Horror Short Story | Helmet

Shen Jing was riding his motorcycle home from work and stopped at a traffic light. A motorcycle pulled up next to him. The rider was wearing a full-face helmet with a blacked-out visor, so his face was hidden. Shen Jing glanced over and noticed the helmet looked very old, like something from over a decade ago. When the light turned green, the other motorcycle pulled away first. Shen Jing followed behind, noticing the rider was going very slowly, staying just ahead of him. At the next intersection, the other motorcycle stopped. Shen Jing stopped too. The rider turned his head, looking at Shen Jing through the dark visor. Shen Jing felt a chill run down his spine. As soon as the light turned green, he sped away. After two blocks, he checked his rearview mirror and saw the helmet was still behind him, at the same distance and speed. He started accelerating, ducking into narrow alleys and making several sharp turns. The helmet disappeared from his rearview mirror. He breathed a sigh of relief and slowed down. That's when he realized there was another helmet on his head. It was a full-face helmet with a blacked-out visor. He reached up to take it off, but the buckle was stuck fast and wouldn't budge no matter how hard he pulled. Words appeared on the inside of the visor, as if someone had written them with a fingertip on fog: "You're wearing my helmet now, so you have to finish riding for me." Shen Jing froze, remembering the rider from earlier. He looked down at his motorcycle – it wasn't his. A faded photograph was stuck to the dashboard. In the photo, a young man wearing the same style of helmet was smiling at the camera. A date was written next to the photo: fifteen years ago. He kept riding, unable to stop. The motorcycle moved forward on its own, passing through roads he'd never traveled, finally stopping in front of a motorcycle repair shop. The metal gate was half open, and a light was on inside. An old man walked out.