I have been driving a cab for years, but nothing prepared me for that night. I picked up a guy from the outskirts of town, and he gave me an address that didn’t quite exist. He barely spoke, just nodded when I asked if the AC was fine. Halfway through the ride, I looked in the rearview mirror—and he was gone. Just gone.

I pulled over, heart racing, and turned to check the backseat. Nothing. No sign of the door opening, no sound, no trace of him. The only thing left was an old newspaper clipping on the seat. It had a picture of a man—my passenger. The headline? “Local Man Found Dead in 1998.”

I floored it out of there. I don’t drive that route anymore.