I’m in a long distance relationship with my partner of four years. They live a seven hour drive from me, and every weekend, I pack up my things, load up the truck and go on the long-ass trip it takes me to see them. By now, I’m used to the potholes, the traffic jams, the impromptu bladder stops and horrendous gas station bathrooms. Now, I love my partner so it’s all worth it to me, but goddamn, the roads are crappy. It doesn’t help that they live off-the-grid, in a hard to find spot. The drive can actually be sort of dangerous sometimes.
Due to personal reasons, my partner can’t join me at my place in the city and even though I want to eventually move in with them, moving out into the sticks would just murder my career right now. It’s a frustrating situation and our only option is basically to hang on and wait for our circumstances to change. Until then, every Friday afternoon and every Sunday night, it’s “truckin’ time” for my dog and me. That’s what I’ve come to call these long car rides, and last Friday was about the worst one so far.
It started innocently enough. I hurled my bag into the back of my vehicle and whistled for my Borzoi. “Pasha! Truckin’ time!”
This has become a specific command for Pasha, and each time he hears it, he comes barreling towards me at high speed and leaps onto the passenger seat. Over the years, it’s turned into this practiced performance of ours. I open the door at exactly the right time for him to land the perfect jump, all in one elegant, fluid motion. Not to brag, but we’re a great team; it’s almost like a circus act. And Pasha is wonderful company. He’s sweet and doesn’t mind curling up next to me while I drive, as long as I occasionally give him a treat and stop for walks, pees and cuddles.
Okay, there was that one time when we got stuck in traffic. It was a hot day and stressful as hell, and he decided out of the blue that the best thing to get my mind off the jam was to loudly sing me the song of his people; but other than that, he’s the best.
So this Friday, we did our little circus act, I strapped him into his restraint and we got on our way. Everything was going smoothly. The first two hours, we drove freely and unhindered. I was in a fairly good mood when I pulled over at a rest stop for Pasha to stretch those long, spindly legs of his. We walked a couple paces, he took a good long piss against a trash can while no one was looking, then I took a good long piss against that same trash can because the bastards were charging for restroom usage, and we climbed back into our car for the next stretch.
The following eighty minutes went well enough, but around the one and a half-hour mark, Pasha was getting a bit fidgety. Naturally, I stopped and got him out, but he didn’t do anything. He just stood frozen on the ground beside the truck, staring straight ahead with his tubular nose pointing at something in the distance up ahead. Following his gaze, I couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary. After several minutes of me trying to figure out what had him so uneasy, I decided I didn’t have time for this. I got him to hop back in and we drove on. There was a tunnel coming up in about two hundred-something meters, and by the time I reached it, mine was the only car on the road. What few others had been in front of me had taken the exit off to the right shortly before.
So we headed into the tunnel. Totally normal. We always took this route, I basically knew it by heart at that point. It’s not like I had some kind of phobia or fear of tunnels, but for some reason, I felt extremely apprehensive all of a sudden. I purposefully slowed down, rolling up to the entrance at a tempered pace. The concrete arch looked very much like a dark maw to me at that moment. I was a tad ashamed of myself, really; I had no idea why I was so skittish when I had passed this same stretch of road hundreds of times before. It was nothing new to me, and yet, my skin erupted into gooseflesh as I got closer and closer to the tunnel.
And that’s when I saw it.
It was only there for a split second, but my weary eyes caught a glimpse of something that looked like an enormous hand. Six long, thin, coal-black fingers had gripped onto the outer edge of the concrete arch, and I spotted them just in time as they peeled off and withdrew, vanishing into the darkness inside. For a moment, my brain got “hung up”, just… temporarily stopped working as it tried to process the image my sense of vision had sent up to it. I gaped at the now still, unmoving, unsuspecting opening ahead of me, and before I could bring my car to a stop, I had already rolled on into the tunnel.
Pasha lost it. The second the concrete had swallowed us, he started howling and barking, frantically tossing his head and pounding the faded leather seat with his paws. He’d risen to his full height, or rather the extent of it the limited space of the truck and his restraint allowed, and he was raising hell. I couldn’t blame him. I was at a complete loss, and a part of me desperately wanted to hold onto the hope that what I had seen had merely been an illusion created by an overactive imagination and eyestrain. I didn’t stay in denial for long. Pasha kept pointing his snout up like he was trying to get my attention, and when I finally put two and two together, I remembered that I had a sunroof.
I tipped my head back, looking through the glass at the ceiling of the tunnel outside, only for my heart to jump into my throat. There was something staring in at me, two wide eyes meeting mine. It was about five or six times the size of a person and of humanoid shape, but absolutely emaciated. Its skin was dark, not the normal kind of dark but literal jet black, and it didn’t appear to have a single hair on its head. The thing was clinging to the round top of the concrete corridor, its giant body curled up and flattened against the curve of the tunnel. I only managed to catch a quick peek at it before I instinctively whipped my head back down and stepped on the gas.
My truck lurched forward. The engine howled, Pasha howled. I howled. I was gripped by raw, naked terror; the hands with which I was clutching the steering wheel were laced with cold sweat and my chest felt as though it was going to burst. The light at the end of the tunnel was becoming brighter, bigger, closer, my unblinking gaze trained on it as I sped towards it for dear life. Glancing up through the sunroof, I could spot the creature scuttling across the length of the ceiling, its movements almost resembling those of a large spider. Squeezing the last possible bit of effort from my wailing truck, I tightened my grip on the wheel, knuckles turning white as a quiet prayer passed my lips.
The thing arrived at the end of the tunnel at about the same time I did. Its two long arms swooped down like a bird of prey as it reached for me. My stomach turned, I pressed my eyes shut and, with a feral yank of the wheel, I sent my car swerving, dodging its long, greedy fingers by a hair’s breadth. Bright daylight enveloped me as I emerged from the tunnel. I did not even think of slowing down. I didn’t allow myself to look over my shoulder, but I knew I was safe again when I saw several other cars in the distance ahead. These things only come for me when I’m alone.
Pasha’s yowls had turned into whines and heavy, huffing snorts. I reached over to run a trembling hand through his silky fur. “You okay?”
My dog leaned into the touch, nosing my lower arm.
“I had a feeling you were trying to warn me. Sorry I didn’t listen.” I reached into the middle console to grab a small treat for him. He gently closed his teeth around it, careful as he took it from my shaking fingers. God, I love that animal.
We got in line with all the other vehicles. Seeing the other cars and the people behind the windows instilled within me a feeling of intense relief, like the weight of a boulder having been taken off my chest. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, painting the sky pink and ruby red. I watched, my soaring heart rate slowing at the pacifying sight. I didn’t want to have to get out of the car after dark, so I pulled over at the next possible stop. It was a bare, dreary little patch of asphalt where two trucks had parked, their owners most likely asleep inside. I rounded my truck to open the door for Pasha, who seemed all too happy to get his noodle nose out into the fresh air. He took a big dump on the side of the road, drank some water and then experienced a brief episode of the zoomies, likely brought on by the earlier tension.
I was stretching my legs and back as I watched him jump around, but my smile fell when he suddenly went still and ramrod straight. He was staring at something again, something I couldn’t make out. Whatever had caught his attention seemed to be located on the opposite side of the road, but between the cars rushing past and the gentle gleam of the evening redness, I couldn’t make out anything out of the ordinary. Still, I was not about to ignore my dog’s sixth sense again, so I hastily strapped him back into his seat and returned to my spot behind the wheel.
The next twenty minutes passed by uneventfully, but I was admittedly on edge. Pasha was alert, too; sitting upright and staring out the window with an alarming degree of focus. The road dragged on and on, and to my dismay, we were pretty much by ourselves again before long. We had reached the more rural stretch of the route, trees standing tall and dense to either side, seemingly scooting closer and closer as though they wanted to push their way forth to block my path. The moon was climbing higher in the sky by then, its silvery glow keeping my headlights company in the nightly darkness. A weak comfort.
I never liked this part of the trip. One the one hand, it always means I’m nearing my destination, but I’m just so alone out in the wilderness. Unprotected. No other people, no one to help. No witnesses. Most of my worst experiences have happened while I was driving down this section.
That day would turn out to be no different.
About an hour into the journey through the woodland was when I first spotted her. A glimpse of white by the side of the road, standing just behind the treeline, only partially visible. Gone in a flash. I shuddered, and my suspicions were confirmed when Pasha uttered a drawn-out, low growl. Here we go again.
Once you’ve seen something that’s caught your attention, you will most likely keep looking for it, even though you should really be focusing on something else. That’s how it was with me. I tried to keep my eyes and mind on the road ahead, looking only at what my headlights illuminated before me. In the back of my head, however, that little glimpse of white was fighting for dominance over my thoughts. I shoved it down, gnawing on my lower lip in hopes that the sting of my teeth would help me stay concentrated. Whenever a being doesn’t outwardly show itself, you can count on it waiting for the right moment. The fuckers are smart. They know how to make you nervous, how to drive you damn near crazy. It’s best not to look at whatever’s happening on the sides of the road. Eyes wide open and ahead, safe and strong and steely. That’s the only way.
I somehow managed to ignore the white spot that drew closer to my car from the left. Two minutes later, I could see her again out of the corner of my eye, approaching from my right this time. Cold dread seeped into my bones, fear pooling in the pit of my stomach like icy water. Pasha started barking again and my teeth drew blood from my lip. I could make out almost her entire form by then. She was small, scrawny, pale and blond. Her white dress fluttered around the bony shovels of her hips like it was spun from cobwebs, and I could see each bone shifting beneath as she moved. She was trying to distract me, I knew she was—too bad it was working.
It took all my willpower not to slow down, not to abruptly pump the brakes everytime she appeared. My stomach jolted with each sudden appearance of the being, and I could practically feel her patience waning as she drew closer and closer each time in an attempt to startle me. I knew what she wanted. She would only stop when I was dead in a roadside ditch, crushed to jelly by my truck; perhaps wrapped around a tree or lying on its roof. I was not about to give her that satisfaction.
Once more, I sped up my truck, the engine’s roar like a war cry as Pasha and I shot through the night. I lowered my head, my jaw set and my gaze pointing perfectly straight ahead. And then, seemingly appearing out of thin air, she simply stood in front of my truck, right there in the middle of the road. For a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of her face. It felt like there was an invisible rope tightening around my neck. Two wide, bulbous eyes met mine from within her frame of blond hair. They were sitting in the very middle of her head, taking up far too much space. She had no mouth, no nose, no nothing; just these gigantic, piercing eyes. Pasha let out a howl, panicking as he tugged against his restraint, and while I felt exactly the same, this brief moment of terror was over before it truly began.
A loud thump rang out as the ghostly woman was snatched up by my speeding vehicle, rolling up the hood of the truck before sailing over the roof. I didn’t swerve, didn’t brake, didn’t dare to look in the mirror. I kept on driving, leaving her laying there, wherever it was the momentum of my mighty car had propelled her to. About twenty minutes later, I finally allowed myself to relax, practically melting into my seat. Pasha had drawn himself up beside me, radiating victory, and I smiled and scratched his ear. “We did it, boy.”
I, too, felt weirdly proud of myself. Normally, only one of these things makes a pass at me, but I’d managed to evade two in a row. I was exhausted, my heart was still pounding like a sledgehammer, but damn, I felt good. Pasha and I enjoyed an uneventful remainder of the trip, and when I finally pulled up outside my partner’s remote little cabin, I was ready to drop for the night. The door, adorned by a rabbit’s paw, swung open with an ear-straining creak, and I stepped into the pitch-black interior. This was a comfortable, homely kind of darkness though, and I felt immediately at ease. Taking a deep breath, I sucked in the sweet smell of herbs, oils and incense. Pasha trotted in after me, and a smile came to my face when I heard him starting to munch and slobber away at something beside the entrance. He loves the food my partner makes, and I think it’s adorable of them to put out bowls for him in anticipation of our arrival. They always do that. They’re just so thoughtful.
“Hey, honey,” I called into the room.
“How was your journey, my soul?”
“Ugh.” I plopped down on the sofa beside them, sighing deeply upon feeling one of their four arms wrap around my shoulders. “They’re getting worse. There were two of them this time. I mean, I survived, so I don’t wanna mope around or anything.”
“They’re afraid of the offspring we might create. They want to keep us apart.”
“They won’t.”