Just Another Day
The parking lot was empty.
Steve ignored the sharp headache that had suddenly come over him and the peculiar feeling that he had done this before.
As hard as he tried to keep his eyes on the video store’s entrance and not on the multiple yellow signs in the windows, he found himself reading the bright red text, which looked much happier than it had any right to be.
“CLEARANCE SALE! EVERYTHING MUST GO! 95% OFF!”
That disturbing feeling of sadness spiced with dread flowed through him with a vengeance. He had only been working here for a couple of years now, but it had easily been the best job he ever had.
Just being able to watch as many movies as he’d like and recommend which ones he liked to customers was worth more than the measly salary he made per year.
But his passion was no match for the changing times. Fewer and fewer customers were coming into the shop, and the few that did kept going on and on about the new service that could send DVDs through the mail instantly.
Even his coworkers seemed to have noticed how slow business was. Many of them had already started looking for employment elsewhere, and others did their tasks much more slowly than before. Steve often tried to brighten the conversations with talk about the new movies coming out, but they would always go back to woes about changing times and what they could do about this sudden change.
The distant screech of a bird far off in the distance snapped him back to his surroundings. By now, fog had seemingly surrounded the store. Although they were situated at the edge of town, Steve could often still see the mountains in the distance and the clock tower in the town square. But now, he couldn’t see anything beyond the parking lot.
“Well, if nothing else, this might encourage more people to come out and rent some horror movies,” Steve said to himself as he pushed through the front entrance.
His manager wasn’t standing behind the front counter. In fact, Steve couldn’t see him anywhere, nor could he see much of anything. Not a single fluorescent or neon bulb was lit. Even the nearby popcorn machine, which Zack had always protested be kept on to attract business, was unlit and empty.
“Zack?” Steve called out, noticing with quiet unease how his voice echoed throughout the store. “You here?”
Zack, the owner of the establishment, lived upstairs in the adjacent apartment and always unlocked the store a half hour before his shift started at 8 a.m. Steve never saw his car out front. In fact, the young man wasn’t sure if his manager even owned a car; it never seemed to come up in conversation.
A curious shuffling echoed throughout the shop. Steve could pinpoint the sound to be coming from just behind the ratty pink curtain that separated the store from the back rooms.
“I’ll be there soon,” Zack called out in a voice that lacked any emotion. “Why don’t you come to the break room first?”
Steve laughed even though he didn’t consider any of this amusing. “Don’t you want me to tidy up the front counter and check the tills? You know what you used to say: A clean shop means a wealthy shop!”
Silence followed. Steve quickly walked behind the counter. After flipping on every light in the store, he allowed his thumb to press the large, faded red button that popped the tills out. Where there should have been bills and coins, there was nothing but a few bits of paper tucked into the corners.
“Hey, boss! Where’s all the money? Don’t tell me you finally bought a car?”
He hoped his attempt at humor would cause his manager to come out to the front. Instead, a quiet sort of laughter was heard just behind the curtain, though Steve could see no one’s feet on the ground. Trying to distract himself, Steve fetched a broom and started sweeping behind the till.
He almost expected a customer to walk in and begin shopping. Despite how slow business had been, there was almost always at least one traveler stopping in to take a look around.
Sometimes they would question how a video store could survive in the twenty-first century. Steve would always attempt his best smile and reply that they’d always try to succeed.
A loud clatter erupted through the store. Steve practically jumped over the tills and ran down the aisles. Several DVDs lay scattered on the floor as if a hurricane had erupted in the store. As Steve bent down to pick up the cases, he thought he heard rapid footsteps racing down the aisle. He wanted to turn his head and see if one of his coworkers was trying to scare him, but something within caused him to stay frozen in place.
By now the footsteps had stopped and the eerie humming of the bulbs resumed. Steve quickly placed the DVDs back on the shelf and ran toward the other end of the aisle. Just as he went around the wooden stand, he glanced behind him.
He felt a little relieved when he recognized the woman standing at the end of the aisle. He felt less relieved when his eyes locked onto her dull, lifeless ones.
Sarah’s arms were flat at her sides. Her lips were curled downward as if she were frowning, yet her face was as blank as a freshly cleaned slate. Her blue overalls were heavily faded as if the denim had been in the sun too long. Her long, brown hair caressed her pale skin as if she had just come out of the rain.
Steve looked out the windows to see if the weather had suddenly changed, but the sky remained cloudy. The fog, though, seemed to have come closer. By now, the parking lot was barely visible through the multiple windows.
“Hey, Sarah,” Steve said with a slight smile, “did you see Zack in the back room?”
“Where is everyone?” Sarah asked in a flat, somber tone.
“I… don’t know, actually,” Steve replied as he looked down at his watch. While the second hand ticked along freely, the hour and minute hands seemed to have been frozen at 7 a.m.
“They should’ve been here by now. I think this damn thing’s broken, though, because I just started my shift and—”
“I know where they are,” Sarah replied, her eyes widening more than humanly possible and her lips stretching from ear to ear. Suddenly, Steve wished he was anywhere but in this aisle. “They’re waiting for you in the break room. You should go see them.”
Steve felt his stomach begin to twist as he pulled out his flip phone and began to dial Zack’s number.
“Y-Yeah, I’m sure they are. But maybe I should just get Zack to—”
The aisle was empty. With his phone still in hand, Steve ran up and down every aisle twice, but Sarah was nowhere to be found.
Steve fought back the urge to shudder as he ran behind the front counter and dialed Zack’s number. He honestly had no idea if his manager would be able to explain how a coworker could just vanish into thin air. But at that moment, he just wanted to talk to somebody to prevent his nerves from snapping due to stress.
The bright, cheery ringtone was somewhat muffled by the drywall, but Steve could tell it was coming from somewhere in the back, possibly in the break room.
By now, Steve didn’t hesitate to let the shivers rock his body as a sense of dread made itself at home in his stomach. He dialed 911, hoping that the police would at least accompany him to the break room instead of him going in there alone.
The shrill beeping caused him to rip the phone away from his ear. He glanced down at the flip phone’s display.
“NO SIGNAL”
Steve felt his mouth drop open as he scrolled through each of his contacts and tried to dial each and every one of them. None of them went through. It was only when he punched in Zack’s number again that it went through. The muffled cheery jingle rattled through the walls like a siren’s song to a sailor.
Steve shifted his gaze to the window. By now, the fog seemed to have made the outside world disappear. He couldn’t even see the adjacent road anymore. He reached into his pocket and jangled his keys as his feet carried him toward the door.
“Hey, Zack, the fog is getting worse out there. Maybe I should get home now before it gets worse. I don’t think anyone’s gonna come out here—”
The door refused to open. Steve repeatedly tried to kick it in, the door that only minutes before had opened as easily as a worn-out screen door.
“Shit!” Steve cursed as he rubbed his arm. “I don’t have any keys! My only hope is…”
He looked back toward the pink curtain that separated where the customers could roam from where the employees could retreat. Now it was pulled all the way to the left. The door to the break room stood at the far end like an angel of death waiting for its freshest victim. Steve knew that there was only one other door in the hallway.
He slowly inched his way forward toward the hallway. The one lone light bulb that illuminated the narrow passage was off. A curious glow seemed to emit from the bottom of the break room door.
Steve reached the edge of the hallway as he felt for the light switch. The momentary bit of joy that came from finding it quickly turned into panic as he flicked the switch, and the light remained off.
He slid along the wall until he felt the cool wooden door press against his back. He smiled to himself, knowing he had just reached the door that separated the store from Zack’s living quarters. He slowly felt for the doorknob and tried to turn it.
When the doorknob turned with ease, Steve ripped open the door and prepared to run up the stairs as if he were about to run a marathon.
A wall of bricks stared back at him. Steve felt his foot crash into the solid wall before he felt along the wall, wondering if it were an illusion. He hadn’t been in Zack’s quarters often. Usually, it was always to get some extra cash from upstairs or return DVDs after his manager wanted to check out the newest releases himself.
Something crashed into the break room door from the other side. Steve nearly jumped to the ceiling as he stared down the door as if it were a wild animal.
“Steve,” Zack called out from behind, “can you come in here, please? We have some urgent things to discuss.”
Steve ran his tongue over his chapped lips as his right hand came dangerously close to turning the knob. He gripped the cool metal knob for only a fraction of a second before he recoiled back.
“Can you open the door, boss? I just…want to make sure it’s you.”
A heavy silence followed. Steve couldn’t even hear the hypnotic drone of the neon bulbs anymore.
The door swung open slowly. Steve wasn’t sure if he wanted to stay or flee. But when he caught his manager’s rugged, stubbly face poke out through the crack, he chose the former. Zack scrunched up his brows and eyed him from head to toe.
“You just going to stand there all day, or are you coming in here?” Zack asked, sounding more annoyed than Steve could ever remember him being.
“Is this about my employment?” Steve asked.
Zack’s dark, wrinkled eyes looked up to the ceiling before they met the younger man’s eyes with a steely glaze.
“Yeah… that’s right. I don’t think you’re gonna like it, though. But I don’t make the decisions anymore.”
Steve hung his head and allowed himself to open the door. He walked into the room, not noticing at the time how fast his boss had disappeared inside. He gazed up.
The only light source in the darkened room was a small TV in the corner. A wall of static was all that could be seen on the screen. Zack sat in front of the TV like a young child watching Saturday morning cartoons.
Steve looked around. His eyes made out the bulky fridge in the corner, the yellow-stained cupboards and counters next to it, and the worn-out red couch that his boss was currently sitting on. He felt along the wall and found the light switch.
“Don’t bother,” Zack replied as he turned his attention away from the static and looked at his employee. The white glow from the TV made his skin appear ghostly white.
Steve tried the switch anyway, and to his growing dread, the lights didn’t come on.
“Alright, enough of this bullshit!” Steve cried as he marched over to the couch and stood directly in front of his boss. A curious sense of pride came over him as he realized how the tables had turned; now, he was the one staring Zack down.
Zack let out a humorless chuckle as he leaned against the couch.
“Now come on, Steve. We’ve been doing this little charade for twenty years now. Thought you’d maybe catch on by now.”
The room wasn’t spinning, but to Steve, it felt like it was.
“Tw—Tw—Twenty years?! What the hell are you talking about? It’s 2004, man! We went and saw Spider-Man 2last week! Remember?”
“Yeah, but that was before the incident,” Zack added with a cheeky grin. It was as if he were a kid who knew exactly which other kid pushed him down the stairs.
“The i—incident?” Steve muttered, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but in this very room.
“Why don’t we watch a little movie together, Steve?” Zack asked with a cheery smile as he produced a DVD, seemingly out of thin air.
The DVD player popped out its tray. Zack reached out his arm, which was far longer than humanly possible. Once the tray retreated into the DVD player, the screen suddenly shifted to the very room they were standing in.
Steve could see himself standing in front of the TV. At first, he couldn’t see what the object in his hand looked like. Then his on-screen counterpart placed it on the table, and Steve could see it was a large bong that his co-worker Jeff had given him last Christmas.
“Okay!” Steve called out on-screen as he waved his hands in front of him. “Who’s our next contestant?”
He could only see the back of his coworkers’ heads. They were seated beside each other, and he could easily make out Jeff, Sarah, Pete, Xander, and Patricia. Their heads were rolled to one side, and for a moment, Steve was worried they were dead. But he could see the most subtle of head nods on the screen.
“Well, since we have no volunteers, I therefore volunteer myself to take the next hit!”
Steve could see Jeff and Patricia slowly clapping their hands before their heads rolled to the other side.
“Now, why did you have to do that?” Steve heard Zack ask from beside him, although Steve never took his eyes off the screen. “You know that’s illegal, right?”
“I—I don’t know,” Steve replied as he ran a hand over his mouth. “Business was slow; we all kinda thought video stores and physical media were at death’s door. I thought this would…maybe boost employee morale.”
A slight pause followed. For some reason, Steve didn’t want to look his boss in the eyes.
“I—I hope I don’t get fired for this,” Steve said. “I was just trying to make everyone feel better.”
“Oh, I think you have more troubling things to worry about than that,” Zack replied.
Before Steve could pry about the issue further, a sudden whooshing sound echoed through the TV. He turned his attention to the screen just in time to see his onscreen counterpart light the bong with a propane torch lighter. Steve remembered Zack using the exact same one last summer during the company summer barbecue.
After inhaling a large amount of smoke and trying to blow out some smoke rings, Steve turned back to his group of friends before he slowly sat on the floor and passed out. The propane torch fell out of his hands and rolled onto the carpet.
At first, Steve could only see a tiny flame erupt on the screen. Two minutes later, he could see the fire overcome the entire carpet.
Thick black smoke soon filled the room. Steve almost expected his onscreen counterpart and his onscreen coworkers to arise from their seats and flee for the exit. But they simply sat where they were, except for a few of his coworkers whose bodies slumped onto the floor.
Soon the fire reached the couch, then the nearby wooden table and chairs before the screen before him was just a gigantic blaze.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Steve remembered the full jug of gasoline that Zack had placed under the kitchen sink. His manager was always adamant about keeping a spare gas can just in case a customer or one of his workers needed extra for the ride home.
He prayed from somewhere deep inside that the fire would either miss the gas can or that Zack would rush into the room and extinguish the flames. His prayers ended up being half-answered when he witnessed his manager casually open the break room door. The explosion followed soon after.
Steve stared at the wall of static on the TV as if he were looking for a hidden image.
“It… it was an accident,” Steve cried, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or anyone.”
“Well, now you can make it up to us,” Steve heard his manager reply.
He raised an eyebrow and turned his head to face his manager. He didn’t hesitate to let out a scream.
Zack’s clothes remained intact, but his skin and the chair he was sitting on were charred to a charcoal black. His teeth were locked into a tight grin, with no lips to be seen. His eyes were replaced with empty sockets. A few stray maggots wriggled out of the holes and onto the floor, which Steve now noticed was also a deep black.
He turned away and was greeted by the rest of his coworkers. Each of them had the same burnt appearance and were grinning from ear to ear. Two of them were so burnt Steve couldn’t tell who was who. They scooted over on the blackened couch and patted a skeletal hand on the empty cushion.
Steve tore his eyes away from the ghastly sight and soon realized the entire room was burnt to a crisp. The only light came from the glowing TV, which still ran a never-ending marathon of static on the screen.
He ran toward the wall with his arms outstretched, hoping to have them come into contact with the break room door. A warm wall of plaster greeted him instead. Steve ran his hands along the wall, knowing for sure that the door should’ve been right in front of him.
A shrill chorus of laughter erupted behind him. Steve didn’t dare turn around; instead, he tried to ram his shoulder into the burnt plaster, hoping it would give way.
Several rotting arms wrapped around him as Steve was dragged back toward the couch.
“Isn’t this great?!” a voice that Steve recognized as Pete’s said. “We always talked about being in business forever, and now we are!”
“Just wait until you see what we’re watching next!” Xander said with a disturbing amount of glee. “It’s a real killer!”
Steve thrashed around in the ghouls’ grasp, hoping he could easily break free. But their seemingly thin skeletal arms maintained their grip as if they were a newly purchased vice.
“Please!” Steve cried. “I didn’t mean to do it! Please let me out of here! Somebody! Anybody!”
“Oh, don’t you worry,” Zack said as he threw him onto the couch. “We’ve been doing this little charade for so long; we all know that nobody will hear us.”
“Our little video store may not exist anymore in the real world, but here it will go on forever,” Steve heard Jeff say as he witnessed his charred face peer over him.
“And the best part,” Zack added as he and the rest of his coworkers surrounded him, their grinning skulls coming closer, “you won’t remember a thing.”
A sudden burst of light overwhelmed Steve’s senses.
The parking lot was empty.
Steve ignored the sharp headache that had suddenly come over him and the curious feeling that he had done this before.
About the Author
Carson Fredriksen is a neurodivergent writer from Calgary, Alberta who often enjoys rummaging through his dark, albeit unique imagination, to enhance his everyday life. His debut horror novel ‘Beyond the Deep’ was recently published by Baynam Books Press. His previous short stories have appeared in such online publications as Flash Phantoms, Creepy Podcast, Sometimes Hilarious Horror, CommuterLit, and Howling Wolf Press. He can also be found at: https://www.carsonfredriksen.com/