1 min read
85 words
A lone figure stands at the edge of the highway—still, silent, almost too perfect to be real. She raises her hand, asking for a ride. Maybe she looks lost… or maybe something about her feels off, like she doesn’t belong to this world.
If you stop, she slips into the back seat without a word. The air turns cold. The silence feels heavy. You try to make conversation, but she barely answers—just gives a soft direction, guiding you deeper into the darkness.
