Tim’s voice faded as he lost himself in the story, his eyes frantically darting around as if searching for Timothy’s killer himself. Seojun, unimpressed, cleared his throat to cut in.
“Isn’t this just your typical hitchhiker ghost story?” he asked, trying to sound polite. “I’ve heard variations of this urban legend from every corner of the globe.”
Tim’s words were followed by a low rumble of thunder that shook the earth. The sky, already a deep, bruised purple, darkened further, as if the last of the light was being snuffed out by an ominous cloud cover. The only thing that pierced the gathering gloom was the truck’s headlights, casting an unearthly glow over the desolate road.
Seojun wasn’t oblivious to the potential risks of picking up a stranger. He eyed the hitchhiker, taking in his disheveled appearance and wiry frame. The guy’s thin T-shirt did little to disguise his pale, almost delicate arms that looked like they could barely lift a gallon of milk. Seojun felt a flicker of confidence as he watched the hitchhiker’s small hands fumble awkwardly with the backpack in his lap.
Seojun’s blue truck rattled and groaned as it bounced along the dirt track cutting through the thick woods. Every bone-jarring bump slammed his head against the roof, a dull ache throbbing in his temples as stress gnawed at him. He jerked awake, teeth clenched in frustration. How the hell had he managed to get so lost?
Johan watched the invisible footsteps creep across the towels, at first hesitant, like a dancer testing the stage. Only the balls of the feet touched the plush fabric, as if trying to remain undetected. But as the unseen intruder gained confidence, it shed its caution and sprinted towards Johan with a frenzied patter of steps.
Lindy emerged from beneath the bed, her fiery red hair matted with blood, scarlet rivulets streaking down her face like grotesque war paint. Her skin, stained crimson, made the whites of her eyes and flash of teeth even more jarring. Chest heaving with frenzied exhilaration, she spoke in a giddy, breathless rush.
“You a cop or something?”
“Nope, definitely not.”
The woman at the front desk barely looked up from her magazine. “Then sorry, no can do on the guest info.”
“Come on, not even a tiny exception?” Johan flashed his most charming smile.
Seojun’s usually sluggish mind suddenly kicked into overdrive. The unsettling DULC233E channel playing on the TV was a clear omen: that nameless, unseen entity was about to emerge from the shadows under the bed! Cold sweat trickled down his forehead as sheer panic took hold, its icy grip tightening around his racing heart.
WHAM!
Seojun’s fist collided with his cheek, the sharp sting snapping him back to reality. He clenched his jaw, watching the stars dance across his vision.
I must be losing it. What’s with this melodramatic angst? Are you a teenager going through puberty?
Seojun’s fingers were just centimeters away from the bathroom doorknob when an unexpected knock at the front door startled him so much that he thought his soul might escape his body. The sound sent a chilling wave of déjà vu through him, reminding him of a scene from the movie he had just watched moments ago. Goosebumps erupted on his arms, and his already pale face turned even paler.
The movie’s attention to realism was so meticulous that it didn’t even have background music. The only sounds were the mundane noises of daily life, which made the eerie atmosphere all the more jarring. The sudden, melodic metal rings rattling that played during the scene felt completely out of place, and Seojun couldn’t help but find it ironic.
Joseph stumbled to the phone like a drunk on a bender, collapsing onto the floor. But even in his injured state, his broadcaster instincts kicked in, and he continued filming the call without missing a moment. Seojun couldn’t help but be impressed by Joseph’s dedication.