Rakesh, an auto-rickshaw driver in a small Indian town, often drove late into the night to earn extra money. One such night, as the clock struck past midnight, he noticed a lone woman standing under a dim streetlight. She was dressed in a pure white saree, her face half-covered by her hair. She quietly raised her hand, asking for a ride. Without hesitation, Rakesh stopped and let her sit in the back.
The woman remained silent throughout the journey, and the air inside the rickshaw felt strangely cold. As Rakesh glanced at the rear-view mirror, his blood froze— the seat was empty! Shocked, he turned back quickly, only to find no one there. Panicking, he pulled the rickshaw over. Suddenly, a chilling laugh echoed around him, and he saw her standing right next to the vehicle. Her face was pale, her eyes glowed blood red, and her lips curved into a horrifying smile.
Rakesh’s hands trembled as he started the rickshaw and sped away without looking back. The haunting laughter followed him until he reached home. That night, he swore never to pick up passengers on lonely roads after midnight again. Some rides, he realized, are not meant for the liv
ing.
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