She had heard the rumors about Walney Road. It is, after all, well-known by the locals, not only for its high incidence of fatal car accidents, but because it is thought to be haunted. The story goes that on particular evenings, at a certain time of night, a hitchhiker can be seen along this lonely stretch of road. Drivers are advised to stop and offer to pick him up if they see him. If they choose to pass him by, he will appear again, later down the road. If he appears a third time without being picked up, he will not be outside the car on the side of the road, but rather sitting in the passenger seat. Inevitably, the frightened driver will wreck, and the ghostly hitchhiker will have succeeded in his deadly task.She was, however, not there to get caught up in silly ghost stories. She was there on a mission: to document the history of this picturesque park in photos. Still, she could not shake her feelings of unease as dusk began to settle on the quiet buildings at the Visitor's Center, just off Walney.
She reminded herself to focus on the task at hand and to not allow herself to be spooked. But...were those footsteps she just heard behind her? She scrambled quickly up the stairs, wondering how many feet had tread upon them before her. This place was sure rich with history, and perhaps with something more...ominous...as well.
Looming before her at the top of the staircase was the abandoned smokehouse. Clearing her head, she snapped a few photos, pleased with how they seemed to be turning out in her preview screen. With some trepidation, she got closer to photograph the inside of the house, bracing herself for a possible scare. Night was, after all, descending rapidly upon her.
First glance inside the smokehouse had her breathing easy again. There was nothing out of the ordinary here. She was letting her imagination get the best of her. Exhaling slowly, she photographed the fire pit, the stacks of firewood, and then...her eyes wandered to the rafters. Surely those ropes were for the sides of meat that would hang there to be smoked, and not for...
She shook her head and spun around, feeling the panic rising in her chest as the darkness began to fully envelop her. Clear as day, she saw the figure then and screamed!
It was a scarecrow! She giggled nervously, forcing herself to breathe calmly and to settle down. This was ridiculous! Why was she letting this place affect her? Of course there would be a scarecrow in the garden to protect the vegetables; it had just surprised her, and that was all. But she had not remembered seeing that little hut in the woods before...no, no...she was quite sure of that. It had not been behind her when she began taking photographs of the smokehouse, and yet, here it was. Who would build something like that way out here?
She had the distinct impression then that the scenery around her was changing, trapping her somehow. Forget the photos; she needed to get out of here! She scrambled past the hut, willing her eyes away from its dark entrance and telling herself she saw nothing within it. Why had she ever thought that the lighting at dusk would be better for the photo-shoot? Her sense of urgency grew with each passing step; if she could only make it to the parking area to her car, she would be safe! Hadn't it been right up here, on the left? Yes, she was sure it had been. Where was it? She lost her footing and in the fading light cast her terrified eyes upon a makeshift altar.
This was the final straw! She would ask no more questions about what - or who - might come to rest upon this pile of sticks! She broke into a full run now, barely able to see the path at her feet. Her instinct to escape burned like a coal in her chest, spurring her on to where she thought she had left her car. The forest itself seemed to be closing in around her, blocking her way out!
At last! A clearing! But wait...this was not the parking lot, either. What was this place? It appeared to be...oh, no...it could not be...through the wrickety wrought iron fence she could just make out the tombstones.
Right at that moment, headlights from a car appeared out of nowhere, illuminating the graveyard. She was saved! She clawed her way through the tangle of tree limbs, toward the car on Walney Road. She would flag down the driver and ask to be taken to the parking lot...to anywhere but here! Sweet relief was just a whisper away! She began to call for help, her whole body begging the driver to hear her plea. Then, she stopped cold, silent.Outlined in the glow of the headlights was the figure of a hitchhiker.
