A massive freight truck barrels down the desolate road, its headlights slicing through thick, swirling mist. Road signs flicker in and out of existence, their shapes blurred and fleeting as the vehicle surges on. From a low angle, the camera captures rain pelting the lens, distorting the view with each drop. In the cab, the hum of the engine is punctuated by distant rumbles of thunder and the mournful howl of the wind.
The camera slowly pushes in towards the driver’s haunted gaze, the dashboard clock ticking relentlessly in the silence. His breathing is heavy, each inhale and exhale betraying mounting anxiety. The only comfort he finds is in the bitter taste of his coffee, though even that trembles with uncertainty in its holder. Shadows curl at the edges of the cabin, threatening to encroach on the fragile bubble of light.
Suddenly, the truck’s radio crackles, red LEDs blinking erratically as static morphs into low, unintelligible whispers. The driver’s hand hovers in hesitation, a bead of sweat snaking down his temple. The voice is warped, echoing through the small space: "…don’t stop… don’t look back…" The driver shudders, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, as the highway seems to stretch endlessly ahead.
Through the windshield, a figure materializes in the center of the road, impossibly still and looming. The world holds its breath as the engine falls silent, and the only sound is the sharp screech of brakes. The driver’s heart pounds, every muscle locked, as he watches the apparition without daring to blink. For a moment, time freezes; the fog thickens, pressing in on all sides.
There is a sudden, jarring thud as the undercarriage passes where the figure stood, yet nothing remains. The camera jumps from beneath the truck back to the windshield, revealing only empty highway ahead. Eerie quiet settles, broken only by the faint echo of the impact. The driver’s breath quickens, a silent plea for explanation hanging in the charged air.
With trembling hands, the driver scans the mirrors, his eyes darting for anything out of place. In the shallow focus of the side mirror, muddy handprints begin to appear, slow and deliberate, smearing the glass. The sound of his own heartbeat grows louder, drowning out all rational thought. Panic flickers in his eyes as he realizes he is not alone.
The truck rolls onward, its rear lights glowing like distant embers in the suffocating haze. From a wide angle, the cargo container shakes as something inside presses against the walls, distorting the metal with faint scratching and ominous creaks. The driver glances in the rearview; his face is a mask of terror, reflecting the unnatural movement behind him.
A sudden whip-pan reveals the passenger seat—where a drenched, pallid figure sits, contorted into a grotesque grin. The atmosphere thickens, every surface slick with dread. The figure leans close, whispering directly into the driver’s ear: "You didn’t stop…" The driver recoils, eyes wide, as the temperature seems to drop precipitously.
The vehicle careens violently, dashboard lights strobing in frantic bursts. The windshield splinters as shadows crash through, enveloping every corner of the cabin in suffocating blackness. The alarms blare, mingling with distorted screams and the roaring engine. The truck fishtails, teetering on the edge between reality and nightmare.
Day breaks over the empty highway, fog dissipating to reveal a stark, silent scene. Police officers gather around the deserted truck, their faces grim as they peer inside the cab. Nothing remains—only muddy handprints smeared across the steering wheel, a silent testament to the night’s terror. The camera slowly pulls back, the wind whispering through the emptiness before all fades to silence.
