Creature of the Night
Marc was trying his best not to fall asleep. The forth coffee had already been consumed, but he didn't seem to feel its effect. He had to be home in the morning, by all means, so his truck kept going along the road, absolutely deserted due to the late hour. Suddenly he saw a light at the turn. Marc winked, he thought he was falling asleep. He was pretty sure that there could hardly be anyone here at this time, taking into consideration the fact that the nearest town was ten miles away. But despite all these sober conclusions, he saw a girl, standing by the road and waving.
Marc stopped the truck right opposite her. He could now see her clearly: long white gown, lace-up sleeves, dark hair, framing her delicate face. She approached the truck hesitantly, opened the door and asked quietly, "Could you please take me to a nearest town?" "Sure thing, miss," said Marc, helping her get into the truck. "Here. It's for you," he gave her a bunch of flowers he bought a few hours before. The bunch was originally meant for his wife. "Oh," said the girl. "Thank you so much!"
It was nice talking to her, and a few minutes later Marc new her name was Katrina, and that she was returning from a picnic. When he asked why she was returning so late, alone, she answered that her friends forgot about her and left while she was gathering wild flowers. She was on the point of walking off on foot, having lost all hopes for a car, but... .
Half-an-hour later they approached a small wooden house by the road, where Katrina said she lived with her mother. The sun was already rising, and she invited him in to drink a cup of tea and have breakfast. Hardly had the truck stopped, when Katrina jumped out and ran to the house. Marc throttled down the motor, checked the tires and followed her. To his surprise, the door was locked. He knocked. Nobody answered. He knocked again. In a few minutes the door opened, and an old lady appeared. She was wearing a sleeping-gown and a bathrobe. She looked at him inquiringly. "Katrina?" said Marc, quite dazzled. Her face grew sad. She looked at him in a strange manner, and then took out of her pocket a yellowish sheet of paper and gave it to Marc.
He read the words in bold type: "Katrina Joan Morgan died last night during a picnic by the lake. The burial ceremony is held today." Looking at the date, he understood it was about 20 years ago. "It happens so every time," said the old lady. "Every year, at the anniversary. She returns home and disappears. She was buried there, near the lake. Here are the pictures, look..." She showed him a picture of Katrina and friends, and then of Katrina dead, she was in her coffin, wearing the same dress she did when he met her. "Drink some tea, if you want," said the old lady. But Marc didn't care for tea. She remembered the place where he picked her very well... .
The truck was moving at lightning speed. He was going along the deserted morning highway, and the sun was rising against him. Soon, after the turn, he saw the place where she had been. Marc stopped the car and got out, right into the reeds. At first the soil was swampy, but then he felt it growing firmer under his feet. He ran into a small glade and stopped. in the middle of it, he saw a grave. The tombstone was made of white marble. Black letters surrounded Katrina's picture - it was her, no doubt. They read, "Katrina Joan Morgan, 20. We remember you..." Reading it, he didn't notice a small object at once. It was lying on the tombstone, the bunch of lowers he had given her last night...
Original Author: Undertaker (1998).