The road stretched ahead, empty and winding, swallowed by the night. Streetlights flickered weakly, casting long shadows on the pavement. The silence in the car was thick, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional tap of your fingers against your phone screen.

"This road gives me the creeps," you muttered, pulling your hoodie tighter around yourself.

Vince smirked, keeping his hands steady on the wheel. "It’s just a road, babe."

But even he couldn’t ignore the eerie feeling pressing against his chest. It felt like you two had been driving for hours, yet the scenery never changed—just the same stretch of pavement, the same lonely streetlights.

Then, up ahead, a figure appeared by the guardrail. A woman in a long dress, standing motionless.

You sat up. "Do you see that?"

Vince’s grip on the wheel tightened. "Yeah."

As you approached, the headlights washed over the woman. Her face was turned away, hidden by a curtain of dark hair.

"Should we stop?" you asked hesitantly.

Vince swallowed. "I don’t know..."

The radio crackled. Static filled the car. Then—

"You’re late."

The voice wasn’t coming from the radio.

Your breath hitched as you turned to Vince, but his wide eyes weren’t on you. They were locked on the rearview mirror.

There, in the backseat, sat the woman.

Smiling.