Horror Short Story | Helmet

As Shen Jing rode his motorcycle home from work, he stopped at an intersection for a red light. A motorcycle pulled up beside him. The rider wore a full-face helmet with a black visor, obscuring their face. Shen Jing glanced over and thought the helmet looked very old, like a model from over a decade ago. When the light turned green, the other motorcycle pulled away first. Shen Jing followed, noticing the rider was going very slowly, always maintaining a position ahead of him. At the next intersection, the other motorcycle stopped. Shen Jing stopped too. The rider turned their head and looked at him through the black visor. Shen Jing felt a chill run down his spine. As soon as the light turned green, he accelerated and left. After riding for two blocks, he checked his rearview mirror and saw the helmet still behind him, at the same distance and same speed. He started to speed up, darting into narrow alleys and making several turns. In the rearview mirror, the helmet was gone. He let out a sigh of relief and slowed down. That's when he realized he had another helmet on his head. It was a full-face helmet with a black visor. He reached out to take it off, but the buckle was stuck and wouldn't budge no matter how hard he tried. On the inside of the visor, a line of text appeared, as if written with a fingertip on fog: "You've worn 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. A faded photograph was stuck to the dashboard. In the photo, a young man wearing the same model of helmet was smiling at the camera. The date next to the photo read: fifteen years ago. He kept riding. He couldn't stop. The motorcycle moved forward on its own, passing through roads he had never traveled, finally stopping in front of a motorcycle shop. The metal gate was half open, and a light was on inside. An old man walked out.