The Hitchhikers
There are stories about a certain kind of hitchhiker – they only ever appear at night on quiet roads, seeming to flicker into existence in the very edge of headlights, never carrying a sign, always with an expression of deep despondency on their faces, swathed in a heavy coat and long pants, usually with gloves. If you stop, they will seem cordial enough, polite, but hardly chatty. They will assure you that the next town or city along your route will be a fine spot to leave them. Normal enough. Unless you try killing them.
They die easily enough. But look underneath their clothes, and you will see that their skin is marred with lines of scars, forming repeating patterns that are unsettling to look at, and even more unsettling in the context of their skin. They have no wallets, no identification. If you slice their belly open, however, they’re different inside. There’s no blood, no muscle, only a hollow cavity containing a single object. The object varies. Examples include a single coin, heavy and golden and engraved with runes nobody could ever decipher. A diamond gem with fractal edges that slice bare flesh to ribbons. A small vase, quite unbreakable, that smells of the ocean and is always damp…
Once you possess a hitchhiker’s object, you’ll find yourself always driving the quiet roads at night. You’ll never mean to, but somehow, you just will. The lure of possessing a second one will hum quietly in your head. You’ll strain to catch sight of a figure appearing in your headlights, try to resist the impulse to stop, and sometimes you might. But sometimes you won’t. You’ll try telling yourself that this is just a normal person on an adventure, someone who ran out of petrol. The logical part of your brain will scream at what you’re doing. You’ll smile and nod and they’ll get into the car and you’ll slowly, casually, reach under the seat or across to the glove box…
The Hitchhikers,
I prefer to kill them with claw-hammers, myself. That way, you can use the claw to tear ‘em open.
Curiosity killed the hitch-hiker.
But, then, of course, you would have to kill a hitch-hiker in the first place to find the object, right? Wouldn’t that mean you could have a screw loose before you found the object, and discovered an urge to kill more hitch-hikers? Doesn’t that means you could very easily just be a crazy mad(wo)man with a lust for nonexistent innard-objects.
Not if the killer had read this pasta before hand.
I killed one once. Weird fucker had a book inside, said “Guide to the Galaxy”.
Why would you just randomly kill a hitch-hiker? And what if it’s not a “magical” one. You’d probably be arrested for murder
Yea I was wondering which ass hole discovered this after killing a hitchhiker.
Anon – lol!
Very good, Anon! This is one of the better written stories here. Leaves a lot to the imagination. Lots of description. Kudos!!!
A hitchhiker with a neat toy inside?! It’s like a Happy Meal!!
Really good, Anon. It’s got really good discripton and makes you really think. Great job
lol at Anon
and i agree with emogirl
1st i ain’t picking up no bomboclat hitchiker!
2 why would i kill him? shits n giggles? i think not…u already fail author
and the treasures inside the hitcher…what if it’s something i don’t want?…like idk, a coupon for a lifetime supply of seran wrap…yaaay -_-
that is all
strangle more with all that saran wrap!
What if I have a fetish for saran wrap?
Lifetime supply of seran wrap seems nice, especially when i fucking forget to buy it 2 weeks in a row xD
@DJ: Aren’t you looking a bit too deeply into the creepypasta? Just enjoy the story.
The original Texas Chainsaw Massacre could have been so much more interesting with this story taken into account.
sorry koer
i look too deeply into a lot of things and always find some sort of humor somewhere, but apparently i come off as mean =\
@Burt: I take it you enjoy the ride. I only go for the objects, myself.
Tell me, people, what did you get?
wait… isn’t this the Vanshing Hitch Hickers?
MIND FUCKERY AHOY
@ annon
lol
Perhaps this is the reason for all those serial murderers. The ones that pick up random hitchhikers, kill them, and dump their bodies somewhere.
Just my thoughts >w<”
This is how Ash caught his first Pokeymans.
True story.
I’m just 5 hitchhikers away from a free sundae at baskin robbins.
Intresting one, it makes you the bad guy, which isn’t usually the case in creepypasta.
I severely lol’d at Anon, then at Kind Stranger and Sensei’s posts.
…And, Kind Stranger:
I found one of them holding a Nintendo Wii!
We still use it in our living room.
I never told them where I got it >_>;
Lol @ Anon and Razdaz XD.
While reading this i thought of one word: greed.
That’s why the person goes and kills more, simply pure greed.
I accidentally a hitchhiker
It’s so depressing when you run out of saran wrap, and don’t realize there’s none left until you open up new cheese or something. Wax paper is USELESS if you’re trying to keep cheese from losing moisture.