Gas Station Clerk

A micropasta I've been juggling for a bit.
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The gas station guy never looks at you.
In fact, ever since he began taking the night shifts, you don’t think you've ever so much as seen him move. One day your buddy Greg was working the counters, exchanging laughs and quips with you every other day like normal humans do. Next thing you know, this absolute statue of an individual has replaced him. Your buddy Greg hasn’t contacted you since last Monday. In fact his apartment complex has been shutdown for “renovations”. Now this uncomfortable man is your new ‘friend’. He never takes your money. Doesn't hand back change. Never says hello or goodbye. Just looks off to the side, mouth pressed tightly in what might be a smile or stifled laugh or exasperated sigh that never leaks out.
Sometimes you're just there to grab a strudel or water bottle to help you get through another 2 hours. But it's always long enough to let you see the tiny red flags form one giant, neon warning sign.
The gas station guy's skin is as sickly as the grimy lights that started flickering ever since he took the shift. He looks like he hasn't slept in weeks - maybe even months. And his eyes... goddamn, his eyes. Zero eye contact. Just constantly locked at the east doors. Even if you walk in front of him - hell, why would you? - it doesn't seem that he notices you at all. You start to wonder if maybe this is just an elaborate prank to get you to spaz out. Or maybe he's on drugs. That's fairly normal on these streets, right? Crack addicts can get jobs too.
But it's every other goddamn day with this freak. He never moves. Just stares with zero readable emotion at the doorway you came in, and continues shooting ghostly lasers at your back as you leave.
Sometimes, as you brusquely move for the automatic doors - refusing to so much as even hazard a glance behind - you think you can hear a small, rattling breath.
Maybe you're just paranoid. Maybe he has social anxiety to an unbearable degree. But then again, why would anyone get a job if that were the case. How would they even live?
...Does he even live at all?
One night, you’re forced to pull over for gas on your way to a family member’s house. There he is, standing stock still against background buzz. 
You walk in reluctantly, since your family asked you to bring home some snacks. You can’t help but pass this uncomfortable creature’s gaze as you quickly scurry past the counter. You try to be as quick as quiet as possible, but every noise you make sends your attention back to the front.
Did he notice you? Is he mad you're wasting so much time? You can’t tell from the furtive glance you cast forward. You swear the clerk is swaying in an unknown breeze, but in actuality he’s still rooted in place. 
You approach the counter with snacks and money in hand. You reach out to drop the stack of grimy quarters onto the counter where they’ll be taken by someone other than HIM, someone who is forced to replace this homunculus every evening.
In your sweaty state, you accidentally trip and latch on to the card rack sitting on the counter. As gift cards fly everywhere, you flail and steady your grip, yelping in fear.
In a panic you look down and realize your fingers are bloody, running with red rivers. Did you hurt yourself? No.
You look back at the clerk, whom in your wild mistake, you slashed at with the tips of your fingernails. He has 2 vertical slashes trailing deep down his cheek to the edge of his mouth.
His mouth never falters. He never looks at you.
You bluster out a “sorry” before sprinting at the door to your waiting car.
The gas station clerk doesn’t react. He never looks at you. 
 
Image also drawn by myself
Category:Disappearances
Category:Weird
Category:William See