Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I Work At A Gas Station. There's One Customer I'll Never Forget | Scary Stories

Episode Date: January 20, 2024

Should I help him?          Story from JLGoodwin1990  Make sure to check out more of their work at u/JLGoodwin1990           Original Post: Be Careful Where you Run off the Road : r/nosleep  Original YouTube link: I Work At A Gas Station. There's One Customer I'll Never Forget           For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Merch: lighthousehorror.com  Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech Darren Curtis Music - YouTube  Thank you for listening to this scary story! If you enjoyed this new creepypasta story, please check out some of my other horror stories. We'll be uploading new episodes every week, featuring ghost stories, haunted encounters, mysteries, true stories, creepypasta, and anything supernatural and paranormal. Don't miss out on the thrill and suspense that await you in each episode!

That is one hell of a rainstorm. I looked up from the magazine I'd been reading. To stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows, lining the front wall of the service station. The sound of the downpour had been our soundtrack for the last five or six hours on shift, but it had turned extremely ferocious in the last half-hour or so. I could see the rain slashing across the pavement,

driven by the wind. It lashed against the glass, making it very difficult to see out of, Let's just hope it doesn't cause another power outage, I thought, before answering. You're not kidding, Ralph, I said faking interest. We had plenty of driving rainstorms here in the Pacific Northwest, so much so that by now, almost after a decade and a half of living here, it just become a regular occurrence to me.

Ralph saw right through my charade, stepping to the other side of the counter and shouting me a look. You don't understand, Mick, and it may be because you haven't later. here that long, or you're just too young? I haven't seen a rainstorm like this since at least 1954. He used his hand to slick back his salt and pepper hair. Ralph was the owner of the gas station and repair shop I'd taken a cashier's job at, and had been the owner ever since his father had passed and left it to him when he was just 18 years old. Even though he was pushing 90, long past the age many people retired at.

He seemed to be just like the damn energizer bunny and kept going. I'd never admit it, but I secretly hoped I could be like that when I was his age. He leaned over the counter, fumbling for a second, before pulling out a battered and very well-worn portable radio after a moment of setting up the antenna and fumbling with the dials. The constant blare of static was changed to the faint sound of a man speaking. And if you're just tuning in, ladies and gentlemen, we have an update on the storm currently

swirling over central and southern Oregon. According to meteorologists, this winter has been one of the rainiest we've seen in decades, which, on the one hand, is good for the forest after the fires, which swept through the area a few years ago, and the other. It is causing multiple areas to become laden with power outages and automobile accidents, were officially advising that unless it is absolutely necessary, to please stay inside and avoid traveling until the worst of the storm has passed. In other news, the Seattle Mariners.

Ralph turned the radio off, looking at me. You got anywhere to be tonight, Mick? He asked. I shook my hand. Ever since Ruth, my girlfriend, had decided to take a break in our relationship. I hadn't really had much to do over the winter, especially with my friends off in different states for college. He nodded, leaning to place the radio back under the counter.

Then I'm going to suggest we stay open for a few more hours than usual, until the worst of this passes. I don't want you getting into an accident out there. I'll make sure to give you a little overtime pay for it, of course. I nodded gratefully. with inflation being the way it was, making everything from rent to car payments more expensive. I would take extra pay any day the week. I'm perfectly okay with that, I declared, causing the old man to chuckle.

Ha, ha, good, he said. Now go back to the fridges and get us each a Coke. It's on the house. Allowing myself a small smile, I slid off the stool and left the cashier's island. heading to the refrigerators, lining the back wall. I opened the glass door of one, and pulled out two glass bottles of Mexican Coke. Ralph had gotten me hooked on the variation of soda,

which used pure cane sugar instead of corn syrup, saying it was the closest to how it used to taste. As I stepped back into the island and closed the partition behind me, I spared to look outside. What the? There was a figure running up the two, lane road towards the station. What the hell is he doing running outside in this crap?

I dropped the two bottles on the counter, then tap my knuckles on it to get Ralph's attention. Hey, Ralph, get a load of this, I called, pointing out the windows. He started as his gaze followed my finger to the figure. What the... He mumbled, then spoke louder. What the hell is certain. someone doing out in this mess on foot?" Took the thoughts right out of my head, I thought.

Before I had a chance to answer, the figure jogged under the awning for the gas pumps and across to the front door. He practically tore the door open, causing a howl of wind and large amount of rain to invade the storm and spread across the tiled floor. The figure stepped inside, letting the door close behind them, and the wind go back to a soft howl, bending almost in half, and breathing heavily. I could see now it was a man, one who was soaked through to the bone. I could also tell he was extremely wealthy.

The waterlogged black suit he had on looked like something you'd see in a Beverly Hills Taylor shop, something you'd have to shell out over $4,000 or $5,000 for. His shoes looked like genuine crocodile leather or something, and what looked like a diamond stick pin was stuck into his tie. Finally, he stood up and looked at us. He looked utterly exhausted, but behind it was something that set me on edge. His eyes were full of panic. Ralph stepped forward.

Uh, can I help you in any way, sir? He asked, trying to seem pleasant and not perturbed. The man held up a finger, still trying to breathe in great lungfuls of air. and coughing out rainwater. You got to help me, sir. He began to stammer out. I was driving up to San Francisco to Seattle. I got lost in the storm, and I took a wrong turn.

My car went off the road about 10 or 12 miles back, and I couldn't get it out. His eyes held him more frantic pleading now. Please, my wife and two kids are still in the car. They wouldn't have made it all the way back in the storm. I told them I'd go for help. Ralph raised his hands. Okay, sir, okay. Just try and calm down.

He shot a glance out the window, then turned to me, his eyes serious. Mick, go in the back to the phone and try and get a hold of the police while I speak more to our guest here. Obediently, I flipped back the island partition and walked quickly to the back room, where the store's inventory computer and landline phone were. I picked up the handset, hoping to hear a solid dial tone greet my ears. Instead, all I got was dead air. Great, the storm knocked the landlines out. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone,

letting out a grunt as I saw that no reception bars were displayed. A freaking course, I grumbled. Then headed back to the front of the store. No good, Ralph. The landline's dead. I'm not getting any cell signal in this storm. I held up my phone and wiggled it for emphasis. The man became more frantic, almost clutching at Ralph's overalls. Please, we have to do something, Ralph. I can't leave him out there all night. I admired Ralph's calmness as he gently pulled a man's hands off him. He let out a resigned sigh. Okay, sir, my employee and I will go back with you to get your family tomorrow morning.

I'll have him run out with a tow truck to bring your car back here. Does that sound okay? The man began to cry tears of relief, mixing it with the rainwater all over his face. Thank you, thank you. Never will I say anything bad again about you rural folks. I raised an eyebrow at his choice of war. words that held my tongue. What's your name, sir?

Ralph asked him. Charles, Charles winsome, he replied, reaching out and shaking his hand. Well, Charles, unfortunately, my employee's car won't make it on the back roads, so we'll have to take my wrecker. And since it's a regular cab, it'll be a little cramped on the drive back. The men. Charles shook his head. "'That's perfectly fine, sir,' he said. Ralph pulled a ring of keys from his belt and tossed them to me.

"'Now, Mick, go get the truck and bring it around to the front door. I'll lock up and figure out where Mr. Winsome's car is.' Notting. I left the counter and jogged out into the connected garage bays. Ralph's tow truck, an extremely well-kept 1952 Dodge Power Wagon, sat in the far bay, the two-tone black and tan paint, glinting in the overhead lights, and its toe hook swinging lazily. I hit the button to open the bay door, causing the wind and rain to roar in, as I hopped behind the wheel and fired it up, the flathead in-line-6 engine roaring in the bay,

jamming the truck into first gear, I pulled it out into the storm, hopping out into the driving rain to shut the bay door behind me, before pulling the truck up next to the front door of the store. Through the rain street glass, I saw Ralph and Charles dash out into the storm. Charles reached the truck first, pulling open the passenger door and climbing into the middle seat of the cab. Ralph followed a moment after, heaving himself into the passenger. passenger seat. As he slammed the door, something on his face gave me pause. There was a look there that I'd only seen once or twice in the entire time I'd known him. Tension and worry. He looked to me nodding. Start heading east on State Highway 38, he said simply. Before turning

his head to look out the windshield, past the rapidly flicking windshield wipers. The man usually couldn't shut up, even in bad situations. The fact that he spoke so briefly made me feel increasingly on edge. The man told him something he didn't like hearing. I shook my head as I pulled the wrecker out onto the road. The hell had that thought come from? I pushed the thought away, focusing on keeping the truck in its proper lane, as I squinted out past the rain, which the old vacuum-powered wipers did a poor job keeping off the glass,

for what seemed to be fifteen or twenty minutes, but felt more like two or three hours. We drove in silence, only broken by the roar of the truck's engine and the lashing rain. At this point, I couldn't even tell you where on the long stretch of a rural highway, connecting Reed Sport and most of the coast to Interstate 5 we were. I hadn't seen a single other vehicle on the road, not even a cop car, which made me feel increasingly isolated. My mind began to drift off as I kept my foot down on the accelerator. It almost feels like we're the last three people alive on earth, I thought.

The thought was shattered, as Charles pointed out the windshield ahead of us, There, that's where I turned off, he exclaimed. I leaned forward, using a rag on the dash, to wipe away some of the steam, which the trucks defroster couldn't chase away. In perfect conditions, it would have been something which nobody would have glanced at. It was so perfectly camouflaged among the trees lining the side of the road. In the downpour, it was close to impossible. I'd have driven straight by it if it had had to be.

hadn't been pointed out to me. I slowed, and even though I saw nobody else coming, put on my blinker out of a force of habit, I could now see deep tire tracks, which had been formed into the dirt and mud recently. Those must be from Charles, I thought, shaking my head. Trust a city slicker to think that road would take him anywhere near civilization. I shot a glance at Ralph, as I eased onto the gas and turned to me. the truck under the dirt road. I could barely see him in the dim glow of the truck's gauge lights, but I could tell his jaw was set tightly, his eyes flicking from one side of the tree line

to the other. What the hell has that old man so on edge, I wondered. He caught me staring and nodded, motioning to keep going. I reached down and set the truck into four-wheel drive, then flicked on the high beams before slowly beginning down the road. The trees rapidly closed in over our heads, melting the already dark, stormy night, into an almost inky blackness, only banished away by the headlights. I massaged the accelerator gently. Even with four-wheel drive, I knew a dirt road like this would be easy to get stuck on in this weather, and the last thing we needed was for the rescuers to get stuck as well.

Occasionally, a pine or fir tree branch would scrape against the roof of the truck, making an almost sickening sound, before banging off the toe assembly and hook on the back. There was one thing I was grateful for. The rainstorm seemed to be letting up somewhat. It was becoming easier to see out the windshield, and the truck was eating up the dirt ruts. I followed the tire tracks I saw in the mud, knowing like breadcrumbs, they'd eventually lead us to their source. And as we rounded a corner, I spied it. In the bright yellow beam of the headlights, I could see the back end of the car peeking out from the side of the road where it had gone

off. It was indeed an expensive car. It looked to be a brand new Bentley flying spur, something I'd only seen in YouTube videos and car magazines. Charles let out a relief sigh. Oh, thank God. I hope Desireen the kids. He trailed off. Charles, what's the matter? Ralph asked him. But as we drew closer, I already saw it. Both of the rear doors, along with the front passenger door, stood wide open. I could see the expensive wood and leather was soaked from the rain, meaning they'd been left open for a fair, while, at least. The overhead dome light of the car was on, and from this distance, I saw no movement inside.

What the hell? I whispered out. As I brought the truck to a halt, about five or ten feet from the car. All at once, Charles turned and began pushing against Ralph. Let me out, let me out, he yelled, his voice almost painfully loud in the truck's cabin. "'Easy, Charles, easy. Wait a minute,' Ralph exclaimed, trying to hold the man back, but he'd already reached across to the door handle, pushing it open, and beginning to crawl across him. A moment later, he dropped out of sight, falling to the ground with a squelching sound from the mud. I could hear him swearing as he fought to get to his feet. I began to open the driver's door when Ralph grabbed my arm.

Mick, stay close to the truck, he said, in more of a stern voice than I was used to. I shot a look at him, his warning sending a small shiver up my spine. Why? I asked. He didn't answer me, only pushing the half-open passenger door all the way open and hopping out. After a moment's hesitation, I leaned down. Fumbling under the driver's seat, for what I knew the old man's stashire. There. My hand came up a moment later, holding an old, well-oiled, and well-taken care of, revolver. I'd been sent out on several tow jobs when Ralph or the other mechanics couldn't do it,

sometimes to less than ideal towns around the area. I'd been told it was there I needed to protect myself. Now kind of seems like one of those times, I thought, as I twisted the door handle and launched myself out into the rainy night. The storm had definitely let up a bit now. The rain had slacked off, though it still hit my face and exposed hands hard enough to sting slightly. I took the revolver into my waistband, slamming the door and fighting my way through the mud and muck which had once been the road. Stepping around to the front, I positioned myself between the two headlights and looked around. I could tell instantly. Instantly, something was off.

Even during a rainstorm, you can hear the sounds of the forest all around you. Animal calls, crickets, and cicadas, things of that nature. But aside from the wind and rain, I couldn't hear anything, besides the rumble of the wrecker's engine idling. It felt like the entire forest was holding its breath, and it made another shiver surge therma. attempting to focus. I took a few steps forward, seeing Ralph come into view in my peripheral vision. Charles had already made it to the back of the Bentley, reaching out and gripping the rear quarter panel with one muddy hand.

"'Dez?' I heard him call out. "'Mex, well, Chloe!' He stuck his hand into the car's cabin for a moment, then pulled it back out. They wouldn't have left the car, he exclaimed, looking back at us, as if we had the answers he searched for. Where the hell did they go? He said. I saw him look further down the road, then out into the forest.

Desiree, he screamed, cupping his hands over his mouth. Max, Chloe. After a moment. He began down the steep hill. Charles, wait, Ralph yelled after him, but he seemed to either not hear him or ignored him. For a moment, Ruth's face flashed through my mind, her platinum blonde hair soaked with rain,

and her blue eyes peering around worriedly. I knew how I'd feel if I come across my car in a state like this, with a passenger door wide open after leaving her safe, inside. The emotions the image carried pushed away Ralph's warning, along with any negative feelings I had about the wealthy man, and I struggled forward until I, too, reached the Bentley. I heard the quiet rumble of its engines still running, and spared a glance inside, seeing no sign of life among the brown leather and wood. Then I reached down to my belt and pulled the waterproof flashlight from it.

Clicking it on, I shone it down to where Charles had gone. I saw him, standing among the ferns and looking around frantically. He looked up at me, then motioned for me to join him. Come on, I see footprints down here. We'll find them quicker with the flashlight, he said. Without thinking, I braced myself and began sliding down the hill. Wait, Mick! I heard Ralph say.

I heard a hint of desperation on his voice, along with something else. Was that fear? It made me hesitate as I continued sliding down. I'd never heard the man have any fear in his voice before, but it was already too late. I'd reached the bottom of the hill coming to a stop next to Charles. He pointed down, and I aimed my flashlight, seeing an adult's foot. prints, along with two smaller sets clearly visible in the soft earth, filled with water. I followed them with a beam, seeing they led away into the woods.

I spared a quick glance back up at Ralph. He hadn't moved from the top of the hill, still looking down at us. I couldn't see his face in the dark, but his body seemed tense. It made mine do the same. And I looked around for a moment feeling that. There were eyes on me. But I saw nothing. Come on, Charles said, tapping my shoulder and beginning to follow the tracks, I let out a deep breath, then pulled the revolver from my waistband.

Gripping it tightly in my wet hand, I followed slowly. We'd only made it about 50 feet into the forest when he stopped. What? I heard him breathe out. and hearing the fear and confusion in his voice, I hurried to his side. When I reached him, I aimed my flashlight beam down again, and I felt the similar sense of confusion wash over me. The three sets of footprints ended abruptly here.

I flashed the beam around, before aiming it back down. They didn't go off in any other direction, and unless all three had to be able to had pulled a Danny Torrance and walked backwards in their own footsteps. They hadn't gone back. It's like they just disappeared, I thought. The thought made the uneasy feeling I had welling up inside me, Amplify, and I again was overcome with a feeling of being watched. This time, however, it did not go away when I looked up.

If anything, it got worse. I could feel fear creep up on May, though I couldn't tell why. That's when Charles spoke. Hey, hey, is it... Is it ever this still out in the woods? He whispered to May. I shook my head. No.

No, it's never this still. I said. I looked around. Something's not right here, man. We should go back to the truck. try and call the cops again get them out here they'll have an easier time finding your wife and kids than we will i said he looked at me a look of despair and fear but eventually he nodded at me and we turned and began to slog back towards the hill daddy both of us stopped dead in our tracks at the sound it'd been quiet almost too quiet to hear over the rain and wind. But the stillness around us allowed it to bleed through.

I felt the strongest chill go up my spine, forcing me to let out a gasp. I saw Charles turn around rapidly. For a few moments, there was silence. Then... Daddy. Max? Charles whispered out into the night. Chloe?

We? Silence for a few more seconds. Help us, Daddy, came a voice from our right. Charles. Came a woman's voice from our left. I suddenly felt as though I was a cowboy in a western movie who just realized he'd walked into an ambush. Or some dumbass in a horror movie who went to investigate a noise, knowing they'd likely

get disembowled. I couldn't tell why, but the three voices which kept whispering at us just sounded wrong. They sounded off. It wasn't by much, but just enough to be noticeable. Apparently not to Charles, though. He turned to me and snatched the flashlight out of my hands, then began to run back the way we'd come from. Sweetheart, kids, wherever you are, follow my voice, he screamed. Suddenly, I heard Ralph's voice loudly and roughly call out from behind me.

Mick, get the hell back up here now. I began to back up towards the sound of his voice. Charles, I called out. But just as quickly, the sound died in my throat as I was. I saw a faint light appear, first from one direction, then another, until I saw multiple faint blue lights coming in our direction from everywhere in the forest. I felt my jaw drop open as I stared at what came into view. What the hell?

I said. If you're old enough to remember analog television, you'll remember how, when you're when nasty storms came through the area. It would cause the screen to fuzz in and out with static and snow. Ow, faintly through it. You could sometimes see the figures of the people on the screen. Just an outline visible. That's what they look like.

I could see the faint human-like outlines, as they almost seemed to glide forward above the ground. But there were no definitive features to them. Instead, their bodies seemed to be made of actual static. I could see the flickering lines move from one side of their figure to another. I couldn't see any eyes either, but I got the definite feeling they could see just fine. In my mind, I'd pictured Wendigo's or something appearing from the tree line to leap at us when the feeling of fear had washed over me.

But the feeling these things gave off, it was worse. I have never felt such dread and fear in my life as I watched them get closer. That was when I began to hear the whispering. It was soft, like a lover calling to their partner from the bedroom, but it held such sinisterness to it. I heard first a single whisper, then another. And then many whispers. I couldn't tell what they were saying, and I honestly am thankful for that. I already wake up in a cold sweat almost every night just from the inaudible whispers in my dreams already.

And then a distinct whisper cut through them. Daddy! It was the little boy's voice. And instantly, I knew it had to belong to Charles' son. He stumbled forward more, and I heard him begin to sob. Max? He whimpered out. Join us, Daddy.

I heard the whisper of a little girl. The woman's voice spoke again. It's so beautiful, Charles. Join us. We can be a family forever. I saw the man fall. to his knees, as the flickering shapes began to circle him. Charles, run!

I yelled out, still backing away slowly. But he didn't. Instead, he dropped to his knees and sobbed loudly. I yelled at him again. Charles, get the hell out of there! At the same time, I heard Ralph yelling for me to run, But I was too transfixed on the sight in front of me. By now, I could see there had to be 20 or 30 of the shapes coming out of the forest.

In the front, I could see what looked like an adult, woman-sized figure, and two smaller ones behind it. Oh, my God, I thought. I opened my mouth to yell for Charles to run again. But it was too late. The three figures had reached him, while the others slowly closed the circle they'd formed around him. I couldn't hear the woman in children's voices whispering anymore. But Charles must have been able to, because he began crying out. I didn't desert you.

I told you I was going for help. I told you all the way in the car. And then he tumbled onto the ground. Between the flickering figures, I saw him curl into a ball. I could hear him sobbing loudly. The circles of figures had reached him. And almost as one, they began to lean down over him. I couldn't tell what they did to him next.

And I think I was blessed to not have. But I heard him begin to scream. It was the most frightened, pained scream I've ever. heard. It felt like it lasted forever, though in reality it had to have been less than ten seconds. Then all of the sudden, the screaming stopped. The whispering stopped. The forest went entirely still again. I'd frozen still at the man's scream and barely letting out any breath. I slowly brought up my right foot and stepped backwards, trying to make as little noise as possible. I froze as my foot came down on a branch, the sound of it breaking the stillness.

Oh, shit. I knew I just made a terrible mistake. The figures had still been crouched over where they'd done, whatever they'd done to Charles. But now, one stood back. up, turning to look at me. It was close enough now that I could see something, which to this day I wish I hadn't been able to. From a distance, I'd thought they had no eyes. But now I could tell it did. They stood out among the flickering blue static because they were as black as coals. As black as I felt the deepest pits of hell must look like.

and they held this twisted, predatory look in them, the way a tiger might gaze at its next meal. Oh, shit, I whispered out. As more of them stood back up and looked at me, raising the revolver to point at them, I doubted it would do anything to him, but I wasn't going to go down without a fight. And that's when I heard a voice cut through the rain. Mickey I felt frozen to my spot and I swallowed hard

Ruth Ruth I knew she wasn't anywhere near here she was up the coast at her friend's house in Florence and yet I know I heard her voice Mickey Help me Her voice called out again

For a split second I swore I saw her face appear out of the blue static and one figure's face, and I felt myself begin to cry. No, no, how is that possible? I thought. Mick, listen to me. Turn and run, my boy, before they get you, Ralph screamed. His voice snapping me out of the trance I'd been in.

Ruth's face disappeared from the figure, and I saw them begin to move towards me. I felt in control of my feet again, and I turned, feeling as vulnerable as ever, having my back to the things, and I began sprinting through the grass, moss, and muck. It felt like a mile to the hill, but a few seconds later, I slammed into the wet grass and began to climb, my fingers digging into and tearing away that. ground at times. The revolver began to impede my grasp and I dropped it, hearing it fall away back down the hill. I was halfway up when I heard Ralph call again, "'Clime, Mick. Don't look back. Just keep climbing.'

For whatever dumb reason, I still don't know why. Hearing that made me do the complete opposite and I looked down, back towards the bottom of the hill, and I screamed. All the figures had reached the bottom, and were beginning to climb up at me. One thing I could tell now, as they used their hands to dig into the soil, was that their hands ended in what looked like claws. I felt a hand seized the collar of my jacket. I screamed louder as if I felt something dragged me up the hill, roughly, until I was lying on my back in the mud of the dirt road.

Ralph's terrified face appeared over me, and he reached out his hand. After a moment's confusion, I shot my own out and took it, being dragged to my feet by the old man with more strength than I ever knew he had. Get back in the truck! He yelled, then shoved me forward. I didn't hesitate this time. I turned and sprinted for the truck, hearing him following close after me. Grasping at the handle, I tore the driver's door open and hauled myself up into the cab,

Ralph doing the same on the other side. We slammed the door shut, and I reached down, grabbing the shifter in shaking hands and almost wrenching it into reverse. As I did, I glanced up and out the windshield, and I almost screamed again. The Bentley was completely surrounded by the figures. They were even more now than there'd been at the bottom of the hill. I don't know exactly how many, but I'd say at least fifty of them, if not more. They stood, their body shimmering as their cold black eyes watched us.

And then they began to move forward. Go! I heard Ralph call out. And I slammed my foot down on the accelerator, the thick, chunky off-road tires digging into the dirt and mud, shooting the truck backwards. Slowly, the shimmering shapes began to fade away in the distance. Why they never followed. I'll never know.

Maybe they knew they couldn't catch us. Or maybe they'd already had enough with Charles. All I know is I kept my foot down. until I was able to turn the truck around and then I tore down the dirt road until we came back to the main road. I'm fairly certain I never let up off the gas

until the two of us made it back to the station where we both spent the rest of the night. The next morning, when the phone lines came back on, Ralph telephoned the police. He told him Charles had come through the station asking for help, but instead of telling the truth about taking him back, he strangely lied, something he never did, and he told them he'd ducked back out after he'd

refused and headed back the way he'd come. When I asked him why he'd done that, he refused to say anything. The only thing he told me was this. I've lived in this area for almost a century, Mick. The forest out here holds some secrets that should never be known. and they contain creatures that we should never come across. When I pressed him how he knew about whatever those things had been, all he'd say is that he'd seen them once before, many years ago,

while out hiking with someone. He wouldn't tell me who. But the photo I've seen on his desk, one of a much younger version of himself, standing with his arm around a smiling young woman I've never seen before. One wearing an identical wedding ring to the one I've always seen on his hand. Gives me an idea. The cops found the Bentley the next day.

The doors still open as they'd been that night. They found the footsteps leading down the hill. They even found Ralph's revolver, the sheriff giving it back to him a week later, with a strange knowing look. But they never found a trace of Charles or his wife and children. I knew they wouldn't. It's been almost four months since that hellish night.

I'm still working for Ralph, as the man saved my life that night. I could never repay him enough for that. Besides, now he's hired someone else to run the tow truck when he or the mechanics can't make it out there. For that, I'm grateful. I could never step into the cab again. I tried once, but the memories of that night started making me shake uncontrollably.

But aside from that, things have slowly gotten back to normal. Well, as normal as they can get, when you know there are things like that out there. I know I'll never know what they are, and I honestly don't want to. I just hope over time the horrors of that night will slide away from my memory. I'm back with Ruth now, having convinced her to get back together. I don't tell her that I hear the whisper of her voice calling to me from that shimmering figure almost every night in my dreams. I honestly can't help but think often about Charles and his wife and kids.

Part of me hopes they're just simply dead, long gone from this world, in a place where they're together and at peace. Another part of me fears that out there, among the dozens of those things which search the forest for more victims, there are now four new shimmering, static-like figures which walk amongst them.