Flash Fiction – Hitchhiker

When I saw her, she was standing alone on the side of the road in the dark. When I pulled over, she got in without saying anything. She hung her head low covering her face with her long brown hair. 

“Where are you going?” I asked turning back onto the road.

I noticed she had blood on her shirt and hands. Any normal person would have been scared. It was very unlikely that we could both be serial killers. More than likely, I would just finish what someone else had started or just one less murderer in the world.

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