The Vanishing Toll Booth Attendant

The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the stretch of highway that wove through the dense forest. The road was silent, save for the occasional howl of a distant wolf. It was here, at the last toll booth before the forest deepened, that drivers often reported strange occurrences. The sign read "Exit 17," but the exit was a mirage, a trick of the mind that left travelers questioning their reality.

Lena had driven this road countless times, her work as a toll booth attendant bringing her face-to-face with the oddities of the highway. She was a solitary woman, with a quiet smile and eyes that seemed to see beyond the veil of the mundane. The other attendants had long since left, finding the job too eerie and the solitude too much to bear. Lena, however, was different. She was drawn to the stories, the whispers of the road, and the ghostly apparitions that seemed to dance in the headlights of passing cars.

One night, as the last car of the evening rolled through, Lena was on duty. The car's headlights flickered, casting long shadows on the concrete. The driver, a young man with a look of urgency, pulled up to the booth. Lena waved him through, her voice calm and steady.

"Goodnight," she called out, but the car didn't move. The driver's window rolled down, and a voice called out, "Wait, I forgot something."

Lena stepped out of the booth, her flashlight cutting through the darkness. She approached the car, her heart pounding with an odd mix of fear and excitement. The driver's eyes were wide, and she could see the reflection of the road's eerie glow in them.

"Is everything alright?" Lena asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The driver reached into the car, and Lena could see him fumbling with something. Suddenly, he handed Lena a small, leather-bound journal. "I found this," he said, his voice trembling. "I think it belongs to you."

Lena took the journal, feeling a strange sense of connection to it. She opened it to find pages filled with cryptic notes and sketches of the road. The final page, however, was blank, save for a single word written in a spidery hand: "Exit."

As the driver drove off, Lena returned to the booth, her mind racing. She opened the journal again, her eyes drawn to the word "Exit." She knew the road was haunted, but this felt different. This felt like a clue, a piece of a puzzle that was slowly revealing itself.

That night, as she sat in the booth, the temperature began to drop. Lena wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stifle the shiver that ran down her spine. She glanced at the journal, the word "Exit" glowing faintly in the moonlight. Suddenly, the wind howled, and the toll booth seemed to sway, as if it were alive.

Lena looked up, her eyes wide with fear. The wind died down, but the chill remained. She felt a presence, a shadowy figure that seemed to hover just beyond her vision. She turned, but saw nothing. The presence was there, though, a cold hand on her shoulder, a whisper in her ear.

"Exit," it said, and Lena's heart leaped into her throat.

The next morning, Lena's body was found in the booth, her eyes wide with terror. The journal was still in her hand, the word "Exit" glowing faintly. The police were baffled. There were no signs of struggle, no evidence of a struggle. It was as if Lena had simply vanished.

The toll booth was closed, the road empty, save for the occasional driver who reported seeing a shadowy figure at the booth, a figure that seemed to beckon them forward. But when they approached, the figure vanished, leaving them to wonder if it was real or a trick of the mind.

The highway remained haunted, its curse deepening with each passing day. And Lena's story, the story of the vanishing toll booth attendant, became the stuff of legend. Drivers spoke of her, whispered her name, hoping to avoid the fate that seemed to await those who dared to cross the threshold of Exit 17.

But for those who did cross, the road's curse was real, and the toll booth attendant's ghost remained, a reminder of the supernatural forces that lurked just beyond the veil of the everyday world.