife, peacefully sleeping in our bed. She was surprised to see me so late at night. Told her i was working. She doesn’t remember anything though, and our life went on as usual. All is well.
Yesterday, we did the exam. We’re having a baby girl. Haven’t decided on a name yet, but maybe Eliza, or Ellen.
I think i might hit the pub later, to commemorate.