After Hours
It was bordering midnight when my eyes started to droop. The worst part about the night shift in any job, is that the poor soul who is assigned to it has to endure hours of boredom and sleep deprivation. I rested my arm on the cold marble counter top and tugged at my phone from my black jeans front pocket. I wore tight skinny jeans as it was more fit for my body’s physique, so naturally trying to get something out of any pocket requires actual effort. I pulled out my phone with so much force that in an instant it popped out and flew directly out of my hand.
It toppled to the hard-paneled floor and cracked. I sighed and picked it up off the ground. Just as I thought, it had cracked from the top right of the screen straight down the middle. I swore a string of curses under my breath and set it on the counter top. It was one of three instances in which I actually was given the night shift at the local bar I generally worked at for a bit above minimum wage. I was twenty-three years of age and had just gotten out of college.
Like anything in the real world, you need money to stay alive. So I worked a selection of day and night jobs to keep myself occupied while also gaining in profit. This job was one of three, though the others hold little importance to my recent discovery. I yawned and rested my head into my hand and started to doze. Just then I heard the door to the establishment open. A cold breeze filled the air and I was immediately jolted awake. The person came over to the bar and took a seat at the farthest end of the long row of stools. It was a man relatively in his early twenties, same as me, and was visibly troubled.
He wore a long-sleeve black shirt with a light neon yellow construction vest over it and deep blue jeans. His hair was a mess, his shirt had dirt all over the front of it and he was scruffy and unshaven. He had light blonde hair that was shaven and spiked up with gel along with light blue eyes. He wore a small name tag at shoulder level that looked worn down and covered in dirt. It was scratched out and messed up but I could make out the first letter of what seemed like a name. The letter was “J.” He looked tired, shady, and very down in spirits, but again I worked at a bar and was used to people like this one.
“Hey f-fella, hit m-me with a B-Boilermaker…. Yeah thanks….”
His voice trailed off in a grumbled mess of whispers that I couldn’t make out. I gave him a sturdy nod in before he rested his head on the counter. I took my phone into my front pocket and prepared his beverage. For anyone who doesn’t know a Boilermaker is a “depth charge” drink. It’s normally used for drinking games and for anyone who is intentionally trying to get drunk. Trust me, I myself have had my fair share of party groups in and out of this bar. Hell I had to clean up a guy’s vomit one night due to a lowly group of nine adults around thirty years of age coming in after a rave took place down the street.
I finished preparing the man’s drink and placed it down on the counter in front of me. I looked around but the man was nowhere in sight, I heard nothing and noticed that nothing was out of place. The only thing that managed to be different was there had been no man where there was before. I looked around confused with the drink resting on the counter in front of me. I shrugged and grasped the drink in my hand preparing to drain it into the sink. When I turned my back I heard a loud sneeze. I whipped around and there he was. The man sat at the counter again, only he was closer this time. He looked at me and with a sudden realization his drink was prepared and looked at me with a questionable expression on his face. I was startled and confused. The man that had appeared right in front of me wasn’t there not even two seconds ago.
I blinked a few times and slapped myself lightly; he was still there. I shook my head and passed him his drink, apologizing for my odd behavior. I returned to the other side of the counter and stared at the clock on the wall near the TV propped at the far end of the bar. Twelve seventeen. I thought deeply about what it was that had just happened. The man sitting on the far right counter had disappeared and then reappeared. I sat there for a few minutes and in my peripheral vision I saw the man place his head down on the counter, drink empty. I looked up and saw the man sitting there on the stool. I paused for a second and looked at him, unmoving. The man’s chest rose ever so slightly then fell equally. I took a good look at him before agreeing to myself that I would let him rest there. I went back to my own thoughts and pondered over them piece by piece though before I locked onto a possible solution my thoughts were interrupted.
I felt weird. Like when you know someone is watching you as if you can feel their eyes on you. I looked up to where the man was and what I found startled me. The man wasn’t there. I looked around the room and nothing was there, only the empty glass in which I had prepared his alcoholic drink in a few minutes ago. I closed my eyes tightly and leaned against the back counter. When I reopened them what I found was bone chilling. The man sat in the stool directly in front of where I stood, that wasn’t even the worst part.
He sat there hands flat on the counter staring at me. He just sat there unmoving, no sign of breathing nor did he blink. His eyes kept strong and straight contact with my own. The man sat there like nothing else mattered accept for his eyes meeting my own. At this point questions filled my mind.
How is he sitting in that spot? Where did he even come from? When did he move? If he moved I definitely should have heard him, right? What in the hell is even happening to me? Am I crazy? Am I dreaming?
I slapped myself a few times in hopes of… I don’t even know what but I had hoped it would do something, anything to get this man to stop staring at me. But to no effect he was still there. Staring, staring at me, staring at my eyes. His own eyes frightened me. People say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, but his were more like brick walls. Cold, solid and lifeless. I looked back at the man holding eye contact as I inched away from him slowly. His body sat still except for his head. As I moved, his gaze followed me along with his head. I reached the end of the counter and walked to the other side of the counter.
“Hey um.. sir? Uh, you alright?”
The man did nothing but watch me. I was about three meters away from him when he finally blinked. A wave of relief shrouded me and I let out a deep breath that I didn’t realize I was holding. It was a stupid guy playing a practical joke on me. My tensed-up body relaxed and I walked my way back to my post behind the counter, keeping my eyes locked on the man still weary but more at ease. I took out my phone and periodically raised my eyes to the man. I realized I had a new message. It was an unknown number that I hadn’t recognized or ever seen before. I opened the message and it read:
Hey this is John. Are you at work atm? I need to talk to you, its urgent.
I was dumbfounded. John was a friend of mine that I hadn’t spoken to in years. I was in high school the last time we spoke and that was when I found him cheating on his girlfriend with another girl. Ever since then we stopped talking but one thing made me sure I was crazy. Days after word got out that John cheated on his girlfriend he was dumped and beaten by the second girl’s boyfriend. John was despised by everyone at school. His parents weren’t the most stable bunch and they ignored him and his problems.
Weeks after that no one heard anything from him in the days that passed. Until they found the body. John had killed himself that week and the body had since started to smell and decay. And only one question begged my mind: Where was the man that sat directly in front of me? The man disappeared again. I looked over the counter and this time the stool was knocked over.
I looked around the room until one thing caught my eyes in the corner of the room. The man was standing facing the corner of the bar room. I took my phone in my hands, already spooked enough, I grasped it tight and punched in 911. It rang and almost immediately was answered. I spoke to the operator not allowing my eyes to leave the corner of the room. I explained the situation to them, leaving out the parts of the man disappearing so they didn’t think me crazy. The operator stated the police would be on their way and would be there soon. I kept them on the phone as the police made their way. The man noticed the noise and in response started turning to face me.
“Why did the lights turn off? I’m scared, p-please help me! A-Anyone there?”
When the man turned to fully face me, I studied his face. A long toothy grin was plastered on his face and his hands were hanging at his sides limply. I looked on as I made out the details. The one thing that made my eyes tear and forced my body to seize in terrified horror. Where the man’s once creepy eyes rested, lay two hollow holes. Blood dripped from the two dark crevices. The man mouthed words that I didn’t care enough to try to decipher. He slowly walked towards me, every step jolted his body and his arms swung limply. I caught one single phrase before I backed into my corner grasping a nearby bottle of a random liquid wielding it as a weapon.
“Oh I SEE now..”
He started to laugh maniacally as his grin grew even bigger covering half his face. The man’s body stopped in its tracks and started to convulse violently as blood started to drip from his mouth and down his chin. His neck snapped to the side and fell into itself with a sickening *CRUNCH*. I blinked quickly in panic as a rope started to form around the mans neck but just then it halted all at once, the smile, blood, laughter and movement, all stopped as it fell onto the ground with a thud and a splat.
Flashing lights showed up quickly after that. I hid behind the counter with my legs curled up against my chest. I shook violently with fear and nearly jumped as an officer tapped me back to my senses. I was asked some questions and they covered the body. I was led outside and soon police officers and cars gathered quickly. I sat on the edge of an open ambulance that held the now dead corpse of the terrifying man.
I jolted awake immediately. My head rested upon my hand that was leaning against the cold marble counter top. I stood fully up and was still at work in the bar where I had been. I had dozed off when I rested against my hand and was breathing heavy. I moved my hand to my pocket and brought up my phone: no new messages. I looked around once again at the bar and it was empty.
I had a nightmare. I walked over to the nearest sink and splashed cold water on my face then dried off. I looked around the room once more until I gave up and chocked it all up to my crazy imagination. I pulled my phone out and looked at the time. I grasped it tightly as I read. Twelve-seventeen.
I sighed and allowed my arms to hang limp at my side. I still had no idea what had happened that night. I decided I would clean some of the used glasses that were left behind by customers before hand. I went to the sink and I froze. A singular lonely glass stood in the middle of the sink. Inside of the glass were two identical dark brown eyes that floated in a pool of crimson blood that stared crazily back at me.
They were his own.
