Fear Dash

Steven tapped on his phone to bring up the GPS. He was a driver for Door Dash and on occasion was known to get lost. GPS said he was going the right way but Steven wasn’t so sure, the road was dark and he just drove through what looked like an oversized wrought iron gate. The street curved to the left and the right and the left again, making Steven’s inner sense of direction dizzy. He pulled over and stopped the car when his phone said, “you have arrived at your destination.”

Something felt wrong and Steven checked the GPS again. He did not see any houses or buildings, in fact, he could hardly see anything at all, there was barely a sliver of a moon and no discernable street lights. CRACK! Lightning illuminated the surrounding terrain. There was grass, trees, and silhouettes of rectangles and crosses. Steven realized they were tombstones.

“It is a graveyard,” he thought, letting this sink in for a minute. “I’m in a graveyard on Halloween night. Who would order food here?”

He squinted out the windows, trying to make out shapes in the pitch-black. There was a small building about the size of a large shed, maybe forty yards away.

“But if I’m in a graveyard,” he considered, “then that is a mausoleum.”

Curiosity got the better of Steven, he grabbed the Chinese food, and exited the car, locking it with his key fob.

Steven turned on the flashlight on his phone and pointed it at the path that led to the structure. Lightning crackled a few more times, just small bursts, followed a few seconds later by rumbling thunder. Each flash of light startled him, but not enough to turn back, he was filled with a mixture of excitement and fear. Steven shined the light on each side of the pavement as he walked and turned back a few times too, he hadn’t survived this long by being caught unaware.

The graveyard was likely beautiful during the day. Steven’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness and he could see the outlines of trees and benches, and he knew there were mountains in the background. Besides the occasional roll of thunder, it was as silent as the tombs around him. Steven checked the name on the food order, The Whitcomb’s.

Steven stopped in front of the mausoleum. It was difficult to make out any details in the darkness but the outside walls resembled smooth marble, it had an angled roof, and two columns, one on each side of the entrance. A name was chiseled at the top but Steven couldn’t read it because his phone’s flashlight was too weak. CRACK!! This time the lightning was so close, it lit up the entire graveyard, and he glanced up and read the name. The sky grew dark as the flash faded, thunder clapped overhead, and he started to back away, still staring up at the name.

Whitcomb was the name on the mausoleum. Steven’s heart sped up, his mouth felt too dry to speak or swallow, and his hands were trembling. A light mist of rain started, bringing with it the smell of grass and soil. An owl hooted and took flight, wings flapping in the night air.

Steven’s mind was filled with unanswerable questions. “This must be some kind of mistake,” he reasoned and was ready to go back to the car when he thought he heard something.

“Hello,” he called out, hoping deep down nobody would respond.

The sound came again, A voice so soft and hushed, that Steven couldn’t make out the words.

“Who’s there?” he called, his voice cracking. All was still, no sounds or movement but Steven felt terror squeezing his heart.

“So, hungry! Haven’t eaten in ages,” a shrill voice cried, decibels higher than before.

Steven jerked the flashlight back and forth over the path and nearby tombstones, shining it around each side of the mausoleum, searching for the source of the voice. It sounded strange, otherworldly, and filled his body with dread.

“Hungry,” the voice screeched, followed by a scraping of metal across stone like a blade being sharpened. The hairs on Steven’s neck rose as the metallic sound crept closer and grew louder.

Steven let out a strangled cry. He dropped the bags of food and sprinted for his car, losing his footing, he slipped on the wet pavement. He made it to his car and pulled up multiple times on the door handle. It wouldn’t open. Panic consumed Steven. He started patting down his pockets.

“My keys! Where are my keys,” his brain screamed!

“ Oh no. I had them in my hand when I dropped the food!”

With another crack of lightning with thunder directly over Steven’s head, his legs lost their strength. He glanced at the abandoned bags of food, chow mien spilling from the top.

“No way”, he thought, the keys were too close to the mausoleum’s door. Instead, he spun toward the direction he believed the iron gates were and ran, pumping his arms and legs to gain speed.

All was calm in the graveyard. The storm was moving on, propelled by a northern wind. A couple minutes after Steven fled, two shapes appeared from behind the mausoleum, one carrying a large shovel. They were leaning on each other, holding each other up as they walked crooked, not from a drunken stupor, but from uncontrolled laughter.

“Did you see the look on his face? Priceless,” one male chortled and dropped the shovel.

“He ran like the guy from that movie Forrest Gump. This gets funnier every Halloween,” the other said and mimicked how Steven had run.

They hunched down, opened the bags of food, passed containers back and forth till each was satisfied, and began to eat.

“Hey. Look at this. The idiot dropped his keys,” one said to the other. “We can go for a joy ride making this an epic Halloween.”

The two began laughing again between bites, blind and deaf to the dark shadow lurking behind them. It made no sound as it moved forward, even as it picked up the shovel and hoisted it like a baseball bat. The shovel smacked against the back of the first victim’s head, his eyes rolling back as he slumped over. The other dropped his fork and looked at his friend when the shovel attacked again and busted his face, knocking him out cold as well.

The shadow glided over to the entrance to the mausoleum and struck the lock twice with the shovel, breaking it like the second victim’s nose. With the doors pulled open, it turned its attention back to the two unconscious males. It grabbed the legs of the first victim and grunted as it dragged him into the mausoleum, then it went back to claim the other prize.

After it was satisfied that both casualties were arranged uncomfortably on the cold marble floor, it exited, closing the doors. With its work completed, Steven crouched down and grabbed his keys, then with a shrug of his shoulders, he picked up an unopened container and began eating.