Horror Short Story | Helmet

Shen Jing was riding his motorcycle home from work and stopped at an intersection for a red light. A motorcycle pulled up next to him. The rider was wearing a full-face helmet with a black visor, obscuring their face. Shen Jing glanced over and thought 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, always staying just ahead of him. At the next intersection, the other motorcycle stopped. Shen Jing stopped too. The rider turned their head, looking at him through the dark visor. Shen Jing felt a chill crawl up 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, at the same speed. He started accelerating, ducking into alleys and making several sharp turns. In the rearview mirror, the helmet was gone. He let out 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 black visor. He reached up to take it off, but the buckle was jammed shut, impossible to open. Something appeared on the inside of the visor, like words written in condensation: "You wore my hat, now 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. Taped to the dashboard was a faded photograph of a young man wearing the same model of helmet, smiling at the camera. The date next to the photo read fifteen years ago. He kept riding, unable to stop. The motorcycle moved forward on its own, passing through roads he'd never taken, 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.