The Phantom Stranger (standard:horror, 2935 words)
Author: Casey Ponciano	Added: Mar 31 2003	Views/Reads: 3455/2308	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Donavan tried to avoid the ghostly figure on FR 597. Some people are afraid of ghosts. But what if they were trying to tell u something. Something that meant the world to u.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

left pocket and I took it out.  I always had my phone in hand just in 
case of an accident or if August tried to call me.  Her parents were 
out of town for the month.  And with that killer on the loose, I didn't 
want anything happening to August.  I drove with my left hand and held 
the cellular phone with my right hand.  I looked at the yellow lines in 
the middle of the road and the white lines on the shoulders of the 
road.  Then I observed the signs by the road and the reflectors.  I 
always wondered what the reflectors were for.  When I was a little kid, 
my father told me they were suppose to guide you and let you know where 
the shoulders of the road ended. 

Suddenly I had strange feeling, like someone was watching me.  I looked
at the middle rearview mirror and made sure that no one was in the 
backseat.   No one was. I came up to a stop sign where another road 
intersected with 597.  As I stopped because of the sign, I locked the 
doors of my truck and I looked left and right on the shoulder of the 
road and made sure no one was there.  There was no one.  I always 
thought about some crazy killer jumping in my truck at a stop sign in 
the night.  It was just some weird feeling I had.  I only made a quick 
stop.  Then I kept on driving.  But I still had that strange feeling.  
I became very uncomfortable.  Then I heard a knocking sound.  I 
listened closely for the sound, but I couldn't find the source of the 
knocking.  It became louder and faster.  I tried to ignore the sound, 
so I just continued looking straight through 597. But I couldn't ignore 
it any longer.  It was getting to me.  I didn't know where it was 
coming from.  I slowed down for awhile to concentrate on the sound's 
source.  I heard the sound more from my left ear then my right ear.  I 
looked beside me.  My eyes widened, as I became shocked at what I saw.  
The sound was coming from the glowing finger of a ghost phantom 
knocking on my window.  I looked at the glowing finger and my eyes came 
quickly face to face with its glowing ghostly face. I became frighten 
as I saw it's disfigured face.  On its right check, it had a chunk of 
flesh torn out and the tip of the nose was not there.  The phantom was 
crying and the tear-dropped eyes on its face were ringed with black, as 
if someone punched it.  I knew it was a female because the sound of the 
weeping.  I felt goose bumps over my body and the hairs on my arms and 
back of my head stuck up.  The long hair it had, moved in the air like 
snakes swimming in the water as it flew beside me.  Its mouth started 
moving, and I heard it say my name. 

“Donavon—,” it said in a high pitch tone, but I didn't want to hear the
rest of it, so I pressed the gas pedal to go faster.  I looked at the 
speedometer and notice I was already hitting 75.  As I moved faster, 
the phantom moved with me.  I was now hitting 90, and phantom was still 
beside me.  I couldn't lose it.  I heard the knocking on the driver's 
door, beside me.  I wanted to ignore it, but I felt like it was the 
only sound in the world.  Once in awhile, as I drove with speed, I'd 
look beside me and I saw the phantom still looking at me with it's 
mouth moving trying to tell me something as it now knocked on my 
window.  I wanted to get off of 597.   I was getting so scared that I 
was swirling side to side when I was driving.  And the phantom kept 
knocking on my window. 

I looked at the speedometer and I was hitting 100.  The knocking stopped
and I looked beside me to see if the phantom was still by my window.  
It wasn't.  I felt relieved.  But it didn't slow down my speed.  I 
wanted to get home. 

I finally reached my house.  As I drove into the driveway, I observed
all around the truck, making sure the phantom wasn't there, especially 
the driver's window.  It wasn't there.  As I opened the driver's door, 
I made sure nothing was behind it.  There wasn't anything. I stepped 
out of the truck, slowly, prepared for anything.  All of a sudden, I 
heard a terrible scream.  It was very loud and my ears couldn't stand 
the sound.  I saw the cracking of the rearview window on the driver's 
door.  Then the scream turned into a terrifying shriek.  The shriek was 
of horror and it sounded like an out of tone violin.  I placed my hands 
over ears to avoid the sound, but I still heard it.  It reminded me of 
someone being tortured.  Then the shrieking turned into someone 
weeping.  I looked up in front of me and I saw where the weeping was 
coming from.  It was the phantom.  It was floating in front of me.  The 
driver's door was between the phantom and me.  The windows were still 
raised, but I was face to face with the phantom.  Even with the 
disfiguration I knew the face from some where.  But I couldn't remember 
where.  It continued crying and screaming of torture shrieks.  Then it 
became quiet and just stared at me.  I tried to run, but my feet would 
not move. 

I didn't want to.  I was scared.  What did it want from me?  But I had
to get a hold of myself.  I did and I finally moved.  I jumped back 
into the truck and I closed the door.  The phantom flew up.  I turned 
the ignition in the truck, but the truck wouldn't start.  I looked for 
the phantom, but I couldn't see her.  I tried turning the ignition 
again for the last time and the truck still did not start.  I pushed my 
head forward and lightly tapped my forehead on the steering wheel.  
Maybe the phantom was gone, I thought to myself.  But, then I heard the 
weeping again.  I didn't want to raise my head.  I felt the crying 
coming from the front of me.  I knew that if I raised my head, I would 
be face to face with the phantom.  But I did it anyway.  And the 
phantom was there.  The phantom flew towards me.  She went through the 
windshield and through me.  I sighed when she flew through me, waiting 
for my body to hurt.  I thought ghosts and phantoms were there to hurt 
you, but she didn't.  As she went through my body, she gave me a 
feeling of coldness, like it was wintertime, but only for a second.  I 
also heard the phantom whisper, “Donavon, please, help me.”  I felt 
relieved for awhile because she didn't harm me, but I knew she would be 
back.  And if she wasn't there to hurt me, then what was she there for. 


The phantom did come back.  She stopped in front of the windshield and
just stood there floating, weeping, and whispering “Donavon, please, 
help me”, with her hands outward.  The phantom wept a few more tears, 
whispered one last time, “Help me”, and then she vanished.  As she did, 
I then remembered the face of the phantom. Even through its injured 
face, I recognized her. She was Miss Knox.  She was August's neighbor.  
I picked up the cellular phone and called August because I wanted to 
tell her about the incident that just happened.  I dialed her number, 
and she answered. 

“What are you doing calling this late?” she asked sarcastically. 

“Nothing baby.  I just wanted to see if you were alright,” I said. 

“I fine.  Why---,” and then the phone went dead. 

“August.  August,” I repeated, but no one answered.  I thought that
maybe I was calling from a bad location, so I hung up the phone and 
redialed the number.  This time an automatic voice operator came up.  
It said the phone has been disconnected or was no longer in service.  I 
wondered what was wrong.  So, I decided to go to August's house and 
tell her the experience I had.  At the same time I had an urge that I 
should call the police for Miss Knox.  I just had a bad feeling about 
her.  Besides, the ghost did say to help her.  So I called the police.  
I made up a lie and told them that I saw a suspicious character on the 
corner house of Ave. H and 1st street.  They said they were on their 
way.  I turned on the ignition on my truck and this time it started.  
Then I drove to August's house. 

When I arrived, I felt relieved to see that the police officers were
already at Miss Knox's house.  My feeling and the experience I had 
could have been wrong, but I would need to see that myself.  I parked 
the truck and got off and walked to August's house.  Her porch light 
was on and the door was opened.  Maybe I was right about Miss Knox but 
I wish I wasn't. 

As I walked toward August's house, I heard someone crying.  I recognized
the weeping from before.  It was from the phantom.  Was Miss Knox dead? 
 I turned around to see where the crying was coming from.  It was Miss 
Knox and she was alive.  She was walking out of her house with an 
officer escorting her.  She looked pretty bad.  Her eyes had rings of 
black around them and she had a cut on her right cheek. She walked 
toward me. 

“Thank you, Donavan,” she said as she smiled at me and gave me a hug.  I
nodded my head and smiled at her as a ‘you're welcome' gesture.  Then 
her smile turned into a frown.  She grabbed my hand and burst into 
tears.  “I'm so sorry,” she said.  I just looked at her with curiosity. 
I didn't know what she meant by that? 

Then, right behind Miss Knox, were more officers and they were holding
someone in handcuffs.  It was male, about 6'0 feet, and he had long 
brown hair.  He had a beard and he looked around his early forty's.  He 
terrified me with the look on his face.  He was smiling, but with a 
destructive smile.  Then he stared at me. 

“I've seen you before,” he said as he pointed at me and he started
laughing.  I never met him in my entire life.  But what scared me the 
most was the way he laughed.  It was devilish.  I turned around and 
continued toward August's front door.  All of a sudden an officer 
rushed out of the front door and stopped me. 

“Can I help you sir?” he asked. 

“I came to see my girlfriend.  I'm the one that reported the suspicious
character fifteen minutes ago for next door,” I said. 

“Oh,” he said. 

“I want to see August,” I said. 

“Well, uh, you can't right now, sir.”  I didn't like the sound of his
voice.  He talked with a voice of unsureness.  As if something was 
wrong. 

“Where's August?” I asked. 

“Sir—,” but I cut him off, bumped shoulders with him, and ran into
August's house. 

As I entered August's house, I heard the officer say behind me, “Sir
don't go in there.”  But it was too late.  I didn't listen and I should 
have.  I was not prepared for what I saw.  My heart felt crushed, my 
soul felt taken, and my life felt dead.  There laid the lifeless body 
of August in her living room.  The love of my life was gone.  She laid 
there with her throat slit and her face and arms beaten.  Her nightgown 
was up to her waist as if she was raped.  And on her right hand, she 
held a picture of her and me.  I yelled and I cried out loud.  There 
was a trail of blood from the phone by the front door, to the living 
room where she laid.  I fell on my knees and yelled out loud, “No.”  I 
made my hands in a fist and brought them up in front of me and cried 
“Why?” hoping that maybe God or someone would answer me.  I felt like I 
no longer had a reason to live.  So many dreams I had with her were now 
gone.  The love of my life, was no longer part of my life. 


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