I've worked at a small gas station for a couple of months now. It's one of those truly old school gas stations. It's not like one of the major ones like a BP or what have you. It's old faded paint gives it a less than desirable atmosphere. It's a little off the highway in a pretty small town. It's not the most popular stop in the world. You have some locals that stop in, but most customers are old gritty truck drivers or desperately lost travelers. In my experience, you rarely ever see the same people twice. If you turn right after ticking the exit, it's full of gas stations and restaurants, but turning left will get you about a mile of nothing but trees, and then you'll see us. The gas station sits along the side of the road completely to itself except for the shell of an old McDonald's building. It was moved to a busier part of town years ago. They didn't even bother to take the signs for it down. From time to time, I'll see a car drive that way and have to do the turn of shame. Now I was a little embarrassed to work here. I'm 28 and have dropped out of college on two different occasions. I moved to a small town about 50 miles from my hometown, mainly just so I don't have to run into people that know me and hear, how you been still in school? You graduate yet? I literally moved to avoid familiar faces.  So whatever. I applied to a few different places and then I saw a posting for a gas station. They were offering way more than any of the other places I applied to, which was strange for a gas station that advertised its business name simply as gas station. So I drove out there to see if it was legit. It was. And I started right away. I have two co-workers, Margo, who has apparently been here since the place opened in the seventies is the one that hired me on the spot when I came in. She's in her sixties, but she's easily the most intimidating person here.  She's always been nice to me. But if some trucker got out of line, she'd put them in their place. I'd seen grown men hunker down in shame after a Margo scolding.   He'd always said, only other worker we have is Josh. He's a quiet guy. Nice enough. Just quiet. I've always been really bad at judging ages and I've never asked him, but he seems to be in his thirties. Definitely not forties or younger than 20. His young hair and beard didn't make it any easier to decipher Margo trained me for my first couple of days. She showed me my way around the register stocking cleaning. You know, it was just a run of the mill gas station clerk job. Once I was trained, I was thrown on the night shift. Last week, something really strange happened. It started simple enough. It was around dawn when a big burly trucker came up to the desk. You got a creep problem. He huffed, uh, what? There's some weirdo peeping in the bathrooms. I wasn't sure what I expected him to say, but it wasn't that. I, uh, I think I scared him off though.  What?  Really? I was in disbelief. I hadn't noticed anyone go in or out of the restroom, which doesn't say much, I guess. It's in the back corner and with all the racks of merchandise. It's not surprising that I could have missed someone. Plus, I don't pay that much attention. After about a week, I got pretty comfortable, knowing that I wasn't going to get in trouble for being on my phone in the dead hours. Just be on the lookout. I'm sure he'll come back. The trucker said as he burped and slid his red bull and peanuts across the counter. When he left, I felt pretty creeped out the rest of the night. It was particularly slow that night. I only saw two or three more people after him. Around three o'clock, nature started calling, but I wouldn't dare go near the restroom until my replacement got there. It was Josh that morning. When he came in, I gave him the same hay there I'd given him every time I'd seen him. He always gave the same high and then walked over to the book to write his clock in time down. I debated telling him for most of the night, did I want to freak him out? Why make him go through the same thing I went through? I'm sure it was morning now, but it doesn't matter with the isolation of this place. Crimes don't just happen at night. Hey man, I had a guy complaining about a peeping Tom in the bathroom. Could have been nothing. Just figured I'd let you know to be on the lookout. Josh didn't seem to care much. Okay. He shrugged. I was jealous. Why couldn't I have had the same reaction?  The more I thought about it, the more I figured you'd seen here all kinds of wild shit when you have years on the job. If I was going to make it here, I'd have to get used to it, I guess. I was off the next two days. I didn't think about the peeping Tom again until my next graveyard shift. I parked my car out front in a spot to the right of the entrance.  I always thought a potential thief could just wait and see that the car hadn't moved in a while, but I never said anything. The biggest thing deterring a robbery here is the lack of money. I couldn't remember a time when there was more than $300 in the register. I honestly didn't know how it's still in business. I walked in into my surprise and no one was there. I figured Josh must have been in the bathroom. I'm sure he heard the doorbell thing, so I just went ahead and walked behind the counter. I wrote down my clock in time and looked up. Still no one. I didn't want to be a creep, but I just had to make sure everything was okay. I slowly walked to the back, looking around nervously as I went. Nothing. So I made my way to the bathrooms. I peeked into the men's, no sign of them. I heard a faint noise from the women's. Sounded like someone locking one of the stalls. I was about to walk in, but decided I should just call out to him instead. Hey Josh, I'm here. Silence filled the air. There was a ding as the entrance door opened. I walked around to the front and was hit with a sigh of relief when Josh walked in. Hey there Josh, wasn't sure if you were in the back. No, I just went out to smoke. Josh came in and grabbed his things from behind the counter. He gave a forced head nod and left. Listen, Josh isn't the most entertaining person to be around, and honestly, I don't think he likes me. But as I watched his car pull out of the lot, I got a big sense of dread. I let out a sigh and prepared for the night. Normally, I'll only have about three to four people in for gas, but tonight was actually kind of busy. It was a relief. It kept my mind busy and away from the thoughts that working in a place like this can bring. The gas station is about four hours from the beach, so tonight's customers were mostly big families in and out. Gas, candy, and bathroom breaks over and over. Around 1.30 am was when everything started to go wrong. I had a family of three come in. It was a middle-aged man, his wife, and their young son. The man and the son went to the men's restroom, and the woman started to walk towards the women's, but she backed away with her face crunched up. She made her way to me. Hey, I hate to complain, but the women's bathroom smells bad. Like unbearably bad. She said, I'm so sorry, I apologize. The man and his son walked toward us. What's wrong? He asked. The women's restroom smells like death. She said, I'll clean it right up, I told her. In the meantime, you're more than welcome to use the men's. By the time I could find the air freshener in the back, they were gone. I heard the door ding, and I went out to make sure no one else came in. I saw them walking to their car, and no one was in the store, so I made my way to the women's restroom. She wasn't kidding. As soon as I opened the door, I inhaled one of the foulest odors I'd ever endured. I quickly covered my nose. As soon as I walked in, something caught my attention. There were muddy shoe prints all over the floor. Josh was supposed to clean before he left, so this really pissed me off. I didn't remember anyone coming in with muddy shoes on tonight, and for that matter, I didn't even remember any women coming in to use the bathroom. I sprayed the air freshener as much as I could while cursing Josh and whoever had made this mess under my breath. This still didn't explain the odor, though, so I looked in all the stalls. However, one of the stalls was locked. My heart started pounding in my chest. The muddy footprints led to that stall. I froze. It's hard to say how long I was just standing there, staring at that stall door. I finally worked up the nerve to look under it. No one was there, but the stench was. When I bent down, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I gagged and rushed out of the bathroom to collect myself. Once I was sure I wouldn't vomit, I went back in with a face mask and mopped up the mess. I kept thinking, why the hell would they crawl out from under the door? I didn't want to think about it anymore, so I just marked it up to the door must have locked itself when they slammed it back. Once the floor was dry, I got on the floor and crawled into the stall. To my surprise, it wasn't that dirty. Aside from a muddy handprint on the door, and oh god. There was a dead catfish in the toilet.  I said out loud. It had been gutted and had a single bite taken out of its side. Its blood was all over the sides of the toilet. I gagged again. I unlocked the stall door and went back out to the lobby. I checked the time, 2.03 am. I wasn't sure if I should call Margo, Josh, or the police. What in the hell was wrong with the people here? I decided to calm myself down by explaining it in my head as a teenage prank. I got my mask back on and cleaned up the mess. I triple-bagged the fish and threw it in the dumpster outside. Something I didn't like to do was walk around outside at night, but I would have rather been murdered than smell that fish anymore. When I got back in, I manned the counter for a couple of hours. I wanted something to lift my spirits, so I watched Schitt's Creek on my phone. It helped not only to pass the time, but also kept me in a safe headspace. After a little while, I put up the back-in-five-minute sign and headed to the restroom. If I had known what I'd experienced in the coming moments, I would have walked out, driven far away from that place, and never come back. I put up the sign and locked the door. I walked into the last stall of the bathroom and locked it shut. And then I noticed something. There was an eye peeking through the crack of the stall door at me. Whatever it was, they were bent forward with their face right up to the door. They didn't blink. They were staring through a hole, straight to me. My heart was pounding out of my chest. I just stared back, frozen in fear. I kept thinking I needed to wake up from this nightmare. From what I could see, they had long, dark brown hair. It was filthy and dripping wet. Everything I could see of this person was muddy. It looked like they just climbed out of a lake. They kept their eye fixed on me until they switched and looked at me with their other eye. It looked like they were moving their mouth as if to say something, but no sounds ever came out. Finally, my body let me respond in the way I'd been wanting to in my head the whole time.  I'm calling the cops. I have a handgun. Don't make me use it. Suddenly I heard the stomping of wet, bare feet. They were running out of the bathroom. I dialed 911 and kicked the stall door open with a rush of adrenaline. I'm not an intimidating guy. I'd never been in a fight and I never wanted to be. But at this moment I was ready to fight for my life. I turned the corner into the gas station lobby. He was nowhere. I ran to check the door, but it was still locked. I could hear the 911 operator talking, but I was too focused on where this guy went to answer them. I slowly moved around the shelves, ready to face whatever was on the other side. He wasn't in the lobby. I looked for footprints and saw them again. They led to the women's restroom. I stared at them for a moment.  Who cares about this job? It's not worth this. The other half telling me to get the club we keep under the counter and take care of this problem right now. The 911 operator was still desperately trying to talk to me. Sir, are you still there, sir? I kept my eyes on the bathroom door and put the phone up to my ear. I whispered that there was a man in my gas station. They asked, are you in danger? I'm not sure. I said back, can you get out? I looked at the front door. It was a clear shot to my car. Then I looked back to the women's restroom. I told them the address and sat the phone down on the counter. I picked up the club and made my way to the restroom. I pulled the door open and had the club ready to start swinging in anything that moved. The same stall that I'd unlocked earlier was closed again. I looked for footprints. They stopped at that stall. I yelled, come on out. The cops are already on their way. The silence was deafening. I said again, don't make me do this. I looked under the stall, but saw nothing.  But no one was there. I quickly looked all around me, anticipating getting attacked from behind. But no one was there. The creep was gone. I searched the entire gas station, but they weren't there. I was alone. Both footprints led out of the gas station, and both the front and back doors were locked. I felt crazy. I know I didn't make this up. The fear I felt was too real. I literally cleaned up the mess they made. It was there. The police showed up a few minutes later. It was a lone, older cop. I quickly let him in. Everything all right? He said, he was shining his flashlight around all over the place. I explained to him what happened, but I left out the part about the doors still being locked. I didn't feel like being told I was just seeing shit, or that I must have been tired.  He asked. No, I don't think we have any. I said, I figured after last time, y'all would have gotten something. He said, there was a last time? I asked, confused. I figured you were new. Yeah, about a month ago, we had to come out here. The girl was all tore up when we got here. Said a man attacked her and trashed the store, probably the same guy if I had to guess. He said, did you ever find anything out? No, not a lot to go on. We searched the premises, but didn't find anything. Felt so bad for the poor girl. He said, disappointedly. What happened to her? I asked. Not sure, really. Honestly, I doubt she came back. Hey, give me a minute, I'll sweep the area. Stay here and keep the door locked. He told me before walking outside, I didn't think it would help much. I stayed close to the door and kept looking over my shoulder. Finally, he came back and told me he didn't have anything. I asked him if he could maybe stay out there until daylight. Normally, I wouldn't, but with this being the second time it's happened, I'll stick around.  I thanked him profusely. He parked his cruiser out in front of the entrance. I felt much more comfortable for the rest of the night, but I still found myself getting goose bumps every time I looked back towards the bathrooms. I stayed behind the counter the rest of my shift. Morning came and the cop popped back in to tell me he was leaving and asked if I saw anything else. I told him I hadn't and he said to call if something else happened. He seemed to be really invested in this now. The sun did give some comfort, but I didn't feel a true sense of relief until Margot showed up. Then she got there. She no sooner told me hello before I just spilled out the details of everything that happened that night.   Strange things happen here. It just comes with the territory. I couldn't believe she was just brushing this off. This was the most traumatic event that had ever happened to me and she just sighed it away. Why doesn't this place have cameras? I asked. We can't afford those big fancy cameras and frankly I don't feel we need them. No one bothers this place, at least not financially. What happened to the girl before me? I blurted out. Oh, I think she was just scared of the dark. Some people ain't cut out for the night shift. She said in an annoyed tone.  If it'll make you feel any better, I'll put Josh on the night shift and you can do three to eleven tomorrow. I nodded my head and went to sit in my car. That's where I'm writing this now. Yeah, I need a job, but not if this is the price.