Route 666


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A short horror story

I was getting that weird feeling in my hands again, that feeling that you would get after sitting on your hands for hours. I thought about pulling over and taking a break, but something about the long desert road made me want to continue.

I’ve seem to have forgotten what it’s like to feel thirsty or hungry. I’ve also come to realize that my gas tank never goes on empty, the worry to make it to a gas station before that little light goes on never crosses my mind anymore. 

I find little things to entertain myself, like scratching at the fabric of my seat or fiddling with the window opener switch, even though I am very aware that I cannot open my window or my doors. 

Sometimes I think back to the time where I had hope to escape, those little feelings of sheer positive thinking that I will somehow find a way out of this. That’s when the dark thoughts started to wander into my head, i’ve tried to kill myself on several occasions in different ways but it’s unnifectual. If i were to try and drive off the road in hopes to hit a tree or mountain that’s is lurking in the distance, the road would just follow me, placing itself in front of me. I’ve tried to break my skull on my window and to impale myself with a pen I had in my glove compartment, but all end in agonizing pain, but no deathly conclusion.

I generally find myself speaking aloud, trying to piece together what got me here. Every fucking second spent in this endless loop seems to have a misguiding meaning but i have yet to find it. 

I watch the timer tick by on my dash board that first appeared when i took the exit. It’s counts upwards so I have nothing to look forward too. I watch as it hits its 26280th hour. Can’t believe i’ve only been here for 3 years

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Chapter 1


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