By Mr. Manicotti

My parents used to drag my brother and me on lengthy road trips for vacations, family visits, or just whenever they felt like confining us to the back seat of our old Buick. This was before the days of smart phones and handheld game consoles, so Peter and I would have to entertain ourselves by persistently kicking each other whenever someone’s foot crossed onto the other side. Our dad learned very quickly that threatening to turn the car around just made us kick each other harder to try and avoid spending a third of our weekend driving.

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Fortunately, my overactive imagination made those trips slightly more bearable. I could spend hours with two action figures making up grand quests or drawing on an old notepad. Peter was not so lucky and usually ended up whining and falling asleep.

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One evening, we were driving through a remote area of Ohio after visiting our Aunt and Uncle in Carrolton. I didn’t mind this trip as much because the landscape was nice to look at. I had recently begun a new game called Running Man where I would use my fingers to pretend someone was running next to the car and had to jump to avoid obstacles. Since there were always new challenges, I could keep this up for hours.  

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It was about 5:00 when we pulled into the rest area for a pit stop and snack break. The early December air had a cool, wet odor from a recent rain and droplets of water glistened in the pale glow of remaining sunlight. I was walking back to the car where mom was trying to wake Peter up to use the bathroom when a twig snapped in the woods nearby. I turned and squinted into the darkness of the tree line. A shadow with the vague outline of a tall human and wide, piercing eyes, watched me. I looked around for my dad but he was still in the bathroom. The car, woods and bathroom were all about the same distance apart with me directly in the middle. The late autumn breeze sent dried leaves scratching their way across the pavement like hundreds of tiny claws at the door.

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A twig snapped again and I whipped my head back towards the trees. To my horror, the already tall figure raised itself up even higher and I realized that it had been sitting. Now towering over me from the forest, a sickly smile spread across its face.

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I turned to sprint towards the car and clobbered Peter, who was groggily walking towards the bathroom.

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“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,” I said, looking around to see if mom had noticed. She was rummaging through her purse in the car.

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“Ow, what gives?” said Peter, shoving me off of him and standing up.

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“I saw a-“ I started and turned back towards the woods. It was empty. Even in the gloom I could tell the shadowy figure was no longer there. Peter generally tolerated my whimsical claims of gnomes or dragons more than everyone else, but he already seemed annoyed.

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“I got spooked, that’s all.”

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Peter stared at me for a moment and then shrugged. “Whatever,” he said, and continued on towards the bathroom.

I was 9 and Peter was 7, but his no-nonsense attitude and large stature made people think he was the older one, or that we were at least twins. I stared at the woods where I had seen the shape. Maybe this was just my own imagination puling some fear out of the dark recesses of my brain and filling in the gaps.

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Everyone loaded up in the car and we hit the road once again. We still had almost 3 hours left to drive and with the hum of the engine and occasional patter of rain on the roof, I soon fell asleep.

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I opened my eyes to a soft red glow illuminating the cabin from the outside. Street lamps? Those were more yellow. Stuck in traffic with a bunch of taillights? Couldn’t be that, I still heard the hum of the car rolling down the highway. I looked over at Pete but saw only an empty seat. Outside his window was only a dull red. Droplets hit the window and streaked towards the back, leaving translucent red snakes on the glass.

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A raspy breath exhaled from the front seat. Slowly I turned to look at the front. Mom’s seat was empty as well but in the driver’s seat, limbs folded and contorted to fit in the space.

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“I’m coming for you,” said a voice like ice crunching between your teeth.

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The figure slowly turned towards me and I saw that ghastly smile come into view.

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”HONK!”

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The car’s horn snapped me out of sleep.

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“Damn deer,” said my dad, watching the beast run off to the side of the road.

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“I swear there’s more of them every year.”

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I glanced over at the other back seat to where Peter was passed out with his head down and a drool spot forming on his car pillow. From the seat in front of me my mom snored softly, the horn apparently not enough to wake her either. There I go again, I thought. Too creative for my own good whether I’m awake or asleep.

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Sighing with relief I sat back and held up my hand to the window to play some Running Man. This wasn’t the best area since too many obstacles meant running man was always having to jump, but the game always managed to calm my nerves. Running man leapt over fallen trees, a street sign, a mailbox, an old wrecked car. I was pretty good at this game and was marveling at running man’s skill when I noticed something behind my hand mimicking the movements.

Slowly I lowered my hand and what I saw made my breath catch in my throat. A dark, lanky figure was sprinting next to the car, maybe 15 feet away off the side of the road. It effortlessly dodged logs and mailboxes as it ran and turned to face me with those piercing eyes and horrific, wicked smile.

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“D- da-“ I stammered, but the words wouldn’t come.

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The running figure began veering towards the car, its face inching closer to mine.

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“Dad-“ I squeaked, barely above a whisper.

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I felt the car speed up.

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“Dad,” I said again hoarsely.

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 “I see it,” my dad said softly, trying his best to hide the shiver in his voice.

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I wasn’t expecting that. Normally when I grasp for my parents’ attention about something I’ve conjured up, they would dismiss it after checking around to make me feel better. I came to learn somewhere in the back of my mind that the horrific things I saw were likely just in my own mind. But in that moment, all reassurances vanished and the horror became fully realized as truly there.

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I slowly turned back towards the road. Through the distortion of rain droplets sliding across the window, the shape glided over the edge of the embankment. Its legs seemed to bend at three- no, four different joints. The face remained locked on the car.

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“Dad, is it gonna get us?” I stammered.

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“No… I don’t know,” said my dad, his head twitching back and forth between the windshield and passenger window to track the thing. The engine revved higher and the car lurched forward a bit faster. I craned my neck to see to speedometer cross 70 mph.

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“It’s rainy,” said my dad in a low voice, “I can’t go much faster than this.”

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Outside, the running creature closed the gap and, in one sickening motion that made me want to throw up, cleared the guard rail. Now it was on the shoulder of the road, no more than five feet from the car.

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My dad cursed under his breath and the car lunged forward again.

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“Come on, you can’t keep this up forever,” he said.

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“Dad,” I said, my voice again reduced to a whisper at what I now saw. “Dad! DAD! He’s reaching for the car!!!”

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My mom jolted awake. Peter stayed asleep.

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“Ryan, what the hell is going on, what are you-“

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My mom was cut off by dad pointing out her window.

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“Oh my God, what the hell is that!?” she said, recoiling from her door so that she was almost on the center console. At this, Peter’s eyes now blinked open.

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“What’s going on?” he said groggily.

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A pale white hand with too many lanky fingers stretched towards the car. I was aware of Peter screaming in the background, but it sounded distant, as did mom yelling at my dad to drive faster.

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“There’s a bridge coming up here,” Dad said, “maybe we can lose it. The fingers came to within an inch of my window, a dozen nails eager to shatter it and grab me by the throat. They delicately stroked the window, leaving tiny etches in the glass. Just as I was prepared for the hand to burst through, the concrete bridge flew past the car like a train. For a moment, all I saw was a dark wall, before it opened up to the night again.

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The creature was gone. I turned to the rear window and shuddered. The figure was standing on top of the bridge, towering over the road in the gloom. As we left it behind, I thought I could make out one of its hands slowly waving at us.

I wish I could say this experience helped me overcome my overactive imagination. It was nice that my parents took me more seriously for a change, but now that I’ve seen what’s out there on a dark stretch of road outside Carrolton, Ohio, the paranoia has never ceased. Unlike before, when I could rely of the warm assurance that what I was seeing only existed in my own mind, now I must always question it. That shadow dancing across the wall, an icy voice barely legible over the wind, are they simply my own fears, or is something out there waiting for me?

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