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Unclaimed Pizza

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I started my shift expecting a dead day; it was a Tuesday, and the college town where I worked was often fairly sleepy by 7 pm. After bullshitting with Jeffrey, my friendly-yet-vacant coworker, I retreated to the back office of the pizza parlor, packed full of old receipts and pizza boxes. I could see Jeffrey milling about the kitchen, preparing one of the few pizzas requested that evening. On the monitor showing the front of the restaurant, I saw our delivery driver preparing to leave for the customer’s house. It was nearly closing time when we finally got another call. Jeffrey grumbled about it being late, but answered. I noticed he looked mildly confused. Our delivery driver was still out, so Jeffrey told this to the customer on the other side of the phone and promised it wouldn’t be too long of a wait. “All good?” I asked after he hung up. “Yeah…” Jeffrey looked troubled, an unusual sight. Normally there wasn’t much that bothered him. He couldn’t remember his problems long eno
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A Walk in the Dark

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  I work the swing shift. I usually get off work at around 11 p.m.  I left with a few colleagues, chatting aimlessly and complaining lightly about our boss.  We were almost to the area where we parked our cars (a hundred or so yards away from the warehouse, down a service road), when I realized I had forgotten my lunch box.  I exchanged a few words with my coworkers, reassuring them I’d be right behind them, and not to wait, and jogged back towards the warehouse.  I went back inside and quickly located my lunch box in the break room where I’d left it. It was rather dark, as it seemed everyone had already left for the night. Nobody was ever scheduled for the night shift on Fridays, save for the security guard. I figured the security guard was somewhere on the premises, but I made sure to turn the light off and lock the door behind me when I left anyway. He was a younger man, not particularly responsible, who always got a ride from his mother to work. He was usually smoking on the other
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The Shadow in the Corner

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It stands in the corner of my bedroom every night. I have grown rather used to its presence.  A dark shadow, darker than the night, the vague shape of a man.  But I know it’s not a man. It watches me silently. It does not move. If I turn the light on, it disappears. It always stands in the far corner, nearly pressed up against the wall. Until tonight. Tonight it stands closer to me. Its arm is slightly raised, as if beckoning me forth. I do not dare to look directly at it.  I huddle under my blankets, and try to ignore it.  But now, I can’t just see it. I can hear it.  It breathes deeply and slowly. Each breath makes the room colder.  When it takes a step, I can hear a faint creaking sound, as though its joints are old and have not moved in a very long time.  It is almost to the edge of my bed.  My heart is pounding in my chest. I pull the covers over my head, but swiftly they are drawn away from me. The shadow puts its hand on my forehead, its other hand gently under my chin to lift m
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It's All In Your Head

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The steaks sizzled as Lauren flipped them out of the pan and onto dinner plates.  “Honey, dinner’s ready!” She sat down at the dining room table, sliding one of the steaks across the table to her husband’s place. She straightened the cutlery and set out a wine glass for herself, with her favorite red.  Her husband entered the room and sat down, rubbing his belly. “Mmm,” he said happily. Lauren smiled as he dug in, and took a sip of her wine.  Her husband was a few bites into his steak when she began to cut into her own.  Lauren was about to take a bite herself when she noticed something long and white in her meat. At first, she thought it was a string of fat. Then she saw it move.  Lauren suppressed a gag and set her fork down. She quickly grabbed her husband’s steak and inspected it. To her horror, she saw the remnants of a softly moving white worm.  “Spit it out!” she demanded, without explanation. Her husband looked confused. “What’s the matter?” Lauren suppressed another gag. “I… I
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Every Night I Watch People Go Into My Neighbor's House

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  I first noticed when I was in my kitchen at 3 a.m., getting a glass of water. I suffer from insomnia, so I’m often up at that time, wandering around my house aimlessly. I live alone, so the only person this bothers is myself.  I heard a car door shut and saw my neighbor across the street going inside his house, followed by two girls wearing sequined dresses and strappy heels. This wasn’t suspicious in and of itself; From the few neighborhood interactions I’d had with my neighbor, I knew he enjoyed clubbing. I just figured he’d gotten lucky tonight.  I finished my glass of water and watched my neighbor’s lights turn on. His curtains were drawn, so I chuckled and muttered, “Have a good time, man.” I turned away, and retreated to my living room, watching T.V. until the sun came up. It felt as though I had dozed off, though I doubted I was so lucky, when, through my living room front window, I saw my neighbor get into his car, alone, and pull out of his driveway. I frowned. Where were th
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Birdie

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  Rain fell in waves over a small sleepy town. The streets were devoid of the usual hustle and bustle of pedestrians and passersby, most opting to splurge for a cab in this sort of weather. A few people rushed by, hunched over, desperate to avoid the rain.  Birdie Schmidt walked slowly, admiring the way the water made the pavement shine. She loved the rain. Some people gave her strange looks, which she supposed was fair, since she wore only a short summer dress, despite the cold.  Birdie was on her way home from work, and swung her purse gleefully as she hopped over puddles. She was very glad to be done for today.  She was nearly halfway home when she noticed a strange man following her. He did not rush through the bad weather as the others on the street did, but rather, walked with a steady determination. He wore a black raincoat with the hood up, hiding his face. Birdie glanced over her shoulder a few times, and noticed he did in fact seem to be following her, even when she took an u
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The Bus Crash

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I wake up disoriented, my head pounding. I sit up, surveying the situation around me. I can’t recall what had happened. The sky is nearly black, and stars are beginning to appear. I wonder how long I've been unconscious. I lay on the pavement of a long, derelict section of highway. To my right, a large bus is on its side. The windows are shattered, and smoke rises from the engine, but there are no flames. Maybe there had been earlier. I stand up, brushing myself off. I have a scrape on my arm, and my shirt is torn, probably from this apparent crash. I feel a bruise on my head. I must have hit it somewhere along the line. I approach the bus, part of me hoping there will be people, and part of me hoping there won’t be, seeing as it’s in poor condition.  I bend down to examine the bus, but it is empty. I notice the windshield is also shattered. It looks as though something hit it from the outside. There is blood on it. Did we hit a deer? Where is everyone?  I stumble around the bus, t
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