The Last Threshold

It was half past eleven at night, and I was still on the road. I had been driving since morning, but a major highway accident had forced a detour, sending me down a long, unfamiliar route.

Three hours had passed, and my eyes were heavy with fatigue. I hoped to find a small town or gas station for a cup of coffee. Suddenly, a narrow road appeared on my GPS, veering left. The screen read: “Shortcut – Save 15 miles.”

“Alright, let’s see where this goes,” I muttered, turning the wheel.

The road was strange. Ancient trees lined both sides, their branches intertwining overhead to form a tunnel. Moonlight barely filtered through, casting long, ghostly shadows. The air smelled damp and decayed, as if no one had set foot here for decades.

After five minutes, my phone signal vanished completely. I didn’t mind at first; this was common in hilly areas. But when the GPS screen went black for a moment and then flickered back to life, a shiver ran down my spine.

About twenty minutes later, a run-down gas station appeared through the mist. Its neon lights flickered weakly. The sign read: “Martin’s Fuel Stop.”

To my astonishment, regular fuel was priced at just $1.50 a gallon—something I hadn’t seen since the early 2000s. My tank was still half-full, but the eerie glow of the station drew me in.

I parked and started filling my tank. The pump was so old that its display had analog dials, slowly ticking as the fuel poured. I glanced around—the place was eerily silent except for the faint rustle of leaves outside.

Once the tank was full, I walked into the station without locking my car.

As soon as I entered, everything changed.

Inside, four figures stood silently. An old woman held a rusted lighter, a tall, thin man stood behind the counter, a middle-aged man with a heavy frame leaned against a shelf, and a young boy lingered in the corner. All four of them turned their gaze on me at once. Their eyes were unnervingly sharp, as if peering straight into my soul.

“I… just want some coffee,” I stammered, edging toward the shelves.

As I reached for the sugar jars, I heard a faint whisper near my ear:
"He won’t be leaving…"

I spun around. No one was there. The four others were still watching me, their expressions unreadable.

The counter man suddenly spoke, his voice low and deliberate:
“Better hurry… time is short.”

I poured the coffee, but my hands were shaking. When I turned to leave, my heart froze—the door was locked. I yanked at the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Through the glass, I saw my car had vanished.

The old woman moved slowly toward me. Her eyes glowed faintly red, and a faint smile played on her lips. The other three followed, closing in. Their voices, in perfect unison, whispered:

"You didn’t come here for fuel… we summoned you."

I stumbled backward, spilling my coffee on the floor. The counter man pointed to the back of the store, urging me forward.

“Don’t go there!” the old woman hissed, but I was already moving toward a small door at the rear.

Beyond the door was a narrow stairwell, dimly lit by a flickering bulb. Strange sounds echoed from below, faint shuffling as if dozens of people were moving together in the darkness.

I took a step down—then felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around. The boy from the corner now had completely black eyes.

"Now you’re ours…" he whispered, pushing me into the darkness.

I fell, tumbling into a long, twisting underground tunnel. The walls glimmered faintly with strange markings. Distant footsteps echoed as though hundreds of figures were circling me. No matter which way I ran, the path twisted back to the same point. My breath came in short gasps.

Then, suddenly, all four figures appeared in front of me, joined by dozens of other shadowy faces. They formed a circle, trapping me.

The old woman leaned close, her voice a chilling hiss:
"This place exists outside the world… no one leaves."

My scream vanished into the blackness.

The next morning, the police found the gas station completely empty. No pumps, no store, just a deserted lot—and my car, idling in the middle, engine still warm.