[STORY] THE PRIVATE CHAUFFEUR OF THE MIDNIGHT GHOSTS

The Midnight Fares

Chapter One: Under the Mango Tree

The sun shone high in the sky, but no light reached into the lives of Dario and his friend Cossi. Sitting beneath a mango tree near an old, dusty shed, their shirts clung to their skin with sweat. Both men were taxi drivers, but for some time now, customers had grown scarce. Worse, the government had put new buses into circulation across the city — a hard blow to the taxi drivers who could no longer compete.

At home, their children went hungry, and their wives had nothing left to run the household. “Are we condemned to be poor forever?” Cossi asked, rubbing his empty stomach.

“My brother,” the other answered, shaking his head, “even to buy a sachet of water we have to think twice first.” They sighed. Passersby ignored them as though they didn’t exist.

At Dario’s house, the situation was worse still. He, his wife Aïna, and their six children shared a single small room. The children hadn’t been to school in three years; their uniforms, now rags, were used to mop the floor. Not a single grain of rice remained in the house. Even the landlord had stopped coming to collect the rent, the debt had grown so heavy.

At Cossi’s house, nothing was different. His wife Toko heated clear water in a pot to give the children the illusion that a meal was coming. The four little ones stared at the pot with hollow eyes. “Mama, when will the rice be ready?” one asked. “Soon,” she replied, lying, even though there wasn’t a single grain of rice in the house. When she turned away, she wiped her tears in silence.

In the neighborhood, the mockery never stopped. “Look at them, good for nothing,” some said. “They make children like goats but can’t feed them.” “They say their wives go begging for food from the neighbors,” another added. These words stung like flames, but Dario and Cossi had learned to absorb them without answering.

Still, their friendship held firm. When one managed to find a little garri, he shared it. They even managed to laugh sometimes, just to forget their misery for a moment. But deep down, they both knew something had to change, and quickly — because even hope seemed to be abandoning them.

Chapter Two: What the Neighbors Wouldn’t Give

The next morning, the noise of the neighborhood contrasted sharply with the silence in their homes. Everywhere, children left for school in immaculate uniforms, waved off by their mothers. In Dario’s house, the atmosphere was heavy. Aïna sat with her head in her hands, not knowing what to give the children to eat.

“Mama, why don’t we go to school like the other children?” her eldest daughter asked. She forced a smile. “Because we don’t have the means, my darling,” she answered in a broken voice. Then she went out, hoping to find some sympathetic neighbor who might give her leftover food.

On the other side of the street, Toko, Cossi’s wife, was already facing the same humiliation. She had borrowed from everyone, and no one would help her anymore. “You again?” a neighbor shouted. “You haven’t even paid back what you owe from last time. Do you think my house is a charity?” Red with shame, Toko turned on her heel. Her hungry children remained silent, sitting in a corner.

That evening, Cossi came home empty-handed. “Nothing today,” he said simply. Toko looked at him with bitterness. “We can’t keep living like this. Even the children are starting to hate us.” He nodded and sat down heavily. “I know,” he answered, burying his face in his hands.

Across the way, at Dario’s house, the tension was rising too. His wife broke down. “Not even corn — you can’t even bring home corn anymore. What do you want me to do?” “And you think I’m not looking?” he snapped back. The children watched, silent, terrified by the raised voices.

That evening, the two friends found themselves once again beneath the mango tree. For a long time, neither said anything. Then Cossi broke the silence. “Dario, there’s something we could try. But it isn’t ordinary.”

“What do you mean?” Dario asked warily.

“I’ve heard of an old charlatan in a remote village. They say he can make people rich through spiritual means.”

Dario frowned. “You’re talking about occult practices?”

“Yes,” Cossi murmured.

And that is how their path toward darkness began.

Chapter Three: The Sanctuary in the Forest

At dawn the next day, before the sun had even risen, the two men prepared a small bag and left in secret. They told their wives nothing. What was the point of explaining something they would refuse to understand? They boarded a bus that carried them far from the city. Arriving in a village, they walked a long time into the heart of a dense, silent forest — a place where even the birds seemed to have forgotten how to sing.

An old man waited for them at the entrance. “Welcome to my humble home. The spirits warned me of your visit. So — you’ve come seeking wealth?” he asked, without waiting for an answer. “Follow me.”

They obeyed without question, their hearts pounding. Inside the sanctuary, the air was thick with smoke and strange odors. The walls were draped in red cloth, and bones hung from the ceiling. In the center, seated on a mat, old Baba kept his eyes closed, his lips moving as though speaking to invisible spirits. Then, abruptly, he opened his eyes and fixed them on the two men.

“Are you ready to do anything to become rich?” he asked in a grave voice.

“We are tired of living in misery,” Cossi answered without hesitation.

Baba nodded slowly. “Then you must pay the price for that wealth. Money does not fall from the sky. The spirits will make you rich. But in exchange, you must offer them a sacrifice — and it will be the blood of someone close to you, someone you carry in your heart.”

The two men exchanged a worried glance. “Baba,” Dario murmured, “can’t it be someone we don’t know?”

“No,” Baba cut him off. “The spirits feed on pain. They demand the sacrifice of a beloved person, or the offering has no value.” He granted them seven days to bring back a victim. If they missed the deadline, the door would close forever.

Outside, the sun was already setting behind the forest. Cossi stayed silent, his face pale. Dario looked at him with concern. “Are you sure we should go through with this?”

Cossi took a long breath. “Do you have another solution?”

Chapter Four: Looking for a Victim

And so began their search for a sacrifice. The next day, sitting on a bench at the taxi station with a cheap bottle of palm wine, they talked in low voices.

“There’s no way we touch our children,” Dario declared. “I’d rather die.”

“Same for me,” Cossi added. “But it has to be someone close — that’s the rule.”

They fell silent for a moment. Then Dario proposed: “What about little Cader — the boy who’s always following us around?” Cader was fourteen, a helpful, naive neighborhood kid who liked tagging along to wash their cars or run small errands. They decided to trick him with the promise of a trip. They’d tell him they were taking him to meet an important man about work. He’d follow without asking questions. They were convinced the plan would work.

But that very evening, Cader’s mother stopped them in the middle of the street. “You want to take my son somewhere?” she shouted, furious. “He told me to say nothing, but I’m not stupid.”

“No, Mama Cader, it’s not what you think,” Dario stammered.

“Never come near my child again,” she screamed, chasing them off. That night, Cossi trembled. “You see — if that woman talks, the police will throw us in prison.”

“Calm down,” Dario answered. “We just have to be more careful. Another opportunity will come.”

They tried again a few days later with an old friend from their drinking sessions, but at the last moment the man changed his mind and walked away, muttering. A week passed with no result. Time was running out.

On the seventh day, Cossi finally said, “Let’s just go see Baba and tell him we couldn’t do it.” Dario nodded, but in his heart he had already made a decision.

Chapter Five: What Dario Did Alone

The night before their appointment, Dario slipped out of the house, claiming he was going to visit a sick uncle. In reality, he took the road to the village alone. His heart pounded, his shirt soaked with sweat despite the cool night air. In his pocket, he had gathered a little money borrowed from other colleagues — every bill carefully hidden from his wife.

When Baba saw him arrive alone, he didn’t seem surprised. “There you are,” he said simply. “You’ve come without your friend.”

“Baba,” Dario answered in a trembling voice, “I don’t want to suffer anymore. My friend has the strength to endure this life, but I can’t take it anymore. Use him for the sacrifice. I beg you.”

Baba’s eyes gleamed. “Did you bring money?” Dario pulled out the small bundle. Baba counted each bill slowly, then gave a smile. “You are bold. You will be rich. But listen carefully — the spirits will always demand more. You must never refuse their call, never delay their orders. If you disappoint them, they will take back everything they gave you.”

“I understand,” Dario replied. “I will obey.”

Then Baba prepared the sanctuary. He inscribed signs on a calabash. He poured a black liquid and handed Dario a talisman. “Place this beneath your pillow. When it breaks, your friend will be easy to overpower.”

Chapter Six: The Sacrifice

On the day of their appointment, as planned, they took the bus to Baba’s village together. Dario acted as if nothing were wrong, even joking with Cossi on the way to the bus. “Maybe Baba will laugh at us since we couldn’t find anyone to sacrifice,” Cossi said with a forced smile.

“Maybe,” Dario answered with a dry grin, though guilt was gnawing at his stomach. They retraced the same path and arrived in the village at dusk. Baba was waiting. Inside the sanctuary, he began his incantations. Very quickly, Cossi felt dizzy.

“Dario, what’s happening?” he stammered, a hand rising to his head.

“Rest,” Dario murmured, avoiding his eyes. Cossi collapsed to the floor. Baba immediately tightened enchanted cords around his body. Dario stepped back, trembling, but said nothing.

The ritual began. Blood spilled onto the sanctuary floor as Baba chanted in a chilling language. Dario looked away, but it was already too late. His companion in misery, his fellow traveler, was gone.

Baba continued without stopping, tracing strange symbols in the dust, his words resonating like a cold wind through the room. “You have done what many would never dare,” he said in a firm voice. “The spirits accept you now.” Dario tried to speak, but his throat was dry as sand. No words came out.

Trembling, Dario watched as Baba dipped a feather in Cossi’s blood and traced a mark on his forehead. “The bond is sealed,” the old man declared. After the ritual, he handed Dario an old bone wrapped in red thread. “This is a way for the spirits to contact you,” he explained. “Keep it somewhere safe, in your home, and above all, never let it fall to the ground. If this talisman ever touches the ground, you will free the soul of your sacrificed friend, and what follows will no longer be up to me. So take care of it. And when the time comes, you will hear a sound like a bell ringing. That will mean the spirits are calling you. You must drive them wherever they wish to go, in your taxi. They will pay you whatever you ask. But do not forget — if you disobey, or for any reason fail to complete a mission to the end, it will be your own blood they take in payment.”

Dario shook his head, still reeling. “So I’m going to become a driver for ghosts?”

“Yes,” Baba answered. “And it begins now.”

Chapter Seven: The Passengers Who Paid in Silence

Heart heavy, Dario took the road back to the city alone. The journey felt endless. Every tree seemed like a hand ready to grab him. When he arrived home, Aïna asked why Cossi hadn’t come back.

“He stayed a while at the village,” he answered quickly. “He wants to help an uncle on the farm.” Aïna, exhausted, asked no more questions. Dario carefully hid the talisman Baba had given him in a box, which he tucked away in the closet.

Meanwhile, Toko, Cossi’s wife, waited for her husband all night. The next day, worried, she asked Dario, “Where is Cossi?”

“He told me to let you know he’ll stay a week at the village,” Dario lied. She walked away, troubled, because it wasn’t like her husband to not tell her personally about his travel plans.

That night, Dario was sitting in his car when he felt a sharp chime that only he could hear. He took the wheel. The back seat creaked as though someone had just sat down, though no door had opened.

“Drive,” a cold voice murmured. He could hear and sense a presence but could not see it. Throat tight, Dario started the engine. “Yes, where are we going, sir?” The ghost gave an address far from the city center. He asked no questions and drove in silence. The road grew colder and colder, his breath turning to mist as though in the middle of the dry, dusty harmattan season.

At one point, the invisible passenger spoke. “Are you afraid?”

“I just want to do my job well,” Dario answered, trying to hide his unease. When they reached a dark intersection near the cemetery, the voice declared, “You can go.” A thick bundle of bills appeared on the front seat. It was the first fare — the first payment.

Chapter Eight: What Wealth Bought

The following nights, the calls repeated. Each ghost paid more than the last. Very quickly, poverty disappeared. Dario bought a new car, new clothes, and rented a more spacious house in a wealthy neighborhood. His old neighbors began calling him “the president of taxi drivers” whenever he visited his old neighborhood.

But behind his smiles, his nights remained haunted. To Aïna, he claimed he’d won a government contract. She believed him. Her daily life changed completely now that her husband had money.

But Toko, Cossi’s wife, sank into despair. Her husband never returned. She alerted the police, ran announcements on the radio, but nothing came of it. Her children kept asking. “Mama, where’s Papa?” She had no answer. Sometimes she locked herself in her room and sat for hours on the floor, staring at the wall. The police simply told her, “Maybe he ran off to another state. Ah, men these days.” “Not my husband!” she’d cry. “He would never abandon his children.” But the case went nowhere.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. All the while, Dario continued his nocturnal life. At every chime, he had a short window to get behind the wheel. One evening, he dared to ignore the call because he wanted to stay with his family. But his fingers began to go numb, his body to freeze. Panicked, he rushed outside. That night, it was a ghost man who climbed aboard.

“Take me to the airport,” the authoritative voice ordered. Dario answered immediately, “Yes, all right, I’m going.” He drove down the freezing road, his back drenched in sweat. Upon arrival, the spirit left him a golden coin.

The next day, a money changer’s eyes went wide seeing the coin. “Where did you get this? With this coin, you could pay three years of rent in advance.”

Dario smiled and said only, “An old friend gave me this gift.” From then on, his wealth grew. He bought his wife a Toyota Camry, opened her a large shop, put his children back in school. His old colleagues at the taxi station watched him with envy, but he found no peace. Every night he transported the dead. Some simply watched him in silence. Others laughed a cold laugh that chilled his blood. All, without exception, paid generously — but none ever said thank you. So he made himself careful, polite, even obsequious. “Welcome, sir. Are you comfortable?” he repeated endlessly, because Baba had warned him — if he disappointed even one of them, it would be his own blood as payment.

Chapter Nine: What Toko Suspected

But while Dario enjoyed all this wealth with his wife and children, Cossi’s absence became unbearable for Toko. She was fading, slowly, her eyes losing all their light. Her children kept asking after their father, but she still had no answer. She began to suspect Dario. This sudden fortune couldn’t be innocent. She remembered how inseparable the two men had been, and how now one shone like a politician while the other had vanished like smoke. And worse — neither Dario nor his wife Aïna had thought to help them financially, even now that they’d become rich.

One day, Toko found out their new address and went to confront Dario once more. “Dario, be honest. Are you sure nothing happened to Cossi?”

He put on a pained expression. “Ah, my sister, I’m worried too. Every day I pray for him to come back. If I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know.” She left, but doubt kept growing in her heart.

Meanwhile, Aïna enjoyed her new life. Her shop was doing well. Her children were back in school, and every day she thanked her husband. “God has not forgotten us,” she said proudly.

But one day, Aïna was searching for an old piece of jewelry her parents had left her as an inheritance. She remembered that when they moved into the new house, Dario had carefully packed all their precious belongings into a large trunk, which he then placed in the storage room. Earlier that day, chatting with a customer at the shop, they’d discussed an old style of jewelry no longer made. It had jogged a memory — she owned a similar piece, passed down from her grandmother, which she’d carefully kept.

Determined, she went down to the storage room, opened the trunk, and searched for a long time. Despite her efforts, the jewelry was nowhere to be found. She kept searching, again and again, until she came across a small box. Curious, she opened it clumsily, and the object inside immediately slipped to the floor. Bending to pick it up, she discovered an old bone wrapped in red thread. Surprised, she found it strange and unsettling. After a moment’s hesitation, she concluded it must be some forgotten toy of the children’s. Without further thought, she threw it in the trash — not knowing this talisman had been carefully hidden there by her husband. That gesture was about to upend their lives forever.

Chapter Ten: The Route Home

The following night, as always, Dario was woken by the chime announcing a new fare. Accustomed to the ritual, he took the wheel and waited for his invisible passenger. But that night, something was different. Instead of giving an address in his usual grave voice, the ghost set a phone down on the seat. The screen glowed in the darkness, displaying a route already mapped out on a navigation app.

Dario understood immediately he was meant to follow it. Without asking any questions, he started driving, hands clenched on the wheel. Heavy silence filled the car. His passenger remained mute, strangely calm, almost absent. The further the road went, the more a chilling sensation rose in him. The places passed by, and little by little, he recognized them. This route — he knew it too well. His eyes widened as he realized the road was taking him straight back toward his old neighborhood.

Heart pounding, he kept driving, unable to stop. Finally, he arrived at the indicated destination — Cossi’s house. His fingers trembled on the wheel. His throat, dry, kept him from speaking a single word. The ghost stepped out without a sound, left a bundle of bills on the seat, and disappeared into the night.

Dario, petrified, stared at his lost friend’s house, his stomach knotted with anguish. Unable to comprehend, he abruptly restarted the car and drove home, breath ragged. “What can this possibly mean?” he repeated to himself in silence, unable to calm the fear now gnawing at his mind.

The following night, the same scenario repeated. The silent ghost settled in the back, and once again the destination on the phone was Cossi’s address. Dario’s heart began beating so hard he thought it would stop. He could not see the spirits — only feel their presence and hear their voices. Yet this one never said anything, not a single word. Only that map, always pointing toward the house of his vanished friend.

On the third night, Dario gathered all his courage. His hands trembled on the wheel, but he dared to speak in a low voice. “Who are you? Why — three times in a row — this same address?” The silence that followed was heavier than anything before. No answer. At the end of the drive, as usual, a bundle of bills appeared on the seat, and the invisible passenger vanished without a sound.

Chapter Eleven: The Silence That Followed

The next day, Dario expected to relive the same ritual. He had prepared himself psychologically, despite the fear that never left him. But strangely, no chime rang that night. Nothing — absolute calm. And it was the same in the days that followed.

Deep down, he breathed a sigh of relief. This nocturnal life had been eating away at him. Since Cossi’s sacrifice, he had driven ghosts every single night, a prisoner of this macabre mission. Now he told himself it might finally be over. He’d had enough — enough of the drives, enough of that icy silence. And besides, he had amassed enough money to live at least ten years without lifting a finger.

A week passed. Still nothing. A month. Two months. Then three. The chime never came back. Dario began convincing himself he was finally free.

But one morning, misfortune struck full force. A gas explosion ravaged the small restaurant next to Aïna’s shop. The fire spread so quickly that several businesses were destroyed. Among the victims was Aïna, who had been in her shop at the moment of the fire.

Dario was completely undone. His grief-stricken children could not stop crying for their mother. He had barely buried her when a new tragedy struck. His youngest child was suddenly seized by a fit. Rushed to the hospital, Dario spent hours in the waiting room, heart clenched. When the doctor finally emerged, his closed expression already told the news. The child had not survived.

Hearing those words, Dario let out a cry of pain that echoed down the entire hallway. Why was fate hounding him so relentlessly?

Chapter Twelve: What Was Built on Blood

A week later, after burying his child, he was no more than a shadow of himself. Crushed, unable to care for the others, he decided to send them to stay with a maternal aunt for a while, until he could gather himself and find a way forward. Too exhausted and broken to accompany them himself, he called on a trusted driver to take them.

But fate had one more fatal blow in store. The vehicle carrying his children was involved in a severe accident on the road. No survivors. When the news reached him, Dario was struck dumb with shock. The pain, too immense, crushed him. From that day forward, he never recovered.

Broken by successive losses, he shut himself in his house, barely going out anymore, living like a wandering shadow of himself. One day, exhausted after hours spent weeping over the loss of his entire family, Dario fell asleep on the cold floor of his house. In his restless sleep, he had a dream. His hands appeared before him covered in blood, dripping. And suddenly he saw his friend standing in front of him, his face closed, filled with anger.

Panicked, Dario fell to his knees and begged for forgiveness — for having betrayed him, for having sacrificed him. But in the dream, Cossi answered in an implacable voice.

“I forgive you. Yes, I forgive you your betrayal. I forgive you for sacrificing me to become rich. But what I will never, ever forgive you for is never once glancing toward my family after my death. You got the money because of me. You fed your children. You sent them to school. And mine — you left them in hunger and misery. What is built on blood will be destroyed by blood. I have taken my revenge, and now I leave.” Then he vanished.

Dario woke with a start, drenched in sweat, heart pounding. At last, he understood the source of his misfortunes. Remorse overwhelmed him.

Chapter Thirteen: The Confession

The next day, he went to Toko’s house. In front of her home, under the astonished gazes of the neighbors, he set down a large box filled with bills. There, he fell to his knees, begged her forgiveness, and confessed publicly — that it was he who had sacrificed Cossi to become rich.

Toko stood frozen, unable to believe what she had just heard. Then she collapsed in tears, hands pressed to her head, unable to contain her grief.

No sooner had Dario finished his confession than something in him gave way entirely. As though a veil had torn open in his mind, he began removing his shoes, tearing off his clothes, wandering naked through the street. His movements grew disordered; he gestured like a man beside himself, repeating Cossi’s name over and over, then bursting into laughter as he walked through the neighborhood under the shocked stares of everyone around him. That day, he sank permanently into madness.

The story quickly spread through the neighborhood, then through the newspapers and social media. Everyone spoke of the man who had sacrificed his friend for wealth and had ended up losing everything he owned.

As for Toko, a few days later, she took the money Dario had left and decided to leave the neighborhood with her children, settling in another city far away, to start over completely and try to give her family a new life.

Chapter Fourteen: What Remained

What is built on blood will be destroyed by blood. Dario had believed, in his desperation, that he could buy his way out of misery without paying the debt himself — that someone else’s suffering could be exchanged for his family’s survival. For a while, it seemed to work. The money came. The house grew larger. His children returned to school. But every fare he drove that year, every silent ghost in the back seat, was a reminder he refused to hear: that wealth built on a friend’s sacrificed life was never really his to keep.

Cossi’s forgiveness, when it finally came, was not the mercy Dario expected. It was the sharpest judgment of all — not condemnation for the betrayal itself, but for what came after: the silence, the indifference, the refusal to look toward the family left behind in hunger while his own children ate well. That refusal, more than the sacrifice, was what finally called the debt due.

In the end, no amount of gold could outrun what had been set in motion in that forest sanctuary. The talisman broken, the bond severed, the last fare paid — Dario was left with nothing but the truth he had spent months running from, and a madness that finally caught up to him in the light of day, in front of everyone who had once envied him.

— End —