u/ManyResponsible2268

Many of you have probably worked late night shifts right? Rather it be a job you had as a part time or full time gig in college or high school you probably know all the cons that come with it. It fucks with your sleep schedule on multiple levels and is very lonely most of the time due to the lack of customers, if any at all and it can be mind numbingly monotonous. Many of you probably had the luxury of it being a short-lived job. You probably also had the luxury of not going through the same thing I did. I had to do it for two whole years and on my last shift something bizarre happened. You see I just got out of college and I couldn't find a job in the field I had got a degree in. As such I had to stick with the job I had gotten a year prior. As I’m sure you guessed the job was, of course, a late night gig. More specifically, a late-night gig at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. And I do mean the middle of nowhere. It was quite literally just a road, a gas station, and then just a bunch of woods on both sides. I have no clue who thinks to themselves, “I know where would be a good place for a gas station! In the middle of a lonely road surrounded by woods!" but I don’t like them on a personal level. Driving down that road always gave me the creeps. Now if you can not tell by now, I didn't like my job. I did not like the drive to and back, the customers who came in two varieties: asshole and crackhead, the fact our only form of defense was an old baseball bat, and I did not like the coworker I usually worked with, Hank. Hank was a forty something year, bald, fat guy who seemingly had crippling social ineptitude. His “indoor voice” sounded like he was constantly raising his voice, he was wildly unfunny, and he could never shut up. On more than one occasion would be talking to me while I was trying to help a customer. Like I said, the customers who weren't crackheads were assholes so a lot of them stormed out or yelled at Hank for speaking over them which is what he was doing. When Hank did get yelled at which was rather common he would go dead silent usually for the rest of the shift with a sour look on his face. Anyway this incident takes place in the summer of twenty eighteen. It was a surprisingly cold night and as I pulled into the gas station parking lot, I could already see Hank through the windows of the gas station. I parked my car, got out, walked to the front and prayed Hank had already been yelled at. Unfortunately I was greeted with a "You`re late!” followed by laughter from Hank. I went to the back which was a small room that acted both as a computer room and a janitor closet, clocked in on the computer, and then manned the cashier in front. “Why do you think a vent grate is on the wall in the back that just leads to the outside?” Hank asked. “I don`t know Hank nor do I care.” I said aggressively. Hank seemingly not caring about my rudeness continued on but I blanked him out. His voice became white noise to me at this point. The first customer of the night was a guy in his 50s or 60s who looked like he got into arguments for fun. “Ten gallons on pump two.” he said in a rasp voice. “Cash or credit?” I asked. He scoffed, “Yeah, jeez thanks.” He said before turning around and beginning his walk back to his car. Right before he exited he turned around and looked at me. “I have been here twice and you assholes have not done your job once.” he said, raising his voice. Bewildered, it took me a second to realize what he said. “Sir, you have to pay first.” I said with confusion in my voice. “I`ll kick your ass!”. There was a moment of silence between me and the man before he stormed out. I could tell that it was going to be a long night. Hank, who was sweeping the back room and engrossed with his own voice was seemingly completely unaware that there even was a customer a moment ago, walked up to the counter. “You know what I mean?” he asked, slapping his hand against the counter. “No Hank I don`t know what you mean, nor do I care, also I was not listening.” I said. “That`s because you had your phone in your face! You know a large chunk of kids care more about their phone than their job!” I put my hand up out of annoyance and let out a “ok” but Hank cut me off before I could continue. “You should be more like me, put your phone down live in the moment! Your phone can make you worried about the future while forgetting the past and present! They call that anticipatory anxiety!” he said, raising his arms. “Where exactly did not worrying about the future get you Hank? What are you doing now in your, like, forties?” I said, staring at Hank. For most people that would have been enough. Not Hank though. Hank continued on like I had not said anything. “You know, when I was a kid I had this friend. Who was really into horror, I mean good horror! Not the shit you kids eat up nowadays.” he said chuckling. “I have to go to the bathroom.” I said before hopping over the counter and walking to the back of the store. I was lying of course but l was not in the mood for Hank. As I walked past the half stocked shelves Hank called out “Break a leg!” before he bursted out laughing. The bathroom was just to the right of the back room with the computer and was really small. When I returned Hank was sweeping the floor in front of the door talking about Germany or something. As I manned the counter I heard it for the first time that night. A thump. It was subtle, coming from the back wall. It sounded like someone was outside throwing a stick at the back wall and I could barely hear it over Hank's voice and at first I did not fully register it. It did not come again for another hour. Hank had paused at one point probably waiting for me to answer a question when I heard it again. The second time Hank heard it too. “Is someone outside throwing a stick at the wall?” I asked after a few seconds. “Sure sounds like it. Going to take a shot in the dark and say that`s one of your friends" Hank said accusingly. “Excuse me?” I asked genuinely offended. “I mean you clearly do not like this job so-” I cut him off “So I got one of my friends to throw a stick at the building on my shift? F-Fuck off!” I let that last part slip out but at this point I didn’t care. Hank went silent and looked offended. After a few seconds he went back to sweeping. It was at this point I realized I was only around 2 hours into my shift and the thumping was getting more persistent and louder. “ Hank can you got see what the fuck that is?” I said pulling the baseball bat that was underneath the register out. I placed the baseball base on the counter. Hank wordlessly took it, turned on this phone’s flashlight and walked out the front door and walked to the back. I was exhausted and at this point just wanted to go home. I thought about packing up and leaving while Hank was outside. A few seconds later I hear multiple thoughts in quick succession like a body was being slammed against the back wall, like Hank was fighting someone. Then it went quiet. “Oh shit” I said out loud. Had Hank been attacked by a crackhead or animal. But a few seconds later I saw Hank making his way back to the front through the front windows. I couldn't see any visible wounds and he was walking fine. “Hank….you good?” I asked as Hank entered the store. “Yeah…” Hank said like he was trailing off. “Fine….it was just a squirrel.” he said and walked to a shelf with cereal. “A squirrel?” I asked. Hank mumbled something then picked up some off brand Fruit Loops, opened it, and started eating. I didn’t say anything. It was out of character for him to say anything after being yelled at and there was no way the thumping was a squirrel. “Hank…what the fuck are you doing?” I asked. “Lunch.” Hank said before robotically chuckling. I didn't know how to respond. As I continued to look at Hank I realized something. “Hank? Where is the baseball bat?” I asked nervously. He grunted “outside,” he said. I watched Hank eat the whole box and when he was done he just stood there for a few seconds before he walked over to where he had placed the broom and started sweeping again. Eventually at one point he stopped, put his thumb in his mouth and started chewing on it lightly, then he sucked on it, and then he bit down on it hard. He drew blood and it dripped down on the floor and as if nothing had happened he went back to sweeping. A few seconds later he put his pointer in his mouth and did the same thing. He did this to every finger on his right hand leaving little bloody stumps. After which he just stood there for a few seconds before he returned to sweeping. I don’t know why I didn’t leave at that point. I guess watching Hank like this was like looking at the aftermath of a car crash as a kid. It was just so fascinating. As Hank swept blood dripped onto the floor and Hank would sweep the blood as if trying to clean it up. “Uh…Hank why don 't you patch yourself up?” I suggested. Hank didn’t answer. “Uh Hank?” I said. Still no answer. I wasn’t thinking straight and my mind at that moment thought the only rational option was approaching Hank. I began to make my way from behind the counter and as soon as I did Hank snapped. “HEY! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!?” He yelled at the top of his lungs. He sounded like someone who had just walked into their kid doing drugs, Pure horror and confusion. It made me freeze in place out of shock and fear. “STAY BACK THERE YOU FUCK!” Hank yelled at me. I just looked at him and he looked right back. Then still making eye contact he started scratching both his cheeks with his good hand. Softly at first then more aggressively and then he started bleeding. His cheeks were torn to shreds by the time he stopped. Then he just stared at me. There was a few minutes of silence, of us staring at each other until Hank said. “I need to use the bathroom.” and walk to the back of the store with the computer before coming back out with something in his good hand and going into the bathroom. After a few more minutes of silence I decided it was time to make a break for it. My car keys were in my jacket in the computer room, so I slowly made my way to the back. As I passed the bathroom I could hear what sounded like Hank grunting. I didn’t want to know what he was doing. Finally I grabbed my jacket and looked inside the right side pocket where I put my keys just to make sure they were still there and when I saw they were I put my jacket on and I began to make my way to the front. Just as I passed the bathroom again Hank bursted out of the bathroom. His arms were covered in blood and what looked like shit and the stumps looked like they had been cut off or mutilated further. He looked at me and that is when I saw what he took from the back. A box cutter. “I’AM GOING TO RIP OUT YOUR ADAM'S APPLE WITH MY BARE HANDS!” Hank yelled. I quickly rushed into the back room and slammed the door. I heard Hank slamming what sounded like his whole body against the door shaking it with every slam. Quickly I moved to press the desk the computer was on to the door moving the chair out of the way as I did so. As I pull the small metal desk against the door. Hank’s pounding against the door had gotten more and more persistent and it looked like the door was about to come off the hinges. Knowing my defenses were not going to hold, I looked around the room desperately looking for a way out when I saw the vent grate that Hank had mentioned earlier. I looked from a moment looking for something to bash the thing loose knowing I was not strong enough to knock it loose myself and spotted a wooden mop. I grabbed it, my hands were shaking as I picked it up. I could hear the table moving and Hank grunting at this point so I knew every second counted. I pulled the computer chair under the vent grate and began slamming the mop handle against the vent grate again and again until finally It broke loose. I scrambled to get on the chair. As I did so I heard the slamming stop and Hank scream. Assuming he had broken through I squeezed myself through the new opening and landed on the ground with a hard thud. When I regained my bearings I stood up and ran to my car with tears in my eyes. Right when I got into my car I looked back and saw that Hank had not reached the front doors yet and not wanting to waste any time started my car and sped off. I drove for what felt like hours but most have been only minutes and it was only until I saw lights coming from other buildings did I slow down. I pulled into the parking lot for a restaurant and broke down. My hands were shaking and I was replaying the events of the night in my head over and over trying to make sense of everything. When I finally got a hold of myself I called the cops and told them I was attacked by my coworker. After that the rest of the night is a blur. I remember a cop and my dad showing up at the restaurant parking lot probably to ask me questions and see if I was okay. I quit the next day and a few days later the cops showed up and took me in for questioning. I told them everything and was let go after a few hours. I don’t know what happened to Hank nor do I want to. Recently this memory entered my brain again and I did some research and learned Hank attacked one of the officers who arrived at the scene. The gas station is closed now and I have a job in my degree field now and of course I do day shifts only.