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Cab Fare

They don’t make a strong enough coffee to keep you awake on nights like these. The road hypnotizes you. Your eyes get heavy. Next thing you know you’re starring at an 18 wheeler on the wrong side of the road about to turn you into a stain. That normally wakes you up.

This time wasn’t like that. This time I woke up safely parked in front of a building with no clue how I got there. I shook off the sleep, pulled a smoke from the glove compartment, and raised my head to light it when I saw him in the rear view mirror.

I jumped like a frightened school girl and screamed “Who the hell are YOU!” He just sat there staring. No response to my reaction whatsoever. He wasn’t really doing anything but looking out the window. He was dressed in a suit. Didn’t look dangerous so I assumed the guy probably was just a little drunk. I settled down a bit and sipped my coffee.

“The names Charon. Where to big guy?” I asked.

He hesitated but then clumsily said “Just down the road. I think. Just drive down this road here. I don’t think it’s far.”

“You ok buddy?” I asked, noticing the man had a cut on his forehead. “Get into a tussle out there?

“Yes. Yes, it’s been a long night. But I’m fine.” the man said taking out a handkerchief and wiping his brow.

“You seem a bit confused. You haven’t figured it out yet?” I asked.

“I think I have.”

“Wild ain’t it?” I replied with a chuckle.

“Yes, I guess it is.” The man paused for a moment. “Should I… Should I be scared?”

“Nooo… A man like you?” I responded. “You seem like top stuff to me. I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about.”

“Is it …?”

“Is it Heaven? Hell? Nah, you fellas got that one wrong.” I laughed. “I’m actually not completely sure to tell you the truth. I’ve never been. But I’m sure it’s a fine place.”

“I… I haven’t always been the best…” he paused. “I made a lot of mistakes in my life.”

“Haven’t we all Mr. Thompson? No. Your good stock. Nothing to worry about.”

Mr. Thompson motioned to the side of the road and I pulled the car over to let him out.

I looked at Mr. Thompson’s file again. It was the stuff of nightmares. Now I can’t really mention any details to you, seeing how I’m under NDA and all, but let’s just say he made a lot of money in “trafficking”. Get my drift? Of course, I never tell them what I really know. Kills the small talk. And the surprise!

I turn on the “On Duty” light and roll down the window reaching for another smoke. I catch that familiar smell of flesh burning and hear the first of Mr. Thompson’s many screams to come. All in a day’s work. Speaking of, here’s my next fare.

🛈 - Posted on r/shortscarystories cut to 500 words. Thx for reading!



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