Work was shit. Busted my ass doing extra hours on the budget and my boss wouldn’t even give me a raise. I had put three different colours on the pie graphs this time round (that’s three more than usual) and not even a crumby thank you made it my way. Not to mention the five years I’d been with the business.
“A raise? A RAISE?” He yelled.
I attempted to justify.
“Surely a reward for going above and beyond sir”
“Buddy, I’m already giving you a reward every week!”
Here it comes.
“Two days off and your weekly pay! GET OUT!”
The office door slammed. What a fun guy. To be fair I had thrown in too many swear words back there. If you dare say “raise” you best not also mention “reward”. The big man can’t handle that kinda fucked up vulgarity.
I felt pissed, humiliated and a bit stupid as I drove home. This holy trinity of emotions left me itching to try my luck on some scratch cards. I needed a win today.
“Hands off the cabinet!”
The gas station worker wasn’t pleased to see my fingerprints all over the glass. I apologised and pulled my face away from the display case. A variety of games with colourful names lay before me.
“Wheel of Fortune! Scratch three of the same number from 1-10 to win big!”
“Genie’s Wish. Rub three lamps to earn your dream car!”
“Jackpot Jack. Three pots of gold to win $100 ten fold!”
None of them appealed to me. I needed something that could offer me enough winnings to escape the nine to five. I’d played all of them enough times to know they were rigged.
As I went to turn away I saw a stack of red cards in the back corner of the cabinet. I hadn’t noticed these ones before. Perhaps they were new. I made sure the worker wasn’t looking and leaned back over the glass.
“Horror House. Three hearts and earn a prize of infinite value”
Fuck it. I was game. I liked the sound of it. Plus, I didn’t have anything else to lose except a couple bucks from my underpaid wage.
The worker handed me a card and I began to scratch away. Immediately I could see some red as the silver cardstock came off.
One heart!
Cool. That’s a solid start. I moved onto the second square.
Two hearts!
Woah. My own heart was beating. I couldn’t get ahead of myself though. It had already been a rough day and it didn’t need to be any rougher. I hesitantly scratched the final square.
Holy shit.
Three identical hearts were pictured before me. A laugh escaped my mouth. Well, more of a howl. I slid my golden ticket over to the worker with a smug grin. An error sound chimed as he scanned the card. He held it back out to me.
“Sorry its not in the system”
His hand remained outstretched. I flashed him a bewildered look.
“What do you mean?”
“The scratchie. Doesn’t exist in the system. I can’t cash it in for you here.”
I waited for him to mention that he was pulling my leg and would happily give me my winnings. He said nothing.
“Well what about my prize?” I inquired.
“Sorry bud, don’t think there is one.
I snatched the card back and stormed out. Curse words flew off my tongue with such eloquence that I think I might have invented a new genre of poetry. Threats of arson were definitely made against the station. Yikes, that counts as a crime doesn’t it?
That evening I thoroughly browsed the interwebs for a shred of evidence on this scratchie. Not one result could prove it existed. A gullible conspiracy theorist would have a hard time believing it was legit.
The closest thing I had was a phone number on the card’s bottom right corner. However, calling it would only result in the same automated message.
“Thank you for calling. Please reach out to claim your prize once you have completed the game”
Another dead end. I was particularly annoyed at this messages given I HAD already completed the scratchie. Idiots. Little did I know the game was yet to begin.
I collapsed in my recliner defeated by the day. I must have dozed off because I remember being awoken by a loud dinging and donging. Midnight.
Christ I hated that clock. For every milestone year at work they give you an antique looking ticker to “thank you” for your service. I know, how exciting. Its obnoxious noises really make up for the lack of promotions right? I received one recently for my first five years. All it did was remind me of the repetitive life I was wasting there.
Speaking of which, it was time to hit the sack. I needed the sleep tonight if I wanted to be somewhat pleasant at work.
I pocketed the scratchie, rose from my armchair and reached into a big stretch. My bones exploded into a series of cracks. They’re doing that often nowadays. The final ring of the clock chimed. Silence. That was when I noticed its presence. The game had begun.
I watched the frost grow, then recede on the living room window. Moisture from hot air was consistently hitting the glass. This repeated for a few seconds before I recognised what it was.
Foggy breath. Something was alive out there. Its warm exhale came from the bottom right of the window. Just out of sight.
I slowly placed a foot back, careful not to make a noise. My ankle clicked.
Shit.
I hoped whatever it was didn’t hear, but there were no longer any clock chimes to hide my presence.
The thing released a deep growl. I went to run but was interrupted by a shower of glass. It had jumped through the window.
I didn’t catch a proper look at its body but I was definitely pinned beneath it. What I did see was its face. Kinda hard to forget.
It was a fugly thing. Its head shape was comparable to a hairy venus flytrap, except covered with many eyes. They blinked individually. If there was a winking competition, this fella wins. The main attraction however, were its teeth. Much like a shark it had multiple rows, except these ones went right back to its throat.
As my head went inside its mouth these rows began to spin in circular paths. Razor sharp teeth swirled like the blades on a blender. It felt like one too. The last thing I recall were chunks of my flesh being tugged off by the walls of the creature’s mouth before…
DONG!
Midnight. I awoke to the sound of that fucking clock. I cursed its presence and how it reminded me of my monotonous life.
“What a nightmare!” I thought.
I told myself I should write it down. Could be a cool feature film, or maybe its better suited as a short. As I went to pocket the scratchie I noticed something about it had changed.
A large black cross was scribbled over the first heart, as if it were no longer valid. The other two remained untouched. A horrible thought flared in my mind. Did I just die? I looked at the window.
Once again, in the corner of the glass, I could see the creature breathing. It was happening again.
I understood how to play now. I had to survive this thing. I made sure to crack all my bones before the clock stopped this time, especially my ankle. After all, the scratchie said I only had two hearts left to win this damn game.