It was raining heavily that night — like the heavens had opened up.
It was past 11 PM. Ravi, a long-distance truck driver, was about to pull into a rest stop outside Nagpur when he saw them — a woman and a child huddled under a tree by the roadside.
The woman clutched the little boy tightly, both soaked through a flimsy raincoat.
Ravi hit the brakes hard, rolled down the window, and called out:
“Ma’am, hop in! You’ll fall sick standing there in this rain!”
The woman bowed her head slightly, her voice barely audible:
“Just a few kilometers to the next fuel station… My son has a high fever.”
Ravi nodded, wiped the seat with a towel, and welcomed them in.
The child lay motionless on her shoulder, breathing heavily.
Twenty minutes into the ride, Ravi’s phone started buzzing nonstop — notifications from the drivers’ WhatsApp group:
“🚨🚨 URGENT ALERT: Truck with plate MH-12-2XXXX is wanted for kidnapping a child.
Report immediately if spotted!”
Ravi’s heart stopped.
That was his truck.
He glanced at the rearview mirror — the child was now wide-eyed, staring at him without blinking.
The mother stayed silent, clutching a brown fabric bag tightly.
And from the edge of the bag…
a faint red stain seeped out.
Ravi instantly pulled over, turned around to speak—
But the back seat was empty.
No child.
No woman.
No bag.
Nothing.
Just damp seat cushions… and a few long strands of hair clinging to the headrest.
Shaking, Ravi checked the dashcam footage.
The video showed him — talking, smiling, even turning on music.
But… he was alone the whole time.
No woman.
No child.
That very night, Ravi drove to the nearest police station and reported everything.
But what chilled everyone to the bone was this:
Twenty years ago, on that very stretch of road, a mother and her young son had been left behind in a storm by a passing truck driver.
They died from fever and exhaustion — abandoned, alone.
Since then, multiple drivers have claimed to encounter a woman and child asking for a ride…
Only to disappear moments later.
Ravi quit driving the very next day.
But every time it rains, he still hears the cold, wet whisper near his ear:
“Thank you for stopping…
But you were 20 years too late…”
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