John gripped the steering wheel, fatigue weighing heavily on his eyelids. The road ahead seemed to stretch into oblivion, but he had no choice but to follow the detour. His fuel gauge hovered dangerously close to empty, adding to the anxiety gnawing at his mind.
John pulled over, the gravel crunching beneath his tires. He hesitated for a moment, then stepped out into the cool night air. The elderly couple waved, their smiles inviting yet unsettling. The Old Man, with a kindly face and a gentle voice, spoke first.
"Lost, are you?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with a mysterious light.
"Just looking for a gas station," John replied, keeping his distance.
The Old Woman, her voice like the rustle of autumn leaves, insisted, "Come in for a moment. You must be tired."
John shook his head, stepping back towards his car. "Thank you, but I really need to get going," he insisted, feeling an urgent need to leave. The couple's insistence seemed to grow, their smiles too wide, their eyes too bright.
As John filled his tank, he mentioned the house to the Attendant. The color drained from his face, fear etched in every line. "You saw them?" the Attendant whispered, his voice trembling.
"That couple's been dead for years. Poisoned in that very house. Their son was... troubled. Locked away in an institution," he continued, eyes wide with terror.
John glanced in his rearview mirror, the house now a distant memory. Relief mingled with fear, knowing that he had been inches from the unknown. The night's darkness seemed less oppressive now, a reminder of the thin line between reality and the supernatural.
John couldn't shake the feeling that he had been given a second chance. The road ahead was clear, the path illuminated by the rising sun. He vowed to trust his instincts, grateful for the journey that had brought him safely through the night.
