Over the past four months, I have encountered various phenomena, despite the fact I live in a small town, on a small island. I’ve often asked thought of what else might possibly lie across the ocean, what horrible things are happening in the uninhabited corners of the world? Or even worse, the places millions of people pass by every day.

I’ve posted most of that in another corner of the internet its own little box. But this story has a place, it’s a part of a larger genre, as Elise has told me. These rules are a reoccurring phenomenon, meaning there must be some kind of conditions they spawn from, or alternatively, by someone or something is actively causing it. It would explain why it mostly happens in places like this.

This gas station.

I didn’t consider it at the time, the second rule:

Between 11:00 and 11:30 you will begin to hear voices from the store room. Do not open it. Do not leave it open. Make sure whatever you are using to tell the hour is correct to your time zone.

The clock on the wall had no indication of the exact second, it simply read 10:59, the long hand nearly pointing directly up, and the hour hand on the verge of 11. Paying no attention to it, I stomped over to the closet.

Grab her and go, I told myself, be careful with the handle, breaking it may count as the door being left ‘open’.

Taking my arm away from my ribs, pain rang throughout my body. Every breathe was a chore, as I stretched for the door, I watched seconds tick by, as my failing body reached out, another flash of sweat leapt from my skin.

I opened the glossed over door fully, calling for her. As soon as she saw the green of my suit, she knew it was me. She bolted out past me, reminding me of when she’d squeezed by me at the start of this shift. This time however, I was not only discomforted by her thick hair whacking my face, but also the slight nudge to my ribs she’d made in her tackle, which made my muscles contract.

“Close it, close it, close it!” she yelled. I pushed the door closed harder than intended, with little regard for whether or not it could take it. Luck was with us, the hinges held firm. I turned to her, my mouth wide, “Ahh-Are you ok?”

She went in to hug me, before I stopped her, “NOT the ribs!” She still did it, just a little more gently than her initial grapple attempt.

She breathed a sigh of relief, “I’m so glad you’re ok… Did you get rid of it? That demon bull.”

I half smiled, “I’m not sure that’s a good description of the thing.” I walked her outside, or rather, I leaned on her, as I hobbled out. I’m actually extraordinarily light, taking into account I can crack through a monster skull, given enough time. I’m actually shorter than the average man, just an inch taller than Elise. Before we went through the door, she was looking at me, smiling, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me uncomfortable.

That all changed when we got outside. As soon as she saw it lying there on its side, she let go of me and froze, crouching down without a word. This was the first time I’d properly looked at what I had done.

It’s torse was swelling a little, blackening around the area of my first attacks. It had long since stopped bleeding from the cavity I’d made in his head. What was the point of all this? Killing this unearthly thing? Was it to keep people safe? To keep Elise safe, right? No, I’d scared her, put her life at risk. It was revenge. This creature could be avoided simply by disposing of the garbage properly. But in my anger, I did this. Now that I've cooled my head,I can ask myself, what has been gained?

My co-worker raised a closed hand to her mouth, I’d have hunched down beside her, but I doubted I’d have been able to get back up.

“Is… Is it dead?”

I nodded.

“Poke it,” she said.

I closed my eyes. “No Elise, I am not going to poke it.”

“Well- I can’t,” She shushed, “If it gets back up- You’re the one who’s freakishly durable.”

I opened my eyes, “Yeah, yeah I’m strong.”

I thought I’d put the matter to rest by doing as she wished. I waltzed up to it, getting accustomed to the pain in my sides over time. As I walked over I extended my hand, she called out for me to stop.

“Not with your hands! Haven’t you heard of what happens to whales when they die? The bacteria in their stomach and stuff leaks out! Use a stick!”

I replied calmly, as I placed my hand on the creature, “I’ll just wash my gloves with the anti-bacterial wipes or something.”

I held my hand on it for a while, it hadn’t taken long going cold. I swiped my hand off of it, returning to Elise, sitting down anyway.

“You actually killed that thing. With your bare hands.” She enunciated the words, pushing them from her mouth. “It took a hell of a lot more than that,” I told her “Two things. I was lucky, he didn’t have any fangs or claws, he only tried to crush me. I tend not to do well against sharp edges and enormous strength.”

“And the second?” Her eyes were glowing, something about the story grabbing her usually diverted attention,

“I was… plucky, I guess.” I scratched my head, thinking if that was the right word. “It was bigger than me, more vicious than me. Probably had a better reason for fighting than ‘revenge’. But I was scared, I’m not talking about adrenaline, I’m talking about the things fear can make you do. The heights it can push you to, or, the depths it can drag you to.”

She leaned against me, putting her head on my shoulder, her hair tickling me, I didn’t like it.

“We could leave. The guard dog is gone, you can go home, run yourself a bath. Maybe wash that wig of yours.” She grabbed her hair, “It’s real. And it’s clean.”

I looked into the dark horizon. “Maybe you wash it too much, I’ve heard that can be bad for it as well.”

She admitted, “I’ve been thinking about dyeing it.”

I commented, “Might look nice blond.” She laughed and climbed to her feet, helping me up after I extended an arm.

I told her, “I don’t think I’ll be breaking anymore rules.”

Of course, now I know that was an absolute lie.

She smiled, before looking at the head lights coming in from the dark.

It was a customer. At first, I thought it might be rule five, but no, just a middle-aged man driving home from his own night shift.

She stared back and forth between him and the corpse. We watched for some time, as he walked past it, not batting an eye, before taking the pump, and filling up a can of gas for the road.

Elise at last asked. “What the hell…”

“He can’t notice it. Most people rationalise to themselves. He's probably thinking its a dead cow. Stuff like this, paranormal phenomena, it all exists in a bubble. The way someone explained it to me was that there are three rooms. The first, is where the people like him, like your boss live. They can’t acknowledge this stuff. Then there are people like you, people who know, you can interact with it, but you aren’t it. I am the third. I am the paranormal, the strange. Then all of those rooms overlap, or something.”

“That’s screwy…”

I grinned at her response

The man approached the gas station, giving us a courteous wave, I welcomed him, “Just the five gallons then?” Looking between the two of us, then into the store, he finally nodded, “Aye.” The three of us walked back in.

Then the store room began to scream.

I felt a dread run through me, as Elise served the driver, and I cleaned my gloves with the wipes.

I wasn’t afraid for myself, but the sounds coming from the door, rule 2, I could hear so many voices begging to be saved. The circumstances we were under, the normalcy of it all, did not help. The customer’s tired expression, like he could fall asleep at any moment. He yawned, and made eye contact with me for a second before looking away.

I was the strangest thing in the room.

After taking the change, he left quickly.

I asked, “Are they always this loud?” Elise teetered her head. “Sadly, no.”

Then I heard her shout, “HELP! HELP!” and my eyes widened, my jaw dropping slowly, my cold sweat returned.

“ITS ME, SHAMROCK, SAVE ME! THAT’S NOT THE REAL ME, THAT’S NOT THE REAL ELISE! OPEN IT! THERE’S STILL- THERE’S STILL TIME! YOU CAN BEAT THIS THING!”

I was looking directly into Elise’s eyes; her mouth had been hanging open after the first call for help, the sound echoed out from behind me.

The speed at which she shook her head gradually increased, “Don’t do it. That’s not actually me. That’s not me!”

Minutes must have gone by with both of the Elise’s shouting, I was absolutely frozen, split in two. I had to decide. I had to decide now.

I filled my lungs with air, shot my hand towards the note, reflecting on it once more.

2.

Between 11:00 and 11:30 you will begin to hear voices from the store room. Do not open it. Do not leave it open. Make sure whatever you are using to tell the hour is correct to your time zone.

I sighed, my fears falling away. I set the brown page on the counter and turned to the real Elise, and explained my reasoning.

“It’s alright. I know you’re real, remember I said no more rule breaking? I’m not opening that door for such a stupid reason. First off, it says nothing about doppelgangers in the notes, and if that was a threat, then you, the real you, would have said at the start."

They both went quiet.

“NoOoOoOo!”

The door shrilled. Still attempting to deceive me, still failing, “What if I forgot? What if I didn’t know this could happen?”

Before the real Elise could get a word in, I said, “She’s too into this rule thing to forget about something so important. She’s an idiot, but she’s not the type to risk someone else’s life.”

The face she made told me she was offended by the comment. “Besides, they way you’re speaking right now, is nothing like how she’s acted before. I doubt if she was being tortured, she’d be in any state to think up a logic argument either.”

We ignored the rooms taunts from then on. I went back to scrubbing my gloves, Elise reorganised the shelves. I had a feeling she was angry at me; she wasn’t even watching those videos anymore.

“Why, uh, why do you still work her?” She looked up from her crouched position, “Duuuh, I’m too stupid to know hows to quit.” She stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes mockingly.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean anything by that.”

The door parodied, still using Elise’s voice, “I’m a spaz! I’ve got the attention span of a goldfish!”

I scowled at the unmoving plank of wood, still expecting it to rattle or bang, as it and the other voices cackled. But it was still. It’s like there was nothing behind that door at all.

I looked at my co-worker, she’d turned away. I crouched down beside her, saying, “I don’t think you’re an idiot. I guess your kinda weird, but I'm not the guy to judge.”

She said without looking at me, “I like working here.”

I thought I’d miss heard her at first, but I let her continue. “I dropped out half way through college. I say dropped out, but I wasn’t going to be let back next year, probably. I wasn’t doing good, I’d moved back in with my family, coasted through jobs like this- well none of them were really like this. Nothing was like this. I found something incredible, something that only ever existed in books, or on a screen. That’s how I felt, that’s how I feel. I’ve seen people die here. But I kept thinking forward, imagining what other amazing things I’d find. And I eventually found you. And you’re not even trying to kill me..”

“That’s…” I tried to find a way to say it politely, “…Not a very healthy way of looking at this. As long as you’re working here, you put yourself at risk, you just said you had family waiting for you back at home, imagine what it’d be like for them when you don’t come back. When you never come back, and they never find out why…” I choked off.

She stood up, and spoke with more force, “But you have to understand, right? When you first found out about all this, even if you always had your powers or whatever, doesn’t it make your life feel less-” she searched for the words, “-meaningless?”

“I haven’t always had powers. But I’ve always wanted to be a hero. If I didn’t dress up in green, then it’d be in a uniform of some kind. Hell, maybe if I was lucky, I’d have gotten into a pair of scrubs. Tell me what’s so pointless about living in a world where there aren’t any monsters under the bed, where I’d be able to help people out of tight fixes, without nearly being eaten. I wish I had the chance to live like that, but I can’t turn a blind eye to this now, but you- you can still go back.”

We were both getting heated. I’d like to blame the tiredness for my temper, but I was genuinely annoyed by the fact she was treating this like a fantasy adventure.

“You should both end yourselves! That’d solve both your problems!” I remembered there was something I could still vent my frustrations at. I walked behind the counter, “What’s one more broken rule, eh? You want me to open you, huh? You want me to come in there and kick your ass?”

“Yes! Yes! Come at me you clown! You think your hot stuff, huh? Your yurnin’ for a burnin’!”

The creatures phrasing made me grin.

Elise tried to stop me, “Don’t open that door, in 40% of lists these types of things just kill you out right.”

I asked, “Do you know if it’s being literal with the burning part?” She shook her head, so I continued getting what I needed.

I grabbed the peppar spray, and something else from below the counter before telling Elise to back up. I had to open the door with my foot, as soon as I’d pushed the handle down to whatever extent counted as being ‘open’, its arms bulged the door open. They flailed out at the edges of the door, showing off.

It had a variety of tentacles, many barbed with white tips, which offset its oily purple-black skin. In the centre of its mass, it had a human denture line fully on display, as it grinned as wide as the door frame. A single tooth was nearly as big as my head.

I suppose it wanted to scare me a little before it killed me, wasting time by letting my look at it.

I matched what little expression this festering, writhing mass of legs could show.

That’s to say, I grinned.

A flame erupted from the spray can, its contents ignited by the simple house hold item I’d taken earlier, a lighter. I couldn’t very well see what expression it was making anymore, what with the smoke and fire. I was assuming the pained screams were a little more authentic now, as it angrily lashed out at me. I assume it would normally pull in its victims, crushing them in the tiny space, but it didn’t want to be any closer to the source of the flame. It thought it was clever, flinging it’s flaming appendages at me, thinking I’d back off at the sight of a few sparks.

The thing about these homemade flame throwers is that it’s actually really hard to catch anything on fire with it. I think it’s the propellant that does it, and without a constant stream of that, it’ll be difficult to start a fire with the stuff.

So, I bet I could handle the heat longer. This being said, I’m not exactly fire proof, not even particularly flame resistant. So again, I foolishly put myself into harms way.

It tried to knock the flame thrower from my hands, but my grip is far tighter than he imagined.

Eventually its tentacles slunk back into the store room, and one of them closing it behind. I thought about opening it again, but after giving the can a shake, (It was pretty much empty) and a quick thought that a second dose might be a little overboard. I set both the lighter and the can back where I got them.

I turned to see a terrified face, and noticeably smoky room.

“Open the windows.” She ordered, she herself running over to the door to keep it open. It made sense to me that she’d want to get this gas out of the room, she shouted, “Fan the sprinklers- Turn them off, something!”

I apologised, “Sorry I broke my promise, but I’m pretty sure that thing’ll think twice before it tries to snatch somebody up.”

She wedged the fire extinguisher between the frame of the door, keeping it open, if only a little. “I don’t care right now, I mean- You’ve fucked up now. Do you know what forms in a room with a varying temperature? If those sprinklers go off, there’s a way bigger chance of it happening.”

My silence conveyed my confusion.

“Rule 5,” She said plainly.

I began to fan faster. “When I was working with that kid with the Mullet, well, one day he lit a joint, set off the sprinklers. We- we were able to do as the 5th rule said, and hide in the store till it left. We don’t exactly have that luxury.”

I fanned faster still.

I did this. I put her in danger, again. Why!? What was wrong with me? Why did I keep valuing violence over just playing it safe? It would be so easy to just sit back, follow the rules. Just don’t touch a door for half an hour, just take out the trash, just give that man a packet of cigarettes, it’s that easy!

But something about it doesn’t feel right, does it? I just watch these things from behind the counter, knowing what they’ve done? What they did to Mullet? What’s alright about this? I can’t get rid of this feeling in me, I’m offended by these things on a conceptual level. They lie, they trick, they kill- and fuck me, whatever comes with the droplets on the window? Let it come. I’ll fight it, I’ll end it.

But then I’m pulled back. I was supposed to help people.

Not whatever I was doing now-a-days.

What I just did was wrong, that is clear to me purely from the expression on her face.

As the sprinkler comes on, spraying my dirtied face with water vapour, I say it again. “I’m sorry.”

My mouth contorts, “I’m so sorry.”

‘Please…’ I begged to no one in particular, but in my head, I kept repeating, ‘Just one. Please, let me save just one person. ‘

I was, literally, slapped back to reality. “Take out whatever shows up. Your said you were strong, so act like it! I’m going to stand in that corner,” Elise pointed to the opposite end of the store from the store and entrance, around the meat section. “-and you’re going to fight it. It’ll spawn in right at that door, or just outside it, I don’t know, that’s just where the tapping sounds come from. I’ve never seen this thing before, so that’s about it. I’m pretty sure it can leave the building, whatever it is, it always leaves through the door. That’s all I’ve got.”

I stared at her dumbly.

“That’s all I’ve got, so do what you can with it.”

I clamped my jaw up and leapt behind the counter, looking for something to make the fight easier. My mind raced, my blood beginning to pump. I remembered my left hand, without taking my glove off, I could guess that the jitters going through it meant it was done for the night. I still had a good grip, but it would be foolish to use it in this fight.

I pulled out another box of fish hooks, and wrapping the strings around my left arm, tight, tighter than the ones I’d used for the bait. I was apprehensive to use it again, but I grabbed the fire extinguisher by the nozzle holding it in my right hand like a flail. I held the seven or so hooks in my left hand, making sure they didn’t catch on my swaying cape. I had no clue if the hooks would be effective against whatever came through that door, but I needed as many options open as possible. I had three, maybe four, if worse came to worst.

I watched from a crouched position behind the counter, waiting for anything. It might have been minutes that passed by, before I began to think of searching the rest of the shop for a makeshift weapon.

Maybe if I took the broom, attached something to its tip, something sharp, that could be effective. Not the hooks though, they wouldn’t pierce enough, maybe there are gardening tools somewhere around here, a trowel would be great.

As my mind raced away, I suddenly noticed the first droplets form, realising it was too late for anything else. Slowly, incredibly slowly, those tiny drops of dew formed along the corners of the windows, starting around the door.

I thought for a second, that I could hear the pattering of rain, but after thinking about it, putting my years of living in Ireland to good use, I recognised a short break between the tapping, like the timing of a windscreen wiper. Or someone walking at a slow pace.

I ducked down moments before the door slid open, before the creature was visible through the now steamed windows. I heard breathing, hot and wet, like the sound a boiling kettle makes. I even felt the climate of the room change as its head came through the door, its pace slowed now, likely to fit its large frame through the door. I realised that whatever it was, it was thin enough to squeeze in, but tall enough to bump the ceiling.

I waited a few seconds assessing what it knew. When it came into the tiny room, it stopped, looking around, I think, searching. I had to lead with the extinguisher, I couldn’t use the hooks unless I got an idea of what it looked like.

I shot out of hiding, assessing the thing for just a second, swinging at whatever most resembled a head.

The mass bounced like a bopper, audibly hurt.

I scanned it as fast as I could. It was thin, as thin as a regular person, I couldn’t make out many of its features, the body and head were covered with a white sheet with blue trimming on it. You know how when people sit in a chair to long, they develop a creak in their neck and a humped back. The cloak creature had that to a cartoonish degree, its long neck hooking round, as big as the rest of the body.

I could see its lower jaw, that was the only part of its head that was visible. It had a terrible underbite, its fangs like daggers pointed up.

Three points of the thing bulged to extreme sizes, such that it didn’t seem possible for this already front heavy creature to exist. Its back was humped, with a large semi-circle dome scrapping across the ceiling, its hands and feet shared their abnormalities, both were clawed and had a metal shine to them. The feet only slightly curved, while its fingers were like great sickles.

I would have laughed at the irony, I'd just been thinking about that weakness of mine. Two powerfull swipes from those would probably cut me in to, let alone kill me. All it would needed to do was skewer me and I'd be at it's mercy.

It stared over at me assessing me, before I once again whaked it over the head. After doing so, he realised I was the threat, and lashed out at me. I chucked the extinguisher at the sickle-fingers face, before rolling behind the counter. I heard it chopping at it, I took a second to gauge where its head was, the kettle’s cry was louder than before. I shimmied my way in the direction of the store room, coming out two metres away from the slasher.

I betted on it being as dumb as some of the previous monsters I’ve fought. I shouldn’t have. It noticed me, and stabbed its left hand out at me, dodging it I moved in thinking the worst was behind me.

It was.

He wrenched his extended arm back, cutting me in the side.

I didn’t even get the chance to think about it, as he was already swinging his other arm at me. I dodged forward, using the lanky ness of his limbs against him. I reached out with my right hand and grabbed at its mouth, yanking its jaw by the teeth bringing it as far down as possible, before punching my left hand up its throat, as far as my elbow.

Pulling it back out, I cut my arm on one of the fangs, steam searing into the open wound. I back stepped, pulling at the wires I'd attached inside its throat.

The hooked meat burst forth when I pulled with both hands, bringing out a few of its upper teeth, and ropes of pale viscera. It hissed out, slashing wildly, I only just dodged it. I had used both of my homemade weapons. The wires were sliced as it was swinging, and the flail was out of reach.

I had one final plan that didn’t involve sacrificing myself.

I doged backwards from it into the aisles, not to fast, so as to give Elise time to avoid the carnage between us, I doubted she had the reaction time needed to dodge any mid-quarters attacks. Every little dodge was shaving at my life, this thing had been clever before, but now it was blinded by its fury, it was unable to function under the pain I’d dealt it.

I’ve learned to overcome that weakness tonight. Sweat, blood, and snot, ran over me, this thing was made for killing, it had killed, but I wasn’t going to let it make me any less effective. After circling around the aisles a few times, he was getting tired. It’s heart, or whatever this thing had, was being over exerted itself. I had regained a cool head, and had caught myself on.

After a particularly slow few swings I finally pounced with all my conserved might, grabbing it by the palm, before twisting its thumb, I changed my grip on the hand once I felt it pop. It flung its free hand at me, and I was able to anticapate it, the strike proving predictable after I'd observed this thing for awhile.

I threw myself back in, grabbing the mangled thumb with both hands, prying it free from the hand.

“Weapon number 3,” I said, “-your greatest weapon, is your the same as your enemies.” I held his twelve-inch sickle in my hand now, his scream of pain giving me an opening right away. It’s not very heroic to cut your opponent to pieces, but if it meant living for another few hours, who’s going to complain? The weathered cloth covering it was thicker than I thought it might be.

I stood over its still steaming body, panting and sweating. The creature didn’t leak any blood, only steam bellowed from the wounds i’d made. Elise poked her head up again.

She slowly approached the carcass, prodding it with the broom.

I nodded at her, “Pretty sure it’s dead.” I stared down at the head of the sickle fiend, the fabric around its head severed, along with its forehead, which was pale and bony.

“One more rule,” She said, still poking at it. “And that showing up isn’t guaranteed.” I looked around, the shop in ruins, shelves knocked over.

“I’ll help you clean up this time,” Elise smiled, just about done prodding the corpse, when it began to squirm under the cloak. I went wide eyed, and she screamed.

It was the bulbous area of its back, we watched as it groaned from within, something pressing against the fabric, a hand. Motioning for her to back up, Elise did, now holding the broom like a bat. I poked through the fabric, slicing it open, steam following after the cut. The hands tiredly reached out of the opening. The boy’s body slumping out soon after.

I didn’t show any emotion.

I’d recognise that shitty haircut anywhere. Mullet. He coughed as he came out.

I looked over to Elise, my blood cold despite what I’d been through earlier. The horror on her face, that’s the only way I can describe that expression, was conveyed through the twitching of her eyes, the quivering of her lip.

‘How did he get in there?’ I thought, ‘Didn’t she say he’d been killed by rule 1? Surely, she would have noticed the condensation. If that event was happening, then the only way for her to have survived and never seen the sickle-fiend… Would be for her to have hid in the closet.’

I thought back to the advice on the note, and felt my stomach churn.

'If one of your co-workers is outside following one of the previous rules, leave them.'

Elise, why do you look afraid?

What do you have to fear?

It's just you, the man you left to die...

And a man obssessed with justice.