This piece of prose fiction had been written around September-October of 2013. In my Creative Writing classes we had watched, read and listened to several scary urban legends. The task was to re-write and develop one of the urban stories, which counted around 150-250 words to 1000 words. I had several to choose from, and eventually picked this one.
This was the time when I was still green in terms of professional writing or writing in general (or a hobby). I'd appreciate some feedback. Several words and phrases were changed before posting this, but still, I am sure there's plenty to improve.
SOMEONE IN THE BACK SEAT
Once upon a time, a young woman was invited to a usual, every Friday night party, organized by her friends. She didn’t drink much, contrarily she drank only little amount of Tequilla mixed with coke, hence she knew, she had to return back home to her husband and her kids. She left the bar fairly late at night, and sauntered towards her car.
It was an oak brown Chevrolet Caprice wagon from 1988 with stereotypical wooden inserts on its outer sides. Typical and vastly popular car that almost every family in early 90s used to own. She opened the door gently, and got into her estate car.
She glanced upon the rear-view mirror to examine her facial appearance. She was a pleasantly looking female with dark, loosely fluttering hair. Her big, sexually appealing eyes looked like amber from the sea. She wore a navy colored coat with sandy brown collars inserts. Below, she had his favourite pants on her that perfectly fitted with sandy inserts on the coat. She couldn’t look older than thirty years old.
She opened the car compartment and stored her little handbag inside. She closed it afterwards, and was ready to jive. She switched the key ignition, turned the front lights and radio on. She put on the back gear, and slowly retreated back until she was ready to drive away from the parking lot. She turned the gear, and got onto the route back home.
She was driving down the deserted highway. After few minutes of her journey, the weather started changing. One of the car windows didn’t shut ideally, so the air passing through tiny chink caused unpleasant whistling. This had caused slight dread inside her. She’s been passing throughout the local forest. As she’s been driving forward, trees were getting narrow as they created some kind of vault above. They appeared to mirror an image from a typical thriller. The sky darkened even more, and began to rain. Storm from Northern East was on its way.
She turned on the wipers on, when she perceived first droplets on the windscreen. She started to feel more frightened, due to scary noises coming from the forest. All of sudden, the radio station changed to different. The music she was listening to interrupted a radio bulletin announcing that lunatic mental patient had escaped from the secure wing of local penitentiary unit. She also heard that he murdered his wife and two children with a cleaver.
She didn’t get the rest of the message, thus the signal was lost. Her car drove over something, and jumped slightly. She thought that it was some pothole on the road, so she stepped out of the vehicle to search briefly for any scratches or things alike. She sauntered towards the rear of the car, and this what she spotted froze the blood in her vines.
She noticed a German Shepard, fully covered in blood. Dog was still barely breathing, while his eyes were starring at the woman. She wandered her look further at the dog, and spotted a bloody, steel cleaver stuck in his body, in position where the humps were. Droplets of rain were still hitting her face. Thunder hit was hearable to her, as she rapidly turned around and got into her car and drove off from this area. Unfortunately, she didn’t notice the sign on the dog’s collar that said “Police Department”.
Further in her way, she began to have car problems. It was slowing down from time to time, and she scented a smell of the burning. She decided to pull over next to secluded and tranquil farm complex.
This was an abandoned farm of Ugly Nick, as local folks used to call it. The legend says, that Ugly Nick was a recluse living away from the society. Perhaps, when his wife had died from cancer a decade ago, he became even more lonesome, and never seen to public. He hasn’t got any siblings, nor any descendants.
The whole area appeared to be very odd, and strange for a random sightseer, even if it was a hitchhiker. The old, wooden barn had visible signs from scratching and recent fire that has been lit by local teenage settlers to nuisance farmer’s life. The stony sty, with a hole ripped in the roof. Few chicken coops with doors that had hinges not oiled properly, and all the time they’ve been opened, the screeching noise been heard. However, the main source of this scary noise was coming from the rocking chair that was placed next to the house’s doors, on the porch. Leafless trees located around, described this place as one of the stereotypical districts from horror movies. Their spreading branches made her heart beat stronger and stronger. The thick fog covering whole lawn was terrifying.
All of sudden, she heard the penetrating noise of unoiled hinges and doors starting to open. Inn the threshold stood nobody else but Ugly Nick himself. He wasn’t older than forty years old, but he seemed very aged at his age. He had a large and visible scar on his left cheek, starting right from his temple, which ends next to his mouth. His face had lots of spots, pimples, wrinkles and large amount of dirt on it. He was a tall guy, around 6ft 5”. He had worn a navy flannel shirt, but one of its sleeves looked as if it was torn off. His gray dungarees was all soaked and wet, as well as the upper part of his body. He made first step, and she saw massive brown military boots stepping into the mood.
She was still inside the car, when the Ugly Nick closed to her. She extended her hand towards the grip used for rolling windows down to do such action. Abruptly, the farmer grasped by the car’s door handle in attempt to open it, and began to stutter severely. He was pointing at her dangerously. He dropped the torch on the floor, so the light illuminated his face from beyond and all the incorrectness on his face was clearly visible.
She, being incredible scared and terrified of the Ugly Nick’s actions and stutter, switched the engine on and escaped from the farm as soon as she could. As she did so, he finally spoke his words he’d been trying to say: “THERE’S SOMEONE IN THE BACKSEAT!”