I
Chris rubbed his eyes with his right hand while keeping his left on the wheel. He looked over to Amy sitting on the passenger seat. They had a little bit of a fight, but she was so peaceful as she slept, he couldn’t seem to remember why he was mad anymore. The light was yellow and the roads were still a little sleek with recent rain, so instead of trying to stop Chris put a little bit more on the gas to make it through the intersection. As their sedan pulled into the street a mass of red metal struck them on the passenger side. There was broken glass, and white pain. Chris awoke upside down. Blood and sweat stung his eyes and he blinked instinctively. Blood dripped from Amy’s mouth and ears; her peaceful demeanor interrupted by a pained grimace.
Chris pulled his truck into the empty gas station, hoping to grab some coffee before reporting for his new third shift security position at the “Brockton County Military Disposal Site.” Fancy name for a hole in the ground. Chris pulled up to the door and saw a lone bullet hole through the glass. Curious, he got out and walked up. There was a sign “Closed Until Further Notice.” Looking inside he saw yellow police tape. Damn, something bad enough to actually get the cops involved around here. Chris sighed, got back into his truck and pulled onto highway 33. He went a few miles down Pine Grove road, then down a dirt road without a name. The chain link fence and black plastic privacy screen were easy to spot against the pines, even in the falling light. Chris continued to the brightly lit, and cozy security both, pulling up to the gate.
“Christopher Lake?” Said the man, leaning out of the booth.
“Yup. I take it we don’t get a lot of visitors around here?”
The man chuckled. “The military actually comes out to use this place maybe, once, twice a year. Aside from that the only people that pull up to this gate are security guards and the monthly grounds crew.” The man opened the gate. “After me and Bill leave you ain’t gonna see anybody till Charlie and Rob in the morning. That I promise you. Just pull into the lot to the right, I’ll give you a walkthrough before I head out.”
“So, you said you’re working with Bill, and there are two guys in the morning, Charlie and Rob?” Chris exited his car and walked toward the man and the booth. “How come I’m working by myself?”
“Alex.” The man stuck out his hand
“Ok, so how come they got me working by myself Alex?” Chris said as he shook his hand.
Alex sighed dramatically “Budget cuts mostly, uhh, plus no one wants to watch a hole in the ground the middle of the night.”
“Shit for what their paying me I’ll watch mud.”
“That’s pretty much the job.”
Alex walked Chris around the fenced in area. There were two warehouses that were used for disassembly, and were essentially empty now, a restroom with a couple of vending machines outside of it, the massive hole in the ground itself surrounded by a small fence and covered by a metal awning above, and finally, the security booth.
“It’s kind of old school, in that we don’t have any of those TV security cameras or whatever, so basically all you got to do is sit on your ass, and occasionally take a walk around the place.”
“What am I supposed to do if anyone tries to get in?”
“There’s a shotgun in the security booth. But they won’t. They don’t call this place The Pit for no reason. Just a big a hole of nothing man, a big old garbage can. You’ll be fine.” Alex got into his car and turned it on. Chris opened the gate, let Alex drive through, and closed it, watching as he drove away. Bill had already left, so Chis was alone to watch the place now. Not much for on the job training, but I guess I’d have to try pretty hard to fuck this gig up. Chris sat down in the swivel chair in the booth, rubbing at his aching back. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot and lit a cigarette. He stared out the booth into the pit, its all consuming darkness seeming to erase the ground it touched. He thought he could see the darkness pulse and throb like the tendrils of some great Kraken dragging down the earth.
II
Chris pulled out of the no name road, and further down Pine Grove. Charlie had recommended a small diner in a tiny village of the same name a bit further down, opposite the way he came. An odd place for certain. After Pine Grove narrowed a bit and the road got rougher it took a sudden left turn and all of the sudden, you’re in some better places abandoned downtown. There were cars in driveways, and well kept lawns, but Chris didn’t catch sight of a single person. It’s early I guess, though this don’t seem like a place for night owls. Chris pulled into street parking near a placed simply called “Pine Grove Diner” who’s sign said open, despite appearances.
There was a ding as Chris opened the door. The diner was quaint, clean, and completely empty save the older man standing at the counter in a dour face and leather suspenders.
“Sit anywhere you’d like” Said the man sleepily, and with a concerning delay.
Chris sat down at a booth near to the counter. The man came around from the counter and dropped a small menu on the table, then, waddled back around the counter.
“Coffee? Chris asked cautiously.
The man took a pot and coffee cup from the counter behind him, came back to the booth, poured the coffee, and went back behind the counter wordlessly.
“Uhm, cream and sugar?” Chris said, a bit uneasy.
The man pointed a shaky finger to a basket on the table. Chris added a dose of cream and sugar to his coffee and began to look over the simple menu. Thanks a lot Charlie, what a lovely place.
“I’ll just take the American Breakfast. Please?”
The man stood staring at Chris as if he didn’t hear him, but eventually turned around, washed his hands, and began to work on the food. Chris watched as the man silently prepared the eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast and placed them on a white dinner plate. The man took the plate and pot of coffee and brought it over to the booth. He set the plate in front of Chris, refilled his coffee cup to the very top, and waddled back behind the counter.
Alright Charlie, you’ve redeemed yourself. Chris set down his fork on the empty plate. When he looked over the check was set at the table. He didn’t recall seeing the man come over, but he had been pretty consumed by his meal. Chris got up and brought the check over to the clerk.
“Quiet around here?” Chris said, half-stating, half questioning.
“Folk keep to themselves around here.” The man stated handing Chris his change, staring him down. Chris thought he felt the man grab him as he handed back the change.
“Uhh, thanks.” Chris left the diner and got to his car quickly. He backed out without really looking and drove off toward home.
At home Chris went through ineffective sequences of lying with his eyes closed in bed but not really sleeping, and sitting on the couch attempting to read, or watch one of his movies, but not being able to pay attention. He closed his curtains tight, but the daylight always creeped in, waking him whenever he would finally drift off. He made a pot of coffee and started getting ready for work.
III
Alex opened the gate and let Chris in. He pulled his truck in and headed toward the security booth. Bill waved as he passed him.
“So how’d it go?” Said Alex leaning on the outside window of the booth as Chris entered.
“Fine. Eventless.”
“Welcome to the rest of your life kid… You look tired.”
“Yeah, didn’t sleep well. I guess third shift will take some getting used to.”
“Yeah, I guess. I guess I wouldn’t know. Plenty of coffee though.”
“I suppose. I’m… I’ll get used to it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you will. See ya tomorrow.” Said Alex as he walked towards his car.
Chris opened the gate, let Alex drive through, and closed it, watching as he drove away.
“Yeah, I’m sure I will.” Said Chris to the empty air.
Around three or four AM Chris headed to the restroom to use the toilet and bear the consequences of the huge amount of coffee he was drinking. His back always ached when he sat down on the hard toilet seats. The dim fluorescent lights of the building seemed to be oppressed by the darkness outside, letting in shadows that shouldn’t be. There was a scraping sound on the floor. Chris tried to look under the stall door while still sitting, but finding himself unsuccessful, and believing himself to be alone opened the stall door. There was nothing there. But he could no longer hear the strange scraping sound. Pipes? Rats? Rats in pipes? Chris finished up and washed his hands. As he exited the bathroom, he could hear the scraping again. He opened the door to look inside, but still saw nothing.
He stood under the awning and protective lights of the bathroom smoking a cigarette and browsing vending machine offerings. He pulled out a crumpled dollar from his pocket, smoothed it on his black uniform khakis and bought a chocolate and peanut bar from the vending machine. The vending machine whirred loudly; a surprisingly loud boom produced as the chocolate bar hit the metal of the vending slot. It echoed into the woods past the fence and seemed to linger, finding home among the cicadas and croaking frogs. I really need to get some fucking sleep.
By the fourth day Chris still had not slept. His back was flaring up again, and he still wasn’t used to keeping up nights, or sleeping in the daylight for that matter. He’d stopped on the way in to work for some energy drinks and a gas station sandwich. It didn’t sit well with him, but he was still a bit wary of the bathroom. He’d been pissing off into some trees off to one of the corners but felt compelled to piss off the edge of the word into the pit. He clumsily climbed over the low gate, almost falling forward, but caught himself. He stared down seeing nothing, less than nothing. He pointed his flashlight down into the abyss, but the light seemed to be immediately consumed in the blackness. This is really dumb. Chris inched back a bit. Yeah but now I really have to piss. Chris unzipped and pissed off into the pit. Like the light from the flashlight, his urine seemed to nearly disappear into the hole. There was no splatter or sound of impact at the bottom. Chris zipped back up, wiped his hands on his pants, and climbed back over the low fence, never
IV
Chris stopped at another diner on the way home. This one was right off highway 33, and he could already see people coming in and out. Mostly blue hairs.
The diner was bright and well attended. A tan hostess with short brown hair greeted him as he entered.
“Seat at the counter ok?”
“I’d prefer booth, by the window if you got it.” The waitress craned her neck to look into the diner a bit, standing on one toe for a moment.
“Alright, follow me hun.” Said the hostess, passing an older waitress with long blonde hair. She nodded towards Chris as she passed him, and the waitress nodded back. What’s that all about. Chris sat down and immediately began to stare out the window, watching the morning sun.
“Coffee dear?” Said the older waitress.
“Huh. Oh, yeah please.” Said Chris, sluggish to respond. He looked over as she set a cup down and poured. He looked up at the waitress. Oh, that’s what that’s about. Jesus, I’m getting paranoid. “Thanks.”.
“My name is Donna; I’ll be your waitress today. I’ll come back in a few minutes after you’ve had a chance to look at the menu, ok dear?”
“Sounds Great.”
“Oh, could you get me a water with lemon before you go?” Said Amy, in her casually sunny demeanor
Chris rubbed his eyes and took a long drink of the coffee after mixing in a bit of cream and sugar.
“Getting any coffee with your cream and sugar, sugar?” said Amy sarcastically
Chris began to browse the menu. He looked it over thoroughly, but it was more of a gesture, he was too tired too eat anything other than his usual.
“He wasn’t flirting with me you paranoid asshole. He’s a fucking waiter, they’re supposed to be nice. You always fucking do this shit.” Amy said, her voice rising to a level most of the restaurant could hear. She put too much money on the table and began to walk out
“Wait, I’m sorry…”
“What’s that dear? You ready to order?”
“Huh. Oh, I’m sorry, uh yeah. Just American Breakfast, and some more coffee.” Chris began to rub his back. This shitty diner seats were getting to him.
“Got it dear, be out in a few. Oh, I’ll go grab that coffee for ya’”
Chris looked through the cabinet for his pain meds. He set the pill bottle on the counter and closed the cabinet. Jesus, I look bad. The lines on Chris’s face were deepened by his lack of sleep. The bags carrying more wait than normal. His sandy brown hair falling flat on his forehead. Chris went to the fridge for a beer. He opened it up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. He turned the water hot and leaned unto the off-white plastic wall panels, drinking his beer thoughtlessly. When he finished the beer, he leaned out and set it on the bathroom floor. He washed his hair and body and got out, lazily drying himself. He wrapped the towel around his waist and went to the fridge for another beer. He put in a movie and sat on his recliner. After a few more beers, and a few more movies, he finally drifted off.
Chris walked through the field of saplings. He brushed his hand passt them as he walked, soft new leaves caressing his fingers. As he moved forward the trees began to grow, taller and taller, growing leaves and fruits. Taller and taller. The bark of the trees turned black. The leaves turned blood red. The fruits burst on the branches, and in their remains was Amy, hanging upside down from the branch, blood and sap dripping from her mouth and ears. Chris fell to the ground weeping, his head hung low. From his back rose a sapling. Eventually it drove him face down into the mud. Its roots began to grow into his body. Then through his body into the ground, as the tree grew taller and taller. Crushing him. Encompassing him. Consuming him.
V
“You’re late, and I don’t exactly like sitting around here in the dark as much as you do” Shouted Alex from the booth as he opened the gate. He left the gate open and began walking towards his car as Chris parked.
“Sorry, I just, I finally fall asleep for a bit, and I don’t wake up for…”
“I don’t really care man!” Said Alex as he got into his car. He rolled down the window. “Sorry. Sorry, just, I gotta get home to my wife. Please don’t make me wait here after shift end again, and uhh, have a good night.” Alex drove his car out the gate.
“Yeah, you too.” Chris said quietly, mostly too himself walking over to the security booth and closing the gate. He sat down on the swivel chair and stared into the road. Fuck, my back is already killing me. Chris took the pill bottle from his pocket, took one, and got up to walk the perimeter and hopefully shake some off some of his back pain.
Chris’s flashlight barely seemed to pierce the cloudy night. As per usual, Chris found nothing but grass, dirt, the occasional trash of other security guards, and a plethora of stinging and biting insects. He went back to the security booth for a cup of coffee. He sat down and stared into the coffee cup. It seemed darker than normal. Blacker than black. It seemed to coat his tongue. Chris ran his hands down his tongue, and looked, but found nothing but spit. He swirled it around. It seemed to cling to the mug. He turned it upside down to find tendrils falling limply from the mug like an upside down putted plant. Blood dripped from the tips of the tendrils. Chris blinked to find his coffee poured all over the floor. You’re losing it.
“paranoid asshole”
“What?” Chris replied to the darkness. He cleaned up the coffee and poured himself another cup. He drank while looking into the darkness towards the pit. It’s darkness seemed to pulse and writhe. Chris chugged the coffee, turned on his flashlight and went over to the restroom.
Chris thought he could hear the scraping again. It felt like it was coming from below him. As he exited it grew louder, echoing in the bathroom walls in a way that shook his chest, and culminating with a loud bang from the westmost warehouse.
Chris ran to the security booth, keeping the flashlight pointed to the ground, unsure of his footing. He grabbed the shotgun from the security locker and moved the flashlight to his other hand, resting the barrel of the shotgun on top of it.
“paranoid asshole”
Chris surveyed with the gun and flashlight and began to walk towards the warehouse.
Chris threw open the warehouse door and scanned quickly. Mice scattered away from the light back to their nests in the walls. Was that it?
Chris walked the perimeter of the warehouse. Was that it!? He found nothing. He exited the warehouse and leaned the shotgun against the metal siding. He rubbed at his back with his right hand.
“sugar, sugar?”
Chris looked around and saw nothing. Nothing but the pit, and its pulsing darkness.
“sugar, sugar?”
Tendrils of shadow seemed to reach Chris from the pit. To grasp at him.
“sugar, sugar?”
The darkness of the pit grew in his vision. Consumed it. Chris began to walk towards the pit. As he looked closer at it, Chris saw past the black. He saw deeper than it. He could make out deep purples, and dark blues. He could make out shimmers of rainbow and golden sunlight past the blackness.
“sugar, sugar? sugar, sugar? sugar, sugar?”
It grew louder. It chanted in Amy’s voice but deeper than it. Chris saw a shape in the blackness. Open arms in the center, at the source of the sound. Chris walked towards it. Chris embraced the deep darkness at the center of the pit.
I am pretty far a long on my second book, but for now, if you like this you should check out my previous story “Ghost From The West,” as well as my first book “Stupid Shit: Adapted Lyrics and Poems.” My upcoming album “Blood & Dirt” also shares a few things, so give it a look and take a listen to “Who’s That A Knockin’ On My Door” on your favorite streaming service.
Dirt Witch Records 
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