Convenient Fever

[ AUTHOR'S PREFACE - Here is a story that I am pretty sure is ripped off of one of my late night delerium filled movie binges. I wrote it though so you may as well read it. Just makes you think though, is it always a good idea to stay inside in lieu of braving the elements? ]

“Who was the bright guy who even thought to build a convenience store all the way out here?” The speaker, a college student, male, of average form and looks, appeared to be about as forlorn as the weather outside. The snow had been coming down for about four hours and even though the highway was only a few yards from the sliding glass doors that led to the small parking lot, the entirety of the outer scene was obscured by a thick layer of white. The television, which had gone into a fit of snow almost as fierce as that outside three hours into the storm has said that it was the worst blizzard seen in the region for three decades. The bright, thankfully warm convenience store had in that instant, when the TV and phone had gone out and the back-up generator kicked in, become the small dominion of the two attendants.

“Or rather who were the geniuses who decided to get jobs here?” Answering was another young man from the same school and dorm mate to the original speaker. “So, Ryan, what do you say we do next? We’ve already pillaged the nudie magazines and played about a million games of checkers, I don’t think that the old man would be too tweaked if we got into the food do you?”

“Knock yourself out bud.” Ryan remained leaning on the counter staring out into the snow-covered night as his friend went off in search of something to munch on. “Hey, I’m going to turn down the lights, we don’t know how long we’re going to be here and we’re on back-up power right now as it is.”

“Good idea, you go and do that, I’m busy over here with some nachos.”

With a laborious groan Ryan rose and went to the back of the store. On his way he caught a glimpse of Paul in the opposite corner crafting a monument out of chips, cheese, and hot peppers. The look of sheer pleasure o Paul’s face annoyed Ryan to a degree only he could understand. He had been raised by a mother who was utterly paranoid of natural disasters and had instilled that fear in her youngest Ryan. He was scared out of his mind by the entire situation and could not even mention it due to a cocktail of bravado and embarrassment. When he finally go to the utility room and turned the lights down to a dull ambient glow the fear inside of his breast made bile rush to the back of his throat as he nearly passed out. Playing it off as a little fall he darted to the back as casually as possible and brought every box of candles that the store had to the front counter.

“You look uptight. Relax man; it’s only until morning. That’s what, ten hours at the most? They know that we’re working.” The casual stroll that Peter normally carried himself with was interrupted by a very noticeably conscious effort to preserve the precarious balance of his caloric masterpiece. “But yeah, those candles would be pretty cool wouldn’t they? We could have like a séance or whatever you call it.”

The thought of adding an occult spin to the already bleak situation only compounded upon Ryan’s already mounting fear rendering him unable to speak besides a small hoarse yeah that ended a foot out of his mouth. He tried to put their situation into easier terms than those he was dealing with but in the end it all came down to him being trapped in a dim little shop with a roommate who only mocked him with his foil-like courage in the face of his cowardice.

Beer. Yes, that had to be of some use to him in this situation. Alcohol would let him relax, he might even be able to get some sleep and just be woken by the owner having someone dig them out from under the snow that was piling on the building by the inch. He went to the back of the store and pulled out two six-packs of cheap beer. When he returned to his post he offered Paul a six-pack, he declined. Taking this upon himself as a challenge Ryan had within the hour taken down nine of the twelve that he had brought up with him. It was well into one in the morning and his hunger had started to kick in. Paul had slunk off somewhere and probably fallen asleep under some obscure cabinet in the store. Shoving the thought of his friend out of his mind Ryan staggered down the aisles looking for something suitable for quenching his mounting appetite.

When he had reached the chips and pretzels Ryan slipped to the ground with a dull thud and feigned at a grab for something to eat. Within moments the upper half of his body lurched to the right and Ryan unleashed a torrent of vomit on the ground beside himself, only moments before he lurched for a second time, this time instead of vomiting, landing in the puddle he had created only moments earlier.

Shadows danced on the ceiling sending images of fiendish creatures across Ryan’s field of vision. The lake of vomit that he vaguely remembered laying down was cleaned up and the lights that he had dimmed were completely off. The light that cast the eerie pictures came from a large patch of candles that had been set up in the center of the counter. All but dragging himself to investigate the scene he found the candles blazing and Paul nowhere in sight. Ryan could not make out the clock but by the way that all of the candles were down to mounds of flaming wax he could postulate that it had been quite some time since he had last seen the waking world.

“Paul?” The voice that ensued from him sounded pleading and all too pathetic for Ryan’s liking. In an instant, as if in answer to his call music began to drift down from the speakers in the ceiling. It was “Horse Latitudes” by the Doors. The disturbing melody with Jim Morrison’s droning ominous narration added just one more thing to the ever increasing aura of campy horror that was none the less beginning to really wear at Ryan’s resolve to remain at least somewhat valiant in the face of one of his greatest personal fears.

Staggering to his feet Ryan scanned the room trying to reckon a semblance of his friend. The flickering of the candles only served to play tricks on his mind. Instead of his friend he saw fiends and devils. Every time the song playing would loop he would feel like every time the words were more and more meant for him.

His agitation grew both due to the unfolding scene and at Paul in particular. Ryan’s thoughts began to race. It was all Paul’s fault. He was doing this to him. He was trying to drive Ryan mad.

Flicker.

Ryan awoke once more to the candles having burnt themselves out.

Flicker.

The lights were back on, just dim enough to let his eyes see vauge outlines. The Doors’ “Horse Latitudes” was still playing faintly overhead.

Flicker.

Paul! Damn you come out here and

Flicker.

With all of the resolve left in his body Ryan went behind the counter and grabbed the revolver that the owner kept.

Flicker.

You can’t hide forever Paul!

Flicker.

Ryan stood in the middle of the store laughing a mirthless cackle.

Flicker.

There you are!

Flicker.

Paul knelt before Ryan begging for his life appealing to all his senses of human compassion and decency.

Flicker.

BANG!

The buzzer gave off two shrill blares jolting the sleepy young student from a deep sleep. With a lazy and exhausted lumber he made his tired way over to the intercom.

Who is it?”

“Police. Can we come up and have a few words with you?”

The tired young man allowed the officers entrance and went over to his coffee machine and started a pot to brew while he waited for them to ascend the several flights of stairs. A million things began to flood through his mind as he waited for them to arrive.

By the time the three of them sat down they all held mugs of coffee. The officers looked about as if they were nervous about what was in the midst of transgressing. Finally after a long suspense filled silence one of the one in uniform spoke.

“Now Paul, I’m going to have you look at some pictures and you need to tell me if you recognize who you see in them, ok?”

Paul nearly dropped his coffee as he barely managed to eke out the words of “Yeah, that’s him. That’s Ryan.”

After he had recovered from the shock of finding his long time friend and roommate dead he looked at the officers and asked what the cause of death was.

“Suicide, seems he couldn’t take being snowed in all alone overnight.”

THE END