The Gas Canister: A Story of Mystery and Suspense

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[music] Today, we are diving into a story of unexpected encounters and mysterious happenings. Picture this, a dark, lonely road and a stranded traveler without cell service. Should he wait or walk through the lonely darkness to seek help? Join us as we unravel the secrets that lurk in the shadows, waiting to take advantage of the vulnerable or offer salvation. Join us on a tale we call The Gas Canister.[music] Welcome to Pan to Pen, a storytelling podcast where every other Wednesday, we bring you factual and fiction stories written by Tate Basildon, a private chef and memoir author, narrated using an AI text-to-speech service. Before we begin, we want to thank the following listeners for their generous five-star ratings and extraordinary reviews. Bookworm3116, The Best 5-Minute Wine Podcast, Tosh J., Lynn Sewell, and Vinnie Potastivo, all in the US, Die Manuel in Canada, and Biolink Podcaster in Poland. Thank you all for your support. Now, on to our story.[music] Please note that the following story is a work of fiction, and any similarities to places or persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. This episode may also be a bit too scary for the little ones.[music] Alfred gazed in horror at the needle, pointing to the red letter E. How could he forget to fill the gas tank before getting on the highway? The car's gas indicator lit up as he considered his stupidity and carelessness. He sped along the highway, hoping the next gas stop was close enough for him to make it, but the sign ahead showed that the next stop was 20 miles away, and the car's computer showed insufficient gas to make it there. He considered pulling off onto the shoulder before the car died, when he saw a handwritten cardboard sign duct-taped to a wooden pole that read "GAS" with an arrow pointing right. He assumed he imagined it in the darkness. Driving a little further, he approached what looked like an exit, where another cardboard sign similar to the one he passed stood. This one read "GAS, Last Chance." Glancing down at the gas gauge showed he had basically no gas left. He wouldn't make it anywhere and decided to take his chances. He followed the cardboard sign off the exit with no official green and white sign. He drove off onto an unlit, obviously untraveled road with grass growing up the cracks in the pitch. The road continued for a few hundred yards and ended at a concrete barricade. He began to panic as the side road to nowhere was much lower than the highway, and he knew no one would see him in the almost complete darkness. He attempted to make a three-point turn in the road to head back out when alarms sounded as the engine sputtered to its temporary death. Slamming his hands on the steering wheel in frustration, Alfred cursed himself for getting off the highway in an area he did not know. The road was dark and there were no signs of development, only trees and wild bushes. He glanced at the car's infotainment screen and saw no cell service. He ripped the phone away from its charging pad in frustration and exited the car, hoping that the metal frame of the vehicle was somehow now blocking out signals and he would get a signal outside. He held his phone above his head, hoping to see the signal strength indicator with at least one bar, but there was none. He dreaded walking along the darkness back to the highway to flag down help and regretted his passion for reading horror stories and listening to true crime podcasts. In the stillness of the darkness, he could only hear crickets and the rush of vehicles on the highway off in the distance. The memories of all the stories of monsters in the forest that he read over the years came flooding back to him, making his imagination run wild. He was also listening to a true crime podcast in the car about a serial killer who picked out his victims on lonely roads. He knew he could not stay there and expect help to come to him. Turning on the flashlight on his phone, he began walking down the darkened road toward the highway when, ahead of him, he saw what looked like the shape of a man approaching. His phone's flashlight was not powerful enough to illuminate the object to determine what it was. Maybe it was his eyes playing tricks on him, or he was looking at a tree stump. Stopping in his tracks, his heart rate increased as the adrenaline began pumping through his system. He squinted to determine if the thing he saw was moving, and it was. It was getting closer to him and was definitely the silhouette of a man with a large rectangular object. From the way the man held the item, with it dangling at his side, his body slightly leaning to the opposite side to balance out the weight, it meant whatever this dark figure was carrying was heavy. Alfred turned on his heels, ran back to the car, dove into the driver's side, and locked the door. The car stalled at an angle so that his headlights shone into the bushes and trees at the side of the road, not towards the approaching man. Alfred was not a coward, but he never considered himself a fighter. He thought that if he needed to, he would be able to defend himself. But for now, he felt the car offered more protection than trying to fight a man who was much larger than him. The dark figure walked up to the side of the car on the passenger side and silently pulled on the door's handle."Go away!" Alfred wondered if he was more vulnerable where he was, in a seated position. Would it be better to get out of the car and face the man head on? What if the stranger broke the driver's side window and pulled him out through it? He would be helpless as the individual whacked him with the large, heavy object he carried. The silhouette moved to the back door and tried pulling again. The locks kept their position. Alfred put his hands on the steering wheel to avoid accidentally hitting the unlock button. The figure stood at the door, not moving for a minute. He then moved to the back panel and gently tapped along it as if it were looking for something. He then walked around the back of the car to the back panel on the driver's side. He gently tapped around the panel until he contacted the gas tank door. He tried pulling it open, but it was locked. The dark figure moved to the driver's side window, and Alfred could see in the darkness that the man was pointing to the gas tank. Alfred understood that the man wanted access to the tank, but there was no way he would allow that. The only way to unlock the gas tank was to unlock the car doors. There was no switch inside the car. If the car door is locked, the gas tank is locked, and vice versa."Please, just go away, leave me alone." Alfred held onto the door handle as the dark figure began pulling on the driver's side car door. He considered whether to hurry to the passenger side and run for it. If he had to be beaten to death, he did not want it to be sitting down, defenseless. The man quickly raised the sizable rectangular object he had been carrying in line with the car's window. Alfred squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sound of shattered glass and the inevitable splinters to cut his face. After what seemed like an eternity, nothing happened. He slowly opened his eyes to see the object pressed against the window. In the darkness, he could barely make out a large plastic bottle that appeared to be red. He saw something poking out from the top of what seemed to be a spout. He looked at the man again and saw him pointing to the gas tank. Alfred then realized that the man was carrying a gas canister and he wanted access to the tank. Reluctantly, still holding onto the door's handle, Alfred pushed the unlock button on the car's door. The sound of unlocking doors reverberated in the silence and through Alfred's courage, he jumped at the sound while bracing himself in anticipation of the man pulling the door open and beating him to death. The darkened shadow turned towards the back of the car, opened the tank's door, pushed the spout into the filler neck tube, and raised the bottle to allow the contents to pour in. Alfred listened to his heartbeat in his ears in the deafening silence when he heard the flammable liquid that powered his car glug its way down the tube and into the tank. With every slush, he relaxed slightly, but kept his grip on the door. When he heard the last bubble make its way out into the air, he pushed the lock button before the shadow could open the back door. The man closed the gas tank, placed the canister on the road at the side of the car, and silently walked off into the darkness the same way he had come. Alfred anxiously pressed the start button. Nothing."Come on, dammit! Start!" He pressed it again, and the sound of the car's engine starting was the best sound he ever heard. He put the car in reverse and hit the accelerator so hard that the car drove over the curb and hit a shrub. He put it in drive, took a deep breath to control himself, and pressed the accelerator hard again. The car's wheels spun in the dirt, caught and propelled the vehicle back over the curb, onto the pitch, and screeched loudly. He sped down the road back towards the highway when he realized no one was there. He put on his brights and stopped. Nothing. Deciding not to wait around, he sped off down the dark road and back onto the highway. The car's computer showed he only had enough gas to reach the gas stop. When he pulled up to the gas pump at the stop, the dashboard started its familiar chime, letting him know again that this was the end of the road. He filled his car, then went into the snack shop to buy a snack and a drink. As he checked out his purchases, he decided to mention his experience with the man in the darkness to the clerk."Oh, that's the gas phantom. A couple of times a year, someone runs out of gas in that spot, and he fills the car and disappears into the forest.""Seriously? And you believe in this gas phantom?""You tell me. I never saw him. You're the one that came in here claiming to see a dark figure in the night. You are the one with all the woo-woo experiences.""No one knows who he is? How does he know when to give help? And where is he getting the gas from?""Slow down, dude. Don't get yourself all worked up. There are all kinds of legends about the phantom. The best one is that he ran out of gas on the highway and went down the abandoned exit ramp. They would have originally put the gas stop there, but moved it to the next town instead because they hit a spring and formed a bog. They say the guy got out of his car to walk back to the highway, and in the darkness he got lost, and the bog swallowed him up. They found his car, but never found him.""So you're saying that it is a ghost? How does a ghost carry a full gas canister, and where did he get the gas anyway?""Did you bring the canister with you?""Huh?""Did you bring the canister with you? When he fills the tanks, he leaves the canister next to your car for you to refill.""I wasn't opening up my car to chat with the guy. How was I supposed to know to bring the canister here? The phantom, or whatever that was, should have a sign with instructions on how all this works. If he could make cardboard signs, he should make instructions too.""What cardboard? Never mind. You are supposed to bring back the canister, fill it up, and leave it at the edge of the woods behind the station. He comes and gets it for the next person that runs out of gas on that stretch.""Like I said, I did not bring the canister.""There are canisters on the top shelf behind you. The five-gallon ones are fifty bucks." Alfred began to believe that this was all a scam. There was no phantom. This guy was playing him after he told him what happened."What happens if I don't buy and refill the canister?""Everyone with your story has consistently refilled the canister and left it by the woods. Why don't you drive off and see what happens if you don't?" Alfred took a deep breath, turned, and quickly took a canister from the shelf. He paid for the canister and his snacks headed out to the pump and filled the bottle. Not believing that he was actually doing this, he went around the back of the station, which was barely lit, stepped over the curb onto the high grass, and walked twenty feet to the edge of the woods. He looked behind to be sure this was not a ploy by the clerk to have him mugged by one of his accomplices. He placed the canister on the ground next to a shrub and stepped back. He waited a minute for lights to come on and a camera crew to appear and tell him he was on some prank show, but... nothing happened. He returned to the station when he heard a rustle in the woods. He stopped and turned, remaining as quiet as he could when the bushes parted next to the canister. A dark, large hand reached out and pulled the heavy bottle of petrol into the woods. Alfred thought for a minute, trying to decide if to leave or follow the figure into the woods, and solve the mystery of this legend which seemed to exist for the past forty years. But he only now learned about it. He decided to follow and quickly headed towards the dark woods. He parted the thorny bramble and lifted one foot in."I would not do that if I were you." Alfred spun around to see the gas station store clerk standing right behind him. The clerk put a hand on Alfred's shoulder and held him there."Let me go! I have to see if this is real!""There was only one person that went behind the phantom.""And what did they find?""We don't know. They went in and were never seen again. It's your choice, dude. Stay and live in wonder or follow, never to be seen again." Alfred sighed and let go of the bramble, dusting the dead leaves from his hands. Turning around to talk to the clerk, he saw no one was there. He hurried back into the store and saw the clerk reading a magazine behind the counter."How did you get back here so fast?" The clerk slowly raised his head and looked at Alfred with confusion."What are you talking about, man?""You were just at the edge of the woods and stopped me from entering.""Wasn't me, dude. This whole gas phantom and his canister are getting to you." The clerk returned to reading his magazine, and Alfred looked around the store only to realize they were alone. He looked outside, and his was the only car in the station. He tried to remember if there were any other cars when he pulled up, but his mind was blank. As he pushed the door to leave the store, he glanced back at the clerk and saw he was gone. He walked quickly to his car, started it, and drove off with a screech. He returned to the highway and saw the gas station getting smaller in his rearview mirror. His gas gauge read full, so he sat back in his seat and relaxed when his phone rang."Hello?""Al, where are you? I've been trying to get through to you for the last two hours.""Hey, honey, what do you mean? What do you mean for the last two hours? I haven't left the highway.""I've been calling you for the last two hours. No answer, and when I checked the 'find my' on my phone, it couldn't locate you.""I guess I drove through a dead zone, but I spoke with you thirty minutes ago.""What are you talking about? Two hours? Are you going crazy, woman?""Sweetie, I don't know what is up with you, but you have been off the grid for two hours." Alfred looked at the clock, which had advanced more than two hours. He tried to think of what happened and had no recollection. The last thing he remembered was glancing at his gas tank. It was low, and he knew he had to fill up soon. Then the phone rang, and his wife was on the line telling him he was missing for two hours, and then the tank was full."Hey, babe, I have no idea what's happening, but I just lost two hours and have no recollection of it." And so, as we bid farewell to this tale, we wonder. Have you ever had a strange encounter that you could never explain, yet you know it is true? Please share your experiences with us on our new message center, where you can leave a voicemail or text message at fanlist.com/pantopen. That's F-A-N-L-I-S-T dot com slash pantopen. Who knows, with your permission, we may make your story into an episode on the podcast. We look forward to hearing from you. Thank you for being a part of the Pantopen community. Please rate, review, and follow us. Also, share this podcast with your friends and family. If you enjoyed this story and wish access to the transcript or have any comments, you can find links in the show notes. Thanks for tuning in. We wish you all the best. And until we meet again, remember, stories never end. They only take a break. Until next time, keep the tales alive. Pantopen, where a chef trades the sizzle of pans for the power of the pen, is written, produced, and edited by Tate Basildon, who holds the copyright herein.[Music][Commentary audio ends](instrumental banjo)