The Ominous Car

A month ago, I bought a car with a bad omen-a second-hand BMW that originally cost over half a million yuan. After a year on the road, I snagged it for just two hundred thousand.

I thought I had scored a great deal, but strange things started happening once it was in my possession.

For instance, while driving alone, the dashboard would suddenly indicate that the passenger seatbelt wasn't fastened.

Sometimes, while listening to music, the sound quality would abruptly deteriorate, crackling like someone was scratching glass with something hard, giving me the creeps.

Occasionally, bizarre noises would interrupt the music, as if someone were speaking, but I couldn't make out the words.

Once, after working late, I heard a tapping on the rear window on my way home. The sound was faint but clear, and when I turned to look, I nearly collided with the car in front, breaking out in a cold sweat.

I had a nagging feeling something was wrong with the car, but I brushed it aside, convincing myself that the tapping was probably just the wind blowing something against the glass.

It wasn't until last week that something truly terrifying happened.

Last Saturday was my girlfriend Jaynie's birthday. We celebrated with her friends, drinking and singing until late. After dropping everyone off, we took a detour to the riverside.

We didn't get out of the car; instead, we climbed into the back seat, eager to be close.

As we were getting intimate, a voice suddenly murmured from beneath us, "You're crushing me." I shifted my weight and continued, but the voice repeated, "You're crushing me."

Realizing something was wrong, my mind went blank. We were kissing, so where was the voice coming from?

I shivered, goosebumps rising on my skin, and looked around frantically. Nothing seemed amiss inside the car, and outside, it was pitch black.

Jaynie, confused, asked what was wrong.

I asked if she heard anything, but she said no and urged me to continue.

I pulled her up, zipped up my pants, and suggested we leave.

At that moment, all I could think about was getting away from that eerie place.

Jaynie, not understanding, touched me and was displeased, asking why I suddenly couldn't continue.

I didn't want to scare her, so I didn't mention the voice, only saying I lost interest. We drove off.

Sometimes, women's thoughts can be quite perplexing. While I was nearly scared to death, Jaynie started crying halfway home, accusing me of cheating.

I denied it, but she didn't believe me, saying I must have another woman since I wasn't interested in her anymore.

Realizing my mistake, I promised I didn't mean it that way.

She demanded proof, so I handed her my phone, letting her check it freely.

She didn't look at my phone but tried a few more times at home, all unsuccessful.

Frustrated, she stormed out, slamming the door.

For days, I've been calling and texting her, trying to explain why I couldn't perform that night, but Jaynie doesn't believe me. She even posted on Facebook: "When someone doesn't love you anymore, even their explanations are half-hearted."

Lying in bed, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Jaynie and I have been together for almost three years, and things have been good. We were planning to meet each other's parents over a holiday weekend, which is why I bought the car-to make a good impression on my future mother-in-law. But instead of earning points, I've ended up with this problem.

"Knock, knock, knock..."

Lost in thought, I suddenly heard a knock at the door.

Checking my phone, it was midnight. Who could it be at this hour?

Could it be Jaynie?

I opened the door to find not Jaynie, but my upstairs neighbor, reeking of alcohol.

"Jonny, did you have a fight with your girlfriend?" he slurred.

"How do you know?" I asked, embarrassed.

Is the soundproofing really that bad?

Has he heard everything?

"I was coming back from drinking and heard a woman crying in your car, sobbing so sadly. I looked through the window and saw your girlfriend in the back seat, shaking with sobs," he said.

His words sent chills down my spine.

"Are you sure it was my girlfriend?"

"Of course!

I even tried to comfort her, but she ignored me. I figured you two had a fight. As men, we should be flexible and understanding.

Go and make up with her," he advised before staggering back upstairs.

I called Jaynie, but her phone was off.

After some thought, I went downstairs.

Under the dim streetlight, my car sat quietly in the corner, with no sign of the crying Jonny mentioned.

I approached the car, wanting to open the door, but hesitated at the sight of the dark windows. The words "You're crushing me" echoed in my mind.

"Jaynie?

Are you in there?"

I called out, but there was no response.

My voice seemed unnaturally loud in the silent night.

"Jaynie?" I called again, but still no answer.

Could Jonny have been mistaken?

Maybe Jaynie was just ignoring me out of spite?

With sweaty palms, I held my breath and leaned closer to the window, pressing my face against the glass to peer inside.

What I saw nearly gave me a heart attack-a ghostly face with piercing red eyes and a chilling smile stared back at me through the glass!

I let out a muffled cry and scrambled back upstairs, running all the way to the fourth floor. I considered going home but realized I'd be alone, so I ran up to the fifth floor and banged on Jonny's door.

When he opened it, I rushed inside, closing the door behind me, panting heavily.

"What's wrong?"

Jonny asked, bewildered.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" I pleaded.

Whether it was my appearance or his drunken state, Jonny became wary. "Even though my wife is away, I can't just-" "It's not like that.

I can't go home.

There's a haunting presence in my car. Think carefully, did you see the woman's face clearly?" I interrupted.

Jonny's face turned pale as he seemed to recall something. Grabbing my hand, he said, "Jonny, you can stay tonight.

My wife isn't home, and I'm scared alone."

We lay in bed with the lights on, unable to sleep. Jonny asked, "Did your car have any major accidents before?"

"It shouldn't have. I specifically asked the dealership," I replied.

"A second-hand car, huh?"

Jonny clicked his tongue and asked, "Has anything else happened before tonight?"

I recounted the previous incidents to him.

After listening, Jonny gave me a sympathetic look and said, "You probably bought a haunted car. Only cars that have seen blood and death act like this.

You've been duped!"

He shared a story from his hometown about a young man who didn't believe in superstitions and bought a second-hand truck. The original owner died in an accident when the truck overturned on a mountain, crushing him beyond recognition.

The young man bought the truck cheaply, but within two months, he had an accident at a T-junction on a downhill slope.

He should have turned, but the steering wheel wouldn't budge, as if someone was fighting him for control. The brakes mysteriously failed, and the truck plunged into a ditch. He survived, but lost his left leg. I saw him last time I visited home, hobbling on crutches with an empty pant leg.

Hearing Jonny's story, I felt a wave of fear wash over me.

"Damn it, they sold me a haunted car! I'm going to settle this right now!"

I jumped up, ready to confront the car dealership owner. But looking out at the pitch-black night, I hesitated.

"Maybe I'll wait until tomorrow."

The next morning, I skipped breakfast and headed straight to the entrance of Grand Prosperity Secondhand Cars.

I arrived too early; the place wasn't open yet. But since it's privately owned, the boss might live inside. I kicked the door a few times.

"Who's there?"

After a few kicks, a man's voice shouted, and soon the door opened, revealing the owner with his bald head sticking out.

Without a word, I punched him in the chest, causing him to stagger back several steps.

The owner reacted quickly, grabbing a mop and pointing it at me, cursing, "What the hell are you doing?

Looking for trouble?"

"I'm here to cause trouble, you shameless swindler! Selling any car you can get your hands on. Watch me wreck your shop today."

Hearing my words, the owner threw the mop to the ground and slumped into a chair. "These days, I'm not intimidated by your tough act. Go ahead, destroy everything, even if it means paying with your life.

If not, I'll just go house-hunting this afternoon."

His shameless attitude stopped me in my tracks. I pointed outside, "How do you explain the haunted car?"

The owner glanced outside, then back at me. "Oh, it's you."

So he finally recognized me.

I asked, "Did someone die in that car?"

His expression turned strange. "How would I know? I'm just a middleman."

He didn't deny it.

"From what you're saying, you knew something was wrong with the car.

Why didn't you tell me when I bought it?"

Still upset about the punch, he replied irritably, "Do I need to spell everything out?

In our business, cars with a history of accidents are common. I buy low and sell low. Didn't you have any idea?

If the car were clean, wouldn't I sell it for three hundred thousand?"

I was furious. "So now it's my fault for not understanding?"

He said, "Not blaming you. I've sold many cars like this, and no one else has complained."

"You think I'm lying?"

I realized he didn't believe me, thinking I was making a fuss.

Since that was the case, I decided to wait there until nightfall. I would tie him up and make him see the ghost with his own eyes.

The owner threatened to call the police if I didn't leave.

I told him to go ahead; I was planning to report his deceitful practices anyway.

He was at a loss and asked what I wanted.

I said, "Either get rid of the ghost or refund my money and compensate me for the mental distress. If this isn't resolved, I'm staying here."

Seeing I was serious, he frowned. "You mean there's really a ghost?"

"Would I lie about something like this?

Tell me, what happened with that car?"

"I really don't know.

I saw it had been repaired in many places and was priced low, so I asked. The original owner didn't hide it, said there'd been an accident. I figured it might have been fatal, but it's not something you can ask about in detail."

After explaining, he asked, "What kind of ghost is it?

How does it haunt?"

I recounted the haunting experience to him.

He was scared too and said, "This kind of thing really happens? How about I find a spiritual expert for you?

There's one in our village who specializes in this. When I was scared as a kid, he was the one who helped me recover from a fright."

True to his word, he took out his phone and called the spiritual expert. "Grandpa, it's Sebastian."

It took a while for Grandpa to remember who Sebastian was and asked what was going on. Sebastian explained the haunting and invited him over.

Grandpa said he was busy but assured him it was simple. When people die, their spirits linger because of unfinished business. Help her resolve it, and she'll leave. Ask her tonight what her unfulfilled wish is.

"How do I ask?"

"Can't you see her through the glass? Ask through the glass or use a mirror."

"Just ask directly?

But she's... a ghost."

Sebastian whimpered.

Grandpa scolded him, "What are you afraid of? You've seen her before. If she wanted to harm you, you'd be gone by now."

With that, the call ended.

Sebastian looked at me, holding the phone weakly. "What should we do?"

I said, "Didn't he explain it?

Tonight, ask her why she hasn't left."

Sebastian gritted his teeth. "Fine, but you have to come with me."

Sebastian was quite timid. At eleven at night, he sat in the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white with tension.

I wasn't much better, sitting in the passenger seat, my palms sweaty. We both stared at the rearview mirror, waiting for almost an hour. As midnight approached, the ghost hadn't appeared. Sebastian started to crack."Maybe we should think of another way.

This is too nerve-wracking."

I said, "It's too late..."

But I couldn't finish. In the mirror, a woman slowly appeared, clearer than the night before. She wore white, had long hair, blood on her face and clothes, sitting rigidly in the middle of the back seat, staring straight ahead. In the rearview mirror, it looked like she was making eye contact with us.

"Ma'am, every grievance has its source, every debt its debtor.

Your death... has nothing to do with me..."

Sebastian was dumbfounded, forgetting his prepared lines, stammering through an impromptu speech.

I was slightly better, remembering our purpose. I shifted my gaze from the mirror, steadied myself, and said, "The living and the dead are different. Once someone dies, they should move on.

Are you staying because of unfinished business?"

"Help me."

The ghost spoke, her voice ethereal, almost unreal, like something out of a TV show. It seemed TV wasn't entirely fictional.

"What do you want us to do?

We'll try our best to help," I said, bracing myself.

"I want you to find out if my death was truly an accident or if someone tampered with it."

"You suspect someone?" I asked.

"I suspect someone with the surname Bai," she said.

The ghost told us her name was Cathy, and the person she suspected was her husband, Vernon, who was a husband who lives with his wife's family.

Cathy's father has been running a hardware factory for over thirty years, and their family business is quite prosperous. Cathy is their only daughter, so the family planned to find someone to help her manage the business.

Cathy mentioned that Vernon was originally her father's driver. He was tall, handsome, and clever, though he came from a poor rural background with two brothers.

Cathy's father thought Vernon was suitable for joining the family and, after observing him for three years, introduced him to Cathy.

Initially, Cathy didn't have feelings for him, but she couldn't resist Vernon's deeply devoted affection and eventually got together with him.

A year later, Cathy became pregnant.

This spring, on the day of remembrance for Cathy's grandmother, the family planned to visit the gravesite to pay their respects. Vernon was supposed to go too, but he suddenly claimed he had something to do and couldn't make it. So, Cathy's father drove Cathy and her mother himself. That day, the car lost control halfway and plunged into a deep ditch.

At the time, Cathy was six months pregnant. Sitting in the back seat without a seatbelt, she didn't survive the crash.

After becoming a ghost, Cathy couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. How could a new car suddenly lose control?

And why was Vernon, who always centered his life around their family, absent that day?

She suspected that the accident might have been orchestrated by Vernon.

"He used to be a mechanic. Later, when his boss quit, he was introduced to my dad as a driver. If he wanted to tamper with the car, it wouldn't be difficult for him," Cathy said quietly.

"You're overthinking it. You were carrying his child. Even the fiercest animals protect their young. He wouldn't harm his own child, would he?"

I said, glancing back discreetly. The back seat was empty, yet we could only see her through reflections.

I realized that reflective surfaces were our medium to see her.

In the mirror, the ghost's loose dress revealed a bulging belly. She was indeed pregnant, a double tragedy of mother and unborn child.

The ghost shook her head gently and said, "I can't be sure it was him, but I have a feeling. Help me investigate. If you don't, I'll haunt you forever."

I replied, "I'd like to help, but how do I investigate?

It's been so long. Why don't you go haunt Vernon and ask him yourself?"

Cathy said, "If I could, I would have already. For some reason, I can't leave this car. If I move more than a few meters away, an inexplicable force pulls me back. You're the only one who can help me now."

I didn't respond.

Cathy had been dead for almost half a year, and the car had been repaired and sold to me. Finding evidence in the car was impossible. But where else could I start investigating?

I couldn't just confront Vernon and ask if he killed his wife and child.

"Waah... waah..."

As Cathy cried and lamented, a baby's cry suddenly echoed in the car, clear and unmistakable.

The sudden sound startled us.

Where did the baby come from?!

The next moment, I remembered Cathy's belly. Looking through the rearview mirror, I saw her belly, hidden under the loose dress, moving as if the child inside was trying to break free.

"My poor child...

It's my fault for not protecting you..."

Cathy cried even harder, and the baby's cries matched hers, turning from loud wails to chilling screams, sending shivers down our spines.

"Can you stop crying?

It's... it's terrifying," I said, trying to muster courage.

Cathy seemed not to hear me. I saw black mist seeping from her belly, and despite the closed windows, a cold wind blew inside the car, dropping the temperature. The eerie atmosphere was heightened by the ghostly cries.

I panicked, breaking into a cold sweat. It seemed like a vengeful spirit was about to appear. What should I do?

Maybe I should run.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, the boss banged on the car door, apparently thinking the same. But for some reason, the door wouldn't open!

"Don't leave, help me... help me..."

Cathy, who had been sitting in the back seat, suddenly stood up, reaching out to grab the boss and me.

We were terrified, screaming and swatting at Cathy's hands, only to find we were hitting nothing but air. We couldn't touch her at all.

Her hand quickly wrapped around my neck, icy cold and strong, choking me until I almost blacked out.

Fortunately, the sensation disappeared after about ten seconds. I felt my neck loosen, and when I looked in the mirror, Cathy was gone. The back seat was empty, and the car was eerily silent.

"She's gone," I said after a while, my voice breaking, sounding high-pitched like a eunuch on TV.

"Finally gone," the boss slumped in his seat, "I was scared out of my wits."

He wasn't exaggerating; the car reeked of urine.

In the early morning streets, two grown men supported each other, their legs shaky and unsteady.

"Do you believe me now?

You almost got us killed," I said, lying on the boss's bed, staring at the ceiling, still shaken.

"Maybe I should sell it to another dealership tomorrow," the boss suggested, his voice trembling, still not recovered.

"You heartless person, do as you said," I conceded, deciding to get rid of the car before it cost us our lives.

But plans never keep up with changes. Early the next morning, the boss received a call from Great Uncle, "How did it go?

Is it resolved?"

"It's not resolved. We almost died," the boss said on speakerphone. "Didn't you say it wouldn't be dangerous?

Why did she suddenly change and bring out a little ghost?"

"A little ghost?" Great Uncle's voice turned serious. "Where did the little ghost come from?"

"From her belly."

"Hiss..."

Great Uncle took a sharp breath on the other end. "Was she pregnant?

Why didn't you say so earlier?"

"How was I supposed to know..."

"Enough, stop talking. Tell me exactly what happened last night," Great Uncle interrupted, asking for details.