u/Top_Coast_8709

This happened around two years ago and I still don’t like driving alone at night because of it.

I was going towards Kalimpong (India) and was somewhere past Sevoke on NH10. This was around 3 or maybe 3:30 in the morning.

I’d already crossed the Kali Mandir and Coronation Bridge area. If you know that road you know it gets pretty empty after Sevoke, especially that late. My friend from Siliguri had also told me not to take it at night because of landslides and accidents around Kalijhora but I didn’t really think much of it.

There weren’t many cars. I remember one truck near Sevoke but after that I was basically alone for a while.
At some point I saw a guy standing on the right side of the road.

He had a big dark hoodie on and was facing away from the road, like literally looking into the trees.

I thought maybe he was pissing or something and drove past.

Around five minutes later I saw him again.

Or at least someone who looked exactly like him.

Same hoodie, same height, standing the same way with his back towards me.

This is when I started getting freaked out because nobody had passed me. I was doing around 60 too. There was no way that guy could’ve somehow got ahead of me.

I just kept driving.

A little later, somewhere before Kalijhora I think, there was a gravel area on the side where trucks sometimes stop.
There was an old white Alto parked there with everything off.

And there was a guy sitting on the bonnet.
Same fucking hoodie.

I only saw him for maybe two seconds but his head was tilted really far back and his mouth looked open. Like he was looking straight up.

Right after I passed the Alto the hazards blinked once.
I don’t mean they were already blinking. They came on once and went off.

At that point I just wanted to get somewhere with people.
I eventually found a petrol pump further down and stopped there. I don’t remember exactly which one. I sat in the car until it started getting light because I didn’t really want to get out.

When I finally did, I noticed a handprint on the rear passenger window because the glass had fogged up.
It looked like someone had put their hand there and dragged their fingers down a little.

I checked it from outside first.

The print was on the inside.

Could’ve been an old handprint that only showed up because of the condensation. That’s probably what it was.
But I was alone for that entire trip and I still have no explanation for seeing that guy three times.

I used to deliver pizzas for a Domino’s in southern Illinois when I was 20.

Most nights were boring. Apartment buildings, motels, houses out by the highway. The only deliveries I hated were the ones way outside town because half the addresses were hard to find and Google Maps wasn’t always right.

One night, around 11:30, we got an order to a house outside Cairo.

It was one large pepperoni, bread twists and a Coke. Nothing weird about the order except the guy paid cash.
I remember my manager saying, “You sure you wanna take that?”

I thought he meant because it was far away.

He just said, “Never mind.”

So I went.

The address took me down a narrow road with houses getting farther and farther apart. Eventually the GPS told me to turn onto this little road that looked like it hadn’t been paved in 30 years.

There were maybe six houses on it.

Only one had lights on.

I parked outside and grabbed the food.

Before I even made it to the porch, the front door opened.
There was an old guy standing there.

He didn’t say hi or anything. Just looked at the pizza and asked how much.

I told him.

He handed me $40 and told me to keep the change.

I remember thinking at least the drive was worth it.

Then he asked me something weird.

“Did you see her?”
I said, “Who?”
He looked past me towards my car.

“The girl by the road.”
I hadn’t seen anybody.
I told him no.
He nodded and took the food.
Then he said, “Good.”
Door closed.
That was it.

I got back in my car and honestly wasn’t that freaked out. I figured he was some weird old dude messing with the pizza guy.

About two minutes later I saw someone on the side of the road.

A girl.

She looked maybe 15 or 16. White shirt, shorts, no shoes.
She was walking in the same direction I was driving.
It was almost midnight and there was nothing around, so I slowed down.

I cracked my window and asked if she needed help.
She didn’t look at me.
She just said, “Wrong house.”
I asked what she meant.
She stopped walking.
I didn’t.

Something about it felt off so I kept going and watched her disappear in my mirror.

When I got back to the store my manager was outside smoking.

First thing he asked was whether anyone answered the door.

I said yeah, some old guy.
He looked confused and asked what I meant.
I told him exactly what happened.
He went inside and pulled up the order.
Then he called the number.
Disconnected.

That’s when he told me they’d had orders to that same address before.

Always late.

Always cash.

Drivers would get there and nobody would answer.
I asked him why the hell he sent me then.

He said because nobody had ordered from there in almost a year and he figured whoever used to prank them had stopped.

Then I remembered what the girl said.
Wrong house.
I didn’t tell him that part.
I finished my shift around 1am.
When I got into my car there was something sitting on the passenger seat.
A Domino’s receipt.

At first I thought it had fallen out of my delivery bag.
Then I looked at the address.
Same house.

But it wasn’t the receipt from that night.

The date printed at the top was from eight months earlier.
At the bottom, where customers sometimes write the tip, somebody had written two words in pen.

NO ANSWER.

I quit about a month later.
Never delivered to that road again.