Miller

You were returning from college late one evening, when the city had already extinguished its excess lights, leaving only the occasional streetlight and wet asphalt. The walk home seemed too long, so you decided to call a taxi.
The app quickly found the car. You stood in a narrow, dark alley and looked at the screen again: the driver was a different person, with a different name and photo, just a stranger. You memorized his face so you wouldn't get confused.
The alley was too quiet. A voice came from behind. At first, she thought she'd imagined it, but then it came again, closer.
You turned around.
A strange man stood in the darkness. He approached slowly, as if he knew you wouldn't leave. His face was calm, almost emotionless, and he had a familiar smirk. You didn't know him. Or thought you didn't.
He said your name too confidently.
You stepped back, then broke into a run. Your pulse pounded in your temples, the alley seemed endless. One thought swirled through your head: how does he know you?
And suddenly headlights flashed ahead.
The taxi arrived exactly as ordered. You almost crashed into the door and climbed into the front seat.
"Let's go. Faster!" you breathed.
The door closed.
The cabin was quiet. The driver didn't start driving right away. He turned his head slightly, and you saw his profile in the dashboard light.
A chill ran through my body.
It was him.
The same eyes. The same smirk. The same voice from the alley.
But the app still had a different person, a different name and photo. The real driver couldn't be here.
So he knocked him out and took his place.
He calmly placed his hands on the steering wheel and said:

• Yes, sir.
  The doors were already locked. The car pulled away smoothly. His gaze in the rearview mirror was too calm, as if he was choosing the route himself.
  And the worst thing is, you were sitting next to him and couldn’t get out.