Nora breathed a sigh of relief, spotting a taxi as she walked out of the airport. Despite landing in the early hours of the evening, she had been asked to stay back for a few hours for a case of misplaced luggage.

She hadn’t expected to see a taxi waiting in the dead of the night.

Thinking the airport staff had organized this ride for her, she approached the cab, peering inside. A rather young, handsome-looking man looked back at her from the driver’s seat.

“You need a ride?” he asked. His voice was raspy, as though not used in a long time.

“I do, yes,” giving her address, she slid into the back seat of the car, making herself comfortable.

“They have flights this late?” the driver questioned, eyeing her from the front mirror.

Nora rolled her eyes.

“Flights? No. Inconveniences and rude staff? Probably in excess,”

The driver chuckled. Nora glanced at him. Something about the way he sounded felt odd – as though his voice was coming from far off.

As Nora shuffled in her seat, she absently scrolled through her phone. A local news article caught her eye—“Remembering the Tragic Taxi Crash That Claimed a Life Three Years Ago.” Yawning, she dismissed it, not giving it much thought.

The driver turned the key, and the engine roared to life.

As they drove through the quiet streets, Nora shifted uneasily. The cab had a strange, musty scent, like old leather and damp air. She glanced at the dashboard. The taxi meter wasn’t running.

“You from around here?” the driver asked suddenly.

Nora hesitated, unsure of what to say. “Not really. I used to live here a while back. Moved away for work.”

“Ah. Lot’s changed in three years,” he murmured, eyeing her from the front mirror.

Nora bit her lip.

As they passed under a bright streetlight, she froze. She had glanced into the rearview mirror. There was only one reflection – hers.

The driver’s seat was empty.

Nora blinked.

Had she imagined it?

The driver was in his seat, humming softly.

She rubbed her eyes. She’d had a long day and was exhausted. Fatigue was most likely playing with her.

“All okay?” the driver asked, noticing her troubled expression.

Nora nodded.

Noticing her surrounding, she suddenly sat up straight. They were driving through a cemetery.

“We’re on the wrong road,” she gasped.

The streetlights flickered, as if trying to pass on a warning.

“It’s the only way home,” the driver responded, calmly.

“This road was shut off three years back as a result of a terrible accident. The surrounding area was all taken away and turned into a private cemetery!” Nora looked at the driver through the mirror.

His silent, expressionless eyes seemed to burn through her soul.

“Was it, now?” He questioned with a puzzled but sarcastic expression.

Nora gulped.

The car put on speed and the driver turned around to face Nora. Seeing the driver’s face clearly for the first time, she gasped.

Nora felt as though an icy hand was squeezing her heart.

The driver’s face had a deep scar that ran across his face. Nora recognized this face immediately. How could she not? She had seen it countless times on the news, in documents inside her office drawers and in editorial meetings.

Panic raced through her mind as her heart pounded in her ears.

“You know, they never found my body,” The driver said softly, as though responding to her thoughts, “No case. No justice for me. Funny how the dead are no longer a priority, isn’t it?”
Nora’s heart skipped a beat. Her phone screen flashed, displaying the same article on repeat. The icy hand around her heart tightened its grip as she recalled the full story. She had been tasked with further investigations on the accident. Due to the large pile of work, she had dismissed the case, claiming to have no sufficient evidence of foul play.

Fearing the worst, she slowly looked up. The seat in front of her was empty.

The driver had vanished.

Nora frantically tried opening the door as the car picked up speed. Her brow was wet with perspiration, her breath coming in uneven bursts.

A cold breeze played across her neck as she heard a whisper in her ear.

“Don’t worry. They’ll find my body this time. I’ll take care of it – and the investigations too,”

Nora shrieked as the car skidded to a stop.

Panting, she glanced outside the window. The car had stopped dangerously close to a tombstone.

Nora’s breath hitched as she read the name on the tombstone – hers.

The letters glittered eerily in the moonlight.

Nora Evans.

“No, no. This isn’t real,” Nora repeated to herself.

A light chuckle sounded in her ear – the driver’s voice.

“Welcome home,”