yessleep

Driving 15 hours straight is a pain in the ass. Sure, you have Audible, music, and the radio to listen to, but driving for a long time is still tiresome, and I’ve only stopped to get fuel, relieve myself, and eat and drink. My body is now reaching its limits, and I still have ten more hours.

I’ve found a reasonably priced hotel and what makes it better is that there is a Waffle House down the road. I decided to stop and fill my empty stomach and empty my bladder.

I pulled into the nearly empty parking lot as it was around three in the morning and chilly here in the south. I got out of my car, locked it, and looked at the never-closing restaurant; rain, sleet, hail, snow, or even if the apocalypse is happening, Waffle House is here to serve you. I waved to two of the smoking workers, and they just looked at me and waved back.

I opened the door and was greeted by the small night crew there. I took a seat at the bar, and a woman whose name tag read Sandy came up to me and asked, “ What kind of drink will you be having, huh,” her southern accent drew out the last syllables of each word.

“I’ll be having some water with ice, and I know what I’ll be having,” I replied.

“Ok, “ Sandy said as she pulled out her receipt booklet and popped her pen.

“I’ll have a Texas bacon patty melt, hold the onions and pickles, and a side order of grits,” I said while rubbing my eyes.

“Ok, it’ll be done in a few, “ Sandy said, finishing the order and then calling out to the cooks, and they repeated the order.

Sandy left and returned with a cup of water, and I snatched it as soon as she sat it down. I downed that water and signed in relief. Sandy smiled at me and said, “ Well, where are you from?”

“I’m just passing through. I drove fifteen hours and had ten more left. I just needed something to eat before I hit the hay.”

“Oh, ok, business or pleasure?”

“Vacation. I should have booked a flight instead of driving, this was a bad idea, but no one ever tells you how boring and a pain in the ass it is. Just sitting in one spot and shifting every so often, though the sights are nice, and it’s lovely to see how fast the scenery changes from city to trees within no time.”

“Yea must be lovely,” Sandy’s said, “ I got to get back to work.” She said, reaching for my half-empty drink to refill it.

She returned, and then I got up, “ I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here waiting for ya.” She said, smiling and waving at me.

I walked down the hallway, and there were three doors: one was a men’s and one women’s restroom, and the other door was left cracked open, probably a supply closet someone forgot to close.

The relief from emptying my bladder felt almost as good as the cold water. I washed up and headed back, but that was when I heard a moan from the cracked door. It was low and far away.

I gave the door a side-eye. I’m not opening the door and seeing whoever is there having sex. It’s the last image I want to see before I sleep. I stepped away, and that’s when another moan came out, but it wasn’t out of pleasure but of pain.

“Dylan,” I said to myself. “this is none of your business. Just eat and leave. Eat and leave.” Another moan came out, more raspy and dry.

I opened the door, and I was confused. What I thought was a closet was a door leading to a basement. When the hell did a Waffle House, have a basement? I looked down the steps, and the darkness made it impossible to see how deep it went.

Another Moan came out.

“Son of a bitch, don’t do this. This is every horror story and movie begins. Don’t be the stereotypical white dude and invest–.”

I looked down the hallway back to the dining floor, and no one was looking. I opened the door and went down. God damnit. What if someone is being held down there, and the people here aren’t as they seem? You know that Waffle House hires felons, and someone is still doing their thing. A basement is the best place to hide a body. No one would check a Waffle House because Waffle Houses have no basements except this one.

I got my phone from my pocket, turned on my flashlight, and saw that the stairs had gone deep. Deeper than a basement should be. I started down the steps, and more moans of pain came out; these moans sounded like how zombies in the movies do. It took at least three minutes to get down the stairs making a spiral pattern and going down. Meanwhile, the moaning kept getting more precise and louder.

I finally made it to the floor level and what I saw was just… mind-blowing. This wasn’t a basement; the thing in front of me looked like a massive cathedral and would make any church blush. I don’t know how the foundation hasn’t collapsed or caved in. Sure there are pillars for support, but wouldn’t that even have its limits or begin a skink hole with this much mass missing to support the building?

There looked to be roots growing in and out, and these roots covered the entire ceiling and hung like vines from trees. The moan came again, and I found where the noise was coming from, and I ran where a mass of thick roots came down, looking like a Redwood tree with those roots expanding in every direction.

What I thought was roots was something entirely different. I didn’t know what to make of it. I rushed to the other side, and what I saw terrified me. A man was trapped in those roots, the roots piercing in and out of his body. They also came out from his mouth, and a single root came from the top of his head.

This man looked like he hadn’t eaten or drunk in years, and he looked nearly one hundred with how old and saggy his skin looked. His pupils were white and glazed over, and that’s when he moaned. I don’t fault the guy; he seems to be in pain. His vocal cords were on their last legs and could only make wheezing, or whatever you call wheezing, sounds.

From out of nowhere, I was struck on my head and grunted in pain. My phone fell out of my hands, and I staggered and reached for my head. I looked behind me, and my vision blurred, and a familiar voice came through, “ Well, shucks, hun, you shouldn’t be here,” Sandy struck me several more times before I blacked out.

I woke up in darkness with an enormous headache. I felt my body tied up and couldn’t move an inch. The man was nowhere to be found. A tiny tremble and dim blue lights lit up the room, and I saw I was wrapped in the roots. I panicked and started to shout, and that’s when the roots began to move, and it then released me.

I stumbled, and that made my headache even worse. The roots then grabbed my legs, lifted me into the air, and took hold of my arms, and then pain in my back, no, my spin erupted as I’ve never met before. It was as though the roots were hooking into my spin. Other roots then shot into my arms and body, and I screamed like a newborn baby, and I nearly passed out. The roots wrapped around me like a chain spool then more roots made their way to my mouth, but I was too damn tired to fight and screamed.

The roots going down my throat caused my gag reflex to respond, but I had nothing to upchuck, so it was just dry heaving and tears stained my eyes. There came another shock of pain at the base of my skull; this made my entire body convulse and stretch out, become ridged, and go limp a second later. I was crying and breathing heavily. I looked down and saw the blood dripping and pooling.

My adrenaline was now wearing off, the pain was becoming unbearable, and fatigue began to set in, but I couldn’t pass out. I looked around my new jail cell, and I looked up and saw another root lowering down; this one was different, it was large and sharp, and it was lowering to my head. I tried moving but was too damn tired to move, and the roots held me in place.

The needle-like root lowered and pierced my skull. It sounded horrible; there was a pain, but just for a split second, I couldn’t scream, and then I was one.