The Hitchhiker

On a dark and stormy night, the rain hammered against the windshield of Mark's car as he drove down the desolate highway. The only sound in the car was the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers and the occasional crackle of thunder in the distance. The eerie silence was broken when Mark saw a figure standing by the side of the road, thumb outstretched, hitchhiking.

Mark hesitated for a moment, but his conscience got the better of him, and he pulled over to offer the stranger a ride. The man climbed into the back seat without a word, his face obscured by the shadows of the car's interior. As they drove on, Mark tried to make small talk with the hitchhiker, but the man remained silent, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Mark couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about his passenger, but he chalked it up to nerves and continued driving.

Suddenly, the hitchhiker spoke, his voice low and gravelly. "You shouldn't have picked me up, Mark. Bad things happen to those who offer rides to strangers on nights like this."

Mark's blood ran cold as he glanced in the rear view mirror, only to find the back seat empty. Panicked, he slammed on the brakes, the car skidding to a stop on the rain-slicked road. Heart pounding, Mark turned around in his seat, but there was no sign of the hitchhiker anywhere.

Shaken, Mark continued driving, his mind racing with fear and confusion. Was it all just a trick of the light, or had he truly picked up a ghostly hitchhiker on that stormy night? The road stretched on, winding through the dark countryside, the storm showing no signs of letting up. Mark's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he tried to push the unsettling encounter out of his mind.

But then, he saw him again – the hitchhiker, standing by the side of the road, his silhouette barely visible in the dim glow of the headlights. Mark's heart lurched in his chest as he realized they were passing the same spot where he had first picked up the mysterious stranger. Unable to resist the pull of fate, Mark slowed down and pulled over once more. The hitchhiker climbed in, his presence casting a chill over the car. This time, Mark was too terrified to speak, his eyes fixed on the spectre in his back seat.

As they drove on, the hitchhiker's form began to flicker and fade, his features twisting and contorting in the darkness. Mark's grip on reality slipped as he realized he was not alone in the car with a hitchhiker – he was sharing his ride with a vengeful spirit, doomed to roam the highways in search of unsuspecting travellers. The car seemed to grow colder, the air thick with an otherworldly presence. Mark's breath fogged in front of him as the hitchhiker turned to face him, his eyes burning with an otherworldly light.

"You should have listened to my warning, Mark," the hitchhiker whispered, his voice echoing with an unnatural resonance. "Now, you are bound to me, cursed to roam these roads for eternity."

With a final, bone-chilling cackle, the hitchhiker vanished into thin air, leaving Mark alone in the car, shaken to his core. The storm raged on outside, the wind howling like a banshee as Mark drove on, his mind haunted by the ghostly hitchhiker and the curse he had unwittingly brought upon himself.

And so, the legend of the cursed hitchhiker lived on, a cautionary tale for those who dared to offer rides to strangers on dark and stormy nights.