Unseen Passenger

Locking the heavy doors, I was the last one left in the quiet building. I climbed into my red Jeep Liberty and fired up the engine, but the routine shattered when I looked through the glass.

A man, visible only from the waist up, glided past the frame in a tan members jacket and black cap.

I turned my head to clear my path to reverse, but the pavement behind me was completely empty. He had vanished into thin air.

Driving away, the dashboard lights cast an eerie glow, and the hum of the tires felt suddenly distant.

A phantom sensation brushed my skin, like an invisible spiderweb draping across my face—the sticky, static touch of a trailing shroud. The cabin air grew instantly heavy and freezing cold.

The rearview mirror held a space that felt occupied, a heavy thickness pressing against the back of my seat.

Without a word, without a sound, an unseen passenger was now riding home with me