On a cold winter’s night in Brooklyn, Willy Jackson walked the lonely black streets home. After a long hard day seeking work, Willy was dead on his feet. He rounded one corner, hungry and tired, searching his pockets in the hopes of finding enough loose change to buy a frozen burrito.
When out of nowhere, appeared a long black taxi cab, stopping right in front of him.
The cab looked daunting , he thought, with hell fire and smoke streaming from his exhaust. He stared at the blackened windows from, what he thought was the city soot, that obscured his view of the driver. The red neon name across its black steel door read, Hell On Wheels Cab Company.
Now, Willy was ghetto wise. He saw bad shit happen on the streets all the time, in the blink of an eye a guy could get wet. So he kept his hand on his Glock, but took two steps back.
Cautious, he watched while the Driver rolled down one window.
“What’s up man.” Willy yelled, but no answered came from within the dark cab .
He peered inside, even in this darkness; Willy could see this cabby’s skeleton feature.
Ice chilled Willy’s spine, when the Cabby’s bone face turned to ask.
“ You need a ride.”
He heard the stories of the Black Hell Cab of Brooklyn that granted you one wish if you took a ride. The men that accepted the Hell Cabby’s offer were found later left on a corner dazed, no longer the men they once were. Some were even found wandering the streets loony, reliving the personal hell they experienced in their minds.
Wishbone needed many wishes granted, but he wasn’t going out like those fools who decided to take a ride in a Ghost Hell cab.
Willy yelled, “Hell NO!”
He fired off a few rounds at the skeleton driver and his dark ride.
The Cabby snickered, sinister and said, “Are you sure?”
The Phantom continued to scoff from behind the wheel, while Willy emptied his Glock amazed he couldn’t kill the ghoul or dent his ride.
“ You think the others didn’t try this?” The Phantom bellowed sarcastically.
His chamber empty, Willy ran for his life.
Willy has never been so scared, as he ran down dark streets and through cluttered alleyways. The Black Hell cab, spewing fire and smoke, nipping at his heels. Sinister laughter echoed in the night breeze from the skeletal specter picking up speed.
Willy ran for miles, ducking and dodging, yelling for help, but the streets were unearthly quiet while the large black monster tried to run him over.
He finally lost his deadly pursuer down 54th street, but Willy didn’t stop running to catch his breath. He continued until he reached his home and safety, he hoped.
Completely exhausted Willy arrived on his block, but came up short just a few yards from his stoop.
Frozen with fright, he stared from the shadows at the Hell Cab parked at his door.
He shit his pants when suddenly, the Black demon simply disappeared in a clap of thunder. The lingering laughter of the Skeleton Cabby filled the night.
He had his fun, so he left a gift , a shiny new black Beamer for Willy to keep.
Copyright © 2013 Glynis Rankin