Bogleech.com's 2016 Horror Write-off:

The Driver

Submitted by James B. Davis

His brittle teeth were falling apart, his nose was bleeding, and his eyes were red from exhaustion. His hair was short and grey like the color in his eyes. His skin was dry and cracking from age. His legs were so long that his knees were pushed up to his chest while driving. His arms were so long that his elbows pressed against the windows. His red pinstripe suit was dirty and falling apart. His shoes were too long and fit loosely on his feet. However, even with his weak form, a long and wild grin adorned his face.


"There is a house in New Orleans

They call the Risin' Sun

And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy

And me, oh god, I know I'm one"


The machine he drove was from a time long gone: a wheeled motormachine with worn paint and tires. It left long tracks in the dirt and blew the dust away behind it. It's lights shone bright in the night time and it's bare metal lite up in the sun. But still, the rust and wear was part of it's charm and magic.


"My mother was a tailor

She sewed these new blue jeans

My sweetheart was a gambler, lord

Down in New Orleans"


The Driver drove down the barren landscape searching for his treasure: the treasure of things long lost and gone. It seemed like the only thing that kept him driving was this quest for his treasure.The relics and remnants of those who left.


"Now the only thing a gambler needs

Is a suitcase and a trunk

And the only time he's satisfied

Is when he's on a drunk"


He passed through the ruins of the old world; through cities of long ago, through suburban wastelands, through conquested cul-de-sacs. The Driver collected his treasures along the way; placing them gently in the enormous trailer that was pulled behind his vehicle. Still though, however much he collected he was never finished.


"He fills his glasses up to the brim

And he'll pass the cards around

And the only pleasure he gets out of life

Is ramblin' from town to town"


Then The Driver saw it... a house.


"Oh tell my baby sister

Not to do what I have done

But shun that house in New Orleans

They call the Risin' Sun"


The house was burned to the ground and dead. 5 bodies laid across the lawn blackened by flames and dust. One child sat alone among the ruins and death . She looked up, tears dropping from her eyes, as The Driver's motor vehicle approached. She was in grief stricken awe when she saw it; she had never seen a machine move on wheels without the aid of Growlers or Horses.


"Well, it's one foot on the platform

And the other foot on the train

I'm goin' back to new Orleans

To wear that ball and chain"


The Driver's machine stopped and he emerged. His long and lanky form unfurled like a spider from the door of his vehicle; the hair under his fedora flickered in the wind and his black lensed glasses shimmered in the sun.


"I'm a-goin' back to New Orleans

My race is almost run

I'm goin' back to end my life

Down in the risin' sun"


Slowly and gracefully The Driver glided over the dusty ground and picked up the burnt bodies. He lifted them gently and with a very careful manner before loading them into his trailer. As the last body was hoisted into the trailer The Driver looked down at the crying girl; he patted her head shooting her an impossibly wide smile. He then left... singing his lonely song... continuing his search...


"There is a house in New Orleans

They call the Risin' Sun

And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy

And me, oh god, I know I'm one"