Another report of high strangeness comes to us courtesy of a reader who was reminded of the incident by this story.
This actually reminds me of the night my family drove through a hollow in the little Mazda pickup truck. My sister was in the front with Mama and our older brother Mark was in the back with our dog, Frodo. Suddenly they heard Frodo going berserk, so Mama started to slow down, but Mark threw himself against the window and yelled for her to GO FASTER, FASTER, FASTER! Then he lunged back towards the tailgate to grab Frodo and keep him in the truck bed.
Mama hit the gas hard, even though the road was curvy and when she got down the mountain to a well lighted area, she stopped and got out to see what had been the matter. My brother was white faced with terror and said that something with red eyes had tried to catch up to the truck and nearly succeeded when she’d slowed down. We never figured out what it had been, but Mark said the red eyes had been higher than the tailgate of the pickup. To this day, if I go through that hollow at night, I go fast!
I can’t remember the name of the road, but it was in the shadow of Hanging Rock in North Carolina. Oh and I remember my brother saying that he could hear the sound of, whatever it was, running, but it wasn’t a hooves striking pavement sound when someone suggested it was a donkey, mule or horse. We knew that sound, having had a pony or a horse for all of our lives at that point. He said it just sounded big and it’s feet slapped the pavement loudly, but didn’t clack like hooves.
For more vicarious thrills and chills, read my sci fi-horror novel Nethereal.
