Backseat to hell

 

Backseat To Hell

I didn’t plan to get in that car. I was just supposed to play lost, fake a limp, wave down the first idiot kind enough to stop. Quick grab, maybe a punch if they screamed, then I’d be gone before they have even the slightest idea on what’s going on. But the man who pulled over gave me this overly sweet smile - the kind of innocent grin that looks borrowed from a kid’s cartoon. He didn’t even ask questions. Just unlocked the passenger door and said, “Get in.” That should’ve been my first first warning.

The inside of the car was spotless – too spotless. Not a single receipt, no crumbs, no smell of fast food or sweat. Just this faint trace of something…floral. Fake, like air freshener trying too hard. He didn’t talk much. Just drove, humming some tune under his breath, like we were old friends on a Sunday drive. I kept my hand near the pocketknife in my hoodie. Just in case he got weird. But truth was, I was already starting to wonder who I’d really just gotten in the car with.

He looks…too calm to be real. Just driving in silently. Didn’t even ask where I wanted to go, or what happened to me. Just let me into his car without hesitation. Not a flicker of doubt that I might be dangerous. Not like my other victims.

I shifted in the back seat, my hand slipping towards towards the pocketknife inside my hoodie. I didn’t make a sound – but maybe I breathed differently or maybe he just knew.

Because right then, the car jolted to a stop. Hard. The sudden stop hurled me forward – I slammed into the back of the passenger seat, choking back a curse. After nearly twenty minutes of silence, he finally spoke. Gentle,calm…and strangely detached. It sound so polite but somehow it felt…wrong in so many ways.

“Sorry. There was a huge snake.”

I looked out the tinted window, heart hammering. I couldn’t see anything. Juat a blur of road and trees. Then he hit the gas again. It hit me right in my mind. Is there really a huge snake out there?

I shifted back to my seat, trying to calm down. I can’t lose. I need to gain control. I gripped the pocketknife inside my hoodie again. This time for sure. He wasn’t driving too fast.  But then the car jolted – suddenly. Not hard but enough to lift me slightly off the seat.

Then it came again and again. I don’t even have the chance to breathe, let alone make a move. Why so many potholes. I waited, bracing for the next hit. But nothing came. I hadn’t realized I’ve been holding my breath until I let it out – shaky uneven. Hopefully he didn’t notice.

Once the ride smoothed out again, I gripped my pocketknife tighter – big mistake. I was thrown hard to the side. The sudden turn was so violence, the knife dug in my stomach. A sharp, fast pain. I scrambled upright, pressing my palm to the wound. I had to play it cool.

I couldn’t let my prey knows the truth. I’m still the hunter here. But then he let out a soft chuckle. Just enough for me to hear it.

“Almost missed a turn.”he said, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.”That’s my seatbelts are important.”

He tilted his head slightly. Like talking to a small child. I need to take control here – fast. Timing. I need to control it. I was busy thinking about my plan to the point where I forget one of the oldest hunting rule: never take your eyes off the prey. I didn’t notice him talking to me until a short honk pulled me back.

“Put on your seatbelt.”he said – gentle, calm… but something about the way he said it felt off. Not a suggestion. More like an order wrapped in silk.

I stayed quiet. Ignored him. I wanted control – I needed to feel dominant. I glared at him from the backseat. But his face didn’t change. That sweet, innocent smile of his is still sitting there. Still watching.

Then the car jolted again – he hit the brakes. Not enough to stop the car but just enough to throw me forward. Before I could recover, he began driving in a zigzag. Again and again. Each turn slammed me into the side, the pain in my abdomen sharpening with each turn.

There was patterns – swerve, straight and swerve again. It hit me. Seatbelt. He had told me to wear it. The moment he straightened out the car again, I gave in and yanked the seatbelt into place. Ego aside, safety first. The wound in my abdomen is screaming for help and I can hear every second of it.

“Now that’s a good boy.” He said, with that same polite tone that grated on my nerves.

It’s like he was trying to show me that I am nothing but a mere dog – and he’s the one holding the leash. The moment the seatbelt clicked into place, I realized that my movement is now limited. Suffocating my awareness. Tied down, just enough. Not enough to stop me entirely but enough to make my every move risky. He’d managed to pull me into his game, and I didn’t even see it coming.

My fingers clenched the fabric of my hoodie, nails digging into my palm. He think he won. He think I’m just going to sit here, clipped in like a well-behaved pet. My blood boiled. My pride burned. He wanted a game. Fine, let’s play. Or so I thought.

Calm down. Is there anything useful here? Damn it, why is his car so clean. I tried to unclip my seatbelt.

“Don’t”

One word. His face is all smile but this time, his word – felt different. Calm but I can feel it’s icy cold. How did he even know I was about to unclip my seatbelt? It’s like he knew my move. Like he have eyes on the back of his neck. I tried to distract myself by looking at the tinted window. The road is…eerie. Scary. Thick forests, big tress. I swear I saw shadows between the trees. Where am i?

“We’re going in circles. Where are we going?”I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

“I don’t know. Where are you going?”he said, and though he was smiling, there was something sharp behind it – like a teeth hidden in the dark.

Like a wolf that was hiding and disguising in a flock of sheep, waiting for the perfect time to bite it’s prey and I am that prey. Aargh, this guy is insane. Just…who is he? I reached instinctively for my pocket, the froze. I left my phone. Talk about great timing. How am I supposed to call for help now. There have to be something. A radio? Anything. I leaned forward, squinting through the dimness. There. Where the radio should be.

12:45 Pm.

Ehh? Has it really been that long? The car was dark inside, like time got stuck here. I tried to calm myself. Maybe I need to double check the time. My monologue probably took a minute already so let’s check again.

Still 12:45 Pm

Something’s off. I leaned in as close as I can. The seatbelt is limiting my every move. As I looked at the digital radio closely. I noticed something. It’s printed. Ah, no wonder the time didn’t change at all. My jaw clenched. I’ve been played by a mere paper. I turned slightly, just enough to catch his face in the mirror. He wasn’t looking at the road. I noticed his lips twitched. Not a smirk, and not a smile. It’s like…he was trying hard to contain his laugh to himself. That stupid, fake calm-now with something darker underneath. He wanted me to notice it.

I looked outside the window to distract myself. But wait, that tree. I’ve seen it before. The road signs… they haven’t change at all.

I leaned forward, squinting out the window. The landscape repeated like a broken record. I turned, glanced behind me-same split path. Same crooked lamp post. Same abandoned house.

No. no way!

“We’ve been going in circle.”-I muttered, mostly to myself. But the words hung in the air like a smoke.

I looked up the rearview mirror. He was watching me throught it. Hands still on the wheels, relaxed. Too relaxed.

“You’re not the one in control here. I am.”-he said softly.

My jaw tightened. My fingers curled instinctively arounf the handle of the pocketknife again, but the belt across my chest pinned me still. I couldn’t move the way I wanted to. He knew that.

He didn’t plan this. But he read me the moment I stepped into his car. And now he’s enjoying every second of flipping the roles.

“Why me?” I hissed, voice low, laced with disbelief and pain. “Why pick me?”

He laughed. Just once. Short and sharp.

“I didn’t,” he said simply. “You picked me.”

I blinked.

“What—”

“Thank you,” he interrupted smoothly, “for choosing me as your victim.”

The air left my lungs.

This bastard turned it all on me.

He changed lanes without warning, sending my body jolting sideways. I cursed, struggling to stay upright, the seatbelt digging into my chest. He was doing it again—reminding me who was in control.

“But you wanted to rob me,” he continued casually, “and now look where we are.”

I stared at the side of his head. He didn’t even flinch. So calm. So in control.

“You ever wonder what happens when the prey is more dangerous than the hunter?”

I couldn’t answer. My mind raced. He glanced at the fuel gauge. Still enough. Then at the road ahead—empty, winding, endless. And then back at me, through the mirror.

“You’re not getting out until I say so.”-he said softly.

I gritted my teeth. Enough.

With a sudden twist, I yanked the knife free and slashed at the seatbelt—he slammed the brake. I flew forward, smashing into the dashboard, the blade flying from my hand. My vision blurred. Blood—mine. Before I could push myself up, his hand reached over, slow and deliberate, and plucked the knife off the floor. He examined it like it was a toy.

“Sharp,” he muttered, then glanced at me—really looked at me for the first time.

I can see his face clearly now. Because all the time, I was only seeing the back of his head.

“Too bad you didn’t sharpen your instincts.”

He pocketed the knife, shifted the car into gear, and drove on. Humming. I slumped back, broken, the road stretching endlessly ahead. Game over. But I knew, in that moment— I was no longer the hunter. I was his passenger.

And he had all the time in the world. I stopped trying to count the turns.
They all feel the same now. Left. Right. Another corner.
Different roads, same madness. We're not going anywhere.

At first, I thought maybe it was a shortcut. Then a coincidence. But when I saw the same old convenience store the third time around… I knew. We’ve been going in circles.

I clutched my side instinctively. The cut stings, but not as much as the growing realization crawling up my spine.

He knows. He knew all along. I glanced at him—just for a second. Hands on the wheel. Eyes on the road. That stupid, calm face. Like he’s just… enjoying this. I try to unclip the seatbelt. My fingers barely move. Pain and blood make every shift miserable.

“Don’t,” he says.
No raise in tone. No glance toward me. Just one word. Solid. Final.

I freeze.
How did he—?
He didn’t even look.

I force myself to laugh. Bitter. Low.
“Is this some kind of game to you?” I mutter.

He doesn't answer. He doesn’t need to. My stomach churns. I lean forward, gripping my hoodie tight, careful with the knife wound. I thought I was the predator. Thought I had picked my victim. Turns out, I am the victim after all. I walked right into this. I walked into his world.
And I don’t know the rules anymore.

I can’t breathe. The blood’s warm, soaking through my hoodie, sticking to my skin. I try to lift the knife again—but my hand won’t listen. My fingers are numb. I want to say something. Anything. But my throat’s dry. Tongue heavy.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to beg. To cry. I was supposed to be in control. But I can’t even sit straight now. The seatbelt’s digging into me, holding me in place like a shackle. I try again to unclip it. Nothing. My body won’t move. Ah, even my body betrayed me now.

The car finally stops. Silence. I try to unbuckle the seatbelt again, but my hands are trembling. Too much blood. Too much pain. The door opens. He’s coming.

I gather the remaining strength that I have left to yank the buckle, stumble out of the car. My legs barely hold. Still—I won’t die sitting down. with my knife missing, I lunged—not with strength, but mere will.

He doesn’t flinch. He grabs my wrist mid-swing. Twists. Pain shoots up my arm. He took out my knife that he picked up earlier.. I collapse to my knees.

He hold it up. Studies it like it’s a piece of art. Then, without hesitation—he plunges it into me. Cold. Everything goes cold. I gasp, choking on my own breath. He leans in, almost gently.

“Looks like the weapon ate its own owner.”

His smirk was the last thing I saw before my world faded into darkness.

 

*Bonus scene

[Driver’s POV – Days Later]

It’s been a few days since the last one.

The hoodie’s still in the trunk, stained and crumpled. I should probably burn it soon. But maybe not yet. Maybe I like the scent it left behind. A reminder.

The pocketknife? Clean. Polished. Back in the glovebox like it’s always been mine.

No one noticed the missing body. They never do. Dumped deep, far enough where even guilt wouldn’t find it.

I’ve been driving the same streets, same loops.

Same smile.

Tonight, the road is quiet—until I see him.

A lone figure by the roadside. Hood up. Thumb out.

I slow the car, just enough to catch a better look. The thrill stirs again—faint, electric.

I grin to myself.

“Looks like fun is about to begin again.”

The lock clicks open. The wheels start turning.

🎵 The wheels on the car go round and round… 🎵