PART 1

I never thought it would be real. I had no choice. God has, indeed, abandoned us all.

. . .

Finding a job these days is not easy. Wanting to get yourself out of a rat and cockroach-infested apartment and renting a decently comfortable haven is the only motivation that keeps me awake late at night applying for a decent job. 

Two years ago, my parents died from a freak accident. I didn’t want to burden my relatives with financial support, so I tried looking for a decent job. I guess any motivated person will find risks meaningless just to get their desired goal.

Fortunately, I got enough charisma to bring myself some income that could stave off my hunger for a few weeks. But, of course, that’s not enough— that’s barely enough. I only had a month left before I got my first overdue bill, so I started applying for a cashier position at a gas station in our neighboring small town. Albeit next to us, I didn't urge to go in here. Frankly, I don’t even know the reason for this. I don’t want to call it eerie, but that is the most accurate word to describe what I feel whenever I pass through the said town in my rundown Honda Civic. It’s not scary in the sense that it gives me chills, but it’s eerie enough to make me uncomfortable.

When entering the town, you will notice that the houses are all on the left side. The only standing building on the right side is a gas station. It is surrounded by nothing but barren land, like a cactus in the middle of a desert road. Personally, what’s more strange, is this stretches up to the boundary. Like literally, no other structure besides some old road signs stands on the right side of the road. It certainly raised my interest when I was a kid, but I just haven’t had enough curiosity to delve deeper. Make no mistake about it; although creepy, the view of the mountain ranges is refreshing after a long day of a job hunt.

The gas station is decent due to its renovations every year, and I can't deny its imperfections. The ground has some minor cracks that have been noticeably compromised. The roof has some visible rust, and the tilted banner attached in the middle displays the station’s name. Some of the lights illuminating it has been non-functional for a long time, but the owner couldn’t care less.

Entering the store is quite different. Instead of cold, airconditioned air, the warm breeze from the desert-like background greets you. The store walls are uneven, an obvious sign of low-budget, if not incompetent, decisions. Every cobweb in the corners of the store is very thin and not noticeable; I commend this cleanliness on this one. There’s a metal shelf in the right part of the store where they put every used magazine since 2007; they haven't even ordered a new batch for sale. The cashier area is on the front-left, while the toilet and storage room are in the back-left corridor. The manager’s room is at the far center of the store.

What intrigues me the most is the unusual routine that the old man always cleans every morning. It’s some sort of black liquid that I see getting mopped whenever I pass through the station every 7 AM. I think it’s some kind of oil, but two buckets of those are too much to lose every goddamn day. It’s a weird thing to see since I can’t imagine some gasoline business losing so much every day without going bankrupt in the next three months.

But let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I saw their posters regarding hiring a new employee, specifically a cashier, and they didn’t require much except for one thing: the applicant must know how to follow instructions. Weird, I know, since being a cashier generally involves a lot of patience with impatient customers, disregarding the delinquents that wreak havoc on the convenience stores. Well, I guess this requirement makes sense unless you want to get eighty-sixed for the first week of work. The customer is always right, they say.

7:41 PM.

A family of three hurriedly returns to their car as I enter the vicinity. I got confused when I saw their seemingly terrified faces, as if the owner is a tyrant that demands tips for the store’s services.  

I sit uncomfortably in an old, visibly preserved office chair. I placed my bag on the floor while inspecting the room. The smell of the manager’s room is primarily due to basil, with a hint of dust. I am surprised to see its organized records and files in a large, wooden drawer for a long-standing establishment. 

The interview was quick. I still gave some credentials to make sure they saw me as a qualified employee. Roger, the gas station manager, and owner, told me he didn't need anything from it; he just wanted to hire a fellow who could follow instructions. Bollocks, I thought to myself, because whenever I pass this gas station on my way to job interviews, I always see him alone, managing and entertaining the customers. I can also infer that he does this throughout the day because he is still in charge of the station every time I go back home. Maybe I am just pretentious, but I needed the damn job. I’ve never been overdue on my bills, but the constant anxiety and pressure of such monthly notices always motivate me to keep looking for a “stable” job. Yep, I definitely lied at the start.

As I looked around the room, I noticed several portraitures hanging on the right wall; I suppose the people came before the old man. I’m guessing some of these were his relatives. Other decorations include a vintage typewriter, an orchid vase at the manager’s desk, and an abstract painting hanging on the left wall.

"You have to get enough sleep during the day, got it?" Rog reminded me for the fifth time while opening his drawer. I noticed a large scar surrounding his ear. I’m guessing he was a war veteran or something. 

"Yes, sir, and my shift starts at 8," I replied with slight annoyance, but he seemed not to notice. 

"Brilliant!” exclaimed the old man, which made me cringe slightly. “Look, son, I am sorry for being repetitive but, I have to make sure you follow every instruction that I say," he pulled two pieces of paper and handed it over to me, "and with every instruction these papers say, you hear me?"

I took the papers and sighed. I can’t deduce if it was written ages ago, but this sure feels ancient. I can feel the thick layer of dust rubbing against the tips of my fingers, but I’m sure I’m overreacting. 

"Pardon my writing, son. Is it readable enough for you, eh?" I guess he knew what that sigh was.

"Y-yes, sir.” I squinted just to make sure I was reading it right. The first page reads GAS STATION RULES as its clear title and has a subheading stating: The following rules must be strictly followed. Non-compliance can lead to severe consequences.

"You brought your watch?" 

I wasn’t able to read the following sentences.

"Yes, sir." 

"Can it light?" his voice grew serious. Is the old man allergic to digital wristwatches?

"N-no, sir, as per your request." 

He immediately smiled. "Brilliant!" What does my watch have to do with this job? I am starting to get weirded out. He wants me to have an analog watch attached to me at all times. Well, sure, I don't mind, for I also look handsome when wearing one, but to be this specific is one certain creepy if not terrifying aspect.

"You see, I'm getting too old to manage this business all by myself.” he points his almost white as That's why I hired you here to take care of the night shift, yes? Your old man needs to have a regular sleep schedule too!" He chuckled after drinking his medicine. His neck has this claw-like scar that I couldn’t just be curious about.

“That’s a pretty scary scar, sir.” As I awkwardly point to the old man’s neck.

“Oh, this?” he then chuckled, “Yer old man’s got some story to tell you then… but I believe I’ll just do the telling tomorrow, eh?”

“Yes, sir!” I instantaneously replied. While being genuinely interested concerning his past, my eagerness could hold.

“Do you, by any chance, believe in God?” his tone began to sound serious.

I am an atheist, so I don’t believe in God or many gods and deities. Ever since I was a child, the idea of a cosmic entity has been utter rubbish and foolery for me. But, of course, I don’t necessarily despise or disrespect god-believers, but I don’t respect their tenets.

I answered him in a calm tone. 

“No, sir.”

He immediately raised his brows. “Holy hell, then, ye better believe now, son. That sky bastard has abandoned us all!” he coughed as he exclaimed the last damning word. Bloody hell, this old man needs a chill pill or something!

“What do you mean, sir?” I tried to approach him concerning during this timeYou for the plus points. He sounded like he’s paranoid at this point, but I think this is common to old people.

“Listen, son…” as he puts his jacket on, “Demons. Humanity has failed God.”

“I’m sorry, but where did you get all of these?” I raised my left eyebrow due to confusion and possibly, scorn.

“I wasn’t the first owner of this store.” Replied the old man while looking for his cap. “I was also warned, but yer old man paid no heed... and has suffered consequences.”

It slightly freaked me out, but I still maintained my composure.

“What exact consequences?”

There was a long pause. The eerie air entered my nostrils and gave me chills.

“Will you still stay here if I told you?”

It struck me some chills. The old man’s telling the truth? Or he’s just playing?

“Of course, sir!” I needed this damn job in the first place; I can’t just back out just because of some religious propaganda.

He heaved a sigh. “I just want you to follow the rules, son, ye hear me? I promise I’ll tell you everything tomorrow, ‘kay?”

Disappointed, I just nodded. “Yes, sir.” The old man ultimately found his beret cap.

"Don't worry, son, only a coupla few pull up during the night for fuel. I'm sure you'll do good." I nodded happily. It means I can still binge on my phone at work! I'm getting paid for doing almost nothing!

This happy thought vanished abruptly when the old man walked towards me with a stern face. The atmosphere in the room began to change in my perspective. The scars in his neck amplified this frightful ambiance. Like, I just applied for work here; I don’t even know this old man!

"Drake… I trust you, son." His voice was cold as he tapped on my shoulder. My spine chilled for a brief moment. It's as if something dreadful is about to happen if I break a single rule like my life depends on these rules. It’s just like those movies where a character gets warned by some shaman but doesn’t give any heed and eventually gets brutally killed by the killer.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for your trust!” I immediately grabbed my backpack and hastily followed him outside the manager’s office. 

“Good! Now, if you’ll excuse me, yer old man’s got some rest to enjoy!”

“Of course, sir, take your time.” for my sweet spot in the employee of the month list.

"You still have 45 minutes before your shift. You must have had read them before it started. I would pay you to triple your pay if they troubled you."

Wait, what? What will start? They? Trouble? They? It took me a few moments to process these words. This old man’s gotta be speaking in riddles. First, the scars, then the ominous statements, then this! Who or what will trouble me? Is this gas stop affiliated with some biker gang or, worse, drug syndicates? Hell, I must be paid triple for my salary if that’s the case then! 

He was already outside the store and was entering his car when I regained my senses. 

"But, sir, what do you m-"

"Have a good night, son!" He shouted through his open window as he turned left and sped away to the dimly lit streets,

"Old dog," I whispered to myself. Does he have to scare the brakes out of me on my first day? I wiped the cold sweat on my forehead. Damn, if that were true, it would be terrifying. I went to the counter and heaved a long sigh.

I looked again at the papers I was unconsciously still holding. I put my bag under my table. The cold wind starts to carry skin and sway the bells rather violently. There are still cars passing by that do not require but do not require the station. Splendid, I thought to myself, because this means more time on my phone!

It’s already 8:15 PM. I began to read its contents. I’ll be filling in some of the words because I can’t read them...

- TO BE CONTINUED -

Hey there! If you're reading this, it would mean you have read my story up to its end or just, you know, randomly scrolled through the bottom out of boredom. Either way, I thank you for checking out my space! That's already motivated me to keep writing and grinding on this platform. :)

It is my first post (disregarding the introduction), and I hope you enjoyed it! You can always leave comments and suggestions; I will do my best to respond to all of them! I might even consider your recommendations for my future stories/articles. :)

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