I caught my breath, for a few minutes, and stood up. The cooler was still bubbling, sloshing around. Something fucked up was happening.
I looked outside to make sure it wasn't outside. She was nowhere to be seen. Those bloody footprints were still there...it brought a shiver to my spine.
I took a deep breath once more and walked outside. Where to now? I decided to head back to the front office. That was the last place I had seen anyone alive...
I made my way down endless halls, passing dark windows and doors, except this time I was not going to take any detours. Fuck that. I almost sprinted down the last hallway, to 1H, where the entrance was.
I slammed open the door and to my dismay... everything was fucked.
The greeter was nowhere to be found, except a pile of guts and intestines sloshed around on the chair. Everything was covered in blood, and I mean everything. The smell.. and the room was so humid. Not because of the weather but...the blood was still warm. I swear I could hear something sinister, molesting my ears with laughter and the sighs that only a sinister creature such as her could make....
I had to get out. I ran towards the doorway, and put my entire bodyweight into my shoulder-
and the door did not even budge. It was if a truck was parked in front of the door. I was really fucked now.
I took a step back, and tried once again. Failure. Shit. I began to sweat and electricity ran through my veins. I took a peep through the blinds and nothing was visible. Outside, complete darkness surrounded the building. There was nothing, the world was empty. It was quiet, so quiet that my heartbeat thumping caught me offguard. I turned around to formulate my next move, and every hair stood up on my neck.
She was there again. Sitting on the office chair behind the desk, smiling. She had a mouth this time, full, thick, red lips. Her dark skin matched the scenery outside. My entire body was drenched in sweat, and I could not move. She began cackling, louder and louder, until my eardrums were about to burst. I tried to move, breathe, do anything, and I just stood there. I could feel her probing inside my brain, inside everything about me. My stomach churned, oh the pain. I could feel her fingernails digging inside my stomach, picking at my guts. I could feel her wrap her hands around my crotch, I could feel her stick her tongue inside my ear and wrap it around my brain. The pain. The pain...
For a split second I took control. I reached for my knife under my pant leg, but I felt something sticky and my stomach fell out. My skin was gone, peeled off like an orange skin. My fingers were digging inside open flesh...the pain... I could see gold sparks flying around, and felt faint.
And then she was gone. The room was cold now, and empty. Nothing showed of her appearance, except the guts spilled across the floor. I looked outside again, and was saddened to see I was still in some kind of limbo. The darkness laughed at me, and there was nothing I could do.
Monday, August 11, 2014
It was another shit day in this shitty weather.
I fucking hate hot weather. My uniform was sticking to the seat again. I should move up north... I thought to myself once again. I stepped outside my 2009 Toyota and walk towards the bland, grey building that looms in the distance. It looks as if it could withstand nuclear war, sitting there eternally.
I begin the long walk in the heat, one foot in front of the other, in my sticky clothes. The humidity is so high I can barely breathe. It's like swimming in an ocean of air, and every breath you take, nature whispers fuck you in your ear.
I am the head of security for this building, and the corporation that owns it. They perform tests and other things I am paid to not care about. I walk towards the building more.
I really should move north, but the money is so good at this job that I can buy all the booze I want, and live in a pretty decent condo. Mexico isn't the best country, far from it, but the locals knew how to party, and the women were...sleek. Not like where I came from, where everyone has an agenda and a shitty attitude. Nope. The Mexican people were just that-people. Americans were overrated anyway. All they cared about was money and saving for their nonexistent college and nonexistent social security funds.. I had dropped out of college the minute this job was offered to me.
Mexico was a nation of tradition and family, and where I came from, this was a lot more fun that anything I had ever known. I had moved in with a nice family that farmed wheats and whatever else they could get. I helped out on weekends, and they let me stay. Don't let the white people in America fool you, the Mexican food there is a sham compared to a homemade meal where I lived. It was orgasmic. I loved food, and they provided the best. I couldn't ask for much more, except maybe a partner in life. But I gave up on that a long time ago.
One foot in front of the other, I always said to myself. When I was in high school, and we ran the mile (which I sucked at) I always counted my steps, 1,2,3,4. 1,2,3,4. And never looked back. I did this today, but at my own pace, without some asshole yelling at me to hurry up.
--------------------------------------------------------
After about 45 minutes I reach the door. The parking lot is so expansive, I forgot where I parked, a few miles down. I walk in, and the air conditioning is my salvation.
Louis sits at the check-in, reading a newspaper. I greet him and walk to the locker room.
I am alone, thank goodness. I slide my clothes off and shove them in a ball inside a locker. My uniform hasn't been washed in a couple days, and it's beginning to show. Well, smell.
I spray some Febreeze on it and gear up. I carry a 9mm pistol, some pepper spray, cuffs, and I also carry a 7 inch knife strapped to my lower leg. No one will fuck with me again.
My head hurts so much now that I can't even stand up. I fall down, on the wooden bench, and vomit. All that great food wasted...and some really cheap booze mixed in. At least now I can get to work. I take some herbs that my new family gave me and go on with my day.
Outside of the labs are hallways that go on endlessly. Literally, endlessly. It was designed to confuse anyone who might break in. I scratch my unkempt facial hair for more than a few seconds. SKIFF SKIFF. Something doesn't feel right. Juan meets me at this intersection everyday at precisely 8:30 on the dot. Today he doesn't show up. I begin walking down the bland, white hallway. It's so bright that I can barely keep myself from throwing up again. I drank way too much last night.
I cross a few more intersections and a few corners, and come across a pool of blood, and just a head lying there. I vomit again.
There is blood and flies and alcohol and old food in the air. It stinks, but the sight is even worse. Juan was definitely dead, someone had left me a message. No one had said anything to me, the radios weren't going off, and I felt like I was here alone. I call on the radio.
"Control Center, this is Badge 75, I have a man down and...is anyone there?"
I receive silence as an answer...this is not good.
I walk down the hallway, this time with some hustle. I wipe the crust from my lip and start jogging. I pass some corners and doors and make my way towards the western branch of the building. I arrive, the windows are dark and no one here. The keycard swipes are turned off, and the doors are locked. There's no use kicking them open-I can't. The windows are also bulletproof, but that's the least of my problems.
Suddenly, a thump against the window scares the shit out of me and I jump. One hand on my gun, I walk towards it. A bloody streak has been swiped across the window for about two feet, in a smaller hand. The room is so dark I can't see shit inside.
Now I'm kind of creeped out. Since I was scared, I'm going to be jumpy for a while anyway, so I run around a few more hallways and try to find the break room. It's open, but dark inside. I edge my head in, and try to get a look. It's too dark. I slide my hands around the wall, hoping to find a lightswitch. I graze across something and a sharp pain shoots up my arm. Some fucker put a razorblade on the light switch...what the hell is going on? I flip the switch again and suck on my finger. The blood tastes like metal, iron, rich. I peep my head inside again.
Absolutely nothing. No one there, no sign of anyone. I walk inside and the lights flicker. How fucking cute. They come back on and the water cooler is full of blood, dripping out the faucet in a heavy pool. It's so fucking thick. It smells strong, and its still warm. Just standing next to the blue tub is warm. I walk back outside, and the faint sounds of what could be footsteps whistle in my ear.
Then something cuts the corner, and just stares at me. My heart drops, I freeze like a goddamn statue.
A woman stares at me down the hallway, about 40 yards away. She is pitch black. Her orange eyes glisten as she tilts what you could call a head, like a curious dog. She is completely nude. Her breasts are full and natural. Behind her, footsteps of blood trail, beyond what I can see. Her skin is completely black, darker than a city with no power, darker than creation, darker than a womb. She has no mouth, but her orange eyes could peel off my skin. I am so afraid I can do nothing but stare like the homosapien that I am and stand in complete and utter fear. It looks at me, and continues walking. I take a second to realize what the fuck just happened, and duck back inside the break room. I lock the door, and take a fucking breather. Something bad, and I don't mean bad like an accident, I'm fucking talking like Chernobyl bad. Fucking Anti-human shit. I could feel it when she stared at me. Something beyond human. Post human even... Something I couldn't even comprehend. I realized at that moment I was doomed, and my guns and wit were useless. It could probably read my mind or some shit, I could feel it picking around inside my mind, trying to find something. I just sat there in awe....
End of Part 1
I fucking hate hot weather. My uniform was sticking to the seat again. I should move up north... I thought to myself once again. I stepped outside my 2009 Toyota and walk towards the bland, grey building that looms in the distance. It looks as if it could withstand nuclear war, sitting there eternally.
I begin the long walk in the heat, one foot in front of the other, in my sticky clothes. The humidity is so high I can barely breathe. It's like swimming in an ocean of air, and every breath you take, nature whispers fuck you in your ear.
I am the head of security for this building, and the corporation that owns it. They perform tests and other things I am paid to not care about. I walk towards the building more.
I really should move north, but the money is so good at this job that I can buy all the booze I want, and live in a pretty decent condo. Mexico isn't the best country, far from it, but the locals knew how to party, and the women were...sleek. Not like where I came from, where everyone has an agenda and a shitty attitude. Nope. The Mexican people were just that-people. Americans were overrated anyway. All they cared about was money and saving for their nonexistent college and nonexistent social security funds.. I had dropped out of college the minute this job was offered to me.
Mexico was a nation of tradition and family, and where I came from, this was a lot more fun that anything I had ever known. I had moved in with a nice family that farmed wheats and whatever else they could get. I helped out on weekends, and they let me stay. Don't let the white people in America fool you, the Mexican food there is a sham compared to a homemade meal where I lived. It was orgasmic. I loved food, and they provided the best. I couldn't ask for much more, except maybe a partner in life. But I gave up on that a long time ago.
One foot in front of the other, I always said to myself. When I was in high school, and we ran the mile (which I sucked at) I always counted my steps, 1,2,3,4. 1,2,3,4. And never looked back. I did this today, but at my own pace, without some asshole yelling at me to hurry up.
--------------------------------------------------------
After about 45 minutes I reach the door. The parking lot is so expansive, I forgot where I parked, a few miles down. I walk in, and the air conditioning is my salvation.
Louis sits at the check-in, reading a newspaper. I greet him and walk to the locker room.
I am alone, thank goodness. I slide my clothes off and shove them in a ball inside a locker. My uniform hasn't been washed in a couple days, and it's beginning to show. Well, smell.
I spray some Febreeze on it and gear up. I carry a 9mm pistol, some pepper spray, cuffs, and I also carry a 7 inch knife strapped to my lower leg. No one will fuck with me again.
My head hurts so much now that I can't even stand up. I fall down, on the wooden bench, and vomit. All that great food wasted...and some really cheap booze mixed in. At least now I can get to work. I take some herbs that my new family gave me and go on with my day.
Outside of the labs are hallways that go on endlessly. Literally, endlessly. It was designed to confuse anyone who might break in. I scratch my unkempt facial hair for more than a few seconds. SKIFF SKIFF. Something doesn't feel right. Juan meets me at this intersection everyday at precisely 8:30 on the dot. Today he doesn't show up. I begin walking down the bland, white hallway. It's so bright that I can barely keep myself from throwing up again. I drank way too much last night.
I cross a few more intersections and a few corners, and come across a pool of blood, and just a head lying there. I vomit again.
There is blood and flies and alcohol and old food in the air. It stinks, but the sight is even worse. Juan was definitely dead, someone had left me a message. No one had said anything to me, the radios weren't going off, and I felt like I was here alone. I call on the radio.
"Control Center, this is Badge 75, I have a man down and...is anyone there?"
I receive silence as an answer...this is not good.
I walk down the hallway, this time with some hustle. I wipe the crust from my lip and start jogging. I pass some corners and doors and make my way towards the western branch of the building. I arrive, the windows are dark and no one here. The keycard swipes are turned off, and the doors are locked. There's no use kicking them open-I can't. The windows are also bulletproof, but that's the least of my problems.
Suddenly, a thump against the window scares the shit out of me and I jump. One hand on my gun, I walk towards it. A bloody streak has been swiped across the window for about two feet, in a smaller hand. The room is so dark I can't see shit inside.
Now I'm kind of creeped out. Since I was scared, I'm going to be jumpy for a while anyway, so I run around a few more hallways and try to find the break room. It's open, but dark inside. I edge my head in, and try to get a look. It's too dark. I slide my hands around the wall, hoping to find a lightswitch. I graze across something and a sharp pain shoots up my arm. Some fucker put a razorblade on the light switch...what the hell is going on? I flip the switch again and suck on my finger. The blood tastes like metal, iron, rich. I peep my head inside again.
Absolutely nothing. No one there, no sign of anyone. I walk inside and the lights flicker. How fucking cute. They come back on and the water cooler is full of blood, dripping out the faucet in a heavy pool. It's so fucking thick. It smells strong, and its still warm. Just standing next to the blue tub is warm. I walk back outside, and the faint sounds of what could be footsteps whistle in my ear.
Then something cuts the corner, and just stares at me. My heart drops, I freeze like a goddamn statue.
A woman stares at me down the hallway, about 40 yards away. She is pitch black. Her orange eyes glisten as she tilts what you could call a head, like a curious dog. She is completely nude. Her breasts are full and natural. Behind her, footsteps of blood trail, beyond what I can see. Her skin is completely black, darker than a city with no power, darker than creation, darker than a womb. She has no mouth, but her orange eyes could peel off my skin. I am so afraid I can do nothing but stare like the homosapien that I am and stand in complete and utter fear. It looks at me, and continues walking. I take a second to realize what the fuck just happened, and duck back inside the break room. I lock the door, and take a fucking breather. Something bad, and I don't mean bad like an accident, I'm fucking talking like Chernobyl bad. Fucking Anti-human shit. I could feel it when she stared at me. Something beyond human. Post human even... Something I couldn't even comprehend. I realized at that moment I was doomed, and my guns and wit were useless. It could probably read my mind or some shit, I could feel it picking around inside my mind, trying to find something. I just sat there in awe....
End of Part 1
August 11, 2014 Update
For some reason, I'm back. They called this "flow," well fuck whatever you call it, I'm going insane. Ever since I graduated, I somehow became even more of a loser than then.
I haven't hung out with anyone since my best friend screwed me over. You see, I work at Office Depot. My friend, Tim, moved here from Pennsylvania in 2012. He worked there for like 6 months, we got along. Two metalheads, some even said we looked like brothers. He had a falling out with his girlfriend, so I let him stay at my place for a few days until he could catch a bus back to PA. We played GTA 5, watched Trailer Park Boys, had a beer. This guy was my bro. He moved, I thought, forever.
That day was windy, I think in November. I can remember just standing outside, my hair still wet from the shower, standing outside at my dad's place in Winston. That day was like a funeral. I drove him home, he got his bags, and left.
About a year later I got a facebook message from him. He was coming back! The joy.
So he came back, I got him his job back at the Depot, despite him leaving so erratically and showing up to work drunk once. We continued our friendship.
One night, my manager called me over. My register was like 200 something dollars short (cash obviously). I kind of shit my pants, not because I stole it (Ya dingus) but I knew this-Either Tim or Haley stole it. Haley was pretty much the other Carson of the Depot-still is. She'll probably take my place one day. But anyway. I was conflicted. But my manager trusted me and we went on with our schedules.
About 5 months later I showed up to work. Everyone had this look on their face.
I walk over to Josh, and he asks me if I've heard about Tim. "No." I tell him. Tim was the one friend I've had in a long time that I actually helped him pay rent, with my minimum wage salary, I bought him food, anything I could do to help.
"Well it was Tim. That night, a few months ago, when the register was short. He signed in, stole it, and he also confessed to stealing some other things that had gone missing."
I kind of stood there shocked for a second. "I just figured I'd tell you before anyone else said anything."
I went about my business at the Depot that day, somehow. Some fucking how. I've had a lot of shit shoveled at me, but that day was the worst in history.
Tim never called, texted, messaged, acknowledged me.
A few months later, (We arrive in early 2014) I am a grizzled Depot veteran. A familiar face walks through the door, smiles and fucking waves at me. He heads to Aisle 4, cleaning supplies. He walks out a minute later.
This happens for maybe two weeks. Finally, my General Manager talks to me. "Tim's been stealing hand sanitizer."
My best friend, who I almost lost my job because, was now resorting to hand sanitizer stealing, probably to make hooch or something of that nature. This time, however, I felt no guilt or anything. The next time he came in, he was promptly asked to leave, in front of his girlfriend, who he had been telling he was getting "headphones from Carson."
So that's one of many stories that have happened since graduation. Maybe I'll tell you more, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll write some more short stories. Who knows...
I haven't hung out with anyone since my best friend screwed me over. You see, I work at Office Depot. My friend, Tim, moved here from Pennsylvania in 2012. He worked there for like 6 months, we got along. Two metalheads, some even said we looked like brothers. He had a falling out with his girlfriend, so I let him stay at my place for a few days until he could catch a bus back to PA. We played GTA 5, watched Trailer Park Boys, had a beer. This guy was my bro. He moved, I thought, forever.
That day was windy, I think in November. I can remember just standing outside, my hair still wet from the shower, standing outside at my dad's place in Winston. That day was like a funeral. I drove him home, he got his bags, and left.
About a year later I got a facebook message from him. He was coming back! The joy.
So he came back, I got him his job back at the Depot, despite him leaving so erratically and showing up to work drunk once. We continued our friendship.
One night, my manager called me over. My register was like 200 something dollars short (cash obviously). I kind of shit my pants, not because I stole it (Ya dingus) but I knew this-Either Tim or Haley stole it. Haley was pretty much the other Carson of the Depot-still is. She'll probably take my place one day. But anyway. I was conflicted. But my manager trusted me and we went on with our schedules.
About 5 months later I showed up to work. Everyone had this look on their face.
I walk over to Josh, and he asks me if I've heard about Tim. "No." I tell him. Tim was the one friend I've had in a long time that I actually helped him pay rent, with my minimum wage salary, I bought him food, anything I could do to help.
"Well it was Tim. That night, a few months ago, when the register was short. He signed in, stole it, and he also confessed to stealing some other things that had gone missing."
I kind of stood there shocked for a second. "I just figured I'd tell you before anyone else said anything."
I went about my business at the Depot that day, somehow. Some fucking how. I've had a lot of shit shoveled at me, but that day was the worst in history.
Tim never called, texted, messaged, acknowledged me.
A few months later, (We arrive in early 2014) I am a grizzled Depot veteran. A familiar face walks through the door, smiles and fucking waves at me. He heads to Aisle 4, cleaning supplies. He walks out a minute later.
This happens for maybe two weeks. Finally, my General Manager talks to me. "Tim's been stealing hand sanitizer."
My best friend, who I almost lost my job because, was now resorting to hand sanitizer stealing, probably to make hooch or something of that nature. This time, however, I felt no guilt or anything. The next time he came in, he was promptly asked to leave, in front of his girlfriend, who he had been telling he was getting "headphones from Carson."
So that's one of many stories that have happened since graduation. Maybe I'll tell you more, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll write some more short stories. Who knows...
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