Seravian
Androgynous Dragon
As he slid the forklift's forks under the pallet, Jack wondered why on God's green Earth he agreed to work late and organize the storage room. His boss should have been the one to do this shit. There wasn't enough caffeine in the world to keep him going after nearly thirteen hours, and it wasn't like he was getting paid much extra for the overtime.
It was almost ten 'o clock...
With a yawn, he hopped off his lift and walked over to the table on the far side of the area, feeling the need to take a break and stretch his legs. He grabbed the thermos, full off the life juice that was coffee. There wasn't much left in there, but it would be enough to get him through the remainder of what needed to be done. He poured some in his cup and downed it in a few gulps and gave a long, satisfied sigh before pouring another cup. He frowned when he noticed there was barely enough left for a second cup, but drank it down regardless. Every bit helped.
He placed the thermos back on the table, with a mental note to hopefully remember to grab it later, and got back to moving and organizing things. A few more pallets needed moved and stacked, some bins needed put in their proper place, and some paperwork needed to be filled out.
Something near him rattled.
With a jolt, feeling a chill prick the back of his neck, Jack stopped what he was doing and glanced around. For several long moments he sat there listening, to see if he could catch the sound again. Nothing. There didn't appear to be anything at all. Nothing seems to have fallen anywhere either. Running his hand over his face, he chalked it up to exhaustion causing an overactive imagination. Just another hour or two at most. That was all he had to ensure, then he could go home, get some rest, and enjoy his day off.
Jack heard the rattling again. He jumped a little and swore under his breath. This time, he got off his lift and walked over toward the direction it was coming from. Through rows of pallets, and shelves, he rounded the corner and nearly jumped out of his skin when something dark bolted from behind a few slabs of plywood and into one of the dock doors… Sixteen. Hadn't that door been closed previously? Come to think of it, that particular door was always closed, never used. As he thought filtered through his mind, the door closed and locked itself… The fuck?
To add to the strangeness, the trailer door closed and latched itself.
"Fuck me… I need to go home," Jack muttered. He had half a mind to do just that, but something felt wrong. Eventually, his curiosity began getting the better of him.
Swallowing hard, he cautiously made his way toward the bay door. His heart hammering in his chest, and breathing shaky, uneven, he moved as quietly as possible. He hoped this was some sort of prank set up by his coworkers… Billy was exactly the kind of guy who would pull this kind of shit. Just thinking about him got him all worked up, erasing any nerves he had and replacing them with annoyance. That motherfucker.
The rattling started up again as he got closer. Louder and louder. He blinked and furrowed his brow, feeling a headache coming on. The rattling started to become a hollow noise in his skull. It was enough to give him pause and think about what he was doing. He imagined how ridiculous he must look, if it was his coworkers pulling this prank. They must be on the flood laughing their assess off.
He cleared his throat, "Billy! If that's you, so help me..." His voice came out strained. If it was... how did that explain the noises in his head? The feeling of dread in his chest?
Grasping the latch, he threw it up, unlocking the trailer door, and throwing the door open...
..Again, nothing. There was nothing inside the trailer. Nothing but darkness and... He stepped inside, putting one hand on the wall. It felt.. slimy? Something was dripping from the ceiling as well... He grimaced and reached for the light fixture next to the door, shining light into trailer. His blood instantly ran cold, as a loud hissing noise shook him to his core. Staring back at him, was an indescribable black mass with many rows of teeth and innumerable, bloodshot eyes. It seemed to cover... No, not cover. It inhabited the trailer. It was the inside of the trailer.
Jack's stomach twisted and tightened. He let out a blood-curdling shriek and turned on his heels as fast as he could.
He got to his car --an old Ford Taurus-- and peeled out of the parking lot as fast as possible. Face pale, he was riding the entire drive home. He took a long, hot shower and went to bed.
The next day, he put in his two weeks and set up an Indeed profile with the hopes of putting what he saw behind him.
It was almost ten 'o clock...
With a yawn, he hopped off his lift and walked over to the table on the far side of the area, feeling the need to take a break and stretch his legs. He grabbed the thermos, full off the life juice that was coffee. There wasn't much left in there, but it would be enough to get him through the remainder of what needed to be done. He poured some in his cup and downed it in a few gulps and gave a long, satisfied sigh before pouring another cup. He frowned when he noticed there was barely enough left for a second cup, but drank it down regardless. Every bit helped.
He placed the thermos back on the table, with a mental note to hopefully remember to grab it later, and got back to moving and organizing things. A few more pallets needed moved and stacked, some bins needed put in their proper place, and some paperwork needed to be filled out.
Something near him rattled.
With a jolt, feeling a chill prick the back of his neck, Jack stopped what he was doing and glanced around. For several long moments he sat there listening, to see if he could catch the sound again. Nothing. There didn't appear to be anything at all. Nothing seems to have fallen anywhere either. Running his hand over his face, he chalked it up to exhaustion causing an overactive imagination. Just another hour or two at most. That was all he had to ensure, then he could go home, get some rest, and enjoy his day off.
Jack heard the rattling again. He jumped a little and swore under his breath. This time, he got off his lift and walked over toward the direction it was coming from. Through rows of pallets, and shelves, he rounded the corner and nearly jumped out of his skin when something dark bolted from behind a few slabs of plywood and into one of the dock doors… Sixteen. Hadn't that door been closed previously? Come to think of it, that particular door was always closed, never used. As he thought filtered through his mind, the door closed and locked itself… The fuck?
To add to the strangeness, the trailer door closed and latched itself.
"Fuck me… I need to go home," Jack muttered. He had half a mind to do just that, but something felt wrong. Eventually, his curiosity began getting the better of him.
Swallowing hard, he cautiously made his way toward the bay door. His heart hammering in his chest, and breathing shaky, uneven, he moved as quietly as possible. He hoped this was some sort of prank set up by his coworkers… Billy was exactly the kind of guy who would pull this kind of shit. Just thinking about him got him all worked up, erasing any nerves he had and replacing them with annoyance. That motherfucker.
The rattling started up again as he got closer. Louder and louder. He blinked and furrowed his brow, feeling a headache coming on. The rattling started to become a hollow noise in his skull. It was enough to give him pause and think about what he was doing. He imagined how ridiculous he must look, if it was his coworkers pulling this prank. They must be on the flood laughing their assess off.
He cleared his throat, "Billy! If that's you, so help me..." His voice came out strained. If it was... how did that explain the noises in his head? The feeling of dread in his chest?
Grasping the latch, he threw it up, unlocking the trailer door, and throwing the door open...
..Again, nothing. There was nothing inside the trailer. Nothing but darkness and... He stepped inside, putting one hand on the wall. It felt.. slimy? Something was dripping from the ceiling as well... He grimaced and reached for the light fixture next to the door, shining light into trailer. His blood instantly ran cold, as a loud hissing noise shook him to his core. Staring back at him, was an indescribable black mass with many rows of teeth and innumerable, bloodshot eyes. It seemed to cover... No, not cover. It inhabited the trailer. It was the inside of the trailer.
Jack's stomach twisted and tightened. He let out a blood-curdling shriek and turned on his heels as fast as he could.
He got to his car --an old Ford Taurus-- and peeled out of the parking lot as fast as possible. Face pale, he was riding the entire drive home. He took a long, hot shower and went to bed.
The next day, he put in his two weeks and set up an Indeed profile with the hopes of putting what he saw behind him.