We Shouldn’t Have Picked Up the Hitchhiker - Horror Stories

We Shouldn’t Have Picked Up the Hitchhiker - Horror Stories

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
I'll be honest. I was against it from the start.
Picking up a hitchhiker at night in the middle of
nowhere bad idea. But my friend Emma thought it was
part of the adventure, and Mark, who was driving, said
it'd be fine. So when we saw the guy standing
under the flickering light of an old highway sign thumb out,

(00:22):
we slowed down. He looked maybe late twenties, tall, wearing
a hooded jacket and carrying a small Duffel bag. His
face was hard to make out in the dark, but
he smiled. When we pulled over, headed west, he asked
his voice was calm, too calm? Mark said yeah, hop in.

(00:46):
The guy slid into the back seat, right next to me.
The smell hit first, damp earth, like he'd been rolling
around in the woods. He didn't say much at first,
just stared out the window. After a while, Emma asked
where he was headed. He said, not far, just keep driving.

(01:07):
Something in the way he said. It made my stomach twist.
About twenty minutes in the conversation died completely. The highway
was empty, no cars ahead or behind, just trees on
both sides. That's when I noticed the guy wasn't blinking.
He was staring at Mark's hands on the steering wheel,

(01:29):
watching every movement. I whispered to Emma that we should
drop him off at the next gas station. She nodded,
looking just as uneasy. Mark tried to keep things casual,
but I could see his knuckles tightening on the wheel. Finally,
a lit gas station appeared like a miracle. Mark pulled in,

(01:51):
saying we needed to fill up. The hitchhiker leaned forward
and whispered right into Mark's ear, no, keep going. That's
when I decided. I shoved the car door open, grabbed
Emma's hand, and told her to get out. Mark hesitated,
but the look on my face must have convinced him.

(02:11):
He cut the engine, yanked the keys, and jumped out too.
The hitchhiker didn't move, He just sat there, smiling. Then
slowly he turned his head toward me, and in the
fluorescent gas station light, I saw his face clearly for
the first time. It wasn't right. His eyes were completely black,

(02:33):
not like pupils, like holes. His skin was pale, almost gray,
and stretched too tight. I froze. Emma screamed. Mark ran
inside the station to call the clerk, but when we
turned back to the car. The back seat was empty.
The hitchhiker was gone. The three of us stood there

(02:53):
in silence, scanning the lot. Nothing, no sign of him.
It was like he into thin air. We got back
into the car, shaken but trying to convince ourselves maybe
he slipped out and ran off. But as Mark started
the engine, the radio crackled to life on its own.
A deep, distorted voice said, not far now, just keep driving.

(03:20):
We killed the radio and drove like hell. Didn't stop
again until we hit a crowded town with street lights
and traffic. For the rest of the trip, we couldn't
shake the feeling we weren't alone at night. When the
windows fogged up, I swear I could see handprints appearing
on the inside of the glass. It's been months, but
I can't drive at night anymore. Every time I pass

(03:43):
a hitchhiker on the side of the road, I feel
my chest tightened, because part of me thinks if we
hadn't stopped, he still would have found a way inside