Fangs for the Memories

Graveyard Shift

Midnight at the local gas station. A worker trying not to fall asleep, checks their phone over and over again in an attempt to stay awake. The battery is quickly draining. No one comes around at this time of night. There's nothing to do but wait and browse various web forums. The internet signal is shitty and that's worse than having no internet at all.

A guy walks in. He has glasses on and a motorcycle jacket. Heads straight for the counter and picks up a bag of chips. Holds it out to be scanned. The cashier scans the product. Smiles.  Have a good evening, sir.

Thank you.

He leaves. Bell chimes. 

They are alone again underneath the florescent lights that flicker. Check their phone once more. No signal. This job sucks. 

An hour passes, shift is over. Picks up belongings. Clocks out. Time to go home.

Almost there. 

And then and then and then and then

And then a hand reaches out from a dark alleyway. Don't scream, or else. Knife at throat. It'll hurt less if you stay still. Just a bite, a little nibble. 

Pain.

Shit, you're taking too much! 

She's not gonna live, we gotta run!

What do we do with the body? 

Fuck it, I don't know!

They pick you up.

Leave your body in a nearby dumpster to die.

But you don't die.

You wake up.