Someone - or thing - walked into my diner last night
I work the night shift at this dingy little diner on the outskirts of town. It’s not glamorous, but it pays the bills. Tonight though, I wish I had called in sick.
The place is dead quiet, except for the faint hum of the neon sign outside. I wipe down the counter for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to keep myself occupied. That’s when he walks in.
The guy looks completely ordinary at first glance. Average height, average build, wearing a worn-out jacket that’s seen better days. But there’s something off about him. His eyes are wide open, like he’s staring right through you. It sends a shiver down my spine, but I force a smile and greet him.
He takes a seat at the far end of the counter, his gaze never leaving me. I try to shake off the feeling of unease as I walk over to take his order. His voice is low and gravelly, sending a chill down my spine as he orders a black coffee.
I pour his drink with trembling hands, feeling his eyes boring into the back of my head the entire time. I quickly slide the mug across the counter, eager to put some distance between us. But as I turn away, I catch a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror behind the bar.
His expression is… wrong. It’s like his face is frozen in a twisted grin, his eyes still wide and staring. I feel a knot form in my stomach as I try to rationalize what I just saw.
I try to focus on my work, but I can feel his presence lingering behind me like a shadow. Every time I glance in his direction, he’s watching me with those unnerving eyes.
As the night drags on, the diner empties out until it’s just me and him. I try to busy myself with cleaning tasks, but I can feel his gaze burning into the back of my skull.
Finally, unable to take it anymore, I muster up the courage to approach him. “Is everything alright, sir?” I ask, my voice trembling.
He doesn’t respond at first, just continues to stare at me with that haunting gaze. Then, in a voice that sends shivers down my spine, he speaks. “You shouldn’t be here alone,” he says, his words dripping with malice.
I feel a cold sweat break out across my forehead as I stumble backwards, my heart pounding in my chest. Without another word, I turn and bolt for the door, desperate to escape his chilling presence.
As I burst out into the cool night air, I glance back at the diner one last time. The man is still sitting there, his eyes fixed on me with a look that sends a chill down my spine.
I don’t stop running until I’m safely back home, but even then, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. And as I lay in bed, trying to push the memory of those haunting eyes from my mind, I can’t help but wonder… what was he? And what did he want from me?