A creepy short story

He walked alone on the road ahead.

Arthur wondered if they all spotted the man at the same time, because it seemed that way. His mother, sitting forward in the passenger seat beside his father, lifting a finger, pointing. His father’s head jutting forward and a single surprised word falling from his lips.

‘Oh.’

And Arthur, his eyes widening as the figure came into sight, emerging out of the darkness ahead. He sat forward too, his fingers curling around the edge of the seat, his breath shortening in his throat.

The figure was tall, broad in the shoulders and wore a long dark coat and a wide brimmed hat. It made a strange sight, thought Arthur, as the car drew closer. Almost looked like a walking scarecrow. The man was using a stick to walk, leaning on it heavily as he trudged along.

‘We should stop,’ his mother said sweetly, as the rain hammered against the windscreen. ‘It’s so awful out there, Frank.’

Arthur saw his father nod, agreeing that it was.

‘No!’ he said sharply from the back seat. ‘We shouldn’t stop!’

His mother looked back at him with a frown and pouting lips. ‘Darling, it’s all right. He probably just needs a lift into town. We’re passing through on the way home. We can just drop him off.’

Arthur felt his teeth clench together. He shook his head at her but no words would come out. Instead all he could do was stare ahead at the figure on the road, as his father slowed the car. His heart throbbed weakly under his winter clothes and his eyes strained in their sockets as his mouth gaped wordlessly. Arthur had no way to articulate the raw fear he felt coursing through his small body.

‘It’s the right thing to do on a night like this,’ his father agreed, as the car caught up with the figure in the road. He rolled his window down as they drew parallel. ‘Do you need a lift, young fella?’

The man stopped walking and looked back at them in surprise. Arthur’s father stopped the car and put it into neutral. The stranger leaned down to see them all better. His eye caught Arthur’s and a smile crept slowly across his narrow face. It was too dark to see well, but Arthur saw sharp cheekbones and large teeth revealed behind thin lips when the man smiled.

‘That would be amazing, how kind of you!’ the stranger enthused. ‘I missed the bus, didn’t I? Was meant to be up in the mountains by evening, but that’s not going to happen now.’

‘What’s in the mountains?’ Arthur’s mother asked, her tone friendly while Arthur’s guts churned and writhed inside him.

‘My sister and her family,’ the man replied. ‘I’m spending a few weeks with them.’

‘Come on, get in,’ Arthur’s father prompted. ‘It’s getting worse out there. There’s meant to be a storm coming, you know.’ He nodded to the trees at the side of the road whipping wildly back and forth as a cold wind screamed through them.

‘Thank you!’ The stranger opened the back door and slid in beside Arthur. Rainwater flew as he took off his hat. ‘You okay, son?’ he asked him, patting his leg in a friendly gesture. ‘Look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘Oh, he’s just shy!’ Arthur’s mother laughed. ‘That’s Arthur, I’m Clara and my husband is Frank. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

‘You too,’ said the man, as the car started off again. ‘I’ve been hitchhiking across the country and rarely have I met a family as friendly and kind as yours.’

Clara beamed at him. ‘That’s just lovely. Thank you, sir.’

‘We only live on the other side of town,’ Frank said then. ‘We can drop you off there if you like?’

‘But everything will be closed,’ said Clara. ‘What with the storm coming in.’

They drove on in silence for a while. Arthur sat rigidly, his eyes fixed on the silent black road. He felt the man relax beside him, leaning back slightly, his legs spread, his hands loose in his lap and the walking stick between them. Outside, the rain grew harder and fiercer and strong winds began to rock the car.

‘This is nasty,’ grumbled Frank, slowing down. ‘But we should make it, all right.’

‘Perhaps you could stay at ours tonight?’ Clara said then, turning to smile at the hitchhiker.

‘He’s a stranger!’ Arthur burst out, his gaze flicking between his mother and the man beside him. He side-eyed the man with a frown, but the man just shrugged.

His mother’s mouth fell open. ‘Arthur, don’t be so rude! What has got into you?’

The man waved a hand. ‘No, no, he’s right. I am a stranger and I couldn’t possibly put you to any more trouble. Town will be fine. I’m sure I’ll find somewhere open.’

‘Have you called your sister?’ Arthur asked him then, his voice thin and strangled with fear. ‘Have you got a phone?’

The man slid his hand into the pocket of his thick dark coat and brought out a slim mobile phone. ‘It’s dead, I’m afraid. Battery died hours back. It’s fine, honestly. I’ll be there by morning, no doubt.’

Arthur nodded silently. The car rolled on. The rain and wind intensified and as they drove through town, it became harder and harder to see.

‘Perhaps we should pull over, Frank,’ said Clara, looking nervously ahead.

‘Everything’s closed, as expected,’ Frank replied, grimacing back at her. He looked in the wing-mirror to catch the stranger’s eye. ‘Sir, we can’t leave you here in this weather. Come back to ours until the worst of it passes. We’ll light a fire, cook food, get warm. Then I can drive you up to the mountains in the morning if you like?’

Arthur wanted to look at the stranger. He wanted to shake his head at his parents and beg them, no, no, no, please no, but he couldn’t move. His lips quivered around his gritted teeth and his fingers dug into the seat so tightly his knuckles ached. It seemed like he had forgotten how to breathe.

The strange laughed softly. ‘I don’t think I can turn down such a kind offer. Thank you so much. That would be amazing.’

With the decision made, Arthur’s father drove on, following the black road until the town was far behind them. The stranger started to talk, engaging his parents in a conversation that ranged from bad weather, to unreliable public services, to how annoying his sister could be sometimes. The three adults laughed and swapped jokes and by the time they turned off the main road and rumbled onto the bumpy track that led to home, they seemed to have relaxed with each other.

Arthur’s bad feeling, meanwhile, bloomed in his chest until he felt like he had been drenched in ice.

The car stopped outside the house. ‘It’s a beauty!’ the stranger declared, looking up at the three storey Victorian building.

‘It’s a work in progress!’ Clara replied, unclipping her seat-belt. ‘We’re gradually updating and modernising it. It’s been in Frank’s family for generations, you know!’

‘I can’t wait to see inside,’ replied the stranger.

One by one they hopped out of the car and dashed through the driving rain into the house. Frank quickly set to work lighting a fire in the living-room while Clara hoisted a large iron kettle onto the stove to boil water for hot drinks.

‘I’ll start a soup,’ she called from the kitchen as the two men and Arthur knelt in front of the fledgling fire. ‘Warm us all up!’

‘This is wonderful,’ the stranger smiled, flames flickering in his eyes as he turned his face to Arthur and winked.

Arthur stared back at him. It was too late now and he knew it. A cold feeling spread through him and the pit of his stomach filled with dread but there was nothing he could do. Not now. Something awful was about to happen to them all and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Arthur moved backwards when his father picked up the fire poker and brought it down onto the back of the hitchhiker’s head. The stranger never saw it coming, which Arthur supposed was a blessing. Sometimes they knew. Sometimes they changed their minds in the car, panicked or got a bad feeling but even then, there was no escape. Sometimes they turned their head at the last second and saw the poker coming. Sometimes they fought and bit and scratched and screamed and thrashed on the floor, but it always ended the same.

Later that night, Arthur sat in front of the fire while his parents watched TV from the sofa behind him. Their bellies were full. Their teeth stained red. Leg and arm bones joined the logs glowing on the fire and Arthur’s small belly was full of vegetables and flesh.