Cursed

Slow music and beer, best partners for a long journey. My car zoomed past the swaying trees on the end of the isolated avenue. It had been a rewarding night and I was whistling a joyful tune excitedly. It was pitch dark, my headlights illuminating the road only till few feet ahead. However, with lots of liquor, comes an uncontrollable urge to piss. I stopped my car on one side of the road and rushed to the nearby bush. Whistling, while I was relieving myself, I heard a loud thud. I turned around immediately, to find a giant owl sitting on my car's hood, staring intently in my eyes.

Closing my zip quickly, I rushed to my beautiful Mustang to shoo it away, but the creature was adamant as a rock. I picked up a stone and threw at it with all my might, which went straight to my windshield, smashing a hole in it. The owl calmly flew away hooting, leaving a huge dent on my hood. Pissed at my bad luck, I went straight inside the car and started driving. The radio refused to work and yielded to static. Now my cosy ride wasn't cozy anymore, the radio was off, chilling breeze pierced through the hole in the windshield and a huge dent was waiting to be repaired when I get back home. In no moment, a black coyote dashed from the side of the road, it's eyes glistening like glowing ambers when he saw me. To my utmost terror it just froze right in the middle of the path.

Taken aback by surprise, I slammed down the brakes and the car screeched down to halt. Obviously I expected the wretched creature to cross the road, not freeze down there to be a fresh roadkill. With the motive to kill that cursed dog, I stepped out to see the same gigantic owl in the exact same position where that coyote once was, gazing me back again with those deep eyes. Finding everything creepy as hell, I immediately turned around to go to my car. A shiver ran down my spine to find a tall man standing right behind me with only inches of space between us. I was taken aback. He was shabbily dressed in rags, had a dense beard and long dust matted hair. He was frighteningly staring me with a grave expression. After a long pause, he spoke in a deep, croaky voice, "You should not step out of your car in any case, at this time on such roads. You will always regret it or even worse. Some things tend to make you do so, to pull you out to the vulnerability of the darkness, to the hostility and wildness of nature, do not let them succeed."

I couldn't say a word. I just ran straight to my car and started driving. I was perspiring even in the chilling cold and my head started feeling light as if I'm going to pass out. After few minutes, I felt something horribly petrifying. My seat was being pushed and nudged in front repeatedly with extreme force as if someone was wiggling in the back seat, struggling to make more room. Honestly, I couldn't muster the courage to look back in the mirror nor could I stop the car and step out after that creepy guy's threat. I squeezed the accelerator further to reach back home as soon as possible.

The contents of my bag I had next to me were rattling loudly by the high speed. I looked at them and for a moment I regretted my past decision. 'Now it's too late', shaking myself to sense, I concentrated on the road. The nudging from the back seat stopped and a fine mist started rapidly to spread on the windows and the windshield. I frantically tried to wipe the glass, but the mist was on the other side of the windshield. I tried to peek through the hole in it but in a flash, my car tumbled over a huge boulder and toppled upside down on the side of the avenue

.

The headlines on the next day newspaper were , " Robert Colin was found dead in a car accident on the Clinton Road, New Jersey. The alleged time of accident was at 2 A.M. Police retrieved a bag of rare antique artifacts alongside his mutilated body. The priceless artifacts were reported stolen at 11 P.M. by the owner of 'THE MUSEUM OF OCCULT'. the very same night. The ceramic totems and symbols retrieved were mysteriously unharmed and completely intact. Speculated as cursed and bewitched, one way or other, they always turn back home."