I could picture the opposite. Maybe like... ........
(tl;dr at the end)
INT. - Noon - Lone Long Roady's Pine Gas-taurant
One late evening after a loud and barking argument, cursing the mother and fancy red van of your entitled, dead beat boss, you leave the office and decide to go home early. Maybe this time for good.
On your way out, Leslie, the loving woman that she always was, keys on hand was about to ask you to take over the closingshift. But she's an observant one, catching a glimpse at your left over sterness and the room's mood made her stop and re-consider.
Shutter it out, you thought, have nothing to be seen of the recent spitting and ruddy catharsis. You avoid her questions and willingly cave in to her original ask. You know very well, she could use a day off.
Boss is a greedy lowlife bastard after all. Never leaves the dam office anyways, so why not stick around with headphones on? Just ignore the world, one last time.
EXT. - Night - Lone Long Roady's Pine Gas-taurant
Later that night, it's just you with the keys, the back door, and whatever ad interrupted the playlist, gross. With the headphones off you retake stock of your surroundings, too late ofcourse. A sharp cold and warm pulse forces you to numbness. Coming to, no phone, no keys, but a pumping migraine to sober you up.
The door is wide open; putting two and two, even through the delirium, you decide to bolt out. Great!, they took the car keys too. A quick look through the door, it is clear you're out of options. Next town is not within walking distance; maybe wait it out. Brake a window or something if they close up behind them... nah, could thieves ever be so clean?
You wait. Grand dad's watch says it's witching hour. Why aren't they out already? And why ain't the alarms on?... Freezing out here... being feast to the Mothman don't seem like the smartest move. A hammer, just where you left it; maybe you can sneak up on the goons inside if you cross paths.
Returning to the door, it's now locked.
The voice. Rasp. Gruff. Close but... far?
Your are beckoned by name.
The lumbering blemish of madded dark spoke from behind the low lit curtain of fog between you. It's appendage ending in a heavy hand, closing off the trunk door of a familiar red van. Those were body bags. The migraine reered back in avid dread, fearing a torture as unthinkable as this silent fiend.
Such daze made this amalgamed tumor of shapes make less sense when you understood it. Once aproaching, it slowly met at eye level, more and more... clear. Blinking once... twice... a hand pierced the divide, offering your keys, phone and broken headphones by...
"You can drive?"
INT. - ? - Multiple locations
You simply answered your boss as if nothing happened. In retrospective, the following weeks, you wrestle through the mental objection. You got checked by the doctors, you were assaulted. That night happened... Leslie's worried...
You meet at The Dinner and smoothed things over with some lazy cover-up where logic in the story seems to brake for you. She docent buy it, you both know it, but fear to dwell in conjecture or whatever rat poison conspiracy the Sherif goes on about. But what else are you supposed to tell yourself, let alone anyone?
EXT. - Day - Pine Long Roady's Gas-taurant
Next morning you ask Sammy to let you take over opening duties. He's always an hour late so any excuse works out, whatever gets him by, I guess. Now, you know your Boss is there, alone, like always somehow.
If they could have torn your face off they would've done so long ago. They have been brazen, stupid, annoying, and just all round... ancient... but never got a vibe they were.... anyway. It makes this brusk entrance easier.
INT. - Day - Office
You enter the office, same as at the start. Yep, they're here, as usual, not like you ever questioned a sleezy scum bag's schedule. They look up from writing some whatever documents, expectingly.
You, in your ever so eloquent delivery, finally ask.
"What the hell was that?"
Tl:Dr :
What if your boss was the monsterous cryptid that just wants to make money and live peace. And you're the problematic employee that needs this job but hates their guts. One late evening, after being assaulted by thieves you discover a glimpse of their true nature.
Doosits_Ruminile t1_j4z6ew9 wrote
Reply to [WP] You are a worker at a fast food restaurant where your boss is a ass, enough of an ass that someone summoned a demon to kill him and anyone else in the restaurant. They didn't account for you being something far older and more dangerous who just wants to make money in peace. by SapphireFoxy
I could picture the opposite. Maybe like... ........ (tl;dr at the end)
INT. - Noon - Lone Long Roady's Pine Gas-taurant
One late evening after a loud and barking argument, cursing the mother and fancy red van of your entitled, dead beat boss, you leave the office and decide to go home early. Maybe this time for good.
On your way out, Leslie, the loving woman that she always was, keys on hand was about to ask you to take over the closingshift. But she's an observant one, catching a glimpse at your left over sterness and the room's mood made her stop and re-consider.
Shutter it out, you thought, have nothing to be seen of the recent spitting and ruddy catharsis. You avoid her questions and willingly cave in to her original ask. You know very well, she could use a day off.
Boss is a greedy lowlife bastard after all. Never leaves the dam office anyways, so why not stick around with headphones on? Just ignore the world, one last time.
EXT. - Night - Lone Long Roady's Pine Gas-taurant
Later that night, it's just you with the keys, the back door, and whatever ad interrupted the playlist, gross. With the headphones off you retake stock of your surroundings, too late ofcourse. A sharp cold and warm pulse forces you to numbness. Coming to, no phone, no keys, but a pumping migraine to sober you up.
The door is wide open; putting two and two, even through the delirium, you decide to bolt out. Great!, they took the car keys too. A quick look through the door, it is clear you're out of options. Next town is not within walking distance; maybe wait it out. Brake a window or something if they close up behind them... nah, could thieves ever be so clean?
You wait. Grand dad's watch says it's witching hour. Why aren't they out already? And why ain't the alarms on?... Freezing out here... being feast to the Mothman don't seem like the smartest move. A hammer, just where you left it; maybe you can sneak up on the goons inside if you cross paths.
Returning to the door, it's now locked.
The voice. Rasp. Gruff. Close but... far? Your are beckoned by name.
The lumbering blemish of madded dark spoke from behind the low lit curtain of fog between you. It's appendage ending in a heavy hand, closing off the trunk door of a familiar red van. Those were body bags. The migraine reered back in avid dread, fearing a torture as unthinkable as this silent fiend.
Such daze made this amalgamed tumor of shapes make less sense when you understood it. Once aproaching, it slowly met at eye level, more and more... clear. Blinking once... twice... a hand pierced the divide, offering your keys, phone and broken headphones by...
"You can drive?"
INT. - ? - Multiple locations
You simply answered your boss as if nothing happened. In retrospective, the following weeks, you wrestle through the mental objection. You got checked by the doctors, you were assaulted. That night happened... Leslie's worried...
You meet at The Dinner and smoothed things over with some lazy cover-up where logic in the story seems to brake for you. She docent buy it, you both know it, but fear to dwell in conjecture or whatever rat poison conspiracy the Sherif goes on about. But what else are you supposed to tell yourself, let alone anyone?
EXT. - Day - Pine Long Roady's Gas-taurant
Next morning you ask Sammy to let you take over opening duties. He's always an hour late so any excuse works out, whatever gets him by, I guess. Now, you know your Boss is there, alone, like always somehow.
If they could have torn your face off they would've done so long ago. They have been brazen, stupid, annoying, and just all round... ancient... but never got a vibe they were.... anyway. It makes this brusk entrance easier.
INT. - Day - Office
You enter the office, same as at the start. Yep, they're here, as usual, not like you ever questioned a sleezy scum bag's schedule. They look up from writing some whatever documents, expectingly.
You, in your ever so eloquent delivery, finally ask.
"What the hell was that?"
Tl:Dr :
What if your boss was the monsterous cryptid that just wants to make money and live peace. And you're the problematic employee that needs this job but hates their guts. One late evening, after being assaulted by thieves you discover a glimpse of their true nature.