The Night Shift

Twisted Imaginings – A Horror And Gore Themed Blog.

​That first night I put it down to tiredness and equipment malfunction. The company were notorious for not spending. Profits spoke louder than pay and conditions. Nevertheless, I duly noted the flickering screens that overlooked the basement and its single corridor before my night shift ended, mostly because it wasn’t worth the aggravation of not reporting it. Doing our jobs properly, even if you were the night security, was important to management. Maximum work for minimum wage.

I fully expected there to be no change the next night and there wasn’t. The only way in or out of the basement would lead you straight through reception and the basement contained the dusty remnants of past stock and advertising. So it was hardly a surprise that I sat down to the same two flickering screens. After doing my first rounds of the building, I got comfortable with the radio on and began reading the sports pages.

It was about halfway through my shift, the mild, balmy summer night holding the temperature up, that I first saw the shadow. At least I think it was a shadow. The basement camera screen had steadily got worse, so it was hard to tell. Adjusting the screen resolution helped a little and, as it was time to inspect the building, I took my flashlight and had a good look down there. Of course it was the same as it had been for the eighteen months I’d worked there. Except for a new set of footprints. A member of staff must have been there during the day I decided as I sat back down. Which would have explained everything were it not for the black shape that I could see on the screen for the rest of my shift……

The third night I arrived early enough to speak to Colin, the manager. He’d left early and Gavin, the obnoxious assistant manager fielded my concerns. Predictably, he was less worried about my observations and all the more condescending since the pretty new secretary had started work here. He promised to let Colin know, all the while winking and grinning at Lucy, before dismissing me with an abrupt wave. I got myself a large strong coffee and was considering doing the crossword when I saw them.

Three chairs. In the centre of the basement. All facing the camera. The basement was tidier too, the disorganized mess having been moved up against the walls. The screen, and that of the corridor, were working perfectly too. That was odd for sure, but not as odd as my wife and children, who were clearly tied to those chairs. As I struggled to understand what was happening my mobile phone rang. Dumbfounded, I somehow answered it, holding the phone shakily to my ear. The shadow cackled malevolently before holding my wife’s phone to her ear.

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