Thump! Lance awoke from his daydream and spun around to look out his back window. Nothing was there, but he was sure he felt something…
His hand instinctively put the car in drive and he returned to the parking space, opened his door and stepped out to investigate. As he walked behind the vehicle, all he saw was the pavement. There was nothing there. Not a bump, not a hole, he had hit nothing, but he was almost sure that something had wrenched him from the space between realities.
Lance sighed with relief and his heart slowed down. He almost thought he had hit someone while he was thinking about Talia.
He stepped back inside his car and put his seatbelt on, but when he checked his rearview mirror he saw someone sitting in his back seat. Lance jumped as far as his seatbelt would let him.
Staring at him through the mirror was a man in a black blazer, studded with spikes on the collar. He wore a black fedora with a leather strap around it, securing three strands of stone, bone and feathers, hanging down below his ear. His face was painted with a skull, masking him, and around his neck was a leather strap hanging bone and metal engraved with weird symbols Lance had never seen before.
“Allo. Watt kin I do fo you?”
Lance felt his throat dry up, and instead of words or a scream, the best he could manage was a raspy, breathy noise. He turned his head, slowly, to look in the back seat, but no one was there.
He turned back around. Closing his eyes, he thought to himself, ‘I’m just tired… It’s been a long day… Things are getting… Stressful… I just need to get home and sleep.’
Lance opened his eyes and peered out the windshield, the man was standing in front of his car, his fedora tilted down covering his eyes. He lifted his head, peering from under the hat and stared with his yellow eyes into the car, straight into Lance’s eyes.
“Watt kin I do fo you?”
“I, I, I, what? I, who are you? What do you want?”
“No. Watt kin I do fo you?”
“I, leave me alone!” shouted Lance as he put the car in reverse and pressed onto the accelerator, sending him into the wall of the garage.
Lance’s face planted into the steering wheel before the airbag deployed. It smelled like fire. He pulled himself up and felt his nose. It was broken. His eyes were blurry and the dust that expounded as the airbag deployed didn’t help matters.
There was something else. He remembered the man, and with renewed vigor, he looked through the windshield but there was no one there. Still, he felt someone watching him.
“Watt kin I do fo you?”
Lance turned to his right. In the passenger seat sat the man, twisting a knife into his fingertip.