Well, of all my stories, this is the only one that I feel inspired to update right now. (I'm in an extroardinarily mischievous mood today, and my other tales are mostly serious.)
Here's another classic campfire tale/urban legend.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, a door.
"You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension— a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You've just crossed over into the AspenZone."
(Insert Twilight Zone theme here)
You're about to meet your average young girl: Sierra Cody, sixteen years old, a student at Memorial High School.
"Vince, we missed the exit. I think you're music's on too loud." "Huh?" The red-haired boy cups a hand to his ear and pretends he can't understand the girl in the seat next to him. "I can't hear you!" Sierra scowls and crosses her arms. "Why did I ever agree to this?" she mutters, turning to look out the window.
.Recently the witness of a disturbing event, Miss Cody is now afraid of her own car. She takes the bus to school in the mornings, but the afternoons are somewhat trickier. Today, Sierra has finally given in and is allowing local hotshot Vince to drive her home. Little does she know, they've just taken a detour through the Aspen Zone...
Vince winks at Sierra, hoping he looks roguish and daring. "No worries, babe. Just taking the scenic route! I'll have you home in time for dinner." Sierra makes a private vow to herself that she will never, ever do this again. "Did you seriously just call me babe?" she growls, turning to send a green-eyed glare at the driver. Thankfully, the braggart is actually focused on the road more than his pretty passenger. "Aw, lighten up, Sierra!" Vince laughs, "It was just a joke."
Sierra pulls her knees up to her chest and tucks her chin down. Vince looks over at her and frowns, concerned. "Sierra, you okay? I won't call you babe again if you don't want me to: promise." The young woman mutters a "thanks", and tightens her grip around her knees. "No seriously," Vince asks, "What's wrong? Darby isn't bugging you, is he? I'd totally beat him up for you, y'know." Miss Cody frowns at this. "You'd totally beat him up anyway, Vince. You're kind of a jerk, and I'm only riding with you because my car isn't...safe." Vince shrugs and returns his attention to the road. He's not worried: he plans to have her wrapped around his little finger by the next hour.
The black and orange muscle car turns down the road that Vince and Jack had once raced on, near the mesas. In the sideview mirror, Sierra catches sight of a light blue semi behind them and her heartbeat accelerates. "Vince, speed up!" she whispers. "Sorry, what?" Vince glances at her out of the corner of his eye. The girl pastes a smile on her pale face and cocks her head at him. "You're not going to let a semi pass us, are you?" Vince revs the engine in response, and the car roars ahead. They whip past a large collection of mesas, raising the dust, and begin to head back to town as the sun sets.
Suddenly, the hot rod begins to slow down. "Ah, come on," Vince mutters, (convincingly, he hopes), and pushes the pedals harder. "Vince, it's getting dark," Sierra says, suddenly suspicious. She's a smart girl, she can tell that Vince is stepping on the brake pedal, not the gas pedal. "I swear, I don't know what's wrong with this thing, Sierra," Vince tries to look earnest. He shifts the car into park and gets out. "Here, you can listen to the radio or something, I'm gonna check the engine." Sierra lets out a "hmph!" and puts her hiking boots up on the dashboard the instant the door closes.
Idly flicking on the radio, she happens to catch a news report regarding a wanted man on the run from the law, armed and possibly deranged...and in their area of the country. Sierra gulps and remembers the man who had been in the backseat of her car so recently. While she sits inside, Vince has been pretending to fix something in the engine. A price worth paying for a chance to woo Sierra Cody, he thinks. Suddenly, the object of his affections is frantically tapping on the window. "Hey, what's up?" he asks, sliding into the driver's seat. "Listen to the news," she answers grimly. Be advised, ex-colonel Leland Bishop is mentally unstable and of a violent nature. He was last seen heading for the Jasper area, and may be carrying a hunting knife or a boat hook as a weapon.
It is now completely dark out, and Vince is beginning to think his plan was a bad one. "Vince, I wanna go home!" Sierra demands, "We should've been there hours ago anyway!" Then they hear a strange, metallic, scraping noise. It comes closer, and closer. "Go!" Sierra screams, clutching her bookbag to her chest. Vince steps on the gas and the car lurches and fishtails to the side, as if caught on something. At last, they break free and tear out of the desert, back towards civilization. Shaken, he drops Sierra off at her house. As he's about to pull away from the curb, the girl shrieks and points to the car door.
Hanging from the handle is a huge metal hook.
Back at the airforce base, Wheeljack hisses in sympathy, looking at his commander's hand. "Ouch, Chief! How'd you manage to lose a finger?" The stoic soldier grits his teeth and mutters, "That kid's going to get herself killed one of these days!"
You have witnessed Sierra Cody, age sixteen: afraid of snakes, the dark, and now automobiles and madmen. Justified? You be the judge. Things are always more than meets the eye in...the Aspen Zone.