As I began my drive I finally began to return home. After an extended work trip to Virginia I finally gained an extended break. It was late and I continued on an old road headed to get away from traffic, when I saw a sign that said “Old Town.”
“Real original,” I muttered to myself. I came across an old run down gas station and needed food so I stopped at the gas station and went inside.
It was an interesting place with old fluorescent lights and yellow checkered floors with white walls. The old radio played country songs with static always in the background from artists who passed away long ago. The half-stocked shelves and fridges filled with boring off brand foods stood out to me though as it looked as if people had panicked and ransacked the place.
“Hi, I’m Fred!” An old toothless man with a bald spot exclaimed from behind the counter with excitement,
“You a tourist?” He continued.
I just replied “no, just passing through”,
I proceed to finish purchasing potato chips and soda. As I leave, Fred remarks,
“Also, watch out, there’s things out here, and I don’t know what they are, hell no one knows what they are.”
As I continue on my little trip I feel a strong sense of being watched and something feels very wrong. I continue on and eventually my entire car stops. Then my eye catches something, I scan the bushes wondering what was out there. I scan the bushes again and see two white dots peering from the underbrush. I lock my car, sweating buckets and heart beating like a drum as the blood rushes out of my head as my face goes ghostly white.
Suddenly, the shrubbery shudders as I see the ghostly white creature step out of the bushes and crawl up to my car. I can clearly see its sunken black eyes and tattered clothes, the air inside my car hangs thick with the stench of decay as I feel my heart sink. I feel my car rock as it presses its blood stained maw against my window and just stares at me. Its jaw pulls back into a sickening void lined with razor sharp teeth. I squeeze my eyes shut as it begins to trace my windshield with its black tongue, begging for my death to be quick once it gets in. A high pitched ring fills my ears as I feel the car door open and feel its breath on my neck. I know I’m dead now, I’m going to die. Suddenly the warm breath on my neck ceases, and the car door shuts. I open my eyes and I am on the middle of the road again, alone. I turn my keys and my car starts to work again, I begin driving again, shaking.
I haven’t been on a work trip in six years since that incident, and I swear I can still feel its breath on my neck sometimes, I know it’s still out there hunting me.