Punching the Creepy Clock — Five Workplace Horror Stories

Compilation transcript, edited from an automatic transcription. Minor transcription errors may remain; not checked word for word against the audio. Advertising and the separate opening and closing promotions omitted. Original story introductions and transitions may be retained.

Lucian Greyshire and the Ghost from Applebee's by L.F. Falconer The three young girls in the corner booth continued to stare. Not due to rudeness, Lucian determined, merely out of morbid curiosity. their parents attempted to be more furtive in their sidelong glances and struggled with useless hushed commands to curtail their daughter's blatant surveillance lucian no longer cared with three quarters of his body severely scarred from a house fire he'd survived as a child 40 years ago he'd grown hardened to the horrified scrutiny of others the secretive glimpses the whispers behind his back.

At one time, his disfigurements brought him shame. Now he wore these scars with honor, deeming his outer grotesqueness more valuable than his business card. A man no one truly wanted to see, yet one not so easily forgotten. If he caused anyone nightmares along his journey through life, he lost no sleep over it. Harried to the point of distraction by their children, the two adults in the corner booth remained oblivious to the fact that half their current troubles were caused by the antics of the youthful poltergeist hovering above their table.

A spilled glass of milk, the forks fallen to the floor, the plate of french fries toppled onto the youngest girl's lap had nothing to do with the carelessness of rambunctious children, and at this moment the ghost was ever so slowly unscrewing the cap on the salt shaker. Lucian savored the final bite of his lemon chicken, then dabbed his napkin over the thin lips below the cartiliginous remnants of his nose. He rose to his feet and placed enough cash on his meal check to cover his lunch as well as a generous tip. in response to his appearance the server had neither bulked nor overcompensated shrugging on his wool jacket he took pity on the beleaguered parents in their challenge to maintain a sense of decorum amid the chaos especially as the children's father had just ruined his own meal with a full shaker of salt spilled upon it the poltergeist above the table glowed in rapid pulses of jade green Leaving his table, Lucian limped directly to the booth the family occupied.

Everyone at the table fell, transfixed, as if they'd all just been caught with their hands in the till. Lucian greeted them with a courteous bow. Good afternoon. He raised his one good eye to acknowledge the ghost hovering above. Bemusedly, the ghost cocked an eyebrow, then darted to the left side of the table taking refuge, behind a potted imitation philodendron. Lucian straightened his gaunt frame and withdrew a business card from his inner jacket pocket.

Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lucian Grayshire, and I have a business proposal if you'd be interested. He handed his card to the father, then glanced over at the ghost who peeked through the kelly green leaves, giving the young shade a polite nod. The man at the table seemed hesitant to accept the card, but once he took it into his possession, he scanned it out loud. Let the dead bring your party to life.

Grayshire Incorporated. Unique Halloween Entertainment Services. He looked up at Lucian with knitted brows. What's this about? I'm in need of an assistant events coordinator. Lucian glanced back over at the ghost. If you're interested, meet me in the park across the street within the hour. He kept his one-eyed gaze on the ghost. I already have a job. The man at the table tried to hand the business card back, but Lucian stepped away from the table and gave another slight bow.

I'll be waiting should you be interested. His papery lips smiled at the ghost before he turned and departed the restaurant. A somber sky loomed above, gray with pewter clouds billowing like dust. Lucian breathed deeply of the air, still wet from last night's tempest and laced with faint hints of pine, damp bark, and blight. Dying boughs and limbs ripped from their hosts and tossed haphazardly by the uncaring gale littered the park's greensward.

Lucian blessed the previous night's storm. The howling winds had covered every muffled scream. The man's name had been Daniel. He was 67 years old, and now he was dead. October leaves in persimmon, amber, and blood crunched beneath Lucian's feet while crisp, lake-eerie air nipped at his exposed, disfigured flesh. He settled onto a park bench, his muscles aching, strained from last night's activities. Out of his jacket pocket, he removed a well-used paperback copy of Peter Nichols' A Day in the Death of Joe Egg.

He'd barely read three pages when an adolescent apparition tentatively drifted near. Lucian looked up from his book. Though little more than a translucent shadow, the ghost featured a clinging wet t-shirt dark jeans and high top athletic shoes he looked to have been maybe 15 or 16 at the time of his death his dark damp ribbons of hair plastered against his skull last night's events flickered through lucian's mind in high-speed clips cold waters whipped to a frenzy by boisterous wind daniel's hand clawing at lucian's own as he gurgled within the spume The young shade scooted swiftly to the left.

With a steady gaze, Lucian's good eye trailed the movement. The shade darted back to the right, still fixed beneath Lucian's magnetic stare. The ghost took a minor step closer. You can really see me? Lucian closed his book. Indeed. Was this job offer really for me or for him? the ghost jerked his head in the direction of the restaurant across the street for you of course i thought i'd made that pretty clear you was a bit fuzzy mate i believe it would have been awkward to speak to you directly when it's only i who am aware of your presence i'm not certain why you're trying to pull off a phony accent i happen to know you're an american the ghost took a step back, crossing his arms.

And what makes you so smart, huh? Lucian winked his sighted eye. I know many things. It's what I do. The ghost jutted his chin forward. But I guess you don't know my mum's Canadian. Lucian flipped his jacket collar up to keep the lake chilled air off his neck. Point taken, but that's neither here nor there. The important thing is that you've come. You may call me Lucian, and what may I call you?

Anything you like, I suppose. In another life, I believe they called me Patrick, but can't recall the last time I heard the name. Could just be a name I like. I don't know. There's not much about life I can remember. He relaxed, looking lucian directly in the eye it's kind of like a shattered mirror life i mean my life and i'm afraid if i try to put the pieces back together i i might not like what i see other than looking like a drowned rat you're not a bad looking fellow the ghost faded slightly it's not about my looks i'm invisible unlike you meaning no offense but dude really lucian shook his head no offense taken and there's no need to pick up the pieces it could do you no good now he swiftly caught a wayward breeze blown newspaper page beneath his foot anchoring it to the ground patrick it is then the name suits you so tell me patrick would you like the job patrick settled on to the seat beside him what's in it for me i'm free to come and go as i please don't have to answer to anyone i dare say you're rather bored and lonely lucian thought a feeling he knew too well being little more than a living wraith himself but what a pitiful way to spend eternity tormenting children in a restaurant and an applebee's no less ah that's why you're wrong mate i've no ties to the restaurant and i wasn't tormenting the children i was tormenting the parents you hold a grudge against parents do you it would seem that way now wouldn't it but i can't say for sure could just be something i do for kicks you know probably one of those broken pieces patrick leaned forward elbows on his knees so how come you can see me and hear me when no one else can the crackle of flames and the smell of charred wood inundated lucian's memory smoke billowing beneath the locked bedroom door.

On the other side, his father shouts, heavy footfalls, leaving. Help me, Daddy! Lucian's frantic cries, eyes burning, throat constricting, hot smoke wrapping him in a shroud. I was dead once myself, he admitted, glancing over at the ghost beside him. A fireman resuscitated me. He had been brought back to life. His mother and brother had been more fortunate, not having to live the ordeal over and over and over again. The nightmares had long ago disappeared, making way for vivid, waking memories.

Patrick straightened in his seat. That's how you got all them scars, eh? That's rough, man. But that don't explain much. Other folks have been resuscitated, but no one's ever seen me before, so why you? For nearly a year during my recovery i remained in a state of flux or half-life if you will forced against his will into a world of forgotten shadows lucian continued to keep one foot in reality and the other foot in the grave a part of me still dwells in the realm of lost souls some people might consider that a curse but uh i view it as a unique gift for i am in a position to offer those in limbo some comfort limbo sucks especially if you're invisible patrick's voice broke upon his words it was impossible to give the boy a hug lucian had to rely on speech that's why you feel compelled to cause chaos it's the only way you can validate your dismal existence patrick leaned back clasped his hands and twiddled his thumbs staring up at the steely cloud-studded sky a pair of starlings roosted, chattering quietly in the bare treetops above.

Patrick shot up like a rocket and thumped the branch, startling the birds into flight. As Patrick settled back onto the bench beside him, Lucian stowed his book away in his pocket. What I am offering you, Patrick, is a chance to do something productive with your existence. I could use a man of your talents. I have no talent. But you do. Very few spirits have the ability to move objects. I can only do it if they're not too heavy.

I can't budge anything over a couple of pounds, and I don't know why you'd want a limbo ghost anyway. We're a pathetic bunch. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, bored, like you said, and boring to boot. I can do nothing about whatever is holding you here, but I can offer you a sense of purpose. After tomorrow, I'll be moving on. this is an opportunity you may never come across again patrick kicked at the leaves below his feet swirling them in a colorful dance upon the sidewalk doing what exactly helping me in my endeavors that's all what kind of endeavors what do you do besides no many things well for one i throw parties.

Huge Halloween parties for the filthy rich, excruciating extravaganzas, really. But I always deliver on my clients' contracts, and they're willing to pay me quite well. Parties, huh? I think there's more to it than that. You said, for one, so... what's for two? Talented and attentive. Even better, Lucian thought, allowing his good eye to wander the immediate vicinity for a moment. The threat of more stormy weather kept the park relatively deserted. Ensured there was no one nearby, he quietly confided.

For two, I kill people. Patrick sprang from the bench. Hold a minute. He raised his hand in a stop action and took a step back. Tormenting folks is one thing, but I want no part in killing innocents. Unapologetically, Lucian stared up at him. Only children are innocent. The rest of us are all guilty of something. Think of me as an extension of justice. Are you like some kind of hitman, or do people only pay you for parties?

Lucian hesitated momentarily. I do get paid for hosting parties. Quite well, in fact. Yet there are some clients who request an extra dash of pepper on their salad, so to speak. Patrick paced the concrete, stirring the leaves beneath his feet back into action. I don't know, mate. I start doing real harm to folks and next thing you know I'm yanked straight into hell. Lucian folded his gnarled hands, his sightless eye gleaming dully in the muted daylight.

I would never ask you to harm anyone. That pleasure is reserved for me and me alone. I simply need help in orchestrating my events, hence the job title of Assistant Events Coordinator. Your soul and conscience remain unsullied. A young couple holding hands strolled by, giving Lucian a wide berth. They passed through Patrick, causing him to fade in and out. He stopped pacing and lunged towards Lucian. Ripping the newspaper page from beneath his foot, He swatted the couple with it on the back of their heads before setting the page free in the breeze.

His bone-colored face distorted by deep thought. He swept back to Lucian's side. I'm still not sure this is something I should be taking pot in, if you know what I mean, he muttered. The killing pot. I understand your concerns, Patrick. Yet you seem to enjoy tormenting the living and that's all I would ever expect you to do. During the party. would you be willing to give it a trial run i have an event scheduled tomorrow night at gates hotel a party at the gates patrick snorted and took a step back well that should be a hoot those two snobby sisters there don't much care for company dead or alive carrying on like the world belongs to only them that's odd lucian said i found them to be rather charming it had been those sisters who'd led him to Patrick, who'd told him of the boy's talent and revealed the details of his untimely death.

And since the hotel is slated to be raised before Christmas, Jasmine and Ruby have graciously agreed to help me host this year's event. One last hurrah for them, so to speak. With them two, you've already got the best. What do you need me for? Lucian spoke with a smile. the sisters may be capable of vivid manifestation and bone-chilling audio but they cannot move things the party guests will be expecting a magnificent haunted experience i prefer to give them a night to truly remember a green aura glowed from within and patrick smiled most of these people are parents right i would assume so and i don't have to take part in no killing?

Lucian nodded. Rest assured, that contract has already been completed. A small white lie. Sometimes a party was simply a party and a target a deliciously convenient coincidence. Patrick gusted across the sidewalk, knocking the hat off the woman pushing a baby carriage, then sidled back to Lucian's side. Can I ask who it was? No, you may not. Not even a clue? Lucian ran a ragged finger across the thinly stretched skin of his missing lips, as if zipping them shut.

There was no need to tell the lad. It had been his father. Lucian's own father may have been unsuccessful, but Patrick's had seen the deed through. For thirty years, Patrick has wandered in the realm of lost souls, and last night, the father, like the son, unwillingly surrendered his life within the cold, dark waters of Lake Erie. He wondered, had Patrick fought as hard to survive as Daniel had? Lucian rose from the bench.

Stick with me, Patrick, and I promise you you will never be forced to carry the burdens of my sin. Now, shall we go? There's a pair of fine 19th century sisters I'd like you to meet. Lucian limped down the walkway. the leaves beside him swirling in a kaleidoscopic dance. Well, that's one way to spend your lunch break. Looking for new jobs is not an uncommon occurrence in the workplace. In fact, I remember when I had my first job, there was actually a pie chart they had printed out that had what people are doing on their computers.

And no joke, 14% of the pie chart was looking for other jobs. Now, I don't know what they wanted me to do with that information. And frankly, I don't care now, but food for thought. For my people working at home right now, are you waiting on a delivery from Amazon or UPS, the postal service, DoorDash? Well, this next story is all about the interesting things that can come up when you work as a delivery driver.

It's all about driving a delivery truck until maybe you have one passenger that just makes you a little trepidatious. And we'll hear that after these quick words. I used to drive a delivery truck until the incident. by Michael Kelso. To Harry, my oldest nephew on the cusp of adulthood and looking for his first job, I've been told you want to drive a truck and are looking for me to give you a good recommendation to my former employer.

I'm sorry to say I will not do that. Now, before you get angry or hurt, please listen to why and judge for yourself if you really want to pursue this avenue. I used to drive a delivery truck for a car parts company. It wasn't a bad job. I spent a lot of time alone with my thoughts while driving to various garages to deliver parts. I also listened to a lot of audiobooks as I drove.

It was a wonderful way to pass the time. I could get totally immersed in a book as I was driving endlessly boring miles. I never considered myself to be much of a troublemaker. I would go along to get along, as they say. Working for just above minimum wage while driving on icy roads to the middle of nowhere garages was what I did all the time. I didn't complain about it. Much. At least not to the boss.

But I did my job and I thought I did it well. Apparently, not everyone agreed. One day, I came to work and was shown the new addition to my truck. There was a small box that hung down under the rearview mirror. I asked what it was and they told me it was a camera. What they didn't tell me was it was actually two cameras, one facing out toward the road and one facing in toward the driver.

They were being installed to make sure the drivers were doing their jobs. Now, I had worked for the company for years without a single ticket. I never had any complaints from any of my customers, and I never put a scratch on any of the trucks I drove. So naturally, I took this camera situation as a personal incitement on my driving and on my moral character. I wasn't the only one who wasn't happy about it. but the company's stance was essentially get over it.

This was back when jobs were harder to come by and the company said if we didn't like it, we were welcome to get the hell out. Those of us who needed to pay bills and feed our families decided to keep working and earning a paycheck. After a few months, we mostly forgot the cameras were there and went back to doing what we do, keep our mouths shut and deliver parts, like we had a choice.

The cameras weren't the end of the world that we thought. There were a few write-ups, but they were stupid people doing stupid things. Me, I followed the rules and didn't have any problems. I did what I was supposed to and didn't do what I wasn't supposed to. I know that's a strange concept in today's world. That changed the day the boss told me I was being written up for having a passenger with me.

He recited the rule number in the handbook that clearly stated that no passengers are to be in company vehicles unless approved by a supervisor. I asked him what he was talking about and told him I didn't have any passengers. He told me that the main office had a video of me carrying a passenger along with me. He even quoted the date and time of the offense. I thought back and racked my brain trying to remember if I'd stopped and picked someone up on that day.

And then I remembered. I've never stopped and picked anyone up. Because I know it's against the rules. I thought about getting angry and raising a fuss. I thought about telling them that this was precisely the kind of harassment I expected would happen when these damn cameras were installed. then i remembered their stance of shut up and deal with it or we'll find someone else who will that thought made me calm down and let it slide i chuckled someone must have gotten videos and mixed up i thought no big deal i know the truth i shrugged it off and threw the write-up away when I got it.

My boss told me it didn't really mean anything anyway. Only major infractions were going to be disciplined. I wondered why he'd even told me about it if it didn't mean anything. Driving in traffic and on snow-covered roads in winter was stressful enough, without worrying about the main office saying I did something I didn't do. The following week, I got another write-up. Once again, for having a passenger. I told the boss I hadn't had any passengers.

I told him I follow the rules, and he knows it. Again, he told me. The main office had a video of me driving, with someone, in the passenger seat. At this point, I was starting to get upset. Being accused of something I did was one thing, but being accused of what I've never done and getting written up for it was just too much. I asked the boss to see the video. He pulled it up on the computer.

I watched as he worked through the controls, confident that I was going to find the mistake or the name of the person who actually had committed the infraction and clear my name. But that didn't happen. He pulled up the video and sure enough, there I was driving along. and in the passenger seat was a large middle-aged man just staring out the windshield like he was along for the ride. My mind was having trouble comprehending what I was seeing.

When I pulled myself out of my shocked stupor, I asked the boss what the date was when this happened. He told me and I racked my brain to come up with an answer to this. I peered closer at the screen to make sure I was the driver. There was little doubt. It was me. I was wearing the gray sweatshirt I wear when I drive. I had one hand on the wheel and the other leaning out the window just like I do when I'm bored.

I was wearing my ball cap with the logo of my favorite baseball team. It was me. If only I could figure out who this other person was and what was happening to me. Was I forgetting things? Was I having blackouts and not knowing it? How could this person be in my truck without me knowing? It's not like he was some stowaway hiding amongst the parts in the back. He was sitting three feet away from me.

That person wasn't there, I told the boss. The camera says he was, the boss said. I don't know what to tell you. I wish I could believe you. You've been one of my best drivers, but we're starting to get into repeat offenses. The company is going to take action soon. Take action against what? I said a little louder than I intended. There was no one there. I don't know who has it out for me or who is playing this little Photoshop trick to get me in trouble, but I swear, on a stack of Bibles, that man was never in my truck.

I don't know what to tell you, he said. A thought crossed my mind. Can you see where I pick him up? I said. the boss eyed me you said i have him in my truck i must have picked him up somewhere can you tell me where he looked at the computer and began rewinding the video the miles rolled backwards and the man just sat there watching the windshield then suddenly he disappeared he stopped the video and ran it forward at normal speed i came to a stop sign and the man jumped in.

Pause it, I said. Where is that? He looked at the GPS information that was embedded in the video. The corner of Hamilton and Wright. What's there? I said. He looked at the map. Nothing. I leaned over and saw the same thing. There was nothing around there for at least a half a mile. That's on my normal Thursday route, isn't it? Looks like it. I sat back and thought. He shot me a grim look.

You know this is out of my hands. I stared at him, shocked that this falsehood was going to end up costing me my job. You're my boss, I said. How can it be out of your hands? The main office wants to make an example. Out of me? He nodded slowly. Should I be updating my resume? I said. I would if I were you. I got up, hung my head, and turned to walk away, then paused.

Would you do me a favor? I said. He looked at me skeptically. Depends on what it is. Could you call the main office and ask the person who monitors the trucks to call me if this ever happens again. The boss rubbed his chin as he thought. I guess that could be doable. I nodded and started toward my truck to load for my run. As I drove away from the terminal, my eyes kept darting towards the passenger seat as if I was somehow missing someone climbing into the truck and sitting beside me.

That was the way my entire run went that day. I was so distracted I nearly rear-ended a car at a stop sign. I looked over, and the sign said I was at the corner of Hamilton and Wright. I looked to see what was there, and didn't immediately see anything. I leaned forward to see what was beside me, and paused. There was a small graveyard. It wasn't big enough to register on the map.

There were maybe 30 gravestones altogether. It didn't even have a fence around it. I was pulled from my thoughts by the car behind me honking their horn. I pulled out and started down the road, lost in the thoughts that were chasing each other around in my head. A graveyard, I thought. There's no one I can see. Could it be a... I didn't want to finish the thought. I was never into that kind of thing and never really believed in it.

When the phone rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Hello? I said. This is Carl. I monitor the cameras in the trucks. Look, I know I nearly hit that car, but I'm just a little, a little distracted today. What? No, that's not why I'm calling. Okay. You just bored and need to talk to someone? No, your boss told me to call you when I saw you with a passenger. Yeah, so?

I said, looking over at the empty space beside me. You have a passenger. My entire body turned to ice. Say that again, I said. You have a passenger, he said. I stared at the empty seat. Where? I said. He's sitting in the passenger seat, right beside you he said sounding a little annoyed carl i said that can't be right there's no one besides me that's not true he said his voice rising i can see him plain as day he's wearing a red ball cap overalls and a plaid shirt i was staring at the seat when i looked back at the road there was a truck stopped right in front of me i stood on the brakes hearing them scream and protest but not slowing my truck enough.

I knew I was going to hit him. I swung the wheel over as hard as I could, feeling the truck start to tip, then swung back as I slid to a stop at the berm of the road. I looked at the truck sitting beside me, breathing hard not only from the accident I'd just avoided but also from the news Carl had given me. Okay, Carl, I said in a lower voice as if I didn't want my imaginary passenger to hear. what is my so-called passenger doing he's just staring straight ahead i'm going to try something i said tell me what he does next i hesitated for a moment then reached my hand slowly across the passenger seat i waved it back and forth in the empty air As I did, my hand felt cold, as if I had just stuck it into a freezer.

Oh my god, Carl said. What's happening? Your hand, it's... It's passing right through him. It feels cold. Wait a minute, Carl said. He's doing something. What? He's... he's looking at your hand. I immediately pulled my hand back. What's he doing now? He's looking straight at you. I felt the blood drain out of my face. Holy shit, Carl screamed. Get out of there. Get out now. I fumbled with the door latch, somehow forgetting how to open a door.

When it opened, I tumbled out of the truck. I looked back inside, still not seeing anything. Then I put the phone back up to my ear. Now was all I was able to get out before my world went dark. I woke to a white room, beeping machines and hoses stuck in my arm. I looked around the room and saw a bouquet of flowers that were starting to wilt. A nurse walked into the room with a syringe in her hand.

Where am I? I rasped, causing her to jump. Oh my god, you scared me, she said. Why? Because you've been in a coma for three weeks. what happened don't you remember she said i slowly shook my head you pulled over on the side of the road and jumped out of your truck right into traffic she said you got hit by a car and sustained several life-threatening injuries am i okay now you really should talk to the doctor about that, she said.

Please, I rasped, grasping her hand. She looked around as if someone was listening, then leaned close to my ear. As far as I know, you should make a full recovery, she said. They just aren't sure about your mental state. Why? I heard you were babbling on about seeing things when you first came in. Like what things? Like a goat. How's the patient? An authoritative voice said. The nurse straightened and backed away.

He's awake and seems to be progressing. The nurse said, straightening her uniform. Good, good. The doctor said, let's see how you do in a day or so. Maybe we can have a little talk about when you first came in. I nodded and tried to fake a smile. The following day I received an unexpected visitor. He was a small man, not too far out of his teens by his appearance. He knocked quietly at my door and started to turn around and leave when I said, Can I help you?

Um, yeah, maybe. I don't know, he said. Okay, let's start with who are you? Oh, sorry, he said, stumbling forward and nearly falling on top of me as he held out his hand. I'm Carl. I shook it slowly. Carl, I repeated. Like Carl from the company? He smiled. Like Carl who told me to jump out into traffic and nearly killed me? I said, tightening my grip. He winced and wormed his way out of my grip.

Yeah, about that, he said. Sorry, by the way, but I wanted to explain. Explain what? I said, sitting up, so I might get another chance at him. this he said holding up his phone it's a phone i said sarcastically i've seen them before once or twice i'm sure he said but it's what's on the phone that you need to see okay what's on it he fiddled with the phone for a moment almost dropping it twice then turned it toward me what am i looking at i said as the screen shook give it a minute the screen settled down and I saw it was a recording of me in the truck.

I was mesmerized at the sight of the person sitting next to me. I watched as I waved my hand back and forth through his torso. I saw him look at my hand, then look at me. His face suddenly changed. His smile turned malevolent as it grew impossibly large. the grin extended nearly to his ears and his teeth grew three inches to where he looked like a shark about to attack his fingers they grew into claws and his eyes disappeared into his head turning as black as the abyss i saw him reach for me as i fumbled with the door latch and he swiped his claws at me as i fell out of the cab he leered out the driver's side window at me but stayed in the truck and slowly faded away.

When Carl pulled the phone away, sweat was pouring off my forehead. I looked him in the eye and said, I forgive you. He smiled and said, you're welcome. We sat in silence for a long moment. What did the company have to say about that video? I said. It was deleted off the server the following day, he said. So that's the only copy? Yep, he said, holding up his phone. Do me a favor?

Sure. What is it? Delete it. Are you sure? This is the proof that you weren't lying. I'm sure. I don't ever want to see that thing again. I quit driving a truck for a living after that. I never again drove past the corner of Hamilton and Wright. I'll go miles out of my way just to avoid it. And I suggest you do the same. Who here's worked the graveyard shift? Well, I technically haven't, at least not in the traditional sense, But every time I sit down at the microphone and talk to you spookies, it's midnight in my heart and mind.

And this story is all about working the late shift and how you truly never know who you're going to meet. Now, of course, there are monsters, there are ghosts, there are ghouls and goblins you could meet. But what if you ran into something even more terrifying? What if you ran into true love? We're going to dig deep into that gruesome truth after these quick words from our sponsors. Convenience Store Vampire by Douglas Waltz After high school, I bummed around for the summer until I realized that being an adult meant having a job of some sort.

Gas and food weren't going to pay for themselves. I was lucky that my mom hadn't kicked me out of the house yet. I was driving down Center Avenue and passed a stop-and-go. stop and go was a chain of convenience stores that tried to compete with 7-eleven it felt like they were every five blocks no matter where you went there was another one this one had one of those little help wanted signs in the giant windows in the front next to the beer and cigarette posters i figured i had nothing left to lose so i pulled into the little parking lot got out of my car and went inside.

All stop-and-go stores were identical. If you'd seen Kevin Smith's movie Clerks, you have a pretty good idea of what I was looking at. The biggest difference was the space behind the counter was elevated by about a foot, so you always had to look down on the customers. No idea why. And behind the counter was one Janet Rigby, the manager of this particular stop-and-go. Janet's measurements were the same as any human beach ball.

She had fashioned a chair from two milk crates wired together. A glance at the bottom of the milk crate told me that the constant pressure of Janet setting on it was going to cause a collapse soon. Now I knew I needed the job. How could I miss the day she went for a tumble? I know it was mean, but at the tender age of 18, stuff like this was funny. We chatted for a minute and she let me know it would be a night shift, but this particular stop and go didn't stay open 24 hours a day.

It closed at 2 a.m. Sounded good to me, so I was glad to start work the next day. Training took about an hour. I learned the register and how to make money orders. Apparently, a lot of people needed money orders. I met the other employee, Kathy, who was cute, but always had that look in her eye that she wished she was somewhere else. Other than that, I was ready to go, and Janet and Kathy left me to my own devices.

Center Avenue is actually a pretty busy street in Portage, but my shift started after 5, so I didn't get much of a rush. Just a few customers straggling in at various times of the night. I was so happy to see the huge stacks of VHS tapes for rent in a rack that was positioned by the door. There was a little TV mounted to the rack that had a built-in VCR, and it had a tape that played previews of what we had to rent.

I asked Janet if I could pick some movies to put on the rack, and she showed me how to fill out the form for the guy who showed up every other week. Being a huge horror movie fan, it didn't take long for the racks to have a pretty decent selection of horror movies. When it was slow, I would take out the preview tape and put in one of the movies I picked, and just stand there with a can of soda and watch a movie.

To give you an idea of how slow it was, one time I watched an entire movie before I heard the doorbell ping as someone opened it. As far as jobs for 18-year-olds go, it was pretty nice. One night, I was watching this movie called Track of the Moon Beast. It's about this guy who gets a piece of moon rock embedded in him, and he turns into a monster. The VHS cover is gorgeous, but the movie is kind of, well, less than stellar.

As I was watching it, I felt the short hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I turned around, and a vision of loveliness was standing behind me, tall and lanky with a shock of platinum blonde hair. Her face was made up with a thin layer of makeup, and ruby red lipstick made her lips even more pronounced than they already were. she had on a t-shirt with the cover from the clash london calling album on it and denim shorts with big black work boots rainbow suspenders made popular by robin williams on mork and mindy complimented the rest of the outfit and when i jumped upon seeing her she flashed a huge smile with white pearly teeth sorry didn't mean it to scare you she giggled when she said it no problem i replied trying to sound cool and failing miserably what you watching oh this uh yeah track of the moon beast guy gets infected by a moonstone that turns him into a monster oh i've seen this then she continued to stare at the screen watching the movie with me after a minute i decided to be brave and said you want a soda i can get you one for free if you want no thanks she continued to watch the screen in fascination i found myself looking at her more than the monster movie it was as if i was trying to memorize her face it was like looking at someone made of porcelain she caught me looking once smiled and went back to watching the movie when it was over we were the only people in the place and she stretched like a cat before walking down the aisles, not really looking for anything.

You like the movie? She asked. It was okay. I lied. To be honest, my focus was entirely on her. Then something slipped into my mind. I hadn't heard the bell that goes off when you open the door. I always heard the bell. My brain had trained itself like a Pavlovian response. How did she get inside the store? I turned to ask her and realized that I was alone in the store. Not only did she get in without triggering the bell, but she had left the same way.

I checked the back room where we kept the bottle returns and there was nothing there. I even went in the cooler and nothing. Empty. I shrugged to no one and finished my closing duties and left for the night. After a week, I was still wrapped up in that girl. She was all I could think of. I came to work hoping that she would return, and nothing happened. For about two weeks, I was stocking the coolers with beer from the inside.

We had a couple of rows of singles for people that couldn't afford a six-pack. Pretty sure we weren't supposed to do that, but the boss told me it would be fine. I could grab six long neck bottles and two hands which made it go pretty fast. I learned to stack cans of beer along my arm and it was about six cans. I was young and didn't want to actually do work so I figured out the quickest way to do it.

As I stood up with six cans of hams a familiar face was outside the glass door of the cooler. Smiling at me I wasn't ready. I dropped all the cans. Luckily, only one of them spilt, and it whirled around the cooler, spraying hams everywhere. Shit! I exclaimed and went into cleanup mode. I needed some paper towels and the mop, probably, so I stepped out of the cooler right into the girl, standing there, waiting for me.

I'm sorry, she said sheepishly. It's okay, I stammered and cursed myself for it. I hadn't heard the bell again. That was even weirder because there was a bell in the cooler in case you were working and a customer came in. How the hell was she not setting off the goddamn bell? I went in the back for the mop and paper towels, and when I returned to the cooler, she was still there.

Let me help. She took the roll of paper towels and went into the cooler before I could say anything. I followed with the mop. we cleaned up the mess and i restocked the shelves she stood there the whole time watching me so i never got your name the other night when we were watching the movie she said quietly it's arthur what's yours my name's elizabeth and she smiled that amazing smile again and i could feel the blood rush into my head she tilted her head and looked at me as if i was some new form of life and then she slowly moved towards me and kissed me on the lips.

I felt my entire body tingle with electricity and was amazed at how cold her lips were. Then I remembered we were in the cooler and I kissed her back. After a few minutes of that, she gently pushed me away. I was amazed at how strong she was. I have to go, she said, and walked out of the cooler. It took me a second to regain my bearings. and I followed her out.

In that split second, I discovered I was again alone in the store. The bell broke my train of thought, and it was one of my regular customers, Old Man Johnson. He was the only reason we stocked hams. No one else ever bought a single can of that stuff, but Old Man Johnson would buy a case every three days or so without fail. We chatted for a bit like we always did. He asked me if House by the Cemetery was worth a rental, and I told him it was so he got that with his beer and headed out the store.

Two weeks went by before I saw Elizabeth again. This time I was just hanging out at the counter so she had no way of sneaking up on me. I had been counting packs of cigarettes as one of my nightly duties and was looking down but something triggered my peripheral vision and I saw her approach the counter. After that, it was always a couple of weeks, and we talked, watched movies, and kissed sometimes.

Then one day I came into work, and Janet was staring at me. Arthur, come with me, she said in a serious tone, and I followed her to the back room. There was a door that I had never even seen before, and she fished a key from her smock and opened it. The room was dark except for four monitors that showed various areas of the store. I knew we had security cameras, but I didn't know this room in here was what it fed into.

Cool room, boss. Janet grunted and then messed with the control panel. The next thing I saw was me at the counter. No one else in the store. But I was talking to someone. I was just flipping through various time codes on the monitors when I spotted this. Arthur, who are you talking to here? I was grateful that the cameras were video only, no audio. I was also glad that she hadn't come across one where Elizabeth and I were kissing.

Ah, you know, I was just bored and messing around. I leaned closer to the monitor and Janet watched me look at the screen. Man, it does look like I'm talking to someone. looks really good maybe i should be an actor or something i gave a nervous laugh janet nodded and then she laughed her big booming laugh i figured as much you're a good kid arthur and you don't steal from the store except for the occasional can of pop she looked at the watch that barely fit around her huge wrist well time for you to go to work and time for me to get the hell out of here.

Let's go. She ushered me out of the room and back to my shift. That night, I located the four cameras and tried to find a dead spot, a place where none of them could see me if Elizabeth returned. As I was running the math through my mind, I found it odd that the fact that she didn't register on the camera was the least of my concerns. With each meeting, All I knew is that I would count the days until she returned.

It was all I wanted. I got my wish a few days later, but it came at a terrible price. I was sweeping the floors when I saw her come through the door again. No bell. She saw me and waved and I continued to sweep the floor so I could lead her to the dead spot by the giant display of two liter soda bottles in the back corner of the store. she came up and hugged me and we kissed then i heard the bell a guy came in and his wide eyes darted everywhere he seemed confused that there was no one manning the counter i spoke up and walked to my post behind the counter as i was about to ask how i could help him the gun came out every pore of my body released all the sweat that had been lying beneath the surface all I could see was that gun and I was amazed at how huge it was he shouted at me to give him the money from the register my hands felt like they belonged to someone else as I fumbled with the keys to open it he shouted at me to move it or he was going to shoot me and I got it open and put the meager stack of bills in a bag for him he didn't ask for a bag but I did it anyway as I went to hand him the bag, I saw Elizabeth behind him.

She appeared as if by magic, and her mouth had opened to an impossible degree, and all I could see was the huge, sharp fangs. As they plunged into the guy's neck, he twitched and fired at me point-blank. I could feel a white-hot pain and lanced through my chest, and I knew I was done for. Everything went dark. And then I woke up screaming, sitting up immediately. I looked at my chest, and while the shirt was bloody, there was no hole.

Nothing. And there was the porcelain-smooth, beautiful face of Elizabeth. She was stroking my hair and smiling at me. Then she explained everything. When the man shot me, she knew that she could never lose someone who had been so sweet to her. Someone who just wanted to be with her. She told me she was a vampire and had used her powers to turn me into a vampire before I had bled out and died.

I asked about the guy with the gun and she just blew it off and shushed me as she continued to stroke my hair. then she told me the rules of vampirism a lot of them were what you would expect but some movies just got it all wrong garlic for instance and we could eat food if we wanted i looked at all the blood in the store and when i suggested we clean it up she shook her head dawn was approaching and that thing about sunlight was totally true.

I grabbed a piece of paper from the back counter and a pen and in huge letters I wrote, I quit. Elizabeth and I stepped out into the night and into an eternity of never-ending love. Speaking of the night shift, What if you were working in a grocery store, let's say, somewhere where you don't have to deal with customers, but you are there all night? Well, I'd say you'd feel pretty perturbed when you had an unexpected guest who's interested in slashing a lot more than just prices.

And that's what this next story is all about. The Night Stocker. See what they did there? It's pretty good. So, maybe it's time to take a little break and get yourself super cozy for this next story. Because we're listening to it right after these quick words from our sponsors. The Night Stocker by Shane Migliavacca. millicent richards Milly to her friends sat on the edge of her bed pulling on her sneakers she took a deep breath lost in her thoughts tonight she would begin her first real job and on halloween no less A lot less fun than trick-or-treating with Annette Wilson and Diane Samuels.

Damn. Milly sure as hell didn't want to go tonight, but she needed the money, and her parents could use the help. She stood. On the radio, Bobby Brown was singing about calling the Ghostbusters while a muted Night of the Living Dead played on the television. She picked up her bargain groceries cap and adjusted it on her head. She took a moment to look at herself in the mirror. Smartly dressed in her crisp new blue and gold uniform, her light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail.

Not too bad. Switching the TV and radio off, Milly picked up her Walkman and orange book bag. She turned to leave, but first, turned to her poster of Patrick Swayze, which hung on her bedroom door. Wish me luck. She headed downstairs. The staircase railing was decorated with orange pumpkin-shaped lights. Her mother always went all out for the holidays. Rise from the grave, an artificial voice commanded from her brother's video game in the living room.

See you later, Russ. Without taking his eyes off the TV, Russ waved back. Milly stepped into the hall, taking her coat from the closet. Can we manage, Barb? Milly heard her father in the kitchen. We can try. The extra money will definitely help. Is it enough? I... I don't know, her mother answered. Milly went to the door quietly and exited the house, unnoticed. Witches, zombies, and skeletons rushed up and down the street on the hunt for candy or mischief.

She clipped the Walkman to her belt and slid on the headphones. Retrieving her bicycle from the garage, Milly weaved her way through her mom's crazy lawn decorations and passed a pair of ghosts arguing over who had more candy. She'd felt a bit self-conscious about going out in her uniform, but it was Halloween night. Everybody was dressed up as something. Milly just happened to look like a bargain groceries clerk. Once Milly was on the road, she pedaled faster and faster, scared she might be late.

Shit, she came to a stop. A gaggle of trick-or-treaters and their chaperone were crossing the intersection. Damn it, Milly swore under her breath. Come on, come on. A car roared up alongside her, its engine drowning out her music. The red firebird sat, waiting for the procession of kids to cross. Heavy metal cranked to the stereo's highest volume level blared over the thunder of the engine. Milly knew the car. She'd seen it several times at school.

Milly felt the two men inside, watching her. Hey, Troy, look at this. It's a working girl. Get off the bike, darling. I got something you can ride. And it's a stick shift. Milly gulped. Come on, kids, come on. She tensed up. After the kids had all crossed, the car mercifully roared away. Milly exhaled and pedaled on. She skidded to a stop by the bike rack outside of Bargain Groceries. The parking lot was fairly dead, only some last-minute shoppers left.

Milly quickly chained her bike up. The sudden sound of heavy metal music made her heart skip a beat. A familiar red firebird slowly drove past the store. She watched as it passed, turning off onto a side street. There wasn't much time to worry about if they were looking for her or not, as Milly was pretty sure she was late for her first night on the job. The automatic doors swished open. Hey, a young woman called.

Over here, O.C. OC was Milly's nickname from way back, given to her by her best friend at the time, Samantha Vale. A cute redhead waved her over to the break room entrance. She was wearing a uniform like Milly's, but she had an eye patch and a fake mustache on for Halloween. Quick, punch in! You got a minute to go! The girl held open the break room door. Just inside the door of the break room was a time clock.

Milly pulled out her punch card and pulled the machine's lever. Just in time. Thanks, Sam, Milly said. Sam had always been a good friend, though high school social status had caused them to drift. They had finally reconnected and their friendship was stronger than ever. Stow your bag and jacket in the locker. I'll take you to meet John. He's out back. Sam pointed to Milly's walkman. Better stow that too. John's not into having that shit on the job.

He's not too bad. He just has his own way of doing stuff. Hi, the cashier said as they walked past. Milly noted he was wearing pointy fangs. Avast me hearty, Sam laughed. This is Brian. hey Milly you working here now she felt a rush of embarrassment brian knew her but she didn't recognize him at all yeah i sure do she struggled he looked a little disappointed i i sat behind you in english mr kendrick's class oh sorry right she still didn't recognize him Good to see you, she lied.

Thankfully, Sam led her away. John's a cool boss. Can be a little intense sometimes because he was in NOM. Milly followed Sam to the back of the store through large double doors. A sign read, Employees Only. The back area was stuffed with racks and pallets filled with various products piled high. In a cramped little corner in the back was a desk. A middle-aged man sat, talking on the phone. He had the usual store uniform on as well as a thick pair of glasses.

His dark brown hair was cut in a neat crew cut that matched his neatly trimmed mustache. All right, I understand. He wrote something on a pad. Special shipment. Got it. We'll be ready. He hung up. Hi, John. I'm not disturbing anything, am I? Sam asked. No. Joker's from corporate are sending a special shipment for me to unload tonight. He took out a metal lighter and cigarette. Lighting up, he turned to Milly.

New girl? Milly nodded. Behind him was a sign that read no smoking next to that sign was a picture of john snuggling with a tiger cub wearing a camouflage cap both things summed up john perfectly you come very highly recommended well sam blushed i better get back out there she left leaving Milly with john so i'll lay out some ground rules around here and what you should expect to be doing work-wise he opened the desk drawer taking out a clip-on holster with a box cutter.

You'll need this. He handed it to her, taking a puff of his cigarette. Clip it onto your belt or pocket. He looked at her shirt. Did they give you an ID badge? She reached into her pocket, trying to fish it out. He stood, crushing his cigarette under his heel. Skip it. Come on. I'll give you the cheap tour. I have a little test for you. She followed him to an aisle of paper products.

Paper towels, boxes of facial tissue, and toilet paper. He arranged some rolls of toilet paper neatly on the shelf. We call this facing or blocking. It basically creates the appearance that the shelves are perfectly stocked. You do this by pulling a couple of products on the shelf to the front. We also pull down anything that's double stacked. He demonstrated for Milly a couple more times. Among some rolls of paper towels, he found a jar of peanut butter, causing him to grumble under his breath.

See this? We call these returns or reshops. People are... they're lazy bastards. They like to leave stuff they don't want all over the store. Some do it just to be dicks. He shook his head. You find something like this, return it to its proper place later. Unless it's something like meat, dairy, or frozen. and those are top priority and need to go back ASAP. Milly nodded, trying to process all of the new information.

I have a few things to take care of. I want you to get a feel for doing it. Take your time. Do as much as you can. I'll be back to tell you how much you screwed it up. Milly looked at him, unsure. John laughed. Do your best. I'll be back in a bit. He left, leaving Milly alone in the aisle. She wandered up and down before deciding to start on one end and work her way down.

After a few minutes of work, Milly was starting to relax some. This was kind of like Tetris, neatly arranging the brightly colored boxes together. This brand here, that brand there. She stepped back to admire her work. Hey! She heard Sam call out from the front of the store. Peeking around a display of paper towels, Milly saw Sam confronting two girls. Milly recognized them, the McNabb sisters. They'd hung in the preppy crowd.

I saw you, Sam said. You put a couple beers in your purse and tried to walk out. Oh, please, Terry McNabb scoffed. Do you know who our father is? Yeah, Skids, Carrie McNabb added. She felt bad for Sam. Skids, that's what they call anybody from the poorer section of town. Why would we steal, Terry pointed out? Our father could own you. Yes, Skids, Daddy could bulldoze your little trailer park hovel in a heartbeat.

Milly knew Sam was holding back. If she didn't need the job so much, she would have given both sisters a good ass-kicking. Pretty good, kid, John said. Milly jumped. she'd been so wrapped up in her thoughts as she worked she hadn't noticed him standing there although you've been adjusting that one roll of paper towels for a good minute or two you're gonna make love to it Milly set the roll down embarrassed john checked his watch letting out a whistle almost that time gotta close up the store carry on with what you're doing just don't fondle any more paper towels he left her alone again After a few minutes, John came on the intercom.

The store will be closing in five minutes. Please make your final purchases. Thank you for choosing Bargain Groceries, and have a good night. A few minutes later, the lights dimmed just a little. Milly continued working. Without the din of shoppers, she could hear the store's musack. Trick or treat, OC! Sam stood at the end of the aisle holding a couple of candy bars. Brian stood next to her. Sam handed Milly a chocolate bar.

Brian looked at Milly, confused. OC? A nickname, Milly answered. Ask Sam. Brian turned to Sam. Maybe I'll tell you the story sometime. Sam snapped her bar in two. If you can guess what it stands for. Milly crinkled the candy bar wrapper, sticking it into her pocket. What are you guys still doing here? We got volunteered with that special shipment coming in. Sam explained. There was an audible click as the intercom came to life.

A robotic female voice sounded. Front end. Front end has a call on line five. Ten to one the truck just got here, Sam said. The intercom crackled to life again. This time the automated voice was replaced by John's. Sam to the back room. I repeat, Sam to the back room. Sam started down the aisle. Duty calls. so what now Milly asked brian adjusted his plastic fangs i guess we'll just finish this aisle and then do the next sounds like a plan ocean cruise billie asked offhand excuse me oh see just taking a guess Milly laughed sorry no uh obsessive compulsive uh no damn i'll get it sooner or later.

After a few moments, they finished up and moved to aisle two, which had a view of the parking lot. Milly stopped. The sight of something sitting in the parking lot gave her a chill. No, no, no. She walked towards the front of the store. Hey, what's up? Brian asked. That. Milly pointed nervously out the large front window. The firebird sat there under a light pole. Milly shuddered. What about that car? The assholes in the car harassed me on the way here.

Brian sighed. Damn it. He shook his head. Those two are always making trouble. You know them? Stay here, I'll go talk to them. Milly watched, feeling helpless as Brian left. She watched Brian walk across the parking lot. She needed to get John. Running over to the intercom, Milly fumbled with the buttons. Her first attempt was greeted by ear-splitting feedback. Her second and third attempts were no better. On the fourth try, her nervous voice boomed throughout the store.

Um, hello? Hello? Uh, John to the front! Repeat! John to the front! Hurry! The sound of her struggling to hang up the intercom receiver boomed throughout the store. She waited, expecting John to come rushing. Instead, nothing happened. Milly ran back to the front window and peered out. Brian stood by the firebird, talking to the driver. Not exactly the tense confrontation she'd expected. Movement in the reflection of the glass made her turn in surprise.

John? There was nobody. Something hit the floor in one of the aisles. Guys? She walked by a display of Halloween candy. A plastic candy-filled skull grinned at her. Maybe this was a Halloween prank. Hazing the new girl. Milly turned back to check on how Brian was doing, only to see the firebird driving slowly towards the store. Brian nowhere in sight. She watched as the car drove by the front of the store.

The interior was too dark to make out its occupants. Milly felt her heart beat faster and faster in her chest. She'd have to go out there and look. Brian could be lying, hurt, out of sight somewhere. There was a first aid kit on the wall next to the intercom. She grabbed it before heading out. Pushing the door open, Milly stepped outside into what felt like a dangerous, alien land. Brian? She called out, her voice cracking and low.

Milly wanted to grab her bike, get home, and hide under the covers. she needed to get john he'd know what to do Milly hurried back inside and locked the door sliding on the high polished floor she hurried to the back of the store nearly toppling a display of halloween themed cereal barreling through the double doors into the back Milly stopped for a second to catch her breath john she called between gasps sam silence except for the low constant rumble of the overhead heater.

The loading dock was empty. The overhead door was open, letting in the cool autumn air where it poured in around the semi-trucks backed up to the dock. Guys? Milly started to panic. She was completely alone. Her eyes scanned the dark, cavernous room the shadows hid countless possible terrors but alas so too did the floor as she slipped in a puddle on its surface landing hard on her knees and hands Milly yelped in pain there was something wet and sticky on her sore hands raising them up she screamed they were coated in a crimson blood there was a trail leading out to the semi-truck and there seemed to be something hanging in the truck's trailer with pained steps she cautiously approached that trailer her eyes adjusted to the near dark of its interior hanging from chains by his ankles at the trailer's center was John.

His forehead had a bloody gash. Oh, God, Milly stammered. John? She reached out, stopping short of touching him. John, who did this? She ventured a little further into the trailer. There was no sign of Sam. Turning around, Milly used the wall to guide her out. Her eyes scanned the loading dock. they could be lurking anywhere she had to get help on john's cluttered desk she noticed a phone earlier limping over Milly snatched up the receiver and quickly dialed with bloody hands we're sorry your call cannot be completed at this time a robotic voice informed her shit shit Milly slammed down the receiver she was growing just as frustrated as she was scared John's metal lighter lay on a stack of papers.

Fuck communism, engraved its front. She snatched it up and exited. Limping along, she leaned on a concrete wall. The block under her hand glowed lightly. Pulling her hand away, a strange symbol pulsated through the concrete. What the shit is that? The bloody handprint she'd left was absorbed into the block. Hurrying towards the double doors, Milly stopped. Someone walked past an aisle. A large someone. Or some... thing. Milly ducked down. She needed to get a better view of what was going on out there.

Not far from her was a sliding white metal door. She slowly unhooked the latch and pushed the door open and slipped into the dairy cooler. She spied into the store between gallon jugs of milk. her eyes caught another flash of movement. There definitely was somebody here. The intercom loudly crackled to life. Come out, come out, little goblin, a voice hissed. Trick or treat. An involuntary shudder of fear ran through her body.

They were looking for her. Sneaking out of the cooler, Milly made up her mind. She couldn't leave Sam and Brian. Milly had to fight them. Somehow. There was another set of double doors further down. She used them to slip into the store. Hiding behind a tank of lobsters, Milly looked up at the signs for each aisle. She was directly across from aisle two. Housewares and cleaning. Perfect. calling all assholes i'm right here Milly called from the intercom as she stood a broom handle ready rags tied to one end it wasn't very long before a man dressed in a black leather jacket emerged from aisle six a cheap halloween mask hid his identity well looky here little goblin girl he strode confidently towards Milly.

Stopping, he looked down as his boot-clad foot made a squishing noise. There was a puddle of floor wax in front of him. Sneaky, trying to make me slip. Milly took out John's lighter and held it to the rags on the mop handle. Where are my friends? She lit the end of the mop. With us, just like you'll be. wrong answer she lit the puddle of floor wax it exploded in a burst of flame surprising Milly as much as it did the man fuck he recoiled the tip of his foot on fire another similarly dressed man rushed down one of the checkout lanes at her as she ran for the door Milly hurled the flaming mop handle at him like a spear inches from the door Milly stopped dead in her tracks outside robed figures stood side by side their faces hidden by hoods one of the masked men grabbed her he wrapped his arms tightly around Milly she thrashed and kicked to no avail the man with the burnt boot walked up to them lights out little goblin bitch he pulled a black hood down over Milly's head, enveloping her in darkness.

Milly felt herself being dragged along. She struggled, but it was no use. After a few minutes, they roughly forced Milly to her knees. This Halloween wasn't doing her legs any favors. Someone yanked the hood from her head. As her eyes adjusted, Milly found she was flanked by Sam and Brian. Next to Brian were the men from the Firebird. The concrete floor was bitterly cold. They appeared to be in the store's large freezer.

A black sheet covered a mysterious shape underneath. Across the freezer stood seven robed figures. Behind Milly and the others, the two masked men stood. This is bullshit, one of the Firebird men barked, earning him a smack. Quiet, pup, the masked man hissed. The center figure stepped forward. We've had our little trick-or-treat tonight, and I do enjoy a good treat, he laughed, lowering his hood. The older man was vaguely familiar-looking, Milly thought, as he paced back and forth.

Tonight is a blessed night, he said, and you lucky few are here among us to bear witness. and serve a glorious purpose. He reached down and pulled the black sheet up in one motion. Underneath, lying on the floor, was a large, grayish body. It was unlike anything Milly had ever seen before. It was similar to one of those diagrams of a person without skin that hung up in science class, except this thing was way more muscular, and it had strange symbols cut into its chest, head, and limbs.

Each one had a strange stone at its center. Milly noticed with a shiver that its limbs and head weren't attached to the torso, but were laying next to it, in an approximation of a human body. This is our lord, he smiled proudly. Cool Nux, the Beast King. A corpse! The driver of the Firebird protested. You're fucking nuts! This earned him a punch to the jaw from one of the masked men, bloodying his lip.

Leave him alone, his friend pleaded. He's an idiot. Shut up, little bro. Stay out of it. Brother? Milly pondered. She looked at them. There was a resemblance. Enough, the old man ordered. No more delays. Then it suddenly came to Milly. this was Nathan Solomon founder and CEO of Bargain Groceries his portrait hung in the back of the store no shit she whispered to herself as she made the connection one of the robed figures stepped forward handing Solomon a large ornate dagger cool Nux betrayed by the druids and slain by the warrior Aeron his body was dismembered bound by druid magic and scattered, still living.

I've found him, built an empire for him, constructed this place of power to heal him. He'll make this world right again. Solomon made a sweeping gesture. Blood will run in the streets, and he'll feast on his enemy's bones, the king of a new order. But first the blood of the virgin must flow. Milly felt her heartbeat faster as Solomon raised up the dagger. Virgin? Oh shit. Bring forth the virgin. He pointed at the driver of the firebird.

Me? I ain't no virgin. I have a girlfriend in Canada. We've banged like a lot. Randy, no. His brother cried out. Two of the robed figures dragged Randy to where Solomon stood. Only blood will remove the runes binding our king. Solomon brought the blade across Randy's throat in one swift motion. No! Milly heard herself gasp as blood sprayed out of Randy's sliced throat. Solomon held Randy's limp body up as the blood flowed over the strange marks on the body before them.

One by one, the runes glowed. The severed limbs and head began to mend themselves to the torso. of the strange body. Bring me another, Solomon ordered. Our king is thirsty. One of the robed figures grabbed Brian. Leave him the fuck alone. A battered john stood in the freezer door, a metal chain wrapped around his fist. What, catch you cultist shitters at a bad time? The night manager let his fists fly as the robed figures advanced.

Solomon struggled with Brian. The king must have his blood! He slashed madly at Brian, cutting open one of the young man's hands. The blood splashed across the body of Colnux. The once lifeless gray body shuddered to life. It then sucked air into its ancient lungs. John decked one of the cult members. Sam, get everyone out of here! Sam and Milly grabbed Randy's brother, and the three went for Brian, who was doing his best to fend off Solomon's wild swings.

No! Solomon pleaded. I must finish! He's too weak! Milly set her jaw and unleashed a powerful strike to the old man, sending him flailing desperately before he hit the cold floor. The others grabbed Brian and rushed to the freezer door. Milly turned to see John trying to fend off the cultists. At the same time, the monstrous form of coal nooks began to rise. John! Sam shouted desperately. Go! he ordered. Randy's brother turned to Milly and Sam.

I'll stay. Get out of here. For what it's worth, I'm Troy and I'm sorry we fucked with you earlier. Milly nodded stoically. Milly and Sam dragged Brian out of the freezer. A hideous roar sounded from inside, followed by the frantic screams of the damned. That thing's gotta be stopped, Milly took a deep breath. Get help. What the hell are you gonna do? Sam asked. Milly watched a reluctant Sam help Brian through the double doors.

She scanned the room. Then, she saw it. The forklift. Colnooks banged on the freezer door as she made her way to the machine. Milly climbed up into the cab and studied the controls. Oh shit, she said, confused. There was a key hanging on a hook. Like a car, right? She turned the key and the forklift rumbled to life. Okay, she could do this. There was a loud crash as the freezer door surrendered to Colnooks' assault.

Milly scrambled to figure out the forklift controls. Most of the labels had long since worn off. I can do this, she repeated to herself. Milly caught a glance of the Beast King advancing. Time to die, bastard. She pulled a lever and the forklift jerked forward and stopped. What? Milly pulled another lever. She managed to raise the forks up, but no forward momentum. Milly yanked a second level. The forklift roared forward. The Beast King seemed slightly perplexed for a moment, but it passed even faster.

Milly tried ramming him with the forks, but Nux was quick and strong enough to grab them. The creature pushed back against the mechanical strength of the machine, causing the wheels to spin out. Milly swung the forklift around, dragging Nux, who still pushed back. Come on, you hunk of crap! Milly pushed the machine as far as it would go, slowly backing her bestial opponent. Colnux roared. Milly found herself screaming back at the monster.

The old forklift lurched forward one final time, but not without struggle. It was enough to knock the mighty beast king into the waiting maw of the nearby garbage compactor. Milly sprang from the lift and slammed down the metal gate, trapping Nux inside. The metal wouldn't hold long as the enraged monster hammered it with his large fists. Milly slammed her palm down on the large green button. The compactor squealed to life. Colnux fought back, trying to stave off the crushing grip.

But in the end, the strength of the large machine was too great. Nux's arms shattered under the strain as he was crushed, letting out one last pitiful, defiant roar. They found John and Troy dead in the freezer, along with the cultists. Milly took John's pack of cigarettes. The sound of sobbing came from behind a stack of egg cartons. Solomon, curled up in a ball, was devastated. Our king! Our king! The king is dead, Milly informed him.

She lit one of John's cigarettes and exhaled. The doors to the store unlocked as the rising sun filled the building with hazy orange light. Two girls from the day shift entered the store and caught a glimpse of the mess that was Milly. Oh my god, one stammered. Are you okay? First night, Milly answered, the spent butt of the cigarette dangling from her lips. now I'm talking to the overachievers in the audience.

Now, now, no shame. Showing up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to your job, ready to do good for all your customers and build yourself up and maybe move up the corporate ladder, that's not entirely immoral or something you shouldn't be proud of. But just how willing are you to do whatever it takes to get where you want to go? What if it was beyond getting there early, bringing coffee and donuts, going on a fishing trip, or hanging out at a bar with your boss?

What if you had to go to deadly places to have yourself a big success? We're going to find out after these quick words from our sponsor. The Fall of Man by David O'Hanlon. I slid down the door and let my head fall against the pressed wood with a thump. it was a disappointing sound and i banged my head against it again for the same dissatisfying result it was supposed to sound like i felt i didn't know exactly what that sound was but it wasn't a muffled thud everything was falling apart and i couldn't even bang my head against the door correctly emotions cascaded from head to heart in ways i could actually feel and it made my skin prickle until I started shaking.

Bile hit the back of my throat, but I was too distraught to move. I was not a weak man, at least not as far as I was concerned. I didn't feel things. Feelings come with a vagina to keep them in, my father always told me. Dad was sure to punctuate those life lessons with punches. The knuckles made grooves for the messages to really sink in. Maybe that wasn't the best way to raise a child, or maybe it was.

It had worked out well to a point. I had been a stock boy at Brown's General Market for less than three months before making it to assistant manager. In two years, the owners promoted me to store manager when the old one died in some bizarre fishing accident. Kohler, Arkansas had a very high rate of accidents. the browns were good people and i loved them as best i knew how they doted on me like their own son or like they would have if the whelp had ever accomplished anything it was tragic for the browns when the boy died in a fire but it worked out well in the end i hadn't been at browns a full six years and their store was more than competing with established franchises like piggly wiggly and Kroger.

Once they died the following year of age-related conditions, the Browns passed the store over to me. It all worked out perfectly. I loved the store, truly. It was the only thing I loved, if we're being honest. My romantic life consisted of a platinum membership at the Empornium. I was a three-time customer of the month, as the owner pointed out that morning, when I returned my rented smut. It worked out better for me, and everyone else, if I stuck to the curtained room reserved for the more extreme tastes.

And my tastes have always been very extreme. I never related to people well enough to date them anyway. There had been a few attempts over the years. The most recent was two years prior with one of my stalkers, a curvy country girl named autumn aside from her bubbly personality and constant need for attention sleeping with an employee was a boring cliche i ended it after 27 days and patted myself on the back because it was two days longer than my last relationship i was practically a social butterfly flap flap most people that claim to dislike other people at least have pets i don't really understand that either it's not that i hate animals in fact i leave out scraps for one of the strays at my apartment on tuesdays i toss some of the stale bread to the ducks that congregated in the little retention pond behind the store i just don't get it why keep a pet we don't have anything in common and time away from the store could be spent bettering myself playing with an animal didn't have any intrinsic value i tried a betta fish once but flushed it down the toilet after only a week i guess i'm just not capable of that much commitment a tear splashed on the back of my hand and all i could do was stare at it curiously the crystalline drop seemed to shimmer in the blue lights dancing through the blinds i probed my eyes and felt their dampness before the dam broke and three decades of emotions poured down the spillways of my cheeks.

The fists battering the front door made my heart pound. That's the sound I was trying to make. It was the sound of fury and loss and everything else I was feeling. The banging intensified and I rocked my head against the bedroom door in rhythm. i found my voice and cried until it became laughter i could practically feel the browns patting me on the back as i noted a four percent increase over the past quarter it was 20 till one and i was ready to call it a night i emailed the numbers to my accountant and then read the message from my attorney for the sixth time.

The local Piggly Wiggly, still six miles away, was going under, thanks entirely to my efforts. We'd negotiated the sale of their building and store fixtures at thirty grand less than expected. The contracts would be ready by noon. I laced my fingers behind my head and smiled at the ceiling. Expanding the Browns general market brand was the next step. Stores in Fort Smith, Springdale, Huntsville, and Alma were already lined up over the next two years.

I had photoshopped pictures of each store done up with the new Browns logo hanging on a wall around a motivational cat poster. I'd just turned 37. By 47, I'd have sold the franchise to Walmart and retired to Ecuador. Like the cat on the wall said, good things come to those who act meow. A crash on the sales floor made me jump and I rushed to the two-way mirror. The last of the stockers went home at midnight.

No one ever wanted overtime, especially when I worked the night shift. I glanced at the safe and scrunched my nose. Mr. Brown insisted on keeping a revolver inside it, just in case. Shooting myself by mistake or worse, putting a hole in the store would be ridiculous if it was just a collapsed shelf. Some of the fixtures were purchased in the 90s and the new shelves didn't clip in as well as they should.

From time to time, one would slip out i opted for a pair of scissors as my personal protection just in case however aisle seven condiments salad dressing pickles peppers and salsa the smell of pickle juice hit my nose from 10 feet away i'd never liked pickles they were demonic appendages severed from the cruel hands of catonic terrors that scared the shit out of me as a child. Don't judge me. Unlike the monster under your bed, pickles are real at least.

Shards of glass spread like shrapnel across the floor. I hated that floor, but didn't want to have to close the place to replace it. The deep russet tiles had faded to something closer to Tawny, while the white tiles were now darker, stained over the years to a champagne-like yellow. Brown and yellow, like used underwear. The red was a new touch. So was the dead body. I gawked stupidly at the corpse sprawled between spilled pickles and broken glass.

The head was missing, but the victim was wearing a browns vest atop bejeweled jeans the curves of the diminutive figure were unmistakably female and familiar i tried to picture the body bent over my desk i said sleeping with employees was cliche not that i didn't still do it bianca i stepped closer and inspected the area her head wasn't missing after all it was sitting right there between two jars of Vlasic Spears Clean up on aisle 7 A distorted voice said over the PA system Just a simple murder No big deal There were four phones on the sales floor One in the meat department One in my office Seven at the registers And another at the service desk And they could all dial into the PA The killer could have been anywhere I went back to Main Street the path between the registers and the grocery aisles and looked for any sign of the intruder the coast was clear so i bolted for the front doors i hit the crash bar and bounced off i tried again twisting the lock back and forth but the doors refused to budge you haven't paid the voice said you can't leave without paying i wasn't scared hatred anger those are functional emotions dad was okay with me feeling them fear that was a weakness almost as pathetic as love my father taught me that you were only worth as much as you do you can't do anything if you're dead survival was the name of the game and you win by putting your functional emotions to use i pushed the door again and heard the chains rattling on the other side the person knew my routines they had planned it out hatred anger yeah i was feeling those i was feeling the fuck out of those please return to your shopping the voice growled have you considered a seafood option to pair with your pickles the bastard was trying to suggestive sell me in my own store i adjusted my grip on the scissors and ran to the service desk.

No one was there. I went to the paper goods aisle next and checked that phone. It was still on the hook. Good customer service is reserved for good customers, my stalker told me. Follow directions, Terrence. I stalked along the aisle, hunkered down and keeping my body close to the shelves. I stopped short of a back road, what we called the lane that ran parallel to Main Street and separated the aisles from the meat, seafood, and dairy departments.

I took a deep breath and sprang from the aisle with the scissors raised over my head. No one was there. I walked past the last dairy bunker where we kept the ricotta, cottage cheese, and all that. I sprinted past the stockroom doors, but no one lunged out for me. I was almost to the meat department entrance when I paused at the seafood counter. The team emptied the case before going home every night and sprayed it out to keep the smell down.

But there it was. A whole red snapper lying on a sheet of ice, staring at me with a single, dead eye. A brown's name tag was pinned to its body with the fillet knife. I swallowed hard. The tag had a gold border denoting a member of the management team, and the name Barry emblazoned across it. Barry Glover was the store manager that died in that fishing accident. He slipped and stuck himself in the chest with a fillet blade, severing his aorta.

The coroner spent three days examining every tiny detail to prove it really was a bizarre accident. I spent six months practicing with dummies and pork shoulders to make sure I could get those tiny details right. And I had. No one knew anything. So how could this person? See anything you like? They asked from the overhead speakers. If our seafood isn't to die for, maybe try our fresh-cut meats. That sealed it. they were dialing in from the prep room and wanted me to come running into their ambush it wouldn't work they were trying to play my game but i've been playing on pro courts for years i was 30 when i started at brown's looking for a new career the old one wasn't panning out i started in the mail room there i worked my way up to a sales lead position then people started looking at me funny around the office that town had a problem with accidents too and relocation seemed prudent terrence horowitz wasn't using his identity anymore not after i buried him in that crawl space they say people like me have rituals mine is the planning no one could know about barry just like they couldn't know about the real terrence or the others whoever this was i got them like that snapper and come away looking like a hero i went into the prep room and found it dark and deserted a 12 inch butcher's scimitar sat on the polypropylene surface of the cutting table i trade my scissors for it and opened the cooler expecting to meet my tormentor in a violent final clash the motion activated light switch engaged and revealed excessive amounts of meat for the upcoming independence day sales still no vindictive maniac minus myself i guess you twos i still haven't found what i'm looking for started playing.

Hardy fucking har har. I stormed back onto the sales floor. The CD player was kept at customer service. I ran down aisle 10, breads and snack cakes, and slid onto Main Street. I hopped the service counter and went around the partition to the employee area. The monofilament line snapped as I rounded the corner. The thin plastic strand melts and becomes indistinguishable from carpet fibers in a house fire. Just ask Doug Brown.

I used the same trip wire in his kitchen to cause the electrical fire that night. The wall burst with a spray of sparks. Wires crackled and popped as their exposed copper cores bumped into one another. The overhead lights shattered and covered me in glass. The music shut off and the wall ignited beside me. It was just like I'd done. If they knew that, then they knew. Oh shit. I leapt away from the flames and stumbled backwards out of the service area.

I needed to get to my apartment. Attention shoppers. The store is now closing. Please make your way to the front of the store. The voice said. I turned and there was the intruder dressed in a black ski mask and billowing parka that hid any clues of their real identity they raised the voice changer to their lips this concludes our business day they said and threw the device to the side i charged with a furious roar leaping onto the conveyor of the nearest checkout lane and jumping to the next then the next the third the intruder waved for me to come on and i did with the butcher knife cocked back and ready to split their fucking head in two i got the fifth lane and it turns out i wasn't the only one that liked planning things the vegetable oil was nearly invisible on that black rubber belt my shoe slipped across it and i came down hard enough to bend the aluminum frame of the checkout i laid on the floor watching the black hiking boots with the extra thick soles clopping toward the front door.

You shouldn't play with a girl's heart, the intruder said with the delicate twang of a true southern belle. Especially not one that likes true crime shows. I know what you've done. All the way back to Maryland. I got lots more ideas for our next date night, Terry. She was gone before I could get back to my feet. I ran to my car and drove straight to the apartment. I'd drop the knife back at the store.

I had no doubt it was the one used to kill Bianca. They'd write me off as a jealous pig boss that murdered an employee for not putting out, and then torched the scene in a panic. I'd never panic after a kill, and I'd never burn the store. I loved that store. Autumn had taken it from me. Taken it using the same methods I'd employed to get it. God damn it! I beat my fist on the steering wheel.

Autumn. The season of dying. What an appropriate name. How much else did she really know? I jumped the sidewalk and left my car running in the lawn. I knew what was waiting inside. I ran straight to the bedroom and found them there. I shut the door behind me and slid down the cheap wood finish. Mr. and Mrs. Brown were lying on top of the bed spread stark naked just as they'd been before i put them back in the freezer for safe keeping i told you i loved them in the only way i knew how i heard the sirens coming down the street even if anyone believed me would it matter i banged my head against the door it was a disappointing sound the cops broke in and i stood slowly preparing to turn myself in there was no point in resisting i'd lost the love of my life what was left to fight for i stepped out of the bedroom still laughing at the insanity of it all and laid down on the floor the cuffs went on tight they'd probably been coming to tell me about the fire when they got the call about bianca as they escorted me to a police car i stepped on a discarded ski mask A strange sight in July, but the officers didn't seem to notice.

I smiled and looked around the gathered crowd. There she was. My season of dying.