Speaker 1: Propessant's Studios presents Hitch a collection of unusual stories. Everyone
has a dark secret, some really dark. When I say
really dark, I mean inhumane. I should have been a
priest for the amount of people who confess their sins
to me. But I can't stand all the complaining or
even people for that matter. Bills have to be paid, unfortunately.
I work for a company called Hitch. It's a ride
sharing business where you hire a driver off of a
nap on your phone. It's kind of like a taxi
for the socially awkward. Well at least that's what it's
supposed to be. I could write a book with how
many outrageous encounters I've had over the years working at Hitch.
I thought about writing one too, but it's hard to
write and drive at the same time. I'm gonna tell
you about my first experience. This one still gets me
from time to time. The writing was a cute blonde
girl mid twenties, about five foot six, drink like a
fish that will catch up with you once you hit thirty.
Trust to me, I know from firsthand experience. She was
one of my regulars. Her name Mandy. I picked her
up from work every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Then dropped
her off at the Whale Tail tavern a few blocks
over on Main Street. It's really refreshing picking her up,
someone that actually has manners and isn't talking my face off.
That is until I picked her up later at bar time.
She's obliterated. Every time when I pick her up, I
can tell she has a little punk rock in her.
She told me about her boss and how she wants
to put super glue on his office phone for when
his wife calls in a rage after finding out how
much of a Piggy really is. That she's waiting for
a dream guy that will treat her right and can
hold a steady job, and that she feels that she's
meant for something different in her life. Something to do
with doodling on cards and selling them. I don't know.
She slurs a lot, sounds like she has daddy issues.
I don't judge, though I sit there not in agreement.
Can't complain. Really, I need the paycheck and she tips
really good, not to mention she's easy on the eyes.
On a Saturday, September twenty second, it was normal as usual.
Mandy was quiet and respectful like she always was then
something about her dog Coco. After the bar I dropped
her off at home. I wait for her to go inside.
That way, she feels safe, and let's face it, she's
good looking, heavily intoxicated. It's a scary world out there nowadays.
She gets in just fine. I go to put the
car in the drive and for some reason, I looked
to my left across the street at a house stark out.
I'm in the neighborhood with no street lights, but I
can clearly see that someone is standing at the window.
I can't quit make out the figure. I don't know
if it's male, female, or even human for that matter.
The curtains huged the figure's entire body. The head seems
abnormally large, no movement whatsoever. Maybe it's a mannequin, or
a shoe rack or something. I'm not sure. It's late
and started to freak myself out. I start driving and
I couldn't help but to take another glimpse and it
was gone. Gave me shivers down my entire body. The
following Thursday, Mandy did to a normal routine, except this
time I waited for the figure in the window. It
wasn't there. Maybe it was a nosy old man or something.
The lawn looked like it was mo two or three
times a week. Maybe I was overthinking. I read somewhere there.
We have a blind spot in each of our eyes,
and our brain tries to fill in the gap the
missing information. So maybe that's what happened. Then it was
late and I was putting ideas into my head. Well
that's what I thought. Friday night was hazy outside. All
my riders were in a bad mood, especially Mandy. It
must have been a full moon. She really grinded my gears.
Not my car, but my patience. She came stumbling into
my car at the Whale Tail Tavern and instantly started
yelling about how I don't know what it's like to
struggle because I'm a man and she's a woman living
in the man's society. I could feel a split second
rage coming over me. My right eye started twitching, and
then my eyebrow. I could literally feel the aggression surging
through the vein of my forehead. I'm just trying to
take care of my kids. Mandy, if you weren't such
an alcoholic mess, you could come up for some fresh
air and do some self healing. Maybe during a yoga class.
I didn't actually say that I thought it, though I
nodded in agreement like I always do. The faster she
shuts up, the better. I felt like peeling out when
I dropped her off, but I still waited for her
to go inside the house. Man, it was soupy out.
That night, I cranked my ac up and noticed that
not the house across the street from Mandy's, but the
one next to it, had that figure in the window.
It had the same exact shape as the one in
the other house. I had to see for myself what
this thing really looks like. I slowly drive next to
the house. It looks like your typical blue collar family
house with a picket fence and a swing set. I
stopped right beside the house. I could see movement in
the upper torso heavy breathing the window fogs up where
the breath hits against the glass pane. It's like this
figure wants me to see it. It wants me to
know that it wants me to see it, like it
finds joy in it, I could tell by the growing
crooked grin on its enlarged head. Then boom off into
the house. What do I even do in that situation.
It's not like it's against the law for anyone to
stare at you. There's no evidence of any act of crime.
I'd call and say there's suspicious activity. Even if the
police came by, they probably wouldn't see anything. Saturday, I
picked Mandy up from work, let out a big side
before she came in. She sat down and acted how
she usually does. Then a minute later she burst into tears.
She was very apologetic and seems sincere, and guess she's
all right. Typically she went to the whale Tail tavern
because well, she's an alcoholic. When I picked her up,
she wanted to sit in the front seat, and I
didn't mind. I mean, she's gorgeous, just not my personality type.
She reaped of alcohol, but that didn't stop her from
climbing all over me. I had to drive with one
hand on the wheel and the other hand stiff arming
this chick like a Heisman trophy. She asked me if
I wanted to come in, trust me. I thought about
it like twenty nine times. But if word gets out
on social media and a bad spotlight is shining on it,
yeah I'm canned. I care more about my job. I
told her to lock all the doors in her house
when she gets in. With that thing out there, I
couldn't have her death on my conscious, especially if I
could have done something about it, like seeing her walk
into her house safely and making sure she locks all
her doors. After about five minutes of stumbling on her
dimly lit sidewalk, she managed to crawl up her front steps.
She wasn't able to find her keys. I yelled out
the car window to check her left pocket. She acted
like it was a miracle when she found them. Of course,
she couldn't get the key in the hole. I told
her to turn it upside down. Man, she was hammered
even more than ever. She successfully made it in the house,
stripped open the curtains in the window, gave me a
thumb's up that the doors a locked. She sure knew
how to make me laugh. Then the smile left her
face and terror struck her eyes. I've never seen anyone
have that reaction in my life. It was a look
of sheer horror, like something you would see in war.
She darted off. The fear must have sobered her up.
All the lights shut off, and that figure it just
stood there in the window. This time I can see
clear as day, gray hair sticking up like static chunks
of hair missing, dark gray skin with wrinkles, cuts down
his cheeks, most likely from previous victims. It wasn't wearing
a shirt, saggy breasts, a giant scar straight down the
middle of its torso, and tattered jeans, bright neon green eyes,
and that crooked grin. This time, it's laughing. It almost
can't breathe that it's laughing so hard. I couldn't tell
if it's male or female. I'm frozen, my left hand
squeezing the steering reel, my right hand on the shifter.
I should have known this was going to happen. I
should have called the police. But what I'm looking at
isn't real, not in this world. This is what's in nightmares,
pure evil. No way is that human figure dashed away.
I took a deep breath. I was shaking so bad.
Grabbed my phone to down nine one one. The operator answered,
but all I could do was throw up. They hung up.
Then I drove off. After seeing that figure take over
three houses, I couldn't stand a chance. Besides, I have
a family. I need to stay with them and keep
them safe. I couldn't sleep at all that night. All
I could see was that figure. When I closed my eyes,
I could see it laughing and laughing and laughing. I
never did hear from Mandy after that night. She never
popped up in the news. But every Thursday, Friday, and
Saturday I'd get a notification from the hitch app to
pick up a rider on the same street as Mandy's
house was, on a different house each time from a
man named Alfred Russell. I checked into it. The thing
is Alfred passed away the first day I met Mandy.
Next time you drop someone off or come home late
at night, check your neighbor's windows. Chances are someone or
something might be watching you. Just like Mandy, I wake
up around seven am, like I usually do during the weekdays,
to get up and take the kids to school. As
soon as I drop them off, I turned my hitchap
on for rider notifications. The main thing I love about
working for hitch is I can make my own hours,
which is fantastic with having kids. My phone already starts
going off busy as always. Accept the rider and head
over to the downtown Farmers Market. The whole marketplace was
packed a plethora of nationalities, a variety of foods, all
in all a great atmosphere. She said, to look for
the girl with the pink hair. That shouldn't be too
hard to miss. She was standing by the Lucky Farm
stand with four bags filled to the brim. Each bag
probably weighed as much as her. She's a tiny little thing.
She stood about five foot, thin and full of energy.
She wore a puny shirt that had a broccoli with
sunglasses on it said baroccoli Obama. She also had on
tight leggings and a cardigan sweater. Her smile seemed genuine.
When I pulled up, she asked me if I was
a driver. She hopped in and we were on her
way to a vegan meetup group. I could tell she
was one of those natural deodorant users. She didn't stink
like bad bio, but just had that earthy stench. She
talked about her vegan group that she runs and asked
if I eat meat. I politely said yes. She used
to eat meat, she said, but turns out it causes
more trouble than not. Dropped her off, and before she
closed the door, she leaned in and said Wednesday. My
name is Sam By the way. That sounded good to me.
A new regular. Next Wednesday rolls around and I go
to pick up sam This time she had a shirt
on that said Okrah Winfrey, a gray unzipped hoodie and
black leggings. She was really excited to see me. She
got in, got straight to the point. She wasn't messing around.
We got to talking and she invited me to dinner.
I haven't been on a date for over a year now.
I felt flattered and said yes. This girl had a
charm about her. She's a leader, follows through, looks good,
easy to talk to, so why not go on a date.
It's nothing serious anyway. I dropped her off at the
Veacan meetup group. She did a little dance as she
walked away. Put me in a good mood. Go home
to check on the kids and give the babysitter extra
money for my date. When I went inside, there was
a knock at the door. I opened the door and
there stood three very large muscular men in suits. They
all had shades on and ear pieces in like you
would see in the movies. They asked if I've seen
a Samantha write. I told them I give her a
ride every Wednesday. They wanted to know where she's at now,
though I didn't know her like that, but said, probably
getting ready for a dinner date. Did you ask her
what you're eating? One of them said, I don't know.
All I know is she's vegan. You know she used
to eat meat, right. The guy in the middle said, yeah,
that's what she told me. Do you know what kind
of meat she ate? He asked, okay, I'll play your game.
What kind of meat did she eat? Human? He uttered?
Did I just hear that right? I thought cannibals were
from the eighteen hundreds or tribes in the movies. The
men went on to tell me about Sam her calling
card inviting men and woman over to her house for dinner.
What she doesn't say is you are on the menu.
And the vegan meetup group she hosts, well, they are
her accomplices. The thing is she hosts meetings all over
the Midwest. Dozens of meetings have been busted, but Sam
went into hiding and just recently started her new reign.
They asked me where we're going to meet up to eat.
I don't have an answer. I have no contact information.
The hitch app protects the drivers and riders privacy. I
suppose she was going to call for a ride. This
is why I don't date anymore. I land a date
and abroad wants to eat me. No thanks, I'm good.
Sam never did get a hold of me that night,
nor any nights after that that matter. So the next
time someone invites you to dinner, ask them what's on
the menu. They might just be you. Today. It's October thirteenth.
No it's not a Friday, but it's sunny and fifty
three degrees. Personally, I love it. Most people not so much.
People are bundled up because it was eighty five degrees
two days ago. I just dropped off one of my regulars,
and I'm reading a few blogs about building habits. We
always strive for the end goal, but what if we
just start easy, like putting on running shoes every day
at a certain time, or leaving the phone in another
room so you're not tempted to go on it every
five minutes. It made me want to start my own
blog or podcast. Who knows, maybe I'll do that. I
have a potential audience with all the writers I pick up.
Get a notification from a hitchhap duty calls, I am
to pick up two people from a residence and take
them to Olander Park. It's getting close to the park
isn't closed, but this is the time where teenagers like
to go to a spot that they call Lover's Lane. Well,
at least they don't want me to take them to
Hump Hill. I get to the pick up location in
about twenty minutes. As I suspected, it was two teenagers,
their names Max and Ellie. They got in the car
and had that true love sparkle in their eyes. Jeez,
was I this annoying as a teenager. They talked gossip
about fellow classmates. I instantly tuned them out and thought
about making a podcast I could record. In between riders
in my car, I heard them smacking their lips and
rubbing their faces together. I looked in the rear view
mirror and they're grope at each other. I told them
to look at the sign that said no sex. Ellie
said they're not having sex, and I made it clear
I don't care. I don't want anything that leads to that.
In my car, Max told me to take a chill pill.
Just what I need. Brady, little teens trying to tell
me what to do Max asked me to pull over.
He was nice about it, so I pulled over on
the side of the road. He ended up having to
take a leak. All of her phones went off. Emergency alert.
Escaped patient from Woodland County Hospital psych ward. Patient is
violent and dangerous, also has a hook as a hand
from illegally performing surgery on himself. The patient's name is
Dewey Robinson, aka the hook Man. Citizens are advised to
stay in their homes and lock all the windows and doors.
Ellie begged Max to come back into the car, but
Max didn't answered. She frantically left the car to find him.
Ellie let out a big scream. She found him all right.
Multiple stab wounds and a severed head is what's left
of Max. We took off as quick as we could.
I told her to contact the police. They told her
to drive to the police station. We make our way
over to the station. Ellie sobbing, shaking, scared more than
half to death. I've seen a lot of things working
at HITCH, but I've never seen anything so gruesome in
my life. We arrive at the police station. I tell
Ellie to take a deep breath. She seemed to get
it together enough to go inside. The wind shook the
car and Ellie begged to leave. This is what the
police told us to do. I said she was so
distraught she could probably go into a panic attack. I
peel out and leave in a hurry. She wanted to
go back home. I figured I'll just drop her off
and I'll go to the police station myself. She is
not in the right state of mind to answer questions
about her hacked up boyfriend. We get to her house
and I told her, let me check around and then
I'll let you out. I'll walk around the car to
let her out. Then stopped in tearor that I saw
was unreal. I guess the emergency alert was not a hoax.
Ellie asked me, what's wrong. A bloody hook was lodged
into the door handle. Today's episode on Hitch was written
by Brian do So. Hitch is a fictional podcast. Any
names or likeness that are similar to real world ones
are entirely coincidental.