Read The Cave Dweller and other Strange Tales :: Chapter 2- I Just Got Back

Matt was on his phone behind the counter in Gas Central Station, watching funny animal videos and waiting for Pete to come back with tacos from their favorite food truck down the street. It was around nine o' clock and foot traffic had slowed down to a crawl. Just the occasional customer coming in for a snack or a quick fill up. There were plenty of thigs he could’ve been doing with his time; mopping the floors, restocking the shelves, or cleaning the restrooms, he just didn’t feel like it.

His stomach growled for what felt like five minutes. He texted Pete to hurry up with the food and to bring back extra hotsauce, to which Pete replied with a witty and clever response in the form of a middle finger emoji.

That idiot probably didn’t bring enough money and is trying to talk the price down.

As he was thinking this, the automatic doors opened, bringing in a man who seemed homeless. The first thing that caught Matt’s eye was the man’s hair. It wasn’t just the fact that his hair was wild and unkempt, it was an unnatural orange color, like a clown wig. He was wearing a dirty black shirt that was tattered near the end. His blue jeans had too many too many rips and tears for them to be intentional.

“Welcome to Gas Station Central. How are you tonight?"

The stranger didn’t acknowledge Matt, he just stood in the doorway staring into space.

‘Nice to meet you too, weirdo,’ thought Matt.

Without saying a word, the man walked through all three aisles picking things up at random. He then made his way towards the drink coolers and grabbed ten bottles of water. He came up to the counter holding the chips, snack cakes, candy, and the water in a pouch he made with his shirt. He just let it all fall onto the counter and stared at Matt without blinking.

“Find everything okay?” ‘You creepy pothead.’

He tried his best to smile,

be polite and check the customer out quickly.

Again, he didn’t say anything, he just stood and stared. Taking a closer look, Matt saw that the man was sweating heavily, which was strange because it was the start of fall and a fairly cool evening. While Matt was finishing up scanning everything, the customer suddenly spoke up.

“I’m fine, just thirsty and hungry and hot.”

“Yeah, I noticed, did you run here? Because we don’t close for another two hours.”

“No,” the visitor said while still giving Matt unbroken eye contact.

“It’s because I just got back.”

“From a trip? Where’d you go?”

“Hell” he said it so casually, it almost sounded normal.

“Oh, that’s cool.”

I HATE my life! Pete got to buy tacos, and I have to deal with some insane homeless guy!

At hearing the man say he was from Hell; Matt did his best to make no sudden movements as he finished ringing him up. “Okay, that will be seventeen dollars and thirty-three cents.”

The customer reached unto his back pocket and pulled out a crumpled twenty-dollar bill and placed it on the counter. Before Matt could give him his change, the man opedne a bottle of water , most of which ended up on the front of his shirt. He finished all ten waters and let the empties fall to the floor.

“Thank you,” he said with water dripping off his chin.

“No problem, you have a good night.” He made no move to leave, he just stood there staring at Matt.

“What’s the date,” the man from Hell asked. He opened a bag of chips as he asked this.

“October 8," Matt answered hoping that he would finally leave already.

“Huh. That means I was in Hell since June. I missed Fourth of July.” If he was sad about that it was hard to tell. Every word spoke was said in a monotone voice.

“Yeah, that sucks. Anyway, I’m closing up soon…”

“You said that you don’t close for two more hours.”

Matt froze. “Yeah, I did, but what I meant was that I need to start to get ready to start closing soon.”

He could feel himself panicking, but he couldn’t stop himself. He was so nervous he dropped his phone on the floor when he reached for it to text Pete to come back to the store. And then stepped on it.

“So, since your back, I bet you want to go see all your family and friends and let them know you’re okay.”

“Not Really."

The stranger ate a handful of chips before he finished his sentence. "My parents hate me, and my best friend is the reason I died."

"What? That's the worst man," Matt said as he tried to casually bend down to pick up his phone and call the police.

"Yeah, he screwed me over on my last job."

"Your last job?"

"Yeah, I used to rob liquor stores."

Oh my God. This is how I die, getting robbed and killed by this freak working this crappy job with a prick who takes too long to get tacos!

While this thought was going through his head, Matt slowly straightened back. Mere inches away from his phone, he opened up the cash register and took out all the money and shoved it towards the stranger.

"Dude, don't hurt me, just take the money and leave."

The stranger just stared at the money lying on the counter.

"No thanks, you can keep that," he said as he pushed the money back toward Matt. "There is something else you can do for me."

He showed Matt his left forearm. It had a fire symbol with horns and a tail. It could've been a trick of the light, but it looked like it was glowing.

"That's a cool tattoo, you can leave now." Matt's voice cracked as he said that, and he did not care in the slightest. He did not want to die in a dingy gas station, wearing a wrinkled uniform shirt, underwear, and socks that had holes in them.

"It's not a tattoo," the man explained while ignoring Matt's plea. "It's a mark from Hell."

"I don't care, get out now!"

The man just continued on like Matt hadn't just screamed at him. "You get one whenever you leave Hell."

Matt decided to risk it and bent down to pick up his phone. When he picked it up, he began to dial 9-1-1.

"The problem is, I have to get rid of mine. That's where you come in."

As Matt was about to hit the dial, the strange man reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Let go of me!"

Matt struggled against the man's iron grip. While he held Matt's arm, he started chanting in a strange language, and Matt's arm started to burn. A minute passed before the man finally released him, causing him to fall on his back. While on the floor, Matt reached for a can of bug spray under the counter and got back up. He pointed it directly at the stranger. His arm didn't burn anymore, but it was still warm. He gave a quick glance at his arm.

It had the exact same symbol on it as the guy had on his hand. Matt looked at the man's left hand, it was blank.

"That's it, I'm done with this! Get out before I spray you in the face and crack you across the nose!" Matt shouted this as he quickly backed away from the counter. He tried to get as much distance between himself and the immediate threat. All the man offered in response was a blank stare and silence.

"Dude, just go! Why are you still he-.” The smell hit him immediately. It was the smoke smell from earlier, but stronger.

"I couldn't leave until it showed up."

Matt didn't see what was behind him, only two inhumanly large hands as they grabbed the front of his face. They were black and charred looking. Matt didn't even have a chance to scream as he got pulled into a hole that had formed in the floor. A few flames flew out as it closed up. The stranger picked up the last of his snacks and left, disappearing into the night.