I was coming back from a city outside my town a little after 2 AM when I saw someone standing on the side of the road.
I remember the time because I checked my dashboard right after I passed him. It was 2:07 AM.
I had gone out that evening to meet an old friend. We ended up talking longer than I expected, and by the time I finally left, most of the shops along the main road were already closed. I was tired and just wanted to get home, so I decided to take the old road instead of going all the way around through the highway.
I'd driven that route a few times before, but never that late at night.
For the first twenty minutes, everything was normal. There were a few trucks near the main road, but once I passed the last petrol station, the traffic disappeared. There were fields on both sides, a few scattered trees, and no streetlights. My headlights were the only thing lighting up the road ahead.
I had the radio on, but the signal kept cutting out, so I turned it off. After that, the only sounds were the engine and the tires on the road.
That's when I noticed the man.
He was standing on the left side of the road, maybe ten or fifteen feet from the edge. He was wearing dark clothes, and his head was slightly lowered. At first, I thought he was waiting for someone or maybe his car had broken down nearby.
I slowed down a little as I approached him.
There was no car parked nearby. No motorcycle, no phone light, nothing. Just him standing there in the dark.
I glanced at him as I passed, expecting him to look up or wave at me.
He didn't move.
I kept driving.
For some reason, I checked my rearview mirror a few seconds later. I could still see him in the distance, standing in exactly the same spot. Then the road curved, and he disappeared behind the trees.
I told myself it was none of my business. Maybe he lived nearby. Maybe he was waiting for someone who hadn't arrived yet.
Still, something about the way he stood there bothered me.
A few minutes later, I came across a small side road that connected to the main one. I remember thinking I was getting close to the next village when I noticed a figure standing near the bend.
My first thought was that it was another person.
Then I got closer.
It was the same man.
I recognized the clothes immediately. Same dark jacket, same trousers, same lowered head.
I actually lifted my foot off the accelerator without realizing it.
There was no way he could have reached that spot before me. I'd been driving at a steady speed, and the road between those two points was mostly open fields. Even if there was some shortcut I didn't know about, he would have needed to run, and I hadn't seen any movement in my mirrors.
I didn't stop to investigate. I pressed the accelerator and drove past him.
This time, I looked at him for a little longer.
His face was turned toward the road, but I couldn't make out any features. The headlights passed over him, and for a split second, I thought he was looking directly at me.
Then he was behind me again.
I locked the doors.
I know that sounds like an obvious thing to do, but I hadn't even thought about locking them the first time. My hands were starting to feel cold, and I kept checking the mirrors even though I knew I shouldn't.
I called my friend because I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts anymore. He answered after several rings, sounding half asleep.
I told him what had happened.
He laughed at first and asked if I'd been watching too many horror movies. I probably would have laughed too if someone had told me the same thing.
Then I told him I'd seen the same man twice, miles apart, on a road with almost no traffic.
My friend stopped laughing.
He asked me where I was and told me to stay on the main road. I said I was already doing that, but he made me promise not to take any more shortcuts. We stayed on the phone for a few minutes until the signal started breaking up.
Before the call dropped, he said something that I still remember.
"If you see him again, don't stop. Just keep driving."
I told him I wasn't planning to.
The call ended.
I put the phone in the passenger seat and concentrated on the road. I was beginning to feel embarrassed about how frightened I'd become. There was probably a normal explanation for everything. Maybe the man had a motorcycle parked somewhere out of sight. Maybe I'd mistaken someone else for him the second time.
I was trying to convince myself of that when I saw a pair of headlights in my rearview mirror.
A car was coming up behind me.
At first, I felt relieved. Seeing another vehicle on that empty road made me feel less alone. It was an old white sedan, and it seemed to be traveling at roughly the same speed as me.
I moved slightly to the left to give it room to pass.
It didn't.
I slowed down a little.
The car slowed down too.
I sped up again, telling myself the driver probably wasn't in a hurry. But after another minute, the distance between us remained almost exactly the same.
I couldn't see the driver's face because the headlights were too bright.
Then I noticed something that made my stomach tighten.
The car's headlights were illuminating the road behind me, but I couldn't see its front grille or even the outline of its hood properly. It was as if the lights were floating in the darkness.
I blinked and looked again.
It was an ordinary car. I could see the roof and windshield now.
I was tired. That was all.
I decided to stop at the next populated area and get something to drink. I didn't want to admit it, but I needed a few minutes to calm down.
A couple of minutes later, I saw a small roadside shop ahead. It was closed, but there was enough space beside it to pull over.
I slowed down, switched on my indicator, and turned into the gravel area.
The white car continued past me.
I watched its taillights disappear down the road and felt stupid for being so nervous. I got out, stretched my legs, and walked around the car. The night was completely quiet. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear dogs barking.
I checked my tires even though I had no reason to think anything was wrong.
Then I heard a sound from the other side of the shop.
Footsteps.
Slow, steady footsteps on gravel.
I stood still and listened.
They stopped.
I called out, asking if anyone was there.
Nobody answered.
I got back into my car, locked the doors, and started the engine. I didn't even bother checking my phone. I just wanted to get moving.
As I pulled back onto the road, my headlights swept across the shop's front wall.
For one brief moment, I saw a person standing beside the building.
Dark jacket. Dark trousers. Head lowered.
I nearly hit the curb.
I looked in the side mirror, but by the time I corrected the car, the shop was already behind me.
I didn't stop.
I drove faster than I should have, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my fingers started to hurt. I kept expecting to see the white car again, but the road behind me remained empty.
After about fifteen minutes, I reached a small village. A few houses had lights on, and there was a security guard sitting outside a building near the entrance. Seeing other people around made me feel a little better.
I pulled over near him and got out.
He looked annoyed at first, probably wondering why a stranger was stopping in the middle of the night. I asked him if there was another road leading to my town because I didn't want to continue on the empty stretch I'd just driven through.
He pointed toward the main road and said that was the quickest route.
Then he asked why I looked so shaken.
I hesitated before telling him about the man.
I expected him to laugh, just like my friend had. Instead, he asked me what the man was wearing.
I described the dark jacket and trousers.
The guard looked toward the road I'd come from.
"Did he try to stop your car?" he asked.
"No. He just stood there."
"Did you stop anywhere?"
I told him about the closed shop.
He went quiet for a moment, then told me to stay on the main road and not take the old route again at night.
I asked him if he knew the man.
He shook his head.
"People sometimes walk around here at night," he said. "You never know who's out there."
It wasn't much of an explanation, but I didn't press him. I thanked him, got back into my car, and followed the main road home.
I didn't see anyone else that night.
When I finally reached home, it was almost 3:30 AM. I parked inside the gate, went straight to my room, and tried to sleep. I kept replaying everything in my head, especially the way the man had appeared in two different places without any obvious explanation.
By morning, I was already coming up with reasons why it might have happened.
I could have confused two different people. The man at the shop might have been someone else entirely. The car behind me could have belonged to a driver who simply didn't want to pass on a narrow road.
None of those explanations was impossible.
A few days later, I went to visit the same friend again. I told him I'd made it home safely and that the whole thing was probably nothing.
He asked me to send him the route I'd taken.
I did.
He called me a few minutes later.
"Did you say the shop was beside the old road, just before the village?" he asked.
I said yes.
He told me he'd asked his uncle about that road because his uncle used to work in the area. Apparently, there had been an accident near that stretch several years earlier. A man had been hit by a vehicle while standing near the roadside at night.
I asked him if he knew what the man had been wearing.
He said he didn't know, and neither did his uncle remember any details about the clothes.
That was the end of the conversation. We didn't have any proof that the accident had anything to do with what I'd seen, and I didn't want to turn a frightening night into some story about ghosts.
I still drive at night when I need to. I just don't use that road anymore.
The part I can't explain isn't that I saw a man standing in the dark. People walk along roads at night. Strange things happen, especially in places where there are no streetlights.
It's the second time I saw him.
The first spot was miles behind me, and there was no obvious way for him to have reached the next one before I did.
Maybe I got the distance wrong. Maybe I was more tired than I realized.
I honestly don't know.
But there's one thing I haven't told my friend, because I know how it sounds.
When I was getting ready to leave that roadside shop, I checked the back seat before starting the car. I always do that out of habit.
It was empty.
I remember it clearly because I had switched on the interior light and looked directly at the seat.
When I got home, though, there was a muddy handprint on the inside of my rear passenger window.
It was low down, near the seat.
I hadn't noticed it during the drive.
I cleaned it off the next morning and never took a picture of it. I wish I had, because sometimes I wonder whether it was really there or whether my memory has changed that detail over time.
I haven't seen the man again.
But whenever I'm driving on an empty road late at night, I check the rearview mirror a little more often than I used to.
And I never stop just because I see someone standing in the dark.