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Taxi Mystery
墨書 Inktalez
The night was deepening.
I stood alone in front of the Office Building, watching as the brightly lit floors gradually dimmed, a wave of melancholy washing over me. Another night spent working late, the streets were deserted, and the streetlights elongated my shadow. Raindrops began to fall steadily from the dark clouds above, splashing at my feet and creating little bursts of water.
The light and shadow under the streetlamp danced, reflecting the path of the falling raindrops, as if adding a touch of life to this silent night. I stood by the roadside, trying to hail a taxi, watching car after car pass by without stopping for me.
Raindrops traced streaks down the car windows, resembling tear stains, as if they were telling stories of the late hour. I had no idea what stories were hidden inside those vehicles or whether the hurried people inside shared my unspoken loneliness and desolation.
Finally, a car slowly came to a stop in front of me. I opened the door and got in.
“Where to, miss?” The driver was a middle-aged man with a deep, strong voice.
“To xx Community,” I replied, then leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes.
Suddenly, the radio crackled to life with a news program; the Announcer was reporting on a series of recent disappearances in the city.
“Recently, there have been multiple cases of young women going missing in our city. The police urge all female citizens to be cautious when traveling late at night…”
Each word struck my heart like a hammer, and I involuntarily opened my eyes to look at the driver. He was also glancing at me through the rearview mirror, his gaze making me instinctively tighten my grip on my clothes.
The vehicle traveled down an empty road, with only the streetlights and headlights flickering in the darkness like watchful eyes observing our movements. My heartbeat quickened, and my palms began to sweat slightly.
“Miss, are you tired?” The driver's voice broke through again, but it only heightened my unease.
I didn’t respond; I just stared intently ahead, trying to find a glimmer of light in this darkness. Suddenly, I noticed something off about the driver’s gaze. He kept stealing glances at me through the rearview mirror, his eyes seemingly hiding some unspeakable secret.
I instinctively clutched my bag tighter; my phone was inside it. If I pressed the emergency button, help would arrive swiftly. But I told myself not to act rashly; what if I was just overthinking it? That would be embarrassing—though that possibility felt almost nonexistent.
At that moment, I heard a faint rustling sound coming from the trunk. The noise was so subtle that it was almost drowned out by the rain, but I still caught it. My nerves instantly tensed up, and my imagination began to run wild, conjuring up all sorts of terrifying images.
I clutched my phone tightly, wanting to call my best friend. It wasn't that I genuinely wanted to worry her; I just hoped that the driver would think twice upon hearing me talk on the phone. I started typing a message, my fingers trembling slightly.
"Xiao Li, if I don't come back tonight, remember to call the police," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for the driver to hear.
The driver paused for a moment, glancing at me through the rearview mirror with surprise, but he didn't stop or explain anything; the car continued to speed along. I took a deep breath, deciding to bolster my courage with a lie: "My boyfriend is in police academy; he trains hard every day. I was just thinking about whether to tell him."
After hearing this, the driver's eyes flickered with a hint of surprise but quickly returned to calmness. "Police academy, huh? That must be tough. If my daughter were still alive, she would be about that age now."
He began talking about his daughter, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes—an expression I couldn't quite decipher. "I go out driving every night, hoping to earn more money to provide a better life for my daughter. But she never got to enjoy any of it before..."
His voice choked slightly as he seemed to sink into deep sorrow. Looking at him, doubts crept into my mind. Would someone who truly loved their daughter be out driving at midnight every night, even doing things that shouldn’t be seen? Why did everything feel so off?
Did this driver really love his daughter as he claimed? The sound I had heard from the trunk echoed in my mind, and I became even more convinced that something was seriously wrong with him! I tightened my grip on the phone, staying highly alert and ready for any situation that might arise, my mind racing with possible strategies. The driver continued talking about something, but I could no longer focus on his words.
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