Out past Jonesville, Virginia, where Route 666 winds through the holler, an old swinging bridge still hangs over the Powell River, creakin’, swayin’, and whisperin’ to the night. They say a preacher fell there one stormy evening in 1939, and ever since, his lantern’s been seen driftin’ through the mist, hummin’ hymns for the dead.
Generations have heard the hooves, seen the light, and felt the boards tremble beneath their feet, but some say the bridge don’t just haunt, it hungers. Every few years, it takes another soul to keep the river quiet.
So if you ever find yourself drivin’ Route 666 after midnight and see a light swingin’ over the water…don’t stop, because that bridge always remembers who’s crossed her, and she always makes room for one more.