My family was cursed. All the men died early, none living beyond their sixties. My father was no exception. I watched the tow truck dump the remains of his car into the dust of the driveway. One wheel was askew, windows shattered, roof crumpled. The airbags had been deployed, leaving a fine white dust over everything but for the seat where my father had been driving.

He was missing for two days before his car was found upside down in a ravine. The coroner’s report was inconclusive. His injuries had not been fatal. Oddly, the police report showed no skid marks on the road. He had missed the turn and driven over the edge without hesitation. Perhaps it had been a heart attack, dead before he hit bottom. After two days of decomposition it was impossible to know for certain.

I had the car delivered here out of morbid curiosity. When the tow truck left, I looked inside for clues the police may have missed. The backseat was filled with glass shards, paperwork from a loose briefcase scattered about. Like my thoughts, it was a mess. Is this my fate, dead in a ditch or drowned in a bathtub like my grandfather? It made me never want children just to end the cycle.

I turned to the trunk. Bent out of shape, it was jammed, refusing to open. Getting a large screwdriver, I pried at it using a lip of metal as leverage. The trunk popped open releasing a stale, fetid odor. Lifting, I felt resistance, then the door pulled out of my hand and slammed shut again.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Confused, I tried once more. It opened a hand’s width but no further. I stooped to look through the gap to see what had snagged it.

Something inside shifted, an undulating darkness. Startled, I jumped back. Had an animal gotten into the car? After two days in a ravine, perhaps a raccoon had made a home of it. I banged on the trunk hoping to cow the creature into submission before trying again. This time it opened with ease.

I never had a chance to see what was inside. A dark flowing mass leapt out and wrapped around my head, blocking my vision. When I tried to cry out the thing shoved its way into my mouth, cutting off my voice. I clawed at it, but it was slippery, hands tearing through viscous slime.

Flailing, I fell to the ground and rolled trying to release the creature’s grip, but to no avail. I could feel it slipping further down my throat, choking me. Without air my strength flagged. Then I was gone.

When I got up I brushed off the dust. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I hoped this one was stronger than the last. It would be good not to have to move again anytime soon. Even so I needed to settle down and have children. After all, nothing lasts forever.