Part 1 — Why I Never Drive Through Appalachia at Night
According to a story shared online, a man named West grew up just outside Asheville, North Carolina. Like many teenagers, he couldn’t wait to get his first job and earn enough money to buy his own truck, pay for petrol, and enjoy a little independence.
When he turned sixteen, he was hired by a local auto mechanic. The work was demanding, especially during the busy season when vehicles seemed to arrive faster than they could be repaired. Long evenings became normal, and staying well after sunset was simply part of the job.
West didn’t mind.
He enjoyed working with engines, and he liked the quiet drive home after everyone else had gone to bed.
There was only one part of that drive he never particularly liked.
The shortcut.
It wound through a remote stretch of the Appalachian Mountains, cutting nearly fifteen minutes off the journey home. During the day it was a beautiful road, bordered by towering hardwoods and steep ridges that stretched for miles in every direction.
At night, however, it became something entirely different.
There were no streetlights.
No houses.
No passing traffic.
Just a narrow ribbon of asphalt twisting through miles of dense forest.
His parents had warned him about taking that road after dark.
Not because they feared accidents.
Because locals avoided it.
Whenever West asked why, nobody ever gave him a straight answer.
Some blamed wildlife.
Others mentioned old stories passed down for generations.
A few simply shrugged and said it was better not to travel those mountains once the sun disappeared.
West assumed they were exaggerating.
After all, he’d driven the shortcut several times without incident.
It was only another country road.
Nothing more.
One autumn evening, a customer arrived just before closing with a pickup truck that refused to start. The repair took longer than expected, and by the time West locked the garage doors, it was already close to midnight.
He considered taking the longer highway home.
Instead, exhaustion convinced him to save the extra time.
He turned onto the mountain road.
The forest swallowed him almost immediately.
The farther he drove, the darker everything became.
His headlights illuminated only a short stretch of pavement ahead before disappearing into walls of black trees. Every bend concealed another, making it impossible to see more than a few seconds down the road.
Normally he kept the radio playing.
That night he switched it off.
Something about the silence outside made music feel strangely out of place.
The only sounds inside the truck were the steady hum of the engine and the occasional crunch of tyres rolling across loose gravel near the shoulder.
Several miles passed without another vehicle.
Without another light.
Without any sign that another person was anywhere nearby.
West glanced upward through the windshield.
The sky above the mountains was remarkably clear.
Thousands of stars filled the darkness, brighter than he had ever seen them from town.
For a moment, he relaxed.
Maybe people really had exaggerated these roads.
Then the temperature inside the truck seemed to change.
It wasn’t dramatic.
Just enough for him to notice.
He reached toward the heater controls, assuming they had somehow been turned down.
They hadn’t.
A few seconds later he became aware of something else.
The forest had gone completely quiet.
He hadn’t realised there had been sound before, but now its absence felt impossible to ignore.
No insects.
No distant owls.
No wind moving through the trees.
The silence felt heavy.
Almost expectant.
West laughed quietly at himself.
“You’ve been listening to too many ghost stories,” he muttered.
Even as he spoke, the words sounded unconvincing.
He pressed a little harder on the accelerator.
The truck picked up speed.
The road curved sharply around the side of the mountain before dropping into a long valley where thick forest crowded both sides of the pavement.
This section had always made him uneasy.
The trees grew so close to the road that their branches formed a dark tunnel overhead, allowing almost no moonlight to reach the ground.
His headlights became the only source of illumination.
Everything beyond them disappeared into darkness.
West tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
Something didn’t feel right.
He couldn’t explain why.
There was nothing on the road.
Nothing in the trees.
Nothing visible at all.
Yet every instinct told him he wasn’t alone.
He looked into the rear-view mirror.
Empty road.
He checked the passenger-side mirror.
Nothing.
Then he glanced back toward the windshield.
Something moved.
Just for an instant.
A dark shape darted between the trees before disappearing again.
West instinctively lifted his foot from the accelerator.
Perhaps it had been a deer.
Perhaps a bear.
Animals crossed these roads all the time.
He leaned forward slightly, trying to see farther into the darkness beyond the reach of his headlights.
The road ahead appeared empty once again.
He let out a slow breath.
Then he continued driving.
Less than thirty seconds later, something burst from the woods directly into the middle of the road.
(Continued in Part 2) ➡️ https://storiesworld.us/archives/10207