The Last Ride On New Year's Night Horror Story

December 31st night was colder and scarier than usual. The whole city was busy celebrating the New Year. Fireworks could be heard from far away.

But outside the city, everything was silent.

Taxi driver Ethan looked nervously at his watch. It was 11:45 PM.

“That’s enough work for today,” he murmured. “I should go home now. My family must be waiting.”

He turned his taxi toward home. Just then, his phone screen lit up—a new ride request.

Ethan moved his finger to cancel it, but suddenly noticed the fare. It was three times higher than usual. A large amount flashed on the screen.

Ethan hesitated. On one side was his family. On the other side was extra money for the New Year.

“Just one last ride,” he told himself. “Then straight home.” He tapped Accept.

The pickup location was outside the city, near an old river bridge. Even during the day, the place was deserted. At night, it felt completely lifeless.

As Ethan drove closer, thick fog covered the road. His heart began to pound. Under a dim streetlight on the bridge, he saw a girl.

She stood near the railing, beside a large black suitcase.

“Why would someone stand here so late at night with such a heavy bag?” Ethan wondered nervously.

The girl looked sweaty and scared. Fear was clearly visible in her eyes. Ethan pushed his doubts aside and stopped the car.

“Ma’am… did you book the taxi?” he asked carefully.

The girl looked at him as if waking from a dream. Without speaking, she pointed at the suitcase.

Ethan stepped out and opened the trunk. The girl tried to lift the suitcase, but it didn’t move even an inch. It felt unbelievably heavy.

“I’ll do it,” Ethan said politely.

As soon as he grabbed the handle, he felt a strange shock. The suitcase was far heavier than normal.

“What’s inside this bag?” Ethan joked nervously. “Stones or something?”

The girl said nothing. She stared at the suitcase silently.

Ethan somehow pushed it into the trunk and slammed it shut. “Please sit,” he said quickly.

The girl sat in the back seat and locked the door. Ethan noticed in the rear-view mirror—she kept staring at the trunk.

The taxi moved toward the city. Light rain started falling, making the night even darker. The silence inside the car felt heavy.

“Ma’am,” Ethan asked hesitantly, “everything okay?”

She replied coldly, “I went to meet an old friend. Or you can say… to settle a score.”

“A score?” Ethan asked nervously.

“Yes,” she said.

After a pause, she continued, “I loved a man deeply. He promised we would run away and marry—on New Year’s night.”

“Tonight?” Ethan asked.

“No,” she replied. “Last year. Same night. Same time.”

Ethan felt uneasy.

“He called me to this same bridge,” she said. “His friends were there too. They drank, laughed, and left.”

Her voice grew rough. “When I was alone with him, he tried to force himself on me.”

Ethan swallowed hard.

“That’s when I realized,” she said, “he never loved me. He only wanted my body and money.”

Ethan asked softly, “So… what did you do?”

She slowly turned her face toward the mirror and looked directly into his eyes. “I killed him.”

Ethan’s hands almost slipped off the steering wheel. He pressed the brakes, but the car didn’t stop.

“You… killed him?” he stammered.

Her face began to change.

“You thought I was weak?” she said. “A helpless woman?”

Then she added calmly, “And you… what were you thinking earlier? Lonely road. A single girl.”

Ethan broke into cold sweat.

“No! I swear I wasn’t thinking that!”

She suddenly laughed loudly. “Relax,” she said. “It was just a joke.”

Ethan finally breathed in relief. Soon, an old gate appeared ahead.

“Galaxy Apartments,” Ethan said quickly. “We’ve arrived.”

The girl stepped out and opened the trunk. Her voice turned helpless.

“The suitcase is very heavy,” she said. “My roommate isn’t answering. Can you help me carry it to the third floor?”

Ethan wanted to refuse, but nodded to finish the ride quickly. He lifted the suitcase. A foul smell came from it.

“It feels like a human body,” he said without thinking.

She looked at him strangely. “Can I use your phone?” she asked. “My phone is dead.”

After hesitating, Ethan gave it to her. She walked aside, made a call, then returned the phone.

“Thank you,” she said.

They reached the third floor. “Leave it here,” she said.

Suddenly, fast footsteps echoed. A police inspector and two officers rushed up.

Ethan raised his hands in fear.

The inspector ignored him and knocked on the door. A young man opened it. His face turned pale.

One officer opened the suitcase. Ethan looked inside—and froze.

Inside was the dead body of the same girl who had been sitting in his taxi. Her skin was blue. Her eyes were open. Dark marks covered her neck.

Ethan turned around. She was gone.

The inspector said, “Thank you. The call from your phone saved us time. This serial killer has murdered four girls.”

Ethan realized the truth. She had called the police using his phone to recover her own body.

The police left with the killer.

Ethan sat back in his taxi, shaking.

As he started the car, he glanced at the mirror. The back seat was empty.

Then a soft whisper echoed:

“Thank you for the ride, Ethan… Won’t you take my fare?”

A silent laugh filled the night.

Ethan pressed the accelerator and disappeared into the darkness.