The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the winding rural road as Jacob pedaled harder, pushing himself home before dark. The open fields and quiet woods surrounding him had always felt like a refuge from the noise of the city. But tonight, something was different. Something felt wrong.
Jacob first noticed it when he glanced down and saw his front tire wobble, just barely, as if it were veering of its own will. He stopped, inspected it—nothing was wrong. It was perfectly fine. Yet as he resumed his ride, the feeling gnawed at him, a faint chill prickling the back of his neck.
As he rounded the next bend, he saw a figure standing at the edge of the road, silhouetted against the twilight. It was another cyclist, motionless and shrouded in the fading light. Jacob slowed, intending to nod or wave, but as he got closer, he realized that the other rider’s face was obscured by the deep shadow of a hood. The figure didn’t move or acknowledge him at all.
“Hey, are you alright?” Jacob called, but there was no response. Just as he was about to ride past, the figure’s head snapped toward him, and Jacob saw eyes glinting—a feral, predatory stare.
Panicked, Jacob turned and pedaled faster than he ever had. He could feel the shadow closing in behind him, gaining with every breath. The road stretched on endlessly, as though he were pedaling in place. His heart pounded, and he dared not look back, fearing what he might see.
As he finally neared the edge of town, he looked over his shoulder. The figure was gone. The road was empty, quiet. But he felt it—somehow, it hadn’t gone anywhere. The figure was still out there, waiting on the edge of his mind. And Jacob knew he’d see it again—somewhere along that same lonely road.