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 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, maintaining their position 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 black visor. Shen Jing felt a chill run down his spine. As soon as the light turned green, he accelerated and sped off. After two blocks, he checked his rearview mirror and saw the helmet was still behind him, at the same distance and speed. He started to speed up, ducking 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 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 stuck, refusing to budge no matter how hard he pulled. Inside the visor, a line of text appeared, as if written by a finger on fog: "You wore my helmet, so you have to finish the ride for me." Shen Jing froze, remembering the rider from earlier. He looked down at his motorcycle; it wasn't his. On the dashboard was a faded photograph of a young man wearing the same style of helmet, 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'd never taken, finally stopping in front of a motorcycle shop. The metal gate was half-open, with a light on inside. An old man walked out.