Pit-Stop

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

A nighttime stop. A chance to refuel. A time to Suffer perhaps?

Lonely drive. A drive to escape the melancholy of the same dreary setting, and set upon to take in the stars, and the mid-night air. A moment to breath, and relax. Wouldn't you do the same? Of course you would in his shoes. You shouldn't even try to deny what you so obviously understand. We would all take a moment to escape the nagging girl, crying child, the child support bill from your other spawn, and wrapping it all up with your cat allergy, and your new womans fefusal to get rid of Fluff.

Yeah, you would do it. And he does. With the tire of his old V 52  truck creating a crackling sound against the gravel of the country road it is actually a sound that soothes him, and eases his mind. One of those familiar sounds like the ones you may need to help you sleep at night. If it weren't for that sound here or there then he'd go insane from the little spectacle known as reality. He lights up his last smoke, and glides along in the night with a numb sensation of him repressing all of his current depressing thoughts.

Before he knew it, his huffing and puffing was resulting in the lack of smoking tobbacco, and he found himself needing more of that addictive property. He remembered passing an old gas station nearby that always seemed as though it were still open. He makes an unfamiliar turn down a road he has seldom been in the hunt for more smokes, and possibly a bit of gas. As he arrived at the old, worn gas station he saw there were no lights on but he slowed the truck regardless.

His slow stop led to the crackling of gravel to get higher, and higher pitched as he stopped. The lights lit his path in front of him as an old, and dingy gas station had emerged from the darkness. You could hear the hooting of owls on the crisp night-time air. It lay surrounded by trees with droopy leaves, and vegetation growing along the sides such as poison sumac, and what not. He was a sturdy, and strong man so It wasn't an area that'd frighten a man like him. So he decided to set foot inside. He walked on in, and the place was seemingly abandoned. He swiped his finger across the counter as dust mirrored his finger print almost verbatim. 

Since his eyes hadn't yet fully adjusted to the dark he slammed his foot into a dusty cardboard box as dust bunnies flew into the air becoming dust "Birds" instead as they had flown right into his lungs causing him to choke more than cancer might have. Wafting his hands through the air frantically He spotted a slid open drawer behind the counter, and the outlines of colors red, and white indicating possible smokage. He climbs over the counter getting a camouflage of grey dust embedded in his jeans after doing so.

It was still dark but he knew how to spot cigs. He grabbed the box with the word Morris in print on it only to open it up, and find nothing. He sat crouched as he tossed the box and then spots a nice mahogany box that was behind the other box. He opens this box only to see the freshest of Cubans not tainted by the test of time. He picked it out from the box, and proceeded to slide the cigar across his nose, and took in a long, strong lunged sniff. He found it to be absolutely glorious.

He flipped open his lighter as the illumination allowed him to seemingly spot a moving silhouette in the garage passed the doorway behind the counter. He could no longer see the silhouette as he rubbed his eyes, and looked again. Nothing but an empty garage with an old car as well as a few junk newspapers lying about. He shrugged it off, then had a quick jitter run down his spine. The same jitter you have from spotting a furry spider from the corner of your eye. Ignoring possibilities he lights the cigar, which proceeded to calm his nerves as he proceeds outside, and walks back to his truck.

He dusted off the gasoline pump, and went to pump some gas, and see if there was any left. It was bone dry so he put the pump back. He wasn't near empty but he was running a bit low. He looked over at the garage of the station that was closed from the outside with the idea of siphoning gas from that car he'd seen. He walked back into the dusty building, and walked his way till he was standing right in the doorway between the garage, and the counter of that old gas station. he started rubbing the cobwebbed wall as he snagged a piece of paper.

He picked up the torn paper that read "Laqueum". He did not understand what it meant but it was Latin for the word trap. Before he knew it a black cloak sprang forth screeching as it grabbed him by the neck choking him. He lay on the ground struggling from the black cloaked person as in his struggle the piece of paper caught an updraft forcing the attacker to temporarily receed as the man stood up as fast as he could tripping over himself on the way out of the station, and to his truck as he heard pouncing not too far behind him. That paper was a Talisman, and was now destroyed leaving room for chaos.

He turned his key as quickly as possible to not only escape but also to reveal the person attacking him. The moment the lights from his truck came on the cloak was floating mach speed toward him as it reached forward and its arms passed right through the windshield, and pulled him right back through as he began kicking, and screaming while the cigar in his mouth didn't pass through with him, and fell on the seat of his truck. He clawed the ground as he was pulled away from his truck, and into the stations garage, passing right through the garage door.

In the morning the truck still sat there as the birds chirpped, and bunnies hopped by. In the truck was the cigar still lit, and the gas pumped lodged back into the tank.


Submitted: November 06, 2014

© Copyright 2021 Joshua Lundquest. All rights reserved.

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Comments

Ben A Vanguarde

Creepy. Nicely descriptive. How about changing from telling us what Laqueum means to having it jostle out of his middle school memory? You have a talent for storytelling. I hope you continue to develop it.

Thu, November 6th, 2014 1:53pm

Author
Reply

Thank you very much! And I will definitely consider it, cause I can't get better if I can't take criticism

Thu, November 6th, 2014 2:46pm

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