Vanishing Hitchhiker Novels & Stories

Vincenzo… He hesitated but ultimately stayed at home. "Got it." My voice was steady, almost flat, but tears came without warning anyway. I knew it. I'd lost the gamble. "Stick to the plan." I hung up, letting the "abductors" steer me into a van parked by the curb. We headed straight toward the abandoned docks on the edge of town. There, I took the vial of chicken blood Giuseppe had prepared and smeared it on my silk scarf. Then, I tossed it into the churning sea.

LIVIA (CHIARA) I don’t decide to disappear in a single moment. People like to believe vanishing is dramatic — a suitcase thrown open, a door slammed, a final look over the shoulder. But disappearance, real disappearance, is quieter. It starts as an itch under the skin. A tightening in the throat when you hear your name spoken in the wrong mouth. A pattern of footsteps that returns too often to be chance. It starts as certainty. Tonight, the certainty arrives as a call that doesn’t ring. The screen simply wakes, and the number appears as if it has always been there, waiting behind my reflection. No caller ID, just a line of digits that my body recognizes before my mind does. I don’t answer ri

“I was in the back of a van; it had no windows, and I could not see the driver from where I was lying. I have no memory of what happened before being placed in the back. I was being jostled about like a rag doll on the cold metal floor, and I was in so much pain; my head hurt, and so did my arm, which was at an odd angle, telling me it was most likely broken; I tried to move it so it was not hurting as much. The van was traveling at speed, not giving a care about me being thrown about in the back. I am not sure how long we traveled. I blacked out for a while, and when I came to, I could hear voices. A large man, rough looking, six-foot-three, built like a wrestler, opened the back of the van

The screeching tires echoed through the air, drowning out the sounds of honking horns and frantic shouts. Vihaan's heart hammered in his chest as he lunged towards the bus, With an adrenaline-fueled burst of strength, he reached out, his fingertips barely grazing the surface. It seemed like an eternity as his desperate plea for intervention hung in the balance. Then, in a moment of sheer luck and determination, Vihaan's fingers found purchase on the bus's side mirror. He pulled himself up with all his might, his muscles straining against the weight of his body. Each second felt like an eternity as he fought against gravity, inching closer to the entrance.

"And then?" The assistant swallowed and continued, "The van didn’t reappear until 4 p.m., when it showed up in front of Adams University. After that… well, we all saw what happened." "And the van itself?" Zachary’s voice was dangerously cold. The assistant shook his head. "It vanished on the South Ring Road. The license plate was a fake. We haven’t been able to trace it."

Straight into the waiting portal. "Rhye," Lily screamed, crawling on her hands and knees, as Garnald vanished into the shimmering mist, still entangled with the enraged werewolf. Oh, my God. She reached out, her fingertips brushing across the tip of Rhye's hefty foot as the gateway surged, blazed, and then vanished with an audible snap. Lily found herself alone in the darkness, staring at the point where Rhye had vanished as if expecting him to come out of thin air. Christ. He has vanished. He was completely gone. And she had no hope in hell of following him.

At the bus station, an exhausted cleaner remembers a barefoot man asking for directions, voice trembling, at the dock a fisherman remembers a man staggering out of the trees and collapsing near the pier. It’s all fragments and contradictions, and most of them aren't even of Daniel, just random people. No one saw the white van clearly and no one saw any plates. Marlow’s phone rings. He answers, listens, swears, then drops the phone like it’s a hot coal. “It’s...” he starts. “No trace of the van on any of the highway cameras. One camera shows us a shadow at the tree line… then nothing.” Flan slams a fist on the table. “You call those bastards and tell them we sent him as planned!”

Kevin, never one to shy away from theatrics, dramatically declared, "Let's vanish into thin air, Vasky!" ‌ With that, they disappeared into the mist, leaving the security team coughing and sputtering in their attempts to follow. Agent Harris couldn't help but shake her head in amazement. "These guys are like something out of a spy movie. Stay together, and keep your wits about you!" ‌ As the pursuit continued, the four thieves regrouped in a hidden corner, their laughter echoing through the corporate corridors. They couldn't help but revel in the absurdity of their situation.

"What's your name?" The question caught her off guard, but she didn't answer directly. "You don't need to know my name. Your injury is serious—you should go to a hospital." The man chuckled, his deep voice carrying a magnetic charm under the night sky. "Remember this—I'm Hedro Bianco." With that, his men guided him into a sleek car waiting nearby. Vanessa stayed put, watching the car disappear into the night before she finally left the alley. The night had been chaos, but she didn't dwell on it. Alone, she headed home.

Coco had come to stand behind me, yet she dared not say anything. Meanwhile, in the video, the van sped off, but not before I caught a partial license plate. That was all I needed. Jack burst into the room, his usual smirk gone, replaced by something cold. “Got the guys ready. What do we know?” I replayed the footage, my voice a low growl. “Black van. Partial plate. Headed east. Find it.” I said, and he nodded. But even after searching for a whole day, nothing could be found. It seemed as though the van had never been owned by anyone at all. It just vanished into thin air, taking Sarah along with it.