Creepypasta #1140: The Creepiest Thing I've Ever Had Happen During Night Shift

Length: Short

As a 22 year old high school dropout, I really have little to no opportunities in this world, so I took up a job at a 7/11. Night shift. Fuck. Me.

Working late shift, one very cold September night, a man walked in. He looked like he’d just gotten completely smashed, then glued himself together, and got smashed again. The motherfucker walked, acted, and talked drunk. He also smelled like a drunk.

He went over to the hot dog roller that we have. They’re hot bars that spin and basically cook things like sausages and egg rolls. He went over to it and pointed at the egg rolls. 

He shouted, “huaaaaaaaa gimhihhe thisssssssss”, which was followed by a very obnoxious and low groan.

Being forced to, I put on a smile and said, “Yes sir, right away.”

I grabbed the egg rolls and strolled over to the register. It totaled up to $2.67. But he only had a $20 bill, and we were out of fives and singles. 

I said to him, “sir, do you have anything besides a 20? We’re out of small change.”

He said, “no”, in a very mopey tone.

I got the impression that he was homeless. So me being the nice person that I am, I pulled out $2.67 from my wallet and paid for him.

He looked so happy, as happy as his wrinkly face could be. He started limping out of the store. When he got outside, he got on all fours, clawed at the packaging for the egg rolls, and fucking chomped both of them up at the same time. I tried to keep my reaction in, but I flinched at the sight.

He fucking took off on all fours faster than any human would on both legs.

About sixteen minutes later, him and five other men crawl up to the store on all fours.

I was shitting myself beyond belief right there.

As soon as they reached the door, they got up and walked like drunks.

They all wanted fucking egg rolls

What the fuck was I dealing with?

We only had 6 left, and there were 6 of them.

So I said, “there are only 6 left. Sorry guys, only half of you will get egg rolls.”

They all fucking screeched and howled at the same time.

Being a natural pussy, I said, “I’ll be back. I’ll go get some egg rolls.” We make our egg rolls in-store, for freshness reasons. I set them up, and told them, “it’ll be about 10 minutes.”

About 8 minutes later, the first man got up and laid his hands on the counter, with the loudest fucking clang that I’ve ever heard. I scurried over and said, “they’re ready”, with the biggest voice crack. 

They cracked up and laughed like how a drunk person would, but they didn’t seem drunk when they were running up to the store.

I serve them their things. "It’ll be $15 exact,“ I said. 

The original man put up the $20 bill. Me, with the instinct of survival, handed him back five dollars from my own wallet. They scurried along with their food happily. Then, they ripped the food apart and chomped it down in seconds.

We had a little donut store next door, The person who worked night shift at the same time as me was a really, really, really big prick.

I heard them loudly crawling over next door, and the door slammed open.

The guy shouted, "hey, watch that fucking door!”

Then I heard him say, “That’ll be $12.54.”

Then he said, “If you only have $5, get the fuck out.”

I hear some more clawing, and I heard water splash. Then a loud thump.

I never did hear the other door close. Our doors are lightweight as hell, so we can hear basically anything that isn’t a whisper.

I heard dragging, and then silence.

I went over next door during my 10 minute break. 

And there was nobody there. Just a scuff on the floor, and scratches leading to the back as if something was being dragged, and was holding on by its nails. It led out to the dumpster, where the guy who worked the night shift clerk was laying in it. He was scratched across his face and neck, with his head bleeding and a giant gash on his right temple.

I saw 4 pairs of eyes watching me. Then in a flash, they were gone.

I could’ve been the dead clerk if I wasn’t so nice and helped them out.

If you work night shift at a place that sells food, and if you see people that don’t seem to act sober, or are just plain creepy, please, take my advice.

Be friendly.

Credits to: Serpenteir

anonymous asked:

Imagine being a doctor for the avengers and you're slowly but surely falling for Bucky. One day he comes it with a great big gash on his side that you have to stitch up. "You're a idiot, you could've been killed" you mumble to him as you go about your work. He laughs slightly "Well, if I hadn't gotten beat up I wouldn't been here talking to you." You make eye contact and the two of you suddenly come to the realization that the two of you have been pining after each other for months.

“Please tell me you haven’t been getting beaten up on purpose” you smile, stitching his arm. 

“Darlin’ I’d take a beating everyday if I got to see you after” he’d say with a cocky grin. 

Fluffy Friday™ 

     Angelica’s gentle fingers mingled with Conjury’s hair, washing out the sweat from the night before. And what a night it was. The girl could barely remember the sequence of events post-Duskwood, but to her mother it was all too VIVID.

     A priestess arrived in the dead of night. In her arms, Conjury. But at the same time, not Conjury. As Angelica rushed to her child she quickly realized that something quite terrible had happened, something that robbed her daughter of her very self.

     Of course, that was just the shock. But still, the state of her was a terrible sight to see. Vomit and blood staining her robes, a gash ripping the girl’s face apart, it was unbearable.

     A quick uttering of thanks to the woman who’d returned her daughter was all Angelica could muster in such a time. Urgency had not been so real, so ALIVE, in years.

     She could barely get a warm cloth to her child’s face before another string of bile seeped out of her lips.          URGENCY.

     The stitches were cleaned and Conjury examined, bandages gently stuck to the torn skin on her cheek - their bright white hue matching the girl’s own quite perfectly. It was treatable. Good.

     Conjury avidly rejected any magical aid, feverishly pushing away anyone without material assistance. That in itself was worrisome - but what can you do.

     The rest of the night was spent on a cot in the small clinic she’d been imprisoned in, and Conjury fell deeply into a sleep for the rest of the night.

     Upon the dawn’s break she was allowed to go home, a small canister of salve and a few pills to take the edge off neatly tucked in her mother’s hands. Better on this morning, but still distraught, Conjury returned home much more like herself.

     As Angelica gently washed her hair and bathed her body, Conjury’s mind slowly regained it’s focus. While her mother had asked her repeatedly what had happened, all she could muster was a faint;     ❛ I fell.

     Of course with a GRUESOME wound like that, Angelica didn’t believe her. Neither did the priestess. Neither did the man who’d stitched her up. But really, how could anyone believe that?

     From her temple to the corner of her lip, a rugged valley of flesh was carved in jagged movements down her face, bone exposed on her cheekbone and blood freely pouring down her body.

     But for now, covered. Stitched. Bandaged. MARRED.

     The gentle swipe of Angelica’s sponge and the heat from the bathwater was all that comforted Conjury now. She refused mirrors, refused explanation. She even refused to outright acknowledge what had even happened.

ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ;;「 @casyril​ 」

It’s so weird how potato bugs are like… normal… but also not normal? Like everyone knows what they are you see one and you’re not like “what the FUCK kinda monstrosity is that shit” you’re like “yikes a potato bug” and leave it alone and go about your day

Like have u ever just looked at one they look like hell spawn upon this earth like some deity was like “you know what I’m gonna make??? Some sort of freakish amalgamation of all the worst bugs. And I’ll make it squishy gotta have the squish” like what the fuck

Punk (Chap. 11)

Originally posted by coporolight

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: ~2500

Warnings: Language, mission/war related violence and gore, shooting, battle related injuries/casualties/mayhem

A/N:  My sincere apologies for how long this has taken.  I’ve been dealing with some personal things and, quite frankly, it took away all desire to write.  I hope you like this chapter, the photo with the shield later on in the story is actually the inspiration for the entire series.  So you can get inspiration from anywhere :)  I want to thank everyone who stuck around waiting and who has been so helpful and kind to me.  Also, I’m very excited to continue writing more chapters!  Thank you for your continued patience.

As always, feedback is always appreciated.  Please let me know how the ‘action’ plays out as I am always looking for ways to improve my storytelling.  Thanks!

Your face fell in horror, but you seemed to be the only one moving, the rest of the world seemed to be stuck in some sort of time lapse.  Bucky was still just crouching there, holding the boy, with that stupid, beautiful smile still plastered to his face, not yet seeing the danger, not yet registering your alarm.

No no no no no no NO!  Your mind was screaming the words as you tore your gaze away from the scene.  The man was getting closer.  NO!

You bolted forward, shoving the woman into the alley screaming for Bucky to run, ripping your vocal chords in the process. Your legs felt like they were trudging through molasses, like some force was pulling you back, weighing you down. And each step on the pavement felt like an elephant stomp making the ground shake.  But it was as if you weren’t moving any closer.  But you had to.  You had to.   Because what was about to happen could. not. happen.

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