u/savanahgleckler

My job is pretty simple. Clock in at 8:00pm, walk around the chainlink fence surrounding the mine shaft every 30-45min, and watch the security cameras.

The mine has been abandoned since the 80s. Elevator shaft down sealed off, and a fence erected around the whole thing. Corporate’s official story was that the mine had run dry and was no longer profitable. Any local family would tell you the real story was that too many miners had gone missing, their bodies never found; and no one wanted to go back down the mine, no matter how much they raised the pay.

I didn’t know why they needed such tight security for an abandoned mine. But I wasn’t about to question it, the pay was amazing.

I had been at this job a month and already had my routines down. Start a pot of coffee as soon as I get there, and check in with the day shift security guard. There was usually nothing to report. A couple of kids tried to sneak in to the mine to get drunk, a tweaker came by looking for copper wire, the normal stuff expected in a place like this.

I had just finished with the coffee when the day shift security guard, Mack, approached me.

“It’s been pretty quiet around here. But something did happen that I can’t really explain.”

He took me outside the office and showed me a spot in the chain link fence that has been ripped open. “I couldn’t tell you how this happened, I didn’t see anybody on the monitors, and didn’t hear anything either.”

As I got closer to the fence I noticed that the edges of the hole that was now there were ragged and curved outwards at all different angles, some kind of viscous black substance coated the entire affected area. The smell was enough to dissuade me from inspecting any further.

“It doesn’t seem like kids with bolt cutters, they usually just jump the fence anyway.”

We walked back to the office and started to watch the security footage from around that time. But just as we got to the correct time stamp the file was gone. The error message read “file manually deleted”.

Mack had no answer other than he hadn’t even thought to check the security cameras before I got here. As he was leaving for the day he asked me if I could write up the incident report. Just as he was about to go both of our attention turned towards the mine shaft. The groan of old steel cables echoed throughout the quarry. The elevator was moving.

When it finally reached the entrance to the tunnel, we hurried over to the security cameras. There was one installed right above the shaft entrance. There was nothing there. The elevator didn’t go back down.

“Old girl must’ve finally died, that same thing happened earlier too. Probably some weird electrical surge. You mind writing up the report for all this?”

Uneasy as I was I didn’t mind, it gave me something to do to pass the time. I watched him pull away, the dust from his tires fading into the night. The sun had set, and I started settling down for the long haul.

Just as I finished firing off the email to corporate world, my alarm went off. Time for my first round of the night. It was about 9:30 when I stepped out of the office. One thing I enjoyed about this job was the remoteness, no light pollution, you could see every star in the sky.

It took me at least five minutes of walking before I realized how unnaturally dark it was. My flashlight was little help tonight, what light it did put out was swallowed up by the vast expanse of darkness after more than five feet.

I realized there were no stars in the sky that night, no moon. And the more I kept walking the more uneasy I started to feel. I’d usually hear a coyote or two, an owl. Nothing.

I convinced myself that it was just overcast and pushed on. The fence surrounding the mine shaft went on for 1.5 mile. Walking at my usual pace it would take me about 20-25 minutes.

I made It back in 15. As I sat down the computer dinged. I’d actually received a response from corporate.

“REPAIR FENCE IMMEDIATELY. IF SOMETHING APPROACHES YOU DO NOT ACKNOWLEDGE IT.”

I was not about to go out there again. The morning crew could handle it. Settled into my chair and halfway through my first pot of coffee I started to notice a stench seeping into the office. It was pungent, and oddly sweet, and as the minutes passed it grew stronger.

I couldn’t stand the smell anymore and needing fresh air I finally decided to go outside and repair the fence. The only sound as I started walking was the sound of my own footsteps and the tools shifting around in the tool box.

I was in a hurry and grabbed way too much and ended up dropping the flashlight. It flickered off as the batteries fell out and everything scattered in a different direction. I stopped walking abruptly and was about to bend down when I heard soft foot falls behind me that stopped just a second after I did.

I stiffened. Something in me told me not to turn around. I turned on my head lamp and picked back up my tool box and kept walking towards the fence, leaving the flashlight behind. Every step I took was matched by another pair of steps behind me, always a second or two after.

Finally arriving at the fence I immediately set to work. I found even more of the viscous substance, it coated not only the fence but the ground around it. It was exactly the same odor that had come into the office. Slipping my gloves on and the strongest pair of pliers I had, I began folding the broken chain links inward.

I had almost forgotten about the footsteps when I heard something shift behind me. The smell grew stronger. And the air felt wet and heavy. I trembled as I kept working. Keenly aware that whatever was behind me had no intention of leaving.

I could feel it stoop down, and kneel behind me. Mimicking the position I was in. Hot, shallow breath hit the back of my neck and made my hair stand on edge. My grip tightened on the pliers I was holding, I needed to move faster.

The breathing behind me eventually fell into almost perfect sync with mine, always a second or two behind.

I finished the last repair and stood up slowly. It stood up too. I kept my head down and started walking back to the security office. It followed.

Every step I took was echoed back to me. I started picking up the pace, and so did it. And suddenly the steps were in perfect sync with mine. No more delay.

I had the security office in sight when the footsteps disappeared, and something l appeared in front of me. It caught me so off guard I didn’t have time to look away.

I found myself staring at….me. Or someone’s impression of me if you were trying to describe me to somebody.

It had the same scar on my eyebrow from when I fell off of my bike when I was six. The same gap in my front tooth, but everything was slightly off. Eyes were crooked, nose sitting too low, the skin was pulled too tight, and sallow in color.

I had no choice to acknowledge it, and it knew. It raised a hand, slowly like it took effort, the skin hanging from the bones and pointed an unnaturally long finger at me.

“Switch.”

I dropped everything I had and started running. I knew it was close behind me. It hadn’t learned to mimic my run, and I could hear its awkward gait struggling to keep up.

Slamming and locking the door I sunk to my knees. I could hear it just outside the door. It’s shallow breathing momentarily out of sync with mine.

I checked the security cameras live feed. A figure cloaked in darkness was climbing through the hole in the fence. I couldn’t make out much from the security feed, all I could occasionally see was a thin pale arm, and the shine of their eyes. From behind the fence the figure stood up and looked right at the security camera.

They stood there watching for a full minute before vanishing into the darkness. My eyes were fixed on the security cameras when this time my phone lit up.

It was my boss.

“DO NOT GO OUTSIDE AGAIN. SHUT ALL THE BLINDS AND DO NOT WATCH THE SECURITY FEED ANYMORE. ITS WATCHING YOU BACK.”

I’ve never moved faster. Shutting the blinds was the easy part, turning off the security feed without looking was going to be a challenge.

I kept my eyes on the floor as I walked over to the desktop. Reaching for the mouse I began slowly trying to power it down, using only my peripherals to guide me.

I thought I had it when the screen lit up with the one of the security feeds taking up the entire screen. It was the one just outside the security office door.

It was there looking right in the camera. It’s eyes locked on mine. I couldn’t look away. I stumbled backwards and fell my head cracking against the floor. The last thing I heard before I passed out was “switch…”

I woke up to the sun streaming in through the blinds and my boss kneeling beside me. He told me Mack had come in and found me unresponsive. I stood up with his help and went straight for the desktop; and I immediately tried to find the security footage from last night.

I was met with the error massage “File manually deleted.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder, “the company likes to deal with these things internally.”

I was sent home for two weeks on what they call “mental health leave.” On my return I was going to be given a partner and a substantial raise. The fence had apparently been repaired and “reinforced,” The elevator permanently decommissioned.

It was the night before I was suppose to return to work, I felt mostly fine other than the goose egg on the back of my head.

I was brushing my teeth when I caught my reflection in the mirror, and something felt off. I know what my face looks like, I’ve looked at it everyday for 25 years. My proportions seemed..off.

I put my hand to my face, it felt tight and papery. The tan I once had was replaced by a sickly yellow color. My eyes seemed sunken in and dull.

I’m typing this now because I don’t know what will happen when I return to work tomorrow night. Part of me doesn’t want to go, but I need the money.

If you’re reading this and I haven’t updated, don’t try and research the mine, don’t try and find this place. Something might try and switch places with you.

“No one ever calls,” Is what my boss told me while he was trying to sell me on this job. “It’s an easy job. You keep the music running, announce the weather, and maintain the machines. Plus you get free room and board. Best job you’ll ever have.”

My dad always told me, “if something seems too good to be true, it probably is.” But I was strapped for cash and living in my car, so this seemed like manna from heaven.

I moved into the station the next day. I say “moved,” which consisted of the duffel bag I was living out of in my car, and a few bottles of warm beer.

It was a tiny ramshackle building that looked like it hadn’t been updated since the 70s. Carpet everywhere, including the bathroom. A cot and nightstand in the “bedroom” which I think at one point was a closet. The bathroom consisted of a sink, toilet, and no shower; and the kitchen was a table with a hot plate and a bucket for a sink. And two huge windows that sat right in front of what I would call the “DJ station” basically the place I would sit with all of the equipment. I couldn’t help but thinking I was gonna need to put up some curtains.

What immediately struck me was the actually radio set up they had in contrast to everything else. It was pristine and looked to be the latest tech, not that I really knew what I was talking about. I’d had a short stint as president of AV club in highschool.

“All this for a town of 50 people huh?”

My boss chuckled nervously before he said “The people in this town depend on the radio station, they don’t like when it goes down. We had a few incidents last year with our old set up, this-this stuff is more reliable, it keeps everyone safe.”

He handed me the keys to the station and left in a hurry. Mumbling something about check the instruction manual before he sped off.

After I unpacked my meager belongings I started combing through the manual. It seemed like standard stuff at first, and pretty easy. How to operate the equipment, simple maintenance, where I can find the latest weather updates, and how to switch out the tracts.

Then it started getting really specific.

1)Keep music playing at all times, you can set the music to play on a loop while you sleep.

2)Announce the weather everyday promptly at 7:00am. If you forget to announce the weather, WAIT 30 MINUTES, then apologize for being late, citing the reason that our weather update was delayed. Then announce the weather as usual.

3)Don’t go outside the station at night.

4)There should never be a call in. If there is, DO NOT ANSWER IT.

5)If someone knocks on the station door after 5:00pm, DO NOT ANSWER OR ACKNOWLEDGE.

Any normal person would’ve hightailed it out of there. But I was broke with nowhere to go but my car. Even with the slightly unsettling rules, this was the best gig I’d had in a while.

It was just after five, and the music had been playing seamlessly since I’d arrived. After going over the manuals multiple times I felt I had a good grasp of the equipment and had been messing with the stations getting my bearings. Staring out the windows in front of me I couldn’t help but feel like a goldfish in a bowl.

It had gotten dark early and I hadn’t heard or seen a car on the road for hours. No road noise, no noise at all actually. No birds, not even the wind. Complete silence. I cracked open the now slightly less warm beer, and started switching the tracks when I heard a knock at the door.

I looked back towards the windows. I hadn’t seen any headlights or heard anyone pull in. Not even kicked up dust. I was just about I get up to answer when I remembered the rules in the manual. I sat down again as the knocking became more persistent.

I tried to ignore it but the knocking became louder and louder until it suddenly stopped, and I heard a dry voice say “Delivery.”

Again I didn’t know much about running a radio station, but I don’t think they got many deliveries.

“Delivery, I need someone to sign.”

I started doubting myself, maybe this was legit, and I needed to sign for some new equipment or something. As I was reasoning with myself my personal phone rang. It was my boss.

“Hey boss just the man-“

“Don’t answer the door.”

I froze in my tracks, hand on the door knob. I asked him how he knew.

“I have access to the security cameras, you should too. It’s in the manual. Don’t answer the door.

I realized I may have skimmed a few parts of the manual. I asked him if he was sure, they were saying it was a delivery and I needed to sign for something.

“There isn’t anyone out there. DO NOT ANSWER THE DOOR.”

“What do you mean I heard-“

With that he hung up, cutting me off mid sentence. I was officially on edge. I needed to get access to those security cameras. I grabbed the manual again and started flipping through it.

All the while the knocking started again. I finally found the instructions for the security cameras, and started to boot up a laptop that was tucked into the corner. After a few mishaps with caps lock I was in.

Just as I opened that camera feed that was linked to the front door the knocking stopped. And I was in the fishbowl again. Eerily silent. The only sound was the low hum of the equipment running.

There was no one there. Save for a few moths attracted to the light fixture above the door. I tried to convince myself that they must’ve just left. They would’ve have to pass right in front of my window, that was the only way to access the way out to the main road. The radio station was backed up against acres of national forestland, there was nothing back there.

I started going through the saved footage and went back to the time stamp when the knocking first started. All I found was a few fuzzy frames with no audio, the file must’ve been corrupted. Out of the few frames I could see, it showed no one standing there.

I downed the rest of the beer and was in the midst of convincing myself that this was all from exhaustion and the stress of nearly being houseless when the phone rang.

And then I did something I shouldn’t. It was a reflex I swear. My body acted before my brain could catch up and I picked up the line.

I instantly realized what I did and had enough sense not to say anything. The call was mostly silent, other than the faint sound of something breathing into the receiver.

I didn’t want to hang up. For some reason I felt like I was in danger, and hanging up would make the situation worse. And then a voice came over the line.

“I know you’re in there. I can see you.”

I stopped breathing and slowly turned my head towards the window. It was too dark out. I couldn’t see much more than what the outside lights illuminated. I couldn’t see anyone.

“Why didn’t you answer the door earlier?”

I hung up the call and dropped to the floor, crawling to the bathroom and locking it. The phone started to ring again. It rang for 30 minutes straight with no signs of stopping.

I debated running to my car, but that would break another rule and I’d already broken one. I decided staying in the bathroom was my best option. After another hour the phone finally stopping ringing.

Thinking I was in the clear I opened the door just enough so I could peek outside the window. I didn’t see anything. I’d started to walk out of the bathroom when I heard another knock at the door.

I sprinted back into the bathroom and slammed the door, my phone lit up and there was already a text from my boss.

“Turn off all the lights, hide. And whatever you do, don’t let the music stop playing.”

The music. I hadn’t switched it to the overnight track. I had about a minute till it the old track ran out.

At this point I didn’t care. I threw the door open and frantically ran around turning off the lights before switching over the track just as the melody for the last song was fading out.

I ran back to the bathroom and locked the door. It took me a minute to realize the knocking had stopped.

My boss found me the next morning curled up in the bathroom. He had a master key and had let himself in after I didn’t answer the door.

We didn’t even need to exchange words as I slowly packed up my stuff and drove away. I never looked back.

A couple weeks later while I was sitting in a coffee shop, scrolling on my phone looking for a a job, a listing popped up. “Tiny town in need of radio host, great benefits + easy work.”

I kept scrolling.

When I first applied for this job it seemed like the perfect job for a nomad like myself. Steady pay for six months, a place to hookup my van, and unlimited showers. All I had to do was make sure the bathrooms were cleaned every morning and the trash cans were emptied every other day. And then of course, there was the set of rules my boss gave me when I showed up for my first shift.

“Now I know these rules may seem strange to you at first, but they will eventually become second nature. This campground is pretty isolated and hard to reach so most of the campers we have here are pretty serious and returnees, so they know the rules themselves pretty well.

You only have to be worried about new campers, which is pretty rare. But in the off chance it does happen, find them immediately and read them the rules. And do your absolute best to convince them to follow them.

There was an incident a couple years back we really don’t want a repeat of.”

With that he handed me a laminated sheet of paper with three rules on them, I expected him to walk off after he handed me the list, but he stood there expectantly, waiting for me to read them.

1)Never leave your campsite at night.

2)Do NOT hum or sing on the trails.

3)When you need to enter any building on the property always knock first.

I couldn’t help but chuckle, these seemed so hyper specific and obscure, I felt like I was being hazed. But glancing up at his face I could tell he was completely serious.

I got the first two, we don’t want anybody getting lost on the trails or disturbing others at night, and a lot of people prefer to hike just to the sounds of nature.

But the third one didn’t make sense, and when I asked my boss about it he simply said “We don’t want to surprise anything that’s on the other side of the door, it’s just good manners.”

The fact that he said “anything” instead of anybody didn’t escape me, but I didn’t push it. I really needed this job. With a few words of encouragement and a reminder to always keep the list on me, he drove off.

It was about 4:00pm at that time, so I decided to get my van setup and then start on my chores. Both the bathrooms and trash had to be taken out today.

As I walked to my van I noted how quiet it was, other than me there were only two others staying at the campground. We really were isolated, the nearest town was an hour away, and the cell reception was basically non existent, expect for one measly bar you could get standing at the farthest edge of the campground near the exit.

I took way longer than expected on my van, and by the time I was done night had already fallen. I realized I hadn’t taken the trash out or cleaned the bathrooms; as I started walking to the edge of my campsite I heard a sharp whistle.

My head turn towards another campsite and through the warm glow of their fire I could make out a figure waving at me.

“Hey, don’t leave your campsite. Whatever you need can wait till morning.”

“Oh okay, it’s my first day and I totally forgot to take the trash out and stuff.”

The figure sighed and said with a little more urgency, “Don’t leave your campsite, wait till first light and then take it out. We can wait.” Then they walked off, receding further back into their campsite. I got the feeling they didn’t like standing to close to the perimeter.

I couldn’t help but thinking that they really do take the rules seriously here. I was happy to do it in the morning, I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be poking around the campground at night. Even though I wasn’t necessarily convinced about the rules, they did set me on edge.

I stood at the edge of my campsite a little longer before heading back to my van, and as I turned around I felt a cool breeze tickle the back of my neck, almost like someone had blown on it.

Which normally wouldn’t have stood out to me, except for the fact that it was August, and summer was in full swing. I quickened my pace and slammed the door as soon as I was inside. I scanned my campsite and saw nothing. I made a mental note to light a fire from now on, and too tired to do anything else I rolled over and fell asleep.

I was woken up by a timid sounding knock at the door. It startled me nonetheless, and I shot up. I was met by a young couple who were as equally shocked to see me, the husband stepped forward to greet me as I opened the door.

“Sorry we didn’t mean to startle you, but we were wondering if you had any open campsites?”

Still drowsy and rubbing sleep out of my eyes, I got up and showed them the sign in board, where we had a list of all the sites available that day.

The wife thanked me and started to explain that they were taking a spontaneous trip and had made a bet that they would stay the night at the first place they came across, and so on and so forth the entire weekend.

Finally my brain started worked again and I had the wherewithal to ask them if they had ever stayed here before.

While filling out the paperwork they both explained that they lived in the town that was an hour away and they had heard about this place but never actually stayed here. “We were too scared too because of the stories, but this place seems totally normal.”

Before I could ask them to explain they rushed off to their campsite, and I realized that I still hadn’t done any of the chores I was supposed to. The posted sign on the showers says that they open everyday at 8:00am.

I checked my watch as I headed over to the showers, 7:30. Just enough time. There were only three showers so I didn’t anticipate it taking that long.

Just as I put my hand on the door knob I heard a voice from behind me.

“Did you knock?”

I recognized the voice from last night and realized it was the same camper who had warned me before.

“Sheesh, you really need to keep the list on you or memorize them. Otherwise you won’t last much longer than the last guy.”

I sheepishly fished the list from my back pocket as they rolled their eyes. They started walking back to their campsite before shouting out to hurry up with the showers.

I took one last look at the list before I did in fact knock on the door. To my surprise instead of being met by silence like I expected I heard a soft shuffling from behind the door, like someone moved out of the way.

I slowly turned the knob and opened the door, giving a trepidatious “hello” before I stepped inside. I was met with no answer. Maybe I was just hearing things, I didn’t have the best sleep last night.

But I still couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been there, waiting just behind the door, hoping I wouldn’t remember to knock. I cleaned the showers and connected bathrooms as fast as I could, it felt suffocating in there and I welcomed the fresh air as I burst out of the door.

Waiting in front of me were the rest of the campers, minus the new couple. Two guys (one whom I recognized) and a mother and her daughter. “All set” I said, as I walked away, but not before I saw the first set of people walk up to the door, knock, wait and then enter.

By this point I was sufficiently creeped out. But I realized I had nothing to base this on except a stupid set of rules everyone was hellbent on keeping.

The rest of the day passed without incident, I did a few rounds on the provided golf cart, picked up trash here and there, easy stuff. As I passed the new guests campsite I screeched to a halt, I forgot to tell them about the rules.

I immediately got nervous and ran over to their campsite. Thankfully they were there, and I gave them the same speech my boss gave me. And I was met by the same looks that I gave my boss. I had done my due diligence, and with one last emphasis of the rules, I gave them a copy and headed back to the golf cart. I really didn’t press as hard as I should have, but I wasn’t even entirely convinced of the rules myself. As I walked away I realized they didn’t have much stuff, barely anything at all besides what was on their backs, I didn’t even think I saw a tent.

Night had fallen and I realized once again that I had forgotten to take out the trash. My boss was coming tomorrow morning to check up on me and I really didn’t want him to see the mountain of garbage in our tiny dumpster.

I bit my lip and pondered whether I should go or not. I couldn’t trust myself to wake up early enough. My eyes scanned the campground, no fires tonight, the other campers must’ve already gone to bed.

I grabbed a head lamp and headed towards the dumpster. The only sounds in the entire forest were my footsteps and the occasional twig that I happened to tread upon.

I couldn’t relax, it was too quiet. You couldn’t even hear the wind even though you could see the trees swaying back and forth. The birds that I heard only an hour ago had gone silent.

As I was busy wrangling the trash into the dumpster when I heard footsteps behind me, I whipped around and was met with the new couple from earlier.

“Sorry, my wife really had to pee and didn’t want to go alone.”

“Didn’t you read the rules? You aren’t supposed to leave your campsite?”

They looked at each other and then back at me, “then why are you out here?”

Touché, I told them to hurry up and turned back to the dumpster. I wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. I realized after a few minutes I never heard the couple walk off, turning back around I realized they hadn’t moved and were still behind me, eery grins pasted on their faces.

“You really should’ve followed the rules.”

I was frozen to the spot and the same cold breeze passed over me that I had felt my first day here. The air filled with static, and my heart felt heavy in my chest. The couple seemed to leer and move closer without actually taking a step. Suddenly I heard a voice from behind me and a warm hand on my wrist, “back up slowly and walk to my campsite with me, don’t take your eyes off of whatever you’re looking at.”

I did exactly that, the couple followed. Each step I took, so did they. Thankfully I was a few feet ahead of them. They moved in unison now, and looking carefully at them, their flesh has started to mold together, like they were absorbing one another.

We made it back to his campsite and I felt the warmth of the fire behind me. I still hadn’t turned around. The couple had now followed us just to the edge of the campsite, but wouldn’t take a step further. They had now fully merged together creating this grotesque fusion of flesh.

“Whatever’s out there won’t cross the perimeter as long as you keep you keep looking.That’s the price you have to pay for breaking the rules, there is always a price”.

Keeping my eyes on them or it at this point, I asked if he could see what I was seeing. He went on to explain that everyone sees or experiences something different when they break the rules, and no one else but them can see it.

“Have you ever broken a rule?”

The silence was filled with pain, and when he finally spoke I could hear how thick his voice was, “too many.” The night didn’t pass as long as you might’ve thought. The adrenaline kept me going, as well as the fire and company behind me. And as soon as first light crested the trees, it vanished.

I turned around to thank the man who I now knew as Mathew, but he was asleep by the dwindling fire. I didn’t want to wake him.

I was wresting with the fact that there was never any couple and that whatever had checked in the day before was never going to check out when I heard a truck pulling up to the campsite. My boss.

It didn’t take more than a look for him to realize I’d broken the rules. He listened to the story calmly, and when I’d finished, he paused before asking me “so, do you still want the job?”

He explained that they really couldn’t afford to leave the campground without a host for long periods of time, and I had now experienced the consequences for myself.

I surprised myself by agreeing to stay on for the rest of the season; just as I saw a family pulling up in a mini van, 4 kids cramming their faces against the window.

My boss saw them too this time, and told me “good luck”, as he hauled off in his truck. I almost wanted to go with him.

So if you happen to be a guest or even find yourself working at an isolated campground with an odd set of rules, take them seriously.

1)Don’t talk to your coworkers.
2) Never look at what’s inside the packages.

When I first applied for this job, it seemed like easy money. Clock in, coast through the shift, and clock out. I could deal with the two, albeit weird rules. Besides, it pays really well, too well. The rules didn’t even weird me out at first, it was the night shift, there weren’t really that many of us on shift anyway, and who wants to be bothered at work?

As for the other rule, I assumed it was some kind of customer confidentiality or something. You may be asking, how can you work at a shipping warehouse and not at some point look at what you’re shipping out?

That’s what I thought during my first day of orientation. But in reality, calling what we’re doing “packaging” or “shipping” is a stretch. As it was explained to me, and what I eventually came to do myself is, you stand at your station; everyone has a strictly assigned station that does NOT change. Each station has a conveyor belt attached. At exactly five minute intervals a new package will come down the conveyor belt.

It will always be sealed, pre-taped, pre-packaged, and ready to go. Our job is to simply weigh it, print the appropriate labels, and put it into a cart that is on the opposite end of our station.

If for some reason a box comes down the conveyor belt that has not been properly sealed or is opened, we are to immediately put on a provided eye mask, hit the alarm button under our desk, and sit quietly while waiting for security.

That had never happened to me, and I’d never heard of it happening to anyone else on the night shift. Of course, I wouldn’t because we aren’t allowed to talk to each other.

I’d been at this job for about a month now. It was going pretty well, my body felt like it had finally adjusted to the schedule. Everyone seemed nice, as nice as they could. Polite smiles, gestures, we said what we could with our faces. The only thing I personally found weird was the fact that I was the youngest person there, by A LOT. I got the feeling they tried to keep us as seperate as possible.

We all arrived at staggered times, possibly so we wouldn’t run into each other in the parking lot or on the stairs. And we all had to eat lunch at our stations. This wasn’t a rule, they just didn’t have a break room, or any extra chairs besides the ones you sat on to work. But again, it didn’t seem to bother anyone.

It was a Monday, start of the week, start of my shift. I glanced around the parking lot as I got out of my car, I was the first one there today. As I started to walk towards the building I could hear the sound of another car pulling in. I got the feeling that I shouldn’t look back, or wait up for whoever it was, after all, they aren’t supposed to be here right now. I never noticed any cameras, but I’m sure there were.

I quickened my pace and made it to the front doors just as I heard their car door slam shut. Waiting for the security officer to buzz me in seemed like it took forever. I’d only realized I’d been holding my breath, when I let out a huge sigh as soon as I stepped through the doors.

I wanted to let the security guard know what happened, but I thought the better of it. I wasn’t totally sure if the security guard counted as a coworker anyway, but I wasn’t about to risk it. Today was already off to a weird start.

As I started descending down the staircase, I was hit by an odor that got stronger the closer I got to our floor. It was a mix of cleaning solution, tinged with a coppery smell. By the time I walked through our door it stung my eyes. Looking around the room I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, except for one missing station, #5.

At my station I found a note from HR on my desk. “Due to an incident last night, station #5 has been removed. Your workload will increase by .25%.” I wrinkled my brow as I tried to remember what the lady at station #5 looked like. Older….glasses…brown hair? Maybe. I didn’t even know her name. The note didn’t sit well with me. I forgot some staff worked weekends.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps down the stairs and our door slamming open. I looked up to see the man who worked at station #3, drenched in sweat, with an expression that read as both haunted and empty. He must have been the one to pull in right after me.

We locked eyes, and I immediately wish we hadn’t. He beelined straight for me, and looked like he was about to speak to me, when he thought the better of it, took one look around, scribbled something on a post it, handed it to me and hurried back to his station.

I didn’t want to look, I didn’t know if I’d get in trouble. There wasn’t really a rule about passing notes. But I wish I hadn’t.

“She looked.”

A shiver ran down my spine. I quickly pocketed the note. I didn’t know what to do, I don’t know what he expected me to do. All I knew is something bad happened last night, something bad enough to warrant him risking communicating with me.

I tried to get lost in the work, the monotony and predictably of it was soothing. I had almost put what had happened out of mind, until I saw the next package coming down my conveyer belt. It was open. Not completely, it seemed like someone hadn’t taped it all the way so both flaps were peeking up at the corner.

I should’ve put on my eye mask and rang the bell immediately, but as the package was deposited right in front of me, curiosity got the better of me. I looked.

An infinite black chasm sat before me, I couldn’t believe my eyes. How could a box hold something like this. As I studied it more I started hearing something come from inside the chasm, whispering. It beckoned me in, I found myself leaning closer to the box and black chasm below, my ear had almost dipped into the black void when I saw and felt something reach out of the chasm and grab my throat.

I was suffocating as its grip tightened and the whispering grew louder. It was pulling me into the chasm as it was asphyxiating me. I couldn’t see and was clawing wildly at anything I could grab but it was too strong. My head and shoulders were almost fully in when I out of the corner of my eye I saw someone run over, stab the hand that was grabbing me, yank me back, and tape the box shut.

I landed on the floor and laid there catching my breath. I finally realized who saved me, the man from station #3. We both looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity. He simply nodded and went back to his station.

I on the other hand, packed up my things, left my badge at my station and walked out of there.

As I’m sitting here typing this now, I’m realizing he had a pin on his vest “25 years serving happily at \[redacted\].” The expression on his face made sense now.

I was able to do some digging about the company, great employee reviews, excellent pension plan and benefits, free mental health services. A great pension plan, but as I came to find out, no one ever used it.

Several comments from employees stating:

“I never intend to use my pension, I enjoy the work too much-Sam.” “

Why would I ever leave?-Dolores.”

How old was the lady at station #5, my memory was fuzzy. I guess she was pretty old. A noise at my door interrupted my thoughts. As I got up to check it out the noise faded.

I peeked out the window and saw something sitting on my doorstep. My hands trembled as I opened the door, reaching out to grab whatever it was.

My badge.

If you’re reading this take it as a warning to never work a night shift at a place with weird rules, even if the pension is great.

As long as I can remember there was only one rule my parents enforced without any hesitation. We had to cover all the mirrors in our house as soon as the sun started to set.

This wasn’t just my families rule, it was a neighborhood rule. No one knows when the rule first became a rule, but it’s one the whole neighborhood takes seriously.

10 minutes before sunset everyday an emergency broadcast went out warning everyone to go inside and cover all mirrors in the home. And they meant all mirrors. Bedroom mirrors, bathroom mirrors, if your child has a little dress up vanity that has a mirror, it needs to be covered.

Eventually some families in got rid of their mirrors all together.

Occasionally you would hear something happen in a house close to you, cries, wailing, screams. And then the next morning you would see a black SUV in front of the house. You would never see anyone go in or out, but eventually the car would drive away slowly. And the house would lay empty for a few months before a new tenant would move in.

My parents ended up joining a welcoming committee. Their one task? Informing any new residents about the mirrors, and trying their hardest to get them to take it seriously. The turnaround in houses in the neighborhood had begun to become a concern.

Our household procedure was simple. My parents would cover all the mirrors downstairs and I would handle the mirrors upstairs, there were less. My little sister was only two and just learning to crawl, so we would stick her in the playpen while we were covering mirrors.

As far as I knew, our neighborhood was the only one in town that had this bizarre rule. It would get brought up at school sometimes, the kids from other communities would tease us about it. But the ones who lived in our neighborhood would just sit quietly, an air of solidarity about them. We knew.

I had no reason to doubt the rule. I believed my parents, and I’d heard the rumors, and the screams. I always hated one part of the emergency broadcast, they always ended it with a phrase that sent shivers down my spine every time. “And remember neighbors, mirrors are doorways. Keep them shut!”

It was a chilly fall evening, and the sun has started to set earlier than the summer months. I had gotten use to playing outside until well after 7:00pm. That’s why It took me by surprise when I heard the emergency broadcast begun to play over the speakers attached to the street lights. Immediately the whole vibe the neighborhood changed.

The air seemed to get heavier. Everything went eerily quiet. You couldn’t even hear the birds anymore. Everyone dropped what they were doing and walked stiffly inside. Kids left their bikes in the road, no one bothered to wrap up the hoses they were using, trash bags stayed right where they were dropped. Everything stopped.

My parents were waiting for me at the door as I walked in. They immediately handed me a roll of duct tape and a stack of sheets. We didn’t exchange words, we didn’t need too.

I walked upstairs and started in the bedroom myself and my sister shared. I always counted the mirrors as soon as I walked into the room. Same as yesterday, two mirrors. One on our dresser, and one on our closet door. Stretching the first sheet out, I began making quick work of the first mirror. I could hear my sister babbling in her playpen downstairs.

I hated covering the mirrors, I always felt like something was watching me from the other side. Waiting for me to mess up, to forget to cover a mirror, or not cover it fully. All it needs is a little sliver.

I brushed off the feeling and started on the next mirror, I needed to hurry up, it was almost time. I was halfway out the door when I noticed something shiny under the bed. I bent down to pick it up and realize it was a mirror my sister used to play dolls with. I heaved a sigh of relief. This didn’t need a sheet right? I shrugged, walked over to the dresser and put it in a drawer mirror side facing down. Good enough.

I finished with the last mirror just in time. I walked downstairs, and nodded to my parents. After that the evening resulted in whatever crock pot meal my mom had prepared that morning. I wish we were able to order take out. No one in town would deliver to this neighborhood after sunset.

Not after we found the pizza guys car; gas running, pizza boxes crushed and scattered on the asphalt around the car, all the mirrors shattered, and no pizza guy. The black SUV was there that day, we never found out exactly what happened.

Finally it was time for bed, the evenings lasted forever around here. As I crawled under the covers, I couldn’t help but thinking how badly I wanted school to start again. Then I would at least have something to keep me busy and take my mind off those stupid mirrors.

I don’t know long I was asleep for, or what time it was when I was woken up by the sound of my sister fussing in her crib. I groaned as I sat up and bleerily looked towards where I thought she was across the room.

It was so hard to make out anything in the dark, but it was quiet again, so I assumed she just went back to sleep. With a yawn I rolled back over. She was always fussy, tonight was no different.

The next thing I knew I woke up with a start drenched in sweat. I don’t know why I woke up, but I had a pit in my stomach, something was wrong. It was too quiet in our bedroom. I couldn’t even hear my sister breathing.

“Katie” I cried out. Silence. I fumbled around with the sheets and crossed the room to turn on the light. She wasn’t in her crib.

My heart started beating so loud I could hear it in my ears. I tore the room apart, she liked to play hide and seek, but she wasn’t there. Then a realization smacked me in the face. The mirror in the dresser.

I tore the drawer open and was relieved to see it was still face down in the exact same place I had left it. The relief was momentary as I heard movement downstairs.

I screamed for my mom and dad as I ran down the stairs. I was trying so hard to be quiet, to see if I could head her crawling across the floor boards. “Katieeeee” I called out. Nothing. “Katie do you want to place hide and seek?”

I heard a small giggle, and heard her say “come find me.”

I ran faster than I ever could across the house, my parents not far behind. I threw open the door to the study just in time to see my baby sister, smile at me, wave, and crawl through the uncovered portion of the floor length mirror next to my dad’s desk.

My mother screamed, and my dad ran over to the mirror. It was solid again.

The black SUV came the next morning. My parents sent me to my room while they were talking.

We never saw my sister again. But every now and then I swear I hear her giggle at night, asking me to come find her.

As long as I can remember there was only one rule my parents enforced without any hesitation. We had to cover all the mirrors in our house as soon as the sun started to set.

This wasn’t just my families rule, it was a neighborhood rule. No one knows when the rule first became a rule, but it’s one the whole neighborhood takes seriously.

10 minutes before sunset everyday an emergency broadcast went out warning everyone to go inside and cover all mirrors in the home. And they meant all mirrors. Bedroom mirrors, bathroom mirrors, if your child has a little dress up vanity that has a mirror, it needs to be covered.

Eventually some families in got rid of their mirrors all together.

Occasionally you would hear something happen in a house close to you, cries, wailing, screams. And then the next morning you would see a black SUV in front of the house. You would never see anyone go in or out, but eventually the car would drive away slowly. And the house would lay empty for a few months before a new tenant would move in.

My parents ended up joining a welcoming committee. Their one task? Informing any new residents about the mirrors, and trying their hardest to get them to take it seriously. The turnaround in houses in the neighborhood had begun to become a concern.

Our household procedure was simple. My parents would cover all the mirrors downstairs and I would handle the mirrors upstairs, there were less. My little sister was only two and just learning to crawl, so we would stick her in the playpen while we were covering mirrors.

As far as I knew, our neighborhood was the only one in town that had this bizarre rule. It would get brought up at school sometimes, the kids from other communities would tease us about it. But the ones who lived in our neighborhood would just sit quietly, an air of solidarity about them. We knew.

I had no reason to doubt the rule. I believed my parents, and I’d heard the rumors, and the screams. I always hated one part of the emergency broadcast, they always ended it with a phrase that sent shivers down my spine every time. “And remember neighbors, mirrors are doorways. Keep them shut!”

It was a chilly fall evening, and the sun has started to set earlier than the summer months. I had gotten use to playing outside until well after 7:00pm. That’s why It took me by surprise when I heard the emergency broadcast begun to play over the speakers attached to the street lights. Immediately the whole vibe the neighborhood changed.

The air seemed to get heavier. Everything went eerily quiet. You couldn’t even hear the birds anymore. Everyone dropped what they were doing and walked stiffly inside. Kids left their bikes in the road, no one bothered to wrap up the hoses they were using, trash bags stayed right where they were dropped. Everything stopped.

My parents were waiting for me at the door as I walked in. They immediately handed me a roll of duct tape and a stack of sheets. We didn’t exchange words, we didn’t need too.

I walked upstairs and started in the bedroom myself and my sister shared. I always counted the mirrors as soon as I walked into the room. Same as yesterday, two mirrors. One on our dresser, and one on our closet door. Stretching the first sheet out, I began making quick work of the first mirror. I could hear my sister babbling in her playpen downstairs.

I hated covering the mirrors, I always felt like something was watching me from the other side. Waiting for me to mess up, to forget to cover a mirror, or not cover it fully. All it needs is a little sliver.

I brushed off the feeling and started on the next mirror, I needed to hurry up, it was almost time. I was halfway out the door when I noticed something shiny under the bed. I bent down to pick it up and realize it was a mirror my sister used to play dolls with. I heaved a sigh of relief. This didn’t need a sheet right? I shrugged, walked over to the dresser and put it in a drawer mirror side facing down. Good enough.

I finished with the last mirror just in time. I walked downstairs, and nodded to my parents. After that the evening resulted in whatever crock pot meal my mom had prepared that morning. I wish we were able to order take out. No one in town would deliver to this neighborhood after sunset.

Not after we found the pizza guys car; gas running, pizza boxes crushed and scattered on the asphalt around the car, all the mirrors shattered, and no pizza guy. The black SUV was there that day, we never found out exactly what happened.

Finally it was time for bed, the evenings lasted forever around here. As I crawled under the covers, I couldn’t help but thinking how badly I wanted school to start again. Then I would at least have something to keep me busy and take my mind off those stupid mirrors.

I don’t know long I was asleep for, or what time it was when I was woken up by the sound of my sister fussing in her crib. I groaned as I sat up and bleerily looked towards where I thought she was across the room.

It was so hard to make out anything in the dark, but it was quiet again, so I assumed she just went back to sleep. With a yawn I rolled back over. She was always fussy, tonight was no different.

The next thing I knew I woke up with a start drenched in sweat. I don’t know why I woke up, but I had a pit in my stomach, something was wrong. It was too quiet in our bedroom. I couldn’t even hear my sister breathing.

“Katie” I cried out. Silence. I fumbled around with the sheets and crossed the room to turn on the light. She wasn’t in her crib.

My heart started beating so loud I could hear it in my ears. I tore the room apart, she liked to play hide and seek, but she wasn’t there. Then a realization smacked me in the face. The mirror in the dresser.

I tore the drawer open and was relieved to see it was still face down in the exact same place I had left it. The relief was momentary as I heard movement downstairs.

I screamed for my mom and dad as I ran down the stairs. I was trying so hard to be quiet, to see if I could head her crawling across the floor boards. “Katieeeee” I called out. Nothing. “Katie do you want to place hide and seek?”

I heard a small giggle, and heard her say “come find me.”

I ran faster than I ever could across the house, my parents not far behind. I threw open the door to the study just in time to see my baby sister, smile at me, wave, and crawl through the uncovered portion of the floor length mirror next to my dad’s desk.

My mother screamed, and my dad ran over to the mirror. It was solid again.

The black SUV came the next morning. My parents sent me to my room while they were talking.

We never saw my sister again. But every now and then I swear I hear her giggle at night, asking me to come find her.

1. Don’t talk to your coworkers
2. Never look at what’s inside the packages

When I first applied for this job, it seemed like easy money. Clock in, coast through the shift, and clock out. I could deal with the two, albeit weird rules. Besides, it pays really well, too well. The rules didn’t even weird me out at first, it was the night shift, there weren’t really that many of us on shift anyway, and who wants to be bothered at work?

As for the other rule, I assumed it was some kind of customer confidentiality or something. You may be asking, how can you work at a shipping warehouse and not at some point look at what you’re shipping out?

That’s what I thought during my first day of orientation. But in reality, calling what we’re doing “packaging” or “shipping” is a stretch. As it was explained to me, and what I eventually came to do myself is, you stand at your station; everyone has a strictly assigned station that does NOT change. Each station has a conveyor belt attached. At exactly five minute intervals a new package will come down the conveyor belt.

It will always be sealed, pre-taped, pre-packaged, and ready to go. Our job is to simply weigh it, print the appropriate labels, and put it into a cart that is on the opposite end of our station.

If for some reason a box comes down the conveyor belt that has not been properly sealed or is opened, we are to immediately put on a provided eye mask, hit the alarm button under our desk, and sit quietly while waiting for security.

That had never happened to me, and I’d never heard of it happening to anyone else on the night shift. Of course, I wouldn’t because we aren’t allowed to talk to each other.

I’d been at this job for about a month now. It was going pretty well, my body felt like it had finally adjusted to the schedule. Everyone seemed nice, as nice as they could. Polite smiles, gestures, we said what we could with our faces. The only thing I personally found weird was the fact that I was the youngest person there, by A LOT. I got the feeling they tried to keep us as seperate as possible.

We all arrived at staggered times, possibly so we wouldn’t run into each other in the parking lot or on the stairs. And we all had to eat lunch at our stations. This wasn’t a rule, they just didn’t have a break room, or any extra chairs besides the ones you sat on to work. But again, it didn’t seem to bother anyone.

It was a Monday, start of the week, start of my shift. I glanced around the parking lot as I got out of my car, I was the first one there today. As I started to walk towards the building I could hear the sound of another car pulling in. I got the feeling that I shouldn’t look back, or wait up for whoever it was, after all, they aren’t supposed to be here right now. I never noticed any cameras, but I’m sure there were.

I quickened my pace and made it to the front doors just as I heard their car door slam shut. Waiting for the security officer to buzz me in seemed like it took forever. I’d only realized I’d been holding my breath, when I let out a huge sigh as soon as I stepped through the doors.

I wanted to let the security guard know what happened, but I thought the better of it. I wasn’t totally sure if the security guard counted as a coworker anyway, but I wasn’t about to risk it. Today was already off to a weird start.

As I started descending down the staircase, I was hit by an odor that got stronger the closer I got to our floor. It was a mix of cleaning solution, tinged with a coppery smell. By the time I walked through our door it stung my eyes. Looking around the room I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, except for one missing station, #5.

At my station I found a note from HR on my desk. “Due to an incident last night, station #5 has been removed. Your workload will increase by .25%.” I wrinkled my brow as I tried to remember what the lady at station #5 looked like. Older….glasses…brown hair? Maybe. I didn’t even know her name. The note didn’t sit well with me. I forgot some staff worked weekends.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps down the stairs and our door slamming open. I looked up to see the man who worked at station #3, drenched in sweat, with an expression that read as both haunted and empty. He must have been the one to pull in right after me.

We locked eyes, and I immediately wish we hadn’t. He beelined straight for me, and looked like he was about to speak to me, when he thought the better of it, took one look around, scribbled something on a post it, handed it to me and hurried back to his station.

I didn’t want to look, I didn’t know if I’d get in trouble. There wasn’t really a rule about passing notes. But I wish I hadn’t.

“She looked.”

A shiver ran down my spine. I quickly pocketed the note. I didn’t know what to do, I don’t know what he expected me to do. All I knew is something bad happened last night, something bad enough to warrant him risking communicating with me.

I tried to get lost in the work, the monotony and predictably of it was soothing. I had almost put what had happened out of mind, until I saw the next package coming down my conveyer belt. It was open. Not completely, it seemed like someone hadn’t taped it all the way so both flaps were peeking up at the corner.

I should’ve put on my eye mask and rang the bell immediately, but as the package was deposited right in front of me, curiosity got the better of me. I looked.

An infinite black chasm sat before me, I couldn’t believe my eyes. How could a box hold something like this. As I studied it more I started hearing something come from inside the chasm, whispering. It beckoned me in, I found myself leaning closer to the box and black chasm below, my ear had almost dipped into the black void when I saw and felt something reach out of the chasm and grab my throat.

I was suffocating as its grip tightened and the whispering grew louder. It was pulling me into the chasm as it was asphyxiating me. I couldn’t see and was clawing wildly at anything I could grab but it was too strong. My head and shoulders were almost fully in when I out of the corner of my eye I saw someone run over, stab the hand that was grabbing me, yank me back, and tape the box shut.

I landed on the floor and laid there catching my breath. I finally realized who saved me, the man from station #3. We both looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity. He simply nodded and went back to his station.

I on the other hand, packed up my things, left my badge at my station and walked out of there.

As I’m sitting here typing this now, I’m realizing he had a pin on his vest “25 years serving happily at [redacted].” The expression on his face made sense now.

I was able to do some digging about the company, great employee reviews, excellent pension plan and benefits, free mental health services. A great pension plan, but as I came to find out, no one ever used it.

Several comments from employees stating:

“I never intend to use my pension, I enjoy the work too much-Sam.” “

Why would I ever leave?-Dolores.”

How old was the lady at station #5, my memory was fuzzy. I guess she was pretty old. A noise at my door interrupted my thoughts. As I got up to check it out the noise faded.

I peeked out the window and saw something sitting on my doorstep. My hands trembled as I opened the door, reaching out to grab whatever it was.

My badge.

If you’re reading this take it as a warning to never work a night shift at a place with weird rules, even if the pension is great.

I didn’t know where else to put this, but the group r/justsmalltownthings, seems the most fitting of my options.

I live in sweet. Literally, I live in the town of sweet, [redacted]. You could describe it as a small drive through town of about 1000 people, best known for our local honey. Ironic.

Save for one gas station, a surprisingly well stocked grocery store, and a radio station, that’s about all there is to see. I say radio station, it’s a dinghy shack that’s been in need of a new roof for 20 years that only broadcasts one station, the local news. Which in sweet, you can imagine is pretty dry. “Mrs.sanders lost her cat again, please be on the lookout,” and the like.

Except everyday at 4:00pm, when it broadcasts the same message like clockwork. “Please remember sweet family, if you hear a knock at 5:00pm, don’t answer the door.”

Not 4:59, not 5:01pm, not 5:05pm. Precisely 5:00pm. If you heard a knock at your door at 4:59pm and you decided to answer it, you’re in the clear, if you heard a knock at 5:01pm go right ahead. 5:00pm.

Growing up here, myself and my brother heard that message 1,000 times. Never paid any mind too it. Maybe we should’ve.

It was a Friday, the itch of the weekend was upon us. I had just gotten back from school after picking up my brother from his life skills class. He was older than me by quite a bit, but I always felt like the older brother, he was non verbal and my mom would always tell me “he’s gifted in other ways.”

As we walked in the door my mind was already on how we were going to spend the evening until my parents got back. Crossing the room I noticed a note on the fridge. “Your father and I have too work an extra shift at the grocery store, defrost the lasagna in the fridge for dinner, make sure you cut it into small bites for you brother, and don’t open the door at 5:00pm. -love mom.”

Standard note, I hated lasagna. I checked the clock 3:30. I could hear my brother in the background as I was taking the lasagna out of the fridge. Already preparing for his after school routine, a bowl of red m&m’s and turning on the local radio station. I never understood why he always liked to listen to that drivel.

I realize it’s 4:00pm, when I hear the announcement “Please remember sweet family, if you hear a knock at 5:00pm, don’t answer the door.”

Anyone in sweet will tell you, people start getting a little anxious around this time. Shutters close, people lock their doors, the streets get pretty quiet. I’d never personally known anyone who opened their door at 5:00pm. But I’ve heard the stories.

Nothing grisly, no murders, but enough to make people obey day after day.

Someone after opening the door starts walking and is never seen again.

A former school teachers husband was drunk one day and opened the door at 5:00pm not realizing the time, and had a heart attack on the spot.

I was at home when that happened, you could hear his wife pleading with him, or at least I thought so. “Please don’t, please, we can fix this, I’m sorry.”

Other than a drinking problem, healthy guy, early 20s. He lived, but was never the same after. Now he just sits on the front porch from morning till 4:50pm. He has a look in his eyes, one that you don’t ever want to have.

I stop reminiscing as I hear the oven beep, it’s done preheating. I check the clock again as I slide the oven in 4:50pm. Almost time.

I take a couple quick strides across the room and deadbolt the front door, and close the curtains. I debate if I should close the blinds that sit behind curtain….it should be fine.

Each minute that ticks by brings an increased level of anxiety, I feel each hair on my stand in edge. We just have to make it till 5:01pm. I steal a glance at my brother. His bowl of m&m’s is almost gone. I bring him the bag to sort through so he can pick out the red ones. He loves to sort them out. He flashed me a smile as I walk back to the kitchen. A man of few words, no words actually.

4:55pm, I need something to keep myself busy. I start pulling out plates, cups and silverware. Lasagna isn’t even close to being done, but I have to do something. It actually works and I get in a rhythm well all of a sudden I hear the m&m’s fall to the floor, they sounded like rain on the cheap linoleum.

“Miles, are you okay bud-?” I don’t get to finish that sentence. I turn around just as I hear the knock and see my brothers hand on the door. The knock itself sounded just like an old friend was knocking on your door, so inviting. Of course you’d want to open it.

I don’t know why but I still turn to the clock on the stove even though I knew exactly what time it is. My body will always know when it’s 5:00pm.

It’s too late. The door creaks open, and the room fills with static. That’s the best way I can describe it anyway. I didn’t even realize but I had dropped to my hands and knees, looking down I could see red spots of blood on the floor. I instinctively bring my hand to my ears and it comes back red.

I have to use the counter to help me stand up as it feel like gravity has increased by a metric ton. My brother is at the door his hand still on the door knob. He was gripping it so hard it started to dent. I tried to cry out but no sound would come out of my mouth and I couldn’t take a step even if I tried.

Something wanted me to look away, I could feel it. But I couldn’t, if I couldn’t help my brother I at least needed to see. I followed his gaze out the door just as a spindly white hand was reaching through the doorway. A sickly sweet odor appeared as more of this thing was making its way in. Rotting flesh.

The whole time it was whispering something to my brother, something it only wanted him to hear. Its gaunt figure was started to tower over my brother. I was covered head to toe in sweat, and about to pass out when my brother suddenly snaps his head towards me and says “run”.

Just like that the spell was broken and I tore out the back door as fast I could. I didn’t stop running until I got to the grocery store.

My parents took one look at me and knew. We slowly walked back towards the house. The front door was still open, and my brother was gone.

The evidence anything had actually happened was the door knob, the smell of burnt lasagna, and crushed red m&m’s.

We’re moving today.No more sweet for us. I took the door knob with me. As a reminder of my brother I guess. Typing this I’m still trying to process everything that happened. My parents don’t want to talk about it.

All I can say is, if you ever find yourself in a small town with a strange rule or set of rules. Follow them.