Noite de Horror: 3 Histórias Reais de Caminhoneiros | Relatos Reais Ep.22

My name is João Batista, I'm 45 years old and I've been a truck driver for over 20 years. Brazilian, originally from Paraná, I've driven on almost all the roads in this country. I've never been one to believe in hauntings or anything like that.

I always thought that the stories that colleagues tell at parades were just to pass the time. But one night, about 3 years ago, something happened to me on BR 262, in Mato Grosso do Sul. It still gives me chills just remembering, it was a Wednesday in October and I was returning from Campo Grande.

It was past midnight when I started to feel tired. My load of grains was destined for Uberaba, Minas Gerais, but the road seemed endless. In that darkness, the sky was closed, without a single star to illuminate the night.

And the only company I had was the constant noise of the engine. It was near Corumbá that I saw a figure on the side of the road. It was a woman even from a distance, I could see that she was wearing a dirty white dress and she was signaling with her hand for me to stop.

At that time, I thought to myself, it's dangerous to stop, but I'm also not going to leave someone alone here. In the middle of Nothing, I pulled over the truck and rolled down the window. Good evening, lady, do you need help?

Good evening, sir. She said, in a low and slightly hoarse voice. Can you take me to the next city?

I looked around and the road was completely deserted. Without thinking much, I agreed, you can go up. She opened the door and entered the cabin.

It had a strange smell to it, something like wet earth and withered flowers. His skin was very pale and his dark hair fell in long strands. Almost covering the face.

My name is João and yours is Ana, he replied after a pause that was too long, we continued our journey in silence. For a while, her presence made me uneasy, but I tried not to think about it. I turned on the radio, but it was associated.

Even my favorite song didn't seem to want to play that night. Do you always travel here? She asked, From Nothing, with a cold voice.

Almost always. And where are you going ? Home, he said, looking at the road ahead, but in a tone that sounded more like a whisper.

Something about her manner didn't seem right. I started to feel uncomfortable, but I continued driving. That's when I realized that, no matter how much time passed, we didn't see any signs or city signs.

I looked at the clock, it was almost 2 am. We should be close to somewhere, Ana, which city do you really want to go to? She didn't respond, just stared out the window, my hand started to sweat on the steering wheel.

The road seemed different, as if I had entered another world, the trees were taller and darker and the fog was beginning to cover the asphalt. Ana, are you okay? I asked, trying to hide my nervousness.

She slowly turned her face and looked at me. It was then that I realized, his eyes were empty, without shine, as if they were 2 black holes. Do you believe in ghosts?

He asked with a smile that seemed to come out of a nightmare. My breath caught, I didn't know what to say. I could only shake my head, without taking my eyes off the road.

Suddenly , she began to laugh, a low, slurred laugh. Which seemed to echo inside the cabin. So why are you afraid?

The truck jerked and the engine started to fail. Not now, for God's sake, not now, I thought. As I tried to maintain control, the cabin became cold, as if the temperature had dropped.

Suddenly, when I looked at the passenger seat again, she was no longer there, Ana. I called out almost in a whisper as I looked around. Nothing, just the silence, the fog and the sound of the engine decreasing until it stops altogether.

I got out of the truck with my heart racing to check. The engine was all fine , but it just wouldn't start. The road was deserted, without a car in sight, and the only light was from my headlights, which were beginning to blink.

It was then that there were slow steps. Drgged as if someone was walking towards the truck. Who 's there?

I screamed, my voice shaking. The footsteps stopped. The fog seemed thicker all around and I couldn't see anything beyond.

A few meters back to the truck, João, I heard her voice coming from somewhere in the darkness. I ran into the cabin and locked the doors. The engine, which had previously not been working, started on its own with a loud roar.

I didn't think twice. I put the car in gear and accelerated as much as I could. The road seemed endless, but after what seemed like an eternity, I saw a sign indicating the entrance to a city.

Miranda about 10 km. The relief was instantaneous, but it was short-lived in the rearview mirror. I saw something that made my blood run cold.

Anna was there, sitting in the backseat, with that macabre smile. Thanks for the ride, João, she said, before disappearing like smoke. Since that day, I avoid driving at night whenever I can.

I don't know who or what Ana was. But I know she wasn't from this world and every time I pass BR 262, I can't help but look at the passenger seat, hoping to never meet that early morning passenger again. My name is Marcos Oliveira, I'm a Brazilian truck driver, born in Minas Gerais and I'm 48 years old.

I spent a good part of my life crossing roads, watching the day come and go from behind the wheel. I always thought that the road has its mysteries, but I never thought that one day I would be the one to tell them. One of those stories that no one believes.

It was about 5 years ago, on a trip along BR 116, known as Rio Bahia. I was taking a load of household appliances from Vitória da Conquista, in Bahia, to Juiz de Fora, in Minas. The trip was peaceful until nightfall.

I've always liked driving at night. Less movement, less problems. But that time things went wrong.

It was already past 2:00 in the morning when I arrived at a section known as the Silence Curve. A famous place among drivers because of the accidents that have happened. There, the curve was sharp, flanked by dense forest , and the only sound was that of the truck's engine.

Suddenly, I saw a figure in the middle of the road. It was a tall man, in a black suit, standing right at the bend, as if he was waiting for someone. I thought to myself, what the hell is someone doing here at this hour?

I slowed down and honked the horn, but he didn't move. As I got closer, I noticed something strange. His face was pale, as if he had no blood running through his veins.

The eyes fixed on me seemed to see beyond. I decided to stop even though I felt a shiver down my spine. I rolled down the window and asked, are you lost, friend?

He smiled strangely and replied in a calm voice, I just need a ride to the next gas station. I hesitated for a moment, but ended up agreeing. He climbed into the cabin and sat next to me, without saying anything else.

The smell he brought with him was strange, something between musty and wet earth. What is your name? I asked, trying to start a conversation.

Antonio, he said, after a long pause. And you? Marcos, do you live around here?

I insisted, I already lived there, but now I only go through these parts. Every now and then something in his tone made me uncomfortable as I drove, I noticed that the temperature inside the cabin had dropped. I was starting to regret stopping, so, Antônio, what were you doing on the road at that time?

I asked, trying to ease the tension, waiting for you. The way he said it gave me chills and I glanced at him. And I swear, for a moment, his eyes looked different, deeper, almost like there was nothing there.

After that, silence took over. The radio, which had been playing softly before, started to hiss and stopped working. All you could hear was the roar of the engine and the sound of the trees swaying in the wind.

Outside , the road seemed longer than usual. As if we were going in circles. When I finally saw the gas station, I felt immediate relief.

Is this where you get off? I asked, already wishing he would go away. He just nodded and got out of the truck without saying a word.

I stayed at the station for a few minutes, wanting to make sure he was really gone. I asked the gas station attendant, a young and friendly guy. You saw a man in a suit who got out of the truck now the attendant looked at me confused, what man, sir?

I didn't see anyone, my heart froze. I got out of the truck and looked around, but there was no sign of Antônio anywhere . I even arrived at the cabin thinking he might have forgotten something, but everything was empty.

When I went to pay for the diesel, the gas station attendant, still curious, asked, are you okay? I look a little pale, yes. Just tired from the road, I lied trying to disguise what I couldn't explain myself.

I got back in the truck and continued my journey. But since that day, every time I pass the curve of silence, I feel the same shiver down my spine and I avoid looking at the passenger seat, fearing that Antônio will be there again waiting for me. The road has its mysteries and some of them are better not to try to understand.

My name is Roberto Almeida. I've been a truck driver for 27 years, I'm 50 years old, I'm Brazilian, born in São Paulo and I can say that I've experienced a lot on the road, I've seen terrible accidents , I've heard stories of hauntings, but I've never experienced anything that made me question my sanity until that night. It was an early morning in June.

At around half past one in the morning, I was on BR 153, in Tocantins, taking a load of wood to Anápolis, in Goiás. The road was long and dark, the kind of stretch where you only see the headlights illuminating the asphalt and the rest seem to be swallowed by darkness. I was calmly listening to a radio program about country music when I noticed something strange in the rear view mirror.

It looked like a pair of headlights coming behind me, but the glow was different, like it was a stronger white, almost bluish. I didn't pay much attention at first. It must be another truck, I thought, but the headlights started approaching too quickly, as if the driver was accelerating without worrying about anything.

Then, suddenly, they disappeared. I looked around and in the rearview mirror again. But there was no sign of the vehicle.

What a strange thing I muttered to myself. Even trying to ignore the shiver that ran up my back, I continued driving, but that feeling of being watched wouldn't let go. It was then that I saw the headlights again, this time closer, illuminating the back of my truck.

The vehicle was so close that I could feel its engine vibrating in the structure of mine. I picked up the radio communicator and tried to speak to the driver. Hey, partner, are you in a hurry?

It's very glued back here. Be careful, silence, no response. I decided to speed up to see if he would give me space, but to my surprise, the headlights continued to follow my pace, maintaining the same distance.

I looked in the rearview mirror again and tried to see the vehicle, but I could only see the headlights. There was no shadow of the hood, the windshield, or anything to indicate what it was after a few minutes of this silent chase. I decided it was best to stop at the next gas station, after all, maybe it was some idiot trying to scare me.

That's when I realized, the next gas station was at least 50 km away. The only thing in front of me was the road and the only thing behind were those headlights. I started to break out in a cold sweat .

The road seemed more deserted than ever. No cars crossed in the opposite direction. Not a light in the distance, nothing but the dark asphalt and tall vegetation on both sides.

Who's there? I asked, almost in a whisper, even though I knew no one could hear me. Suddenly the headlights went out again.

Darkness returned and for a brief moment I thought it was all over. But then I heard a strange noise, something like a whistle coming from outside. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw a huge shadow moving at the speed of my truck, but on the shoulder, my heart skipped a beat.

It wasn't a vehicle, it seemed like something bigger, something I couldn't understand. The lights that were once behind me now seemed to be beside me, but they weren't headlights, they were eyes shining in the darkness. Tracking my speed.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, I repeated, trying to convince myself that it was just my imagination. I accelerated more now, passing 80 km per hour, then 100. But it was still by my side.

Every time I looked out the window, I saw the shadow moving along with me, as if it was playing, testing my limits. It was then that he heard a loud sound. A kind of roar that seemed to come directly from inside the truck's engine.

The entire cabin vibrated and the radio began to hiss with a distorted, almost unrecognizable voice. He whispered, you shouldn't be here. Panic took over me.

I decided I wasn't going to stop, no matter what . I turned on my high beams , trying to shine as much light ahead as I could, but the road never seemed to end. The noise continued as if something was trying to enter the cabin.

Suddenly, I felt a strong impact on the back of the truck, as if something had hit it. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the shadow larger than ever swallowing the back of my vehicle. Get out of here, I screamed, even though I knew that screaming wouldn't help anything, so.

Something unexpected happened, a bright light appeared ahead, cutting through the darkness like a blade. It was a police station. I almost couldn't believe it, I accelerated even more as if my life depended on it.

When I finally got close, I honked with all my might and stopped abruptly. I got out of the truck panting and ran to the police officers who were on duty. You need to help me.

Is there something following me on the road? The two of them looked at me with a mixture of skepticism and concern. One of them, a tall and robust man, asked something, what a car, I tried to explain, but my words were garbled.

They asked me to calm down and went to the truck with me. When we arrived, everything was normal, the back of the truck, which I was sure was dented. It was intact, there were no marks, there were no signs of anything.

The other, younger police officer commented, sir, it must have been tiredness. This road is complicated, especially at night. I wanted believe that, but I knew what I had seen.

This was neither a dream nor a hallucination. I looked one last time at the road, now illuminated by the gas station lights. And I swore to myself that I would never drive that way in the early hours of the morning again until today, when I think about that night, I feel the same chills.

I don't know what that shadow was, but I know it wasn't from this world and every time I see the headlights approaching in the rearview mirror, I can't help but feel like it could come back at any moment. My name is Thomas Muller. I am 47 years old and have been a truck driver in Germany for over 2 decades.

I was born in Hamburg. My travels take me all over Europe. I've driven through the stunning landscapes of the Alps, icy roads in Norway, and even the busy highways of France.

But it was in the early hours of the morning at Bundes Autoban 31, known as the Autoban of the Ghost. That he lived something that he could never forget. It was an autumn night.

At around 2:00 in the morning, I was transporting industrial equipment from Dortmund to Freyburg, in southern Germany. The road was empty, unusual for a German motorway. But the silence didn't bother me.

I liked driving at night, when the traffic was less and the journey seemed smoother, the fog slowly started to form. Making visibility increasingly difficult, I turned on the fog lights and slowed down . As I was driving, I noticed the radio started to hiss.

I found it strange, as I was listening to a local station with a strong signal. I tried to adjust, but the sound was still cut off by interference. It was then that I saw something up ahead.

In the middle of the road, it looked like a person, a tall, thin figure. Covered by a dark cloak, stopped on the side of the road, I reduced speed and passed slowly, trying to understand what someone was doing there at that time, in the middle of Nothing, I looked in the rearview mirror to see if the figure was still there, but there was no one. My stomach froze.

That didn't make sense. Maybe I'm tired, I thought. Trying to convince myself that it was just a play of lights and fog, I continued forward, but the feeling of being watched didn't leave me at every turn.

I looked at the mirrors hoping to see something behind me. The tension increased and the road seemed to never end. Suddenly, I heard a strange sound, a metallic noise, as if something was scratching the side of the truck.

I squinted at the mirror on the right, but I didn't see anything. I decided to pull over to an emergency area to check. I got out of the truck with the flashlight in hand.

The fog was so thick that you could barely see the cabin. I walked along the truck, shining a light on every part, but there was no scratch, no sign that anything had touched it. Chayce, I muttered, irritated, as I walked back to the cabin.

As soon as I entered, I smelled a strange smell. Like wet earth mixed with something rotten. I looked around, but everything seemed normal.

I started the engine and continued my journey, determined to reach my destination soon. That's when everything got worse. A few kilometers ahead, I saw something on the road again.

This time it was a truck. The rear lights were on, but the vehicle appeared to be stopped in the middle of the road. I slowed down and honked the horn, but the truck wouldn't move.

What the hell? He said, as he slowed down even more to try to pass by him. As I got closer, I noticed that the truck was completely abandoned, the cab was open and the interior looked worn, as if it had been left there for years.

The strangest thing was the sign. He was so rusty that it was impossible to read the number. I walked past him slowly, my heart racing.

It was then that he heard a sound coming from the radio, like loud static, followed by a hoarse, almost incomprehensible voice, you shouldn't be here, my blood ran cold. I looked at the radio, trying to turn it off, but the button wouldn't respond. The voice kept repeating the same phrase, increasingly louder and distorted.

You shouldn't be here. I accelerated as much as I could, trying to get out of that area as quickly as possible. The fog seemed thicker, as if it were trying to swallow me.

It was then that, in the rearview mirror, I saw the headlights of the abandoned truck. Lighting up, he started to move. No, it can't be, I told myself as I pressed the accelerator with all my might, the truck behind me accelerated more and more.

Approaching too quickly, the engine roared like a beast and the headlights illuminated the entire back of my vehicle. It was impossible for that to be happening. I exceeded 120 km per hour.

But he was still behind me, glued to me, as if he wanted to force me off the road. At each curve, I felt the impact of the air displaced by the truck. Finally, I saw an exit to a Rest area .

I entered abruptly, almost losing control, and stopped the truck. I ran down, but when I looked at a main road, there was nothing. The truck that was chasing me was gone, shaking.

I entered the Descanso area, a gas station was open and the gas station attendant looked at me curiously as I approached. Okay, sir, you seem scared. I started, but I didn't know how to explain what had just happened.

Have you ever seen anything strange on the autoban? 31 the man frowned. Ah, you must be talking about the ghost truck stories .

Some drivers say that he appears on foggy nights chasing anyone who dares to drive on this road alone? My mouth went dry, I couldn't respond. I paid for a coffee, went back to the truck and stood there until dawn.

I never passed Autoban 31 at night again and to this day I avoid driving on roads covered in fog. Some things on the road.