Stay On The Highway

I was helping a friend move from Wisconsin to Seattle a few summers back. I was driving one car full of stuff, he and our other buddy were driving another car for this particular leg of the trip. At one point, we stopped off for food and took a nap, and in getting back on the road, my friend insisted that the way to go was to take a road called “200” instead of the main highway. I knew this was wrong, but he was stubborn. 
This particular night, we decided we weren’t tired and we were going to start driving since it was already 4 am and we had just napped. About 70 miles into the Montana 200, I had my windows down, and I kept feeling like I was hearing something over the music I had playing. I turned it down, wondering if it was some noise coming from my friends car in front of me. With the music now off, I listen intently out the window. The road was a 2 lane road, so I could see anyone coming towards us, and would surely see anyone coming up from behind, which was unlikely as we were going about 90 mph. Unless their lights were off and they were doing 110+, I would’ve seen them. 

I say this because a few seconds into listening out the window, I hear laughing. It wasn’t one person either, it was like a group of children. This laughter got louder and louder, like it was approaching me, until it sounded like it was right outside my window. At that moment, the laughing stopped, and of course, the car started sputtering. 

I frantically searched for the walkie talkie I had to communicate with the other car to get in touch with them before they were out of range. Luckily I got connected to them, and it turned out their car was stalled too. They were about 150 yards ahead of me by the time I stopped. I stayed in the car, unable to roll the windows up due to the electricity in the car not functioning. I was silently praying to whatever God there was to not die that night. 

My friends were freaked out by something too, but weren’t description what had spooked them. They told me to come to their car, but I reasoned that I was alone, and they were stronger in a pair in case something was out there. They began walking towards me. About 10 seconds later, I hear a single child’s laughter coming from directly across the street in the woods. At that moment, the car started getting unbearably hot. It must have been 100+ degrees in the car by the time I decided I couldn’t take it. Even with the cool air outside, it was like I was sitting in an oven. I got out, sweating. 

The laughter grew louder. Not like it was closer, but like the child was laughing even harder now. Soon after, another laughter joined. Then another. Before I realized what was going on, I noticed my friends weren’t any closer. I radioed them and they said they were going to work on their car then drive back to me, and to just wait in the car. I frantically asked them if they were hearing what I was hearing and they said they weren’t, even when I held the walkie up to the direction the laughter was coming from. 

In almost an instant, a thin fog swept over the road. The laughter was now a group once again, only there was another tone. A sinister tone. A horrifying, guttural laugh, one that was meant to scare somebody. I said “fuck it” and began sprinting to my friends car. I was about 5 yards in when from my right, the opposite side of where the laughter was, I distinctly heard a voice say “nope”, and before I knew it, I tripped over a piece of metal pipe that I know wasn’t there before I tripped over it, if that makes sense. 

I fell flat on on face and rolled over. I obviously attempted to get back up, but it was like the fog was weighing me down. I could hardly lift my hands off the ground. There was very tall grass to what was now my left (when I fell, I got turned around). I hadn’t noticed until now, but there no wind. Not even a slight breeze. But the tall grass began moving. The laughter was now coming from that side, but it wasn’t a full laughter yet. It started as a small child’s chuckle. I couldn’t move; I tried screaming but nothing came out. 

I could feel eyes on me, and I could see whatever was in the grass moving through it coming closer to me, and the laughter gradually growing from a giggle into a full hysterical laugh. I somehow knew this was it. The other instances were to scare me, but this was the actual threat now. I saw the grass begin to part, and in the darkness between in the part I saw a pair of bright green eyeballs. It had no eyelids, and it wasn’t blinking. It just stared at me, directly into my eyes. 

As the laughter grew louder and louder, the last thing I saw was four other sets of eyes appear out of nowhere in the darkness, and then everything went black. 

When I came to, I was being loaded into an ambulance. I had third degree burns in the form of a handprint around my left wrist, and scratches on the backs of both my arms, as if I’d been dragged across the gravel on the side of the road. 

My friends told me that they got their car started about 3 minutes after we had last spoken on the walkie talkies and drove back to my car. They couldn’t find me, and after searching the areas between the cars and yelling out for me for about 15 minutes, they drove back towards where we’d just come from, until they got a cell signal and called 911. It took police nearly an hour to get to them, and then another 40 minutes to get back to me. 

Apparently, when they returned, I was next to my car, which was running, laid out like I was in a casket. 

I have no memory of what happened after I blacked out, and I’m not sure I ever *want* to remember. That is the single scariest thing that has ever happened to me. 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: