Doris Drive

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James let the rust-spotted white 1977 Cadillac he got from his great-uncle Wilber coast down the narrow path with overgrown oak trees slapping the sides of the mechanical beast while it rolled along the pitch dark gravel road. The lights were kept off to avoid alerting anyone or anything that may be about and he had the radio off; the solitary sound coming from the slight roar of the beastly V-8 engine. After about thirty of the longest minutes he ever lived though a sign appeared on the left side of the road eerily standing out from the low hanging branches. It was an ancient looking rotten wooden sign with the words, Dorris Drive, crudely carved upon it. Seeing the name, in person, just as it had appeared during his restless nights of sleep stunned James as he stopped the car and stared at the words in shock and bewilderment. The nightmares were real. And he finally found where they emanated from.

His eyes suddenly spotted something freakish in the rearview mirror and he shot his head back to observe solid forest behind as if the path never existed. Each way around him was covered in the dense woods, except for the path ahead, and his mind raced with bewilderment. Not sure if he were awake, James pinched himself, slapped his own face with force and tried to wake up from what he suddenly thought was another devilish nightmare. But it was no dream. And as he realized the reality of the situation, he took a deep breath and stopped the car. He slowly got out, looking all around, sensing a strange sensation that he never felt while awake before, but indeed felt in his horrid dreams.

The August air was strangely frigid, yet not cold; he felt drunk and stone-cold sober and by touching the Dorris Drive sign it disintegrated into sand and fell to the high grass underneath. Feeling a sudden sensation of panic, he jumped back into the car as it began to move on its own without him touching the gas pedal. James attempted to turn off the ignition and succeeded and the car kept rolling forward at a steady pace. After finding the doors locked from within while frantically pulling on the handles, he sat back in the seat, took a deep breath.

After just a few seconds he no long felt the car moving. He reopened his eyes expecting to be stopped. As he looked out the window, he saw the car was a couple feet above the ground, being carried along by an unknown force of mist as the forest slowly crept up behind him and he continued down the path. His fear was at a pinochle, and he could do nothing but sit perfectly still and await whatever fate had in store at the end of the queer road. Somehow though, he ever so slightly felt a sense of peace.

The car's radio then turned on by itself and shut off again, eventually becoming more rapid. Then the doors suddenly opened, despite being locked, and slammed shut forcefully, slowly at first, then more rapidly with each passing second. The headlights flashed on and off, eventually becoming maddened like a strobe light filled with anguish.  None of these things effected James as they should have however, for he entered into a meditative state of mind. After a few long minutes of this new madness, the car stopped, dropped to the ground with a thud, and caused James to come back to his senses and look out at a grand old mansion. The dwelling was three stories high, dilapidated, rotting, with dirty torn rag-like curtains blowing out of the broken windows in the peculiar cool wind.

James then heard the most awful soul-piercing sound imaginable that struck his fear again. Wolves, three grey wolves, chained to a giant bare oak tree located just beside the eerie residence, howling and snarling, mad with blood-thirsty rage. In his rear view mirror he saw a figure sitting in the backseat of the car. It was all black, with giant glowing green eyes and a drooling mouth full of razor teeth. Its movements were not natural as it had the look of a person on old classic 8mm video tape moving at an unearthly rate, gyrating its head from side to side. James sat frozen, staring at the monstrosity, and it let out a scream the likes of which surely came straight from the underworld, so loud it drowned out the sounds of the monsters outside. Its breath smelled of rotten death and the force from the scream shoved James forward out of his seat pressing his head against the windshield, body contorted, and legs dangling over the steering wheel with his knee pressing the horn. And just as quickly as the creature appeared, it disappeared, and James was left trembling like a leaf in the autumn wind, full of sheer terror.

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