As Marston drove onto the lot of the little station, he gave the place a cursory look over, then sneered at the rundown condition of the single building and the lone gas pump.

He got out and began filling the gas tank, then opened the trunk and reached into the duffel bag and got the gun and hunting knife.

Entering the little station, he began wandering around the pitiful offerings they had in the way of snacks and canned drinks.

He had to stock up on plenty of snacks, especially anything high in sugar content, for when he awoke from the feeding sleep, he was going to be very, very hungry, a fact he knew from past experience, and it seemed that the sweeter stuff was what he craved at that time

He took his purchases up to the counter and looked around for the clerk. Come to think of it, there hadn’t been anyone behind the counter when he had come in, either.

He stood there for a moment or two, then gave a shout to see if anyone was there. He was just about to shout out again when an elderly woman came out of a little door next to the cigarette case, muttering under her breath, telling him to just be patient, she wasn’t as young as she had used to be.

She moved to stand across from him and then began to ring up his purchases, never once looking directly at him and not saying a word.

When she had rung up the last item, she finally looked at him and he was a little shocked to see that her eyes were nearly covered with cataracts. How the old bat had seen to pick up the items he had chosen, much less ring them up, he didn’t know.

She told him the amount due in a voice that was strangely flat and without inflection, her face emotionless, looking past him rather than at him.

Taking out his wallet, he paid for the purchases and then left, looking back at the store just before he got in the car.

Man, that old broad had been definitely twilight zone, he thought to himself as he started the car and pulled out of the lot, his tail lights soon lost in the now once again strangely clear night.

And in that store, the old woman’s eyes turned an eerie glowing red as a smile of what could almost have been described as smug satisfaction touched her lips and she whispered, “Welcome, Marston Ellis, we’ve been expecting you!”

And as the sound of chilling laughter suddenly filled the empty silence, the station began to fade…

Till all that was left was the burned out shell of a building covered in weeds and creeper vines.

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About MARANTHA DREAMWEAVER JENELLE

WRITER'S USE WORDS TO PAINT PICTURES ON THE CANVASES OF THEIR READER'S MINDS. marantha d. jenelle/aka 'maradjen'

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