A low battery reminder interrupted Erik’s game, and he forced it closed with a sigh.
The store was empty, as expected of a Saturday night. Nothing but too-bright fluorescent lights buzzing over a looping 80s mix and the smell of over-cooked hot dogs to keep him company. That and the agonizing regret of switching shifts out of goodwill.
Erik reached for his backpack and sifted through the necessities he packed: homework, energy drinks, leftover pasta—everything but his charger.
“Shit,” He whispered under his breath. What fucking luck.
There were a million things that could’ve gone wrong tonight, but a missing charger for a dying phone was the worst, and he searched again until someone triggered the store bell.
Erik looked up, half-expecting some old guy with a handful of lottery tickets, but instead saw Maisy walking toward him with a peony-pink smile.
His shoulders stiffened. Erik had never seen Maisy in anything other than a messy bun and work shirt, so watching her approach the counter in a studded half-jacket and tight leather pants left him mesmerized. Her hair bounced in loose curls past her breasts, and Erik glanced down at the rhinestone piercing tucked into her navel.
“Hey, Erik.” Her voice broke his trance, and she leaned against the counter. “How’s it going?”
“G-Good.” A nervous and unusually high answer slipped out, and Erik cleared his throat before continuing. “Just trying to make it through another shift, you know?”
Maisy laughed. He wasn’t sure why she did, but Erik forced himself to laugh and wiped his suddenly-sweaty palms on the back of his pants.
Their fake laughter died, and an awkward silence crept in. Neither of them said anything for a moment. Maisy clicked her nails against the countertop, and Erik puffed out some weird tune that followed a rhythm he tapped onto a glass case.
“You…look really nice tonight,” He blurted out too suddenly, startling Maisy with his tone and internally kicking his ass for it.
“Aw, thanks,” She said with a simple smile before looking down at her phone after it pinged. “Oh, and serious thanks for switching shifts with Miller tonight. You’re a lifesaver.”
Reality sank in like a pair of fangs and ripped all his hope apart without mercy. Erik stood there, watching Maisy check her make-up in a small mirror, then forcing out the dreaded question. “Y-You…and Miller?”
As though he were summoned from the depths of Erik’s misery and heartbreak, Miller steadily stepped out of the back room with a fox-cunning grin and a case of beer under his arm.
“Ready to go, babydoll?” Miller found Maisy’s waist and slipped his hand around her hips until his fingers found the sparking stud in her navel.
They kissed then, tongues together, hips pressed, and laughter riding the edge of their wet lips.
Erik stared in disbelief.
Miller was everything he hated in a person—lazy, rude, sarcastic. The kind of man who shouldn’t have authority over any business or its associates, yet somehow, managed to become a manager. Even if he spent a majority of his shifts fucking off while Erik and Maisy—mostly Erik—finished the workload he neglected. The guy was nothing but a manipulative jerk with a great body who conned his way into getting whatever he wanted.
And it worked, which left Erik moping at the start of a long-ass night shift without a charger and a broken heart.
Miller and Maisy broke their saliva-heavy kiss and stood licking each other’s tongues until Erik cleared his throat. They looked over at him with smiles sharing a hidden joke, and Miller sat his beer on the counter.
“Thanks for taking one for the team, Erik,” He said, keeping Maisy tucked under his arm despite her clear discomfort. “Figured a single guy like you wouldn’t have shit to do on a Saturday night, so why not work, right?”
Miller let out a burst of obnoxious, high-induced laughter. He shook Maisy and glanced at her for confirmation that his joke was as funny as he intended it to be.
It wasn’t.
Erik’s lip lifted in an attempted smile. “Yeah…right.”
Fucking jerkoff.
He scanned the case and waited for Miller to fish out his wallet.
“Hey, do you mind if I use your charger tonight?” Erik asked, recalling the two of them, thankfully, had the same phone. “I forgot mine and—”
“Sorry, man, need mine.” Miller dropped a bill onto the counter and snagged the beer.
Erik picked up the five dollars. “Um, Miller? This isn’t enou—”
“Oh, and while it’s slow, take out the trash,” He interrupted, then guided Maisy toward the back room by smacking her ass.
Erik arched a brow. “Weren’t you supposed to be—I mean, you’re heading that way—”
“And make sure that homeless prick isn’t picking through our shit again,” Miller hollered from the back as he and Maisy disappeared in a serenade of laughter and glee.
What. The. Fuck?
It was his only response. A question he pondered while walking out from behind the counter with a lingering cloud of defeat.
With no customers around, Erik headed into the back room, maneuvering down a tight hallway lined with cases of soda, unopened merchandise, and miscellaneous boxes. Everything sat out of place and unorganized since Miller didn’t bother to finish the opening checklist, and Erik exhaled a building breath of irritation.
He paused at the back door, finding two large garbage bags slumped together, both spilling trash and rotted food from a recently broken fridge. The smell was enough to make him gag, and Erik worked past the sour stench of days-old lunchmeat and moldy containers.
“Goddammit, Miller,” He hissed and tied both bags closed before lugging them out the door. The slippery plastic forced his grip to tighten, and he shivered in disgust as grease oozed between his fingers.
The alley was a dark and quiet stretch of wet asphalt leading into darkness penetrated by fluorescent floodlights and red neon. Erik heard the flow and fall of water coming from hidden drains and sirens blaring a few blocks away. Then, he stopped to listen for anything unusual.
Erik knew he couldn’t leave the store unattended for much longer, but the too-empty, too-dark path felt more like a throat that’d swallow him whole. But, he asked himself if Miller—or any other guy Maisy would be into—would stand around scared, and he stopped hesitating.
The dumpsters weren’t far. Erik kept a brisk pace down the alley. He stepped through murky puddles filled with cigarette buds and tracked wet paper past closed back doors of neighboring businesses. Everything closed for the night, though sometimes he’d see servers from the Italian restaurant sneaking in smoke breaks during clean-up.
But not tonight. Now, it was just dark.
Somewhere, he heard a clatter—something metal slamming shut, a door or lid, and he jumped.
One of the slick, food-sweat bags tore open from the bottom, spilling trash across the road and his new shoes.
“Fuck!” Erik stumbled back, nearly tripping over the second bag, but thankfully, spared himself the second dose of sticky, rotting food that started seeping into his socks.
A putrid smell rose into the air, and Erik looked down at his now yellow and brown stained shoes. His head fell back. He felt like screaming or throwing a wild tantrum like an out-of-control toddler. He wanted to kick the garbage around and leave it there for Miller in the morning, and when the douchebag called him for an explanation, Erik would tell him to fuck-off and quit right then.
Instead, he knelt and began gathering the trash into a pile.
Then, a noise caught his attention. A strange gurgle. Something wet being sucked down a drain.
And tapping.
Erik turned and stared into a small darkness pressed between two buildings.
He listened to the repeated sound.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Someone knocking? A loose door? Water dripping onto metal?
Fear turned his stomach into a warzone and made his blood run cold through every organ, every artery, and a shiver crawled up his spine. Erik curled his toes around his damp socks in an urge to walk, but his legs refused to budge.
He glanced up the alley where safety waited under the bluish glow of the storefront before a bang jolted his attention back toward the little darkness, and Erik took a hard, painful breath.
He listened.
Tiny drums thundered inside his temples. Maybe that was what he was hearing?
Something growled, and Erik blinked and swallowed nervously.
It was no more a growl than a slow symphony of back-throat clicks followed by the tender sound of—chewing.
Erik caught a slight trace of movement against the shadows. He stepped closer, entering the shadowy line cast by walls and trying to see past the darkness. Anxiety thrummed through the veins in his neck and created a pulse he felt in his chest. There was no explanation for his actions, just morbid curiosity dragging him forward like a broken puppet.
“H-Hello?” His voice cracked.
Movement.
He paused.
And something grabbed him from behind.
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