Scary Reddit Stories

Never Pick Up A Hitchhiker

My town of Allendale was small and rural, surrounded by beautiful scenery and a never ending forest. It wasn't uncommon to pick up hitchhikers. They were mostly college students or solo travelers traveling the east, but lately, our hitchhikers were going missing and their bodies washed up by the river.

We had a serial killer in Allendale. A town where everyone knew everyone.

So far, nine hitchhikers had gone missing. All males. All between the ages of 19-35. My poor little town was in fear, its people looking behind their shoulders every minute and rushing home before the sun set.

"Crazy what's happening out there, huh?" Lolly, the pudgy, middle aged waitress at Flo's Diner asked.

Whitney and I exchanged scared glances. We couldn't even catch a late night flick at the movie theatre anymore. Allendale was under curfew. Everyone had to be home by 8 o'clock, or they'd spend the night in jail.

"Can't believe there's real sicko's out there. To think there's one right here," Whitney answered.

Lolly sighed, her double chin pressing into her chest slightly. "There's sick sick men out there, girls. A woman can never be too safe. We're about to lock up for curfew. You girls got a ride home?"

Whitney and I nodded. "She's driving," I replied.

"Bye, Aunt Lolly." Whitney waved.

"You girls get on home safely. Chloe, tell your folks I said hello."

I smiled and waved back. "I will. Thanks, Lolly."

The cold, Virginian air nipped at my face as we walked back to the car. Whitney quickly turned on the heater, blowing out short puffs of air as she tried to get warm. It was the dead of winter and although we never got snow, it got deadly cold, especially for hitchhikers walking through the frigid night.

"Think we'll see any? I feel terrible for them," Whitney said.

"I don't know... the police say someone picking up hitchhikers are killing them, but what if a hitchhiker is killing them?" I asked.

Whitney sighed. "Yeah... you're right. Who knows."

We drove through the sunset, blasting Taylor Swift on the radio. Living in such a small town, this was all Whitney and I did. Drive to Flo's Diner for free dinner and sometimes catch a movie if they were any good. On the drive home, we'd listen to Taylor Swift. Yeah, boring, I know - but I wouldn't change these moments for anything.

"Ah, crap," Whitney muttered as a hitchhiker flagged us down. He looked to be in his early twenties, barely covered in clothing suitable enough for the late night weather and his nose was bright red from the cold.

We stopped and I rolled down my window. "Don't you know there's a killer out here?" I asked. "The hell are you doing out here?"

"Sorry for holding ya'll up. I got lost hiking and couldn't make it back to my cabin in time for curfew. Mind giving me a lift back? Couple pretty things like yourselves don't look like butchers." He smiled, blue eyes staring at me flirtatiously.

I blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Hop in."

I could feel Whitney glare at me, but she sighed heavily and took off driving as soon as he buckled in.

"What's your name?" She asked him.

"Kyle. Thanks for the ride, I appreciate it."

"No problem. I'm Whitney, she's Chloe."

I said nothing as they kept talking. Through the rear view mirror, I saw Kyle toying with something in his pocket and looking behind him every couple minutes. A sick feeling bubbled in the pit of my stomach. Maybe we shouldn't have picked this guy up. Whitney must've noticed because she cracked a smile and said,

"Don't worry. There's no killer behind us. You're safe."

And then it happened too fast. Kyle had a gun to her head. "But you're not."

Whitney gasped, nearly slamming on the brakes until he pressed it further into her temple. "Keep driving, sweetheart. Wouldn't want anything to happen to that pretty face of yours."

She started crying, mascara running down her rosy red cheeks. "P-please, p-please don't hurt us. We'll take you wherever you want. You can take the car, just please don't-"

"SHUT UP!" He roared. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to pick up a hitchhiker?"

I pulled my gun from the passenger side compartment and pressed it to his throat. "I don't know. Didn't yours ever tell you not to get into a car with a stranger?"

Kyle's face paled. Whitney smirked, all traces of her tears gone. That was a special talent she had - being able to cry on command. Kyle's hand trembled and Whitney quickly knocked it out of his hand before he could even pull the trigger.

"No.... no... t-they said the killer was a m-man," he stuttered.

"They were w-wrong," I mocked. "We're not all bad, Kyle. We don't kill for fun. We only kill those who take advantage of our kindness. Two pretty girls offering to take someone home. Some made it home safely. Others didn't. You won't."

"Didn't you find it strange how we didn't ask you for directions, Kyle?" Whitney giggled. "We just kept driving and you didn't suspect a single thing."

"HELP! HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!" He screamed at the top of his lungs.

Whitney giggled again. "Don't be silly. Nobody can hear you up here."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Please just let me out. I won't tell anyone, please!" He pleaded.

I smiled lowly.

"Too late."

"Stupid hitchhikers," I muttered as we watched Kyle's lifeless body float down the river.

"Think they'll ever catch us?" Whitney asked.

I shrugged. "Who cares. Nothing better to do in this town anyway. Might as well get rid of some low-lives."

She sighed. "That's ten down. Maybe we should stop, Chloe."

"Yeah... maybe."

The drive back was silent. No small talk and no Taylor Swift music. The sun has already set and it was a quarter to eight o'clock. As we drove down the highway, another hitchhiker appeared. He seemed hesitant at first until he noticed we were female, then stuck out his thumb.

Whitney pulled over and the older man grinned nervously at us. "Evening. You girls mind giving me a lift home before curfew?"

I smiled.

"Sure. Hop in."