The Midnight Passenger

It was a rainy night in October 2018 when Rajiv, a 32-year-old cab driver in Chennai, picked up a late-night passenger near the highway. The man, dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, looked tired and pale. He gave Rajiv an address in Anna Nagar and sat silently in the back seat.

Rajiv tried to make small talk, but the passenger remained quiet. He simply stared out of the window as the rain poured down, his expression blank. Something about him felt... off.

As they drove, Rajiv glanced at the rearview mirror and noticed the man's hands trembling. His breathing was shallow, almost forced. Concerned, Rajiv asked, "Are you okay, sir?"

The man slowly turned his head and whispered, "Just keep driving."

A strange chill ran down Rajiv’s spine. He had driven hundreds of passengers before, but something about this man filled him with unease. The silence in the cab grew heavier, broken only by the rhythmic sound of the wipers.

About fifteen minutes into the ride, they reached a poorly lit stretch of road. Rajiv checked the mirror again.

The back seat was empty.

His heart pounded. He slammed the brakes and turned around, expecting to see the man crouched on the floor or trying to open the door. But there was no one there.

Panic surged through him. He quickly checked the trip details on his phone. The booking was still active. The name displayed was Aravind Kumar. He tried calling the number attached to the booking, but a robotic voice informed him:

"The number you are trying to reach does not exist."

Rajiv’s hands trembled. He turned back to the road, debating whether to continue or cancel the ride. Then, his phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number:

"Don't stop. Keep driving."

Rajiv's breath caught in his throat. Who was texting him? Who had booked the ride? And where had the passenger gone?

The rest of the story unfolds in Part 2...