Always write them down.

Heavy rain pattered my windshield as I waited at a stoplight on the way to visit a friend of mine. The red light that halted my movement shone brightly through the blurred front portal of my vehicle. I was the only one at the light, waiting to cross into another part of the rural and desolate area. The radio blared inconsistently and cutout when lightning shined overhead. I fiddled with the dials of the radio as I waited.

The pale green screen of the radio read 7:08. I pressed the ‘seek’ button; the display showed the numbers 87.3. Faint oldies began playing through my quieted speakers. I turned up the volume. Simon and Garfunkel’s Sound of Silence filled the interior of my car, slightly dampening the sounds of the rain outside. I looked up through my sunroof to see that the sky had darkened further.

My eyes shifted back to the stoplight. Still red.

I glanced at the time on the radio. 7:10. Sighing, I grabbed my phone from one of the cup-holders and checked my inbox. Nothing. I had no cell service in this area. Only farms and crops populated this section of the town. There was no need for cell towers when there were phone lines that ran parallel to the road.

I pressed the ‘lock’ button on my phone and threw it on the empty passenger seat next to me. A small cloud of dust puffed from the seat where it was impacted.

The fast food cup that sat in the other cup-holder beckoned to me. I grabbed it and shook it needlessly. There was only watery soda waiting at the bottom of the cup.

The clock’s time changed to 7:11. The light was still red.

Frustrated and low on patience, I inched the car forward and checked the intersection. There were no cars approaching from either direction. I debated running the light, but as soon as the thought left my mind the light turned green.

Smiling, I stepped on the accelerator lightly to prevent my car from spinning out. Soon I was on my way.

The Sound of Silence faded as the radio station transitioned to another song. I believe it was Riders on the Storm by The Doors.

I looked to my left and right as I continued to drive. The rain now seemingly pattering my car from all directions. Farmland was all I saw. Full of crops of corn and cotton. A small house zoomed by as I drove.

The road in front of me became barely visible as the rain’s intensity increased yet again. I slowed my car to prevent myself from driving into a ditch. Or a cow.

Suddenly the radio cut from The Doors to the emergency broadcast announcement.

“…bzzt…Warn-.. there is a sto-… -oachin-… Heavy wi- of …-ty miles per hou-… Be advis-…”

Suddenly, the voice of the announcer changed, the message more clear, ” Turn around now or die. I repeat. Turn around now, or die. This is not a test.”

The radio abruptly switched back to The Doors.

The message of the broadcast was clear. Turn around now or die.

I was not sure if I was being directly advised. Maybe I had run into a military broadcast for a base advising civilians not to approach. Or a pirate broadcast may have made it to my antenna. Several possibilities passed through my mind as I continued toward my desination. I admit that I was a bit frightened, but not enough to heed the advice of the radio.

Suddenly the radio switched again, this time the voice more frantic, panicked. The announcer was now yelling, “DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? JUST LISTEN TO ME AND TURN AROUND. YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE IN THE AREA, YOU MUST LISTEN TO ME. BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE. TURN ARO-…”

The broadcast was cut off again, this time in favor of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody.

At this point, I was genuinely concerned. I glanced at my radio’s clock again. 7:18. I grabbed my cell phone. Still no bars, no service. I was utterly alone, except for Freddie Mercury’s booming voice and the broadcast man who had warned me.

Against my better instincts I continued to drive. The rain had become denser. However, I knew that I was close when I saw a road sign, “Ubly 10.”

I heard a noise above the sound of the rain. A groan, almost pained. It reminded me of the sounds blue whales make to communicate. The ground rumbled, yet I saw no lightning.

The radio quipped again, this time the voice smooth and cynical, “I told you so.”

The station clicked and was now silent. I turned off my radio.

Another rumble shook the ground, this time closer to my car. The rain now impossible to see through. Suddenly, a large black object appeared that blocked the entirety of the small country road. I barely braked in time to avoid it, but my car slid off the road violently. Luckily, I was going slow enough that my car came to a stop against a tree without causing the airbags to deploy.

The pained groan now echoed above my car. I looked up through my sunroof. My eyes widened in fright. A large, silhouetted object loomed over my car, like a boy playing with a toy car. One of its appendages reached for my vehicle. The rain seemed to intensify, as though the rain were coming from the creature itself.

Without thinking, I unbuckled my seatbelt as I grabbed my phone and opened my car door. For whatever reason I glanced at my car’s clock. Strangely, the numbers were beginning to reverse themselves.

My mind did not register this as I ran from my car. The rain deafening around me. I glanced back to see that my car was no longer sitting on the ground, but was floating high in the air. The creature roared as it seemed to eat my car. I kept running.

However, the country roads were not kind to my feet as I attempted to run. I slipped on the pavement and fell face first.

My head ached as I attempted to stand up. Warmth caressed my face. Blood streamed down a crack in my forehead. Soon, I felt the presence of the creature above me. I felt myself being picked up as I saw the road fade into the distance.

A few moments later, I looked down through my foggy vision to see that I was now being held above an abyss, far above the ground. However, there was no rain around me at this point. Only on my back, where I was being held by the grasp of the creature. I was above it. I gasped when I realized that the creature was the cause of the rain.

The sun shined on the back of my head as I was engulfed in the abyss.

All I could see was darkness. The floor beneath my feet was solid, yet somehow felt as though it were made of liquid.

A lamp lit up a few feet away from me. A face emerged from the darkness. The man was bald. Eyes gaunt. His face thin.

“I told you so,” said the man. His voice identical to the man’s from the announcement. He began to laugh hysterically.

The lamp cut out and I was immersed in darkness. His laughter faded into the distance.