# 7 True Burger King Horror Stories For Sleep A Night You'll Never Forget!

An episode of [AfterDark Reddits](https://invisiblenetwork.ai/podcast/1896809423), 14 Oct 2026, 53 min.

Audio: https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/74987433/073_7_true_burger_king_horror_stories_for_sleep_a_night_you_ll_never_forget.mp3



## Transcript

[0:03] Speaker 1: I used to believe that if I worked hard and
[0:05] Speaker 1: stayed kind, things would eventually get better. That's what my
[0:09] Speaker 1: mom always said, just keep going. But now I'm 23,
[0:14] Speaker 1: barely holding my life together, and I'm starting to wonder
[0:17] Speaker 1: if better is just a myth people tell themselves to
[0:21] Speaker 1: make it through the week. I live in a studio
[0:23] Speaker 1: that costs more than it's worth, $ 950 a month for
[0:25] Speaker 1: a cracked window, bad plumbing, and walls so thin I
[0:30] Speaker 1: can hear the neighbors arguing about who finished the cereal.
[0:34] Speaker 1: I was supposed to have a roommate, but she bailed
[0:36] Speaker 1: two months ago, left a note and a half-empty bottle
[0:39] Speaker 1: of cheap vodka. I work the overnight shift at a
[0:43] Speaker 1: diner on 82nd, mostly pouring coffee for night drivers and
[0:47] Speaker 1: the occasional guy who wants to tell me his life
[0:49] Speaker 1: story in exchange for a $ 2 tip. My boss Keith
[0:53] Speaker 1: started cutting my hours last month after I told him
[0:55] Speaker 1: I wouldn't pick up his nephew's weekend shifts. That kid
[0:59] Speaker 1: shows up late every night and smells like weed. But
[1:02] Speaker 1: he gets a free pass because he's family. To top
[1:05] Speaker 1: it off, my older brother Marcus is crashing on my futon.
[1:08] Speaker 1: He lost his construction job, says it wasn't his fault.
[1:11] Speaker 1: But I've seen the empties in the trash, the way
[1:13] Speaker 1: he mumbles in his sleep, the way he started snapping
[1:16] Speaker 1: at me when I ask about job leads. My bike
[1:19] Speaker 1: got stolen last week. Cut lock and all. So now
[1:23] Speaker 1: I walk home from work. Eight blocks through the cold
[1:26] Speaker 1: past shuttered shops and busted streetlights. Most nights I just
[1:29] Speaker 1: want to scream but there's no one listening. Tonight something
[1:33] Speaker 1: felt different. Worse. Like I wasn't just walking home. Like
[1:37] Speaker 1: I was being hunted. The fog was thick tonight, clinging
[1:41] Speaker 1: to the ground like a secret. I zipped my jacket
[1:45] Speaker 1: up to my chin and shoved my hands deep into
[1:47] Speaker 1: my pockets. The tips of my fingers already stiff from
[1:51] Speaker 1: the cold. My boots made soft crunching sounds over the
[1:55] Speaker 1: icy sidewalk. But that wasn't the only noise I heard. Footsteps.
[2:00] Speaker 1: Behind me. At first, I tried to convince myself it
[2:04] Speaker 1: was just someone else headed home. This isn't a good neighborhood,
[2:08] Speaker 1: but it's not a war zone either. People walk here
[2:11] Speaker 1: especially at night. But these footsteps matched mine. Step for step.
[2:17] Speaker 1: And when I slowed down near the closed bakery, they
[2:20] Speaker 1: slowed too. I glanced over my shoulder. Two. Men. Hoodies
[2:27] Speaker 1: pulled low. Faces in shadow. Not talking, just walking. Too close.
[2:33] Speaker 1: I told myself not to panic. Maybe they were just
[2:36] Speaker 1: going the same way. Maybe I was being paranoid. But
[2:39] Speaker 1: that survival voice in the back of my brain, the
[2:42] Speaker 1: one my mom planted there when I was 12 and
[2:44] Speaker 1: started taking the bus alone, was screaming. I picked up
[2:49] Speaker 1: my pace, heart thudding against my ribs. The diner was
[2:53] Speaker 1: four blocks behind me. My apartment was four blocks ahead.
[2:58] Speaker 1: And these two strangers? They were still behind me. I
[3:02] Speaker 1: spotted the 7-Eleven sign up ahead, glowing like a cheap lighthouse.
[3:07] Speaker 1: Without thinking, I darted inside. It smelled like burnt hot
[3:10] Speaker 1: dogs and mop water. I grabbed the nearest thing, a
[3:13] Speaker 1: knockoff energy drink, and went to the counter. Hector, the
[3:17] Speaker 1: overnight guy, barely looked up. You good? He asked, voice low. Yeah.
[3:24] Speaker 1: I lied. Just cold. I stayed there ten minutes, pretending
[3:27] Speaker 1: to text on my cracked phone. But when I peeked
[3:30] Speaker 1: out the window, they were still there. Waiting. Watching. I
[3:36] Speaker 1: stood in that store like it was my last safe
[3:39] Speaker 1: place on earth. My palms were sweaty, but my fingers
[3:42] Speaker 1: were ice cold. I thought about asking Hector to call someone,
[3:46] Speaker 1: but who? The cops wouldn't show up for two guys
[3:49] Speaker 1: standing on a public sidewalk. And besides, they hadn't done
[3:52] Speaker 1: anything yet. That's the trick. Nothing happens until everything does. Eventually,
[3:57] Speaker 1: I had to leave. I couldn't stay in the store
[3:59] Speaker 1: all night. I looked down 82nd, the main street home,
[4:03] Speaker 1: and saw them still there, leaning on the lamppost, smoking,
[4:07] Speaker 1: talking quietly. So I did something stupid. I took the
[4:11] Speaker 1: long way. Behind the laundromat, there's an alley that cuts
[4:15] Speaker 1: two blocks off the walk. I used to use it
[4:18] Speaker 1: all the time before the bike got stolen. It's not
[4:20] Speaker 1: well lit, but it's usually quiet. I figured if I
[4:24] Speaker 1: could just slip through fast enough, I'd shake them. I
[4:28] Speaker 1: pulled up my hood and walked quickly, trying not to
[4:30] Speaker 1: look back. The buildings loomed over me like silent witnesses,
[4:34] Speaker 1: their windows dark. Garbage bins lined one side, the other
[4:37] Speaker 1: was a cinderblock wall tagged with graffiti. Then I heard it.
[4:41] Speaker 1: A laugh. I froze. Turned. They were standing at the
[4:46] Speaker 1: mouth of the alley. Not running. Not rushing. Just standing.
[4:51] Speaker 1: One of them stepped forward. Hey, sweetheart, he called out,
[4:55] Speaker 1: his voice low and oily. You lost? I backed up
[4:59] Speaker 1: a step. My heartbeat filled my ears. Where are you
[5:03] Speaker 1: headed in such a hurry? I didn't answer. I ran.
[5:07] Speaker 1: My boots slipped on a patch of ice as I
[5:09] Speaker 1: tore through the alley. I caught myself on a dumpster,
[5:12] Speaker 1: the cold metal biting into my palm. My breath came
[5:17] Speaker 1: in clouds, fast and shallow. I didn't dare look back.
[5:21] Speaker 1: I hit the sidewalk running, cut across a side street
[5:24] Speaker 1: past a bus stop bench half buried in frost. I
[5:27] Speaker 1: hoped they didn't follow. I hoped they weren't faster. I
[5:31] Speaker 1: didn't hear footsteps behind me, but that didn't mean they
[5:34] Speaker 1: weren't there. Every dark corner, every parked car felt like
[5:38] Speaker 1: a trap. My keys were already in my hand, gripped
[5:42] Speaker 1: tight like a weapon. I could see my building ahead.
[5:46] Speaker 1: Three stories of peeling paint and broken buzzers. I reached
[5:50] Speaker 1: the front door, fumbled the key. Dropped it. Swore. Hands shaking,
[5:55] Speaker 1: I got it in the lock, shoved the door open
[5:57] Speaker 1: and slammed it shut behind me. Deadbolt clicked. Chain latched.
[6:02] Speaker 1: My chest heaved. I slid to the floor, my back
[6:05] Speaker 1: against the door. Through the peephole, I saw them. Across.
[6:10] Speaker 1: The street. Just... standing there. Watching. One of them lit
[6:17] Speaker 1: a cigarette. The flame flashed across his face. Thin. pale,
[6:22] Speaker 1: with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. They didn't
[6:26] Speaker 1: move for a full minute. Then they turned and walked
[6:29] Speaker 1: away like it was just another night. But it wasn't.
[6:33] Speaker 1: Not for me. I didn't sleep that night. Marcus was
[6:36] Speaker 1: snoring on the couch, stinking of beer and regret. I
[6:39] Speaker 1: wanted to shake him, scream at him, do something, be useful.
[6:44] Speaker 1: But I didn't. The next morning I called the diner
[6:47] Speaker 1: and asked Keith for day shifts. They're full, he said.
[6:51] Speaker 1: You're lucky to have ours at all. Lucky. I stared
[6:56] Speaker 1: at my bank app. 1842. No pepper spray. No Uber.
[7:01] Speaker 1: No safety. That afternoon, I walked to the Dollar Tree
[7:05] Speaker 1: and bought the biggest keychain I could find. Something to
[7:08] Speaker 1: hold in my hand and swing if I ever needed to.
[7:11] Speaker 1: The next night I walked home again. Different jacket. Same fear.
[7:16] Speaker 1: Every noise made my skin crawl. Every shadow looked like them,
[7:20] Speaker 1: but I walked anyway. Because I had to. Because there's
[7:24] Speaker 1: no one else paying my bills, watching my back, or
[7:26] Speaker 1: holding my hand. People think bravery is some big, dramatic thing.
[7:31] Speaker 1: It's not. Sometimes it's just walking home in the dark. Again.
[7:37] Speaker 1: And again. And never letting them see you break. How
[7:46] Speaker 1: did it come to this? That's what I kept asking
[7:49] Speaker 1: myself night after night. flipping stale whoppers and dodging leering
[7:53] Speaker 1: eyes through a grease-streaked drive-thru window. I used to think
[7:56] Speaker 1: I'd have a future, college, career, something my parents could
[8:01] Speaker 1: be proud of. But here I was, 20 years old,
[8:05] Speaker 1: pulling graveyard shifts at Burger King off Maplewood Avenue in Trenton.
[8:09] Speaker 1: I dropped out of community college six months ago. The
[8:12] Speaker 1: bills kept stacking up. Textbooks, rent, gas. My parents were furious.
[8:17] Speaker 1: My dad stopped speaking to me for a while and
[8:19] Speaker 1: my mom just kept sighing like I was a disappointment
[8:22] Speaker 1: she didn't know how to fix. I thought a job,
[8:25] Speaker 1: any job, would make things better. But this job, it's
[8:29] Speaker 1: just survival. The late shift starts at 10pm and ends
[8:32] Speaker 1: at 4am. Most nights it's quiet. A few truckers roll through.
[8:37] Speaker 1: Some factory workers grab food after their shift. Then there
[8:40] Speaker 1: are the creeps. The ones who stare a little too long.
[8:43] Speaker 1: Who ask for your number with a grin that makes
[8:45] Speaker 1: your skin crawl. And tonight... Tonight was different. The bus
[8:52] Speaker 1: doesn't run past midnight, which means unless someone's willing to
[8:55] Speaker 1: drive me home. I walk the two miles to my apartment.
[8:59] Speaker 1: Last month, my car died in the middle of Broad Street,
[9:02] Speaker 1: and I didn't have the cash to fix it. I've
[9:04] Speaker 1: been walking ever since. To top it off, my ex, Derek,
[9:09] Speaker 1: keeps texting me drunk threats and voicemails that swing between
[9:12] Speaker 1: love and hate. He's unhinged. but no one cares unless
[9:17] Speaker 1: someone ends up in a hospital. So yeah, I asked myself,
[9:22] Speaker 1: how did I end up here alone behind a register
[9:26] Speaker 1: with no backup and no way out. But that night,
[9:31] Speaker 1: that night changed everything. It was cold for mid November,
[9:36] Speaker 1: the kind of cold that seeps through your jacket and
[9:38] Speaker 1: settles into your bones. The store was dead quiet. Donna,
[9:41] Speaker 1: my manager was in the back office pretending to do inventory.
[9:45] Speaker 1: which basically meant she was scrolling through Facebook and drinking
[9:48] Speaker 1: lukewarm coffee. At 2.17 a.m., the bell on the drive-thru chimed.
[9:54] Speaker 1: I glanced at the monitor. A rusted navy blue Ford
[9:58] Speaker 1: Taurus rolled up to the window. The guy inside looked
[10:01] Speaker 1: like he hadn't slept in days. Greasy black hair, hollow cheeks,
[10:06] Speaker 1: yellow teeth. He was staring at me like I was
[10:08] Speaker 1: a bug under glass. I handed him his whopper, combo
[10:12] Speaker 1: trying not to look at him too long. That's when
[10:14] Speaker 1: he said it. You got real pretty hands, he rasped.
[10:18] Speaker 1: Bet they're soft. I gave a nervous laugh, heart beating faster. Uh, thanks.
[10:25] Speaker 1: Enjoy your meal. But he didn't drive away. He just
[10:28] Speaker 1: sat there still staring. His eyes were dark, sunken, almost vacant. Sir?
[10:35] Speaker 1: I asked, forcing my voice to sound casual. He didn't
[10:38] Speaker 1: move until the guy behind him honked. Then he smiled,
[10:42] Speaker 1: slow and deliberate, and finally pulled off. I tried to
[10:46] Speaker 1: shake it off, told myself he was just a weird drunk.
[10:50] Speaker 1: but something about the way he looked at me stuck,
[10:53] Speaker 1: like he'd already decided something about me. An hour later,
[10:57] Speaker 1: he came back. This time he ordered just a coffee.
[11:02] Speaker 1: I opened the window, trying to act unfazed. What's a
[11:06] Speaker 1: sweet thing like you doing out so late? He asked.
[11:09] Speaker 1: His breath stank of booze. You scared being here alone?
[11:14] Speaker 1: I'm not alone. I lied. My manager's here. He leaned closer. Yeah? Where?
[11:23] Speaker 1: I didn't answer. He just smiled again. I'll see you soon,
[11:27] Speaker 1: pretty thing. Then drove off. And I knew he meant it.
[11:33] Speaker 1: When I told Donna, she barely looked up from her phone.
[11:36] Speaker 1: Probably just drunk. Don't engage with him. That guy came
[11:40] Speaker 1: back twice, said he'd see me again. What if he does?
[11:43] Speaker 1: Donna rolled her eyes. We get weirdos all the time, Jamie.
[11:47] Speaker 1: As long as he's not touching you, we can't do anything.
[11:50] Speaker 1: That's stuck in my head. As long as he's not
[11:53] Speaker 1: touching you. At 3.30 a.m., the bell over the door jingled.
[11:58] Speaker 1: I looked up. And there he was. No car. Just
[12:02] Speaker 1: standing there in that yellowing overhead light like he belonged.
[12:05] Speaker 1: He didn't speak right away. Just looked me over. Then
[12:09] Speaker 1: he smiled. You look even prettier up close. I felt
[12:13] Speaker 1: my stomach drop. I glanced toward the back, but Donna
[12:17] Speaker 1: hadn't come out. The cameras were rolling, but no one
[12:20] Speaker 1: ever watched them in real time. He ordered a small fry.
[12:24] Speaker 1: I punched it in, hands trembling. When I handed it over,
[12:28] Speaker 1: he grabbed my wrist. Why don't you come take a
[12:31] Speaker 1: ride with me? I'll show you a real good. Time!
[12:35] Speaker 1: I tried to yank my hand back, but his grip
[12:37] Speaker 1: was like iron. Then finally, finally, Donna walked in. Sir,
[12:42] Speaker 1: you need to leave. Now. He didn't flinch. Or what?
[12:47] Speaker 1: Donna grabbed the phone. I'll call the cops. He snarled
[12:50] Speaker 1: and lunged across the counter. It all happened in seconds.
[12:54] Speaker 1: Donna shouted. I screamed. The man shoved the register and
[12:57] Speaker 1: lunged at her like he'd done it before. My brain
[13:00] Speaker 1: shut down. I grabbed the nearest thing, a fire extinguisher
[13:04] Speaker 1: by the fry station. My hands were shaking so badly
[13:08] Speaker 1: I could barely lift it, but I was ready to swing.
[13:11] Speaker 1: Donna managed to push him back into a booth, knocking
[13:14] Speaker 1: over a tray tower. That's when I heard heavy boots.
[13:17] Speaker 1: Some trucker who'd been using the bathroom saw the commotion
[13:20] Speaker 1: and jumped in. He tackled the guy to the floor
[13:23] Speaker 1: and pinned him down with one knee on his back.
[13:25] Speaker 1: The sirens came five minutes later. Felt like an hour.
[13:29] Speaker 1: They cuffed him, dragged him outside. When they searched his car,
[13:33] Speaker 1: I saw the officer's faces change. They pulled out two
[13:37] Speaker 1: hunting knives, a roll of duct tape, and a crumpled notebook.
[13:42] Speaker 1: Inside were names, descriptions, times. One of them read, Jamie BK,
[13:48] Speaker 1: hands like glass, alone most nights. My whole body went cold.
[13:53] Speaker 1: The officer looked at me with pity, like I was
[13:55] Speaker 1: just another almost statistic. You were lucky, he said. But
[14:00] Speaker 1: it didn't feel like luck. It felt like I'd been marked.
[14:04] Speaker 1: I didn't go back the next day. I texted Donna
[14:07] Speaker 1: that I quit. She didn't respond. No apology. No check-in.
[14:12] Speaker 1: Just silence. A week later, I heard the guy made bail.
[14:17] Speaker 1: I threw up when I read the article online. Local
[14:20] Speaker 1: man charged with assault released on bond pending trial. No picture,
[14:25] Speaker 1: no warning. Just out. My rent's due in five days.
[14:30] Speaker 1: I've got 23 dollars in my checking account. Derek keeps
[14:34] Speaker 1: texting me. You need me yet? Every night before bed,
[14:38] Speaker 1: I check the locks. I sleep with my shoes on,
[14:42] Speaker 1: just in case. People think the scary part is the attack.
[14:46] Speaker 1: It's not. The scariest part is what comes after the silence,
[14:51] Speaker 1: the way people move on. Like it didn't happen. I
[14:54] Speaker 1: wish I could say I felt strong, brave, but I
[14:59] Speaker 1: just feel tired. I think about that man's eyes about
[15:04] Speaker 1: how he didn't look angry. He looked certain, like he
[15:08] Speaker 1: was entitled to me. And I think about how close
[15:11] Speaker 1: he got. He never got what he came for, but
[15:14] Speaker 1: he came close too close. and that's something I'll carry
[15:19] Speaker 1: with me forever. You don't forget the way December feels
[15:26] Speaker 1: in Barrow. The kind of cold that chews through your
[15:29] Speaker 1: clothes bites your bones. The kind of dark that never lifts.
[15:33] Speaker 1: I was nine the winter it happened, and sometimes I
[15:36] Speaker 1: think that's the year everything inside me froze too. We'd
[15:40] Speaker 1: taken a rare trip down to Fairbanks, six hours each way,
[15:43] Speaker 1: to pick up my dad's tools from a shipping depot.
[15:46] Speaker 1: He was a trucker, gone weeks at a time, and
[15:49] Speaker 1: Mom had picked up extra shifts at the clinic just
[15:51] Speaker 1: to keep the heat on. She hated long drives in
[15:55] Speaker 1: the winter, but the roads were clear enough that day. Elise,
[15:59] Speaker 1: my sister, spent most of the trip texting, her boyfriend,
[16:03] Speaker 1: and rolling her eyes at me. On the way back,
[16:06] Speaker 1: we stopped at the Burger King on the edge of nowhere.
[16:09] Speaker 1: It was 4.30 p.m., but already dark enough that the
[16:11] Speaker 1: parking lot lights cast long, ghostly shadows. Inside, everything smelled
[16:16] Speaker 1: like grease and old fries. I sat by the window
[16:20] Speaker 1: while Mom ordered. That's when I saw him, a man
[16:23] Speaker 1: in a shredded parka sitting in the far booth. His
[16:26] Speaker 1: face was pale and caved in, like it had collapsed
[16:29] Speaker 1: under its own weight. His eyes found mine. Didn't blink.
[16:34] Speaker 1: Then his mouth stretched into a grin, whiter than it
[16:37] Speaker 1: should have been, revealing gums as black as tar and
[16:41] Speaker 1: teeth like burnt wood. I tugged at Elise's sleeve, trying
[16:44] Speaker 1: to whisper, but when she finally looked, the booth was empty,
[16:50] Speaker 1: nothing but a half-eaten whopper and maggots crawling through the bun.
[16:55] Speaker 1: She laughed, said I was being a freak, but I
[16:58] Speaker 1: knew what I saw, and I wish I hadn't. Back home,
[17:03] Speaker 1: it was even colder. The furnace had been acting up again,
[17:07] Speaker 1: and we had to plug in two space heaters just
[17:09] Speaker 1: to make the living room bearable. Our windows were rimmed
[17:12] Speaker 1: with frost thick enough to scrape, and the inside of
[17:15] Speaker 1: my coat was damp from the long ride. My boots
[17:18] Speaker 1: were held together with duct tape and hope. They squeaked
[17:21] Speaker 1: when I walked, always leaving little trails of melted snow on.
[17:25] Speaker 1: The floor that Elise yelled at me for. She was
[17:28] Speaker 1: supposed to watch me when mom worked doubles, but she
[17:31] Speaker 1: spent most nights on the landline or glued to the
[17:33] Speaker 1: old desktop, messaging boys. I had no friends at school.
[17:38] Speaker 1: Being quiet, poor, and weird was enough to make me
[17:40] Speaker 1: a target. So I kept to myself. Drew monsters in
[17:45] Speaker 1: my notebook. Things with too many eyes. Broken mouths. Bent bodies.
[17:50] Speaker 1: Pretended they were stronger than I felt. It was 3 p.m.
[17:54] Speaker 1: the next day when I saw him again. I was
[17:58] Speaker 1: eating cereal in front of the TV when something moved
[18:01] Speaker 1: past the window. Not fast. Slow. Like it wanted to
[18:05] Speaker 1: be seen. I looked. There he was. Standing in the snow.
[18:10] Speaker 1: The same old man from Burger King, paralyzed like a
[18:14] Speaker 1: bad dream. His face slack, eyes glassy, smile frozen across
[18:18] Speaker 1: his face. His parka hung in tatters, soaked, through with ice. Elise,
[18:24] Speaker 1: I called. She came in annoyed. What? There's someone outside.
[18:29] Speaker 1: She glanced, then scoffed. That's just Mr. Haskins, probably checking
[18:34] Speaker 1: the pipes again. Don't be such a baby. But I
[18:37] Speaker 1: knew Mr. Haskins, and that wasn't him. That wasn't anyone.
[18:42] Speaker 1: Mom called later that night to say she had to
[18:44] Speaker 1: stay for a second shift. Some guy slipped on ice
[18:48] Speaker 1: and broke his hip. Elise groaned and ordered me to
[18:51] Speaker 1: take out the trash before it got too late. I argued,
[18:55] Speaker 1: but she shut the door behind me anyway. Outside, the
[18:58] Speaker 1: cold was different. Harsher. It wasn't just temperature. It hurt
[19:02] Speaker 1: to breathe. The sky was pitch, the snow untouched since morning.
[19:08] Speaker 1: I dragged the bag to the bin near the edge
[19:10] Speaker 1: of our Yard under the weak motion light that flickered
[19:13] Speaker 1: like it was scared to. That's when I heard them. Footsteps. Sloppy.
[19:19] Speaker 1: Wet sounding. Like someone walking barefoot in slush. I turned.
[19:24] Speaker 1: And he was there. The man from the booth. But
[19:27] Speaker 1: he wasn't alone. Two women stood beside him. Naked. Their
[19:31] Speaker 1: skin was sagging and gray. Stretched over sharp bones. Hair
[19:35] Speaker 1: thin and wet. Hanging like kelp. And their mouths, God.
[19:40] Speaker 1: stretched impossibly wide, the same smile, that impossible smile. One
[19:46] Speaker 1: of them raised her hand, fingers long and cracked. she
[19:50] Speaker 1: motioned for me a slow curl come here I dropped
[19:55] Speaker 1: the bag I ran I slammed the door so hard
[19:59] Speaker 1: it shook the walls Elise yelled from the hallway but
[20:02] Speaker 1: I couldn't speak my lungs burned my heart thudded against
[20:06] Speaker 1: my ribs like it wanted out Elise I gasped. They're back.
[20:11] Speaker 1: The old man. He's outside. And two women. They were. Liam, what?
[20:17] Speaker 1: The hell are you talking about? She snapped, but then. Thud.
[20:21] Speaker 1: The window. Something hit it. Hard. We turned to look.
[20:26] Speaker 1: A long crack had formed across the glass, running like
[20:29] Speaker 1: a vein. Elise went pale. She grabbed the phone and
[20:32] Speaker 1: dialed 911. Her hands were shaking so bad she almost
[20:35] Speaker 1: dropped it. Someone's outside our house. Something hit our window.
[20:39] Speaker 1: They said a car was on the way, but the
[20:40] Speaker 1: roads were frozen over and a blizzard was kicking in.
[20:44] Speaker 1: It would take time. I stood in the hallway, holding
[20:47] Speaker 1: the fireplace poker like it would actually protect me. Elise
[20:50] Speaker 1: locked every door, shoved a chair under the knob. The
[20:53] Speaker 1: figures didn't try again, but they didn't leave either. I
[20:56] Speaker 1: felt them, watching. When the cops finally arrived, the storm
[21:01] Speaker 1: was in full swing. They came in covered in frost,
[21:05] Speaker 1: boots clomping, through our front entry like they owned the place.
[21:08] Speaker 1: They found no footprints, no broken glass. Nothing but a
[21:11] Speaker 1: single torn strip of flannel on the ground, frozen stiff,
[21:15] Speaker 1: soaked in something dark, and stuck to the cracked window.
[21:19] Speaker 1: A Burger King napkin, frozen in place, smeared with saliva
[21:23] Speaker 1: and something yellow. The officers shared a look. Probably, just
[21:29] Speaker 1: kids pulling a prank. Don't worry, folks. But I wasn't fooled.
[21:34] Speaker 1: No kid smiled like that. After that night, I stopped
[21:38] Speaker 1: sleeping with the lights off. Elise never talked about it again.
[21:42] Speaker 1: She left at 18, moved south, never looked back. Mom
[21:46] Speaker 1: chalked it up to nightmares and stress. Said I needed
[21:49] Speaker 1: to stop drawing monsters. But they never really left. Even now,
[21:53] Speaker 1: as a grown man, I wake up sweating. Convinced, I
[21:56] Speaker 1: hear whispers by the window. I can't walk into a
[21:59] Speaker 1: Burger King without checking every booth. And in the long
[22:02] Speaker 1: winter nights when the dark hangs heavy, I still see
[22:05] Speaker 1: them sometimes. Just standing there. Smiling. Working the closing shift
[22:14] Speaker 1: at the airport way Burger King in Fairbanks wasn't glamorous.
[22:18] Speaker 1: But it paid just enough to keep gas in my
[22:20] Speaker 1: beater Subaru and snacks in my backpack. October 2019 was
[22:25] Speaker 1: colder than usual. The kind of cold that knifed through
[22:29] Speaker 1: your work pants and settled deep in your spine. I'd
[22:32] Speaker 1: stand under the fryer vent on breaks just to feel
[22:34] Speaker 1: alive again. The place attracted all kinds. Drifters who smelled
[22:38] Speaker 1: like gasoline. Truckers trying to stay awake. Students too broke
[22:42] Speaker 1: for Taco Bell. But none of them stood out like
[22:45] Speaker 1: Tyler Graves. Every Thursday, 1.45 a.m. sharp, Black Dodge Charger
[22:52] Speaker 1: growling at the window. He always ordered the same thing.
[22:56] Speaker 1: Bacon King with extra mayo, large onion rings, and four
[22:59] Speaker 1: Hershey pies. The weird part? He never took the pies.
[23:03] Speaker 1: Every time we'd find them smashed in the parking lot,
[23:05] Speaker 1: still in their boxes. run over or stomped flat. Tyler
[23:09] Speaker 1: always paid. In damp, greasy bills. They reeked of motor
[23:13] Speaker 1: oil and something older. Something that lingered in your nostrils
[23:17] Speaker 1: long after the window slid shut. One night I was
[23:20] Speaker 1: wiping down the window and caught him staring. Not at me.
[23:24] Speaker 1: Through me. Then he leaned out and said soft and
[23:28] Speaker 1: slow like a dare. You're too smart for this grease trap.
[23:31] Speaker 1: Want to see something real? I laughed. Said I had
[23:34] Speaker 1: to mop the floors. He laughed too but it didn't
[23:36] Speaker 1: feel friendly. The next Thursday, he left me a Burger
[23:39] Speaker 1: King receipt folded into an origami swan. On the back,
[23:43] Speaker 1: written in sharpie. Midnight. Eastside Bridge. Don't flake. And for
[23:49] Speaker 1: some reason, I didn't. The first. Few nights out with
[23:52] Speaker 1: Tyler felt like biting into something spicy. You weren't sure
[23:55] Speaker 1: if it was dangerous or just addictive. Tutuping our principal's
[23:59] Speaker 1: house was childish, but I'd never laughed that hard in months.
[24:03] Speaker 1: Fireworks in the dumpster behind BK. Stupid. Hilarious. The rush
[24:09] Speaker 1: made my skin hum. Tyler was magnetic, like he carried
[24:12] Speaker 1: a weather system around him. Hot. Cold. Unpredictable. He'd talk
[24:18] Speaker 1: big about escaping Fairbanks, how this town was a frozen
[24:21] Speaker 1: purgatory for the invisible. I didn't know what that meant,
[24:26] Speaker 1: but it sounded true. He showed me his lockpick set
[24:29] Speaker 1: one night. Real polished stuff. Said he stole it from
[24:32] Speaker 1: his uncle. Then came the Polaroids. They started simple. Stray cats, dumpsters, rooftops.
[24:38] Speaker 1: Then they got darker. One showed a rabbit clearly alive.
[24:43] Speaker 1: The next, gutted, with something written in sharpie on the fur.
[24:48] Speaker 1: Truth is ugly. I asked him about it once. He
[24:51] Speaker 1: just smiled and changed the subject. He kept a notebook,
[24:55] Speaker 1: filled with BK receipts and strange doodles. Figures with huge
[24:58] Speaker 1: teeth and no eyes. Symbols that looked like crosses but
[25:01] Speaker 1: twisted wrong. Some pages had employee names, including mine. You.
[25:08] Speaker 1: Always work the fryer on Tuesdays, he said once. You're precise.
[25:12] Speaker 1: I didn't like how he said that. I didn't like
[25:14] Speaker 1: how he looked at people either. Like they were meat.
[25:17] Speaker 1: But I kept hanging out. Because I didn't have much else.
[25:22] Speaker 1: Because he made life feel like it wasn't happening in
[25:24] Speaker 1: slow motion. Then came the party invite. Midnight game, he said.
[25:30] Speaker 1: Bring a lighter. And trust. I should have said no.
[25:35] Speaker 1: The party was at an old meatpacking plant off Badger Road. Rusted.
[25:40] Speaker 1: Out long condemned and way off grid. You could smell
[25:43] Speaker 1: it before you saw it. Rot masked by bleach like
[25:46] Speaker 1: death trying to wear cologne. Tyler had strung up floodlights
[25:49] Speaker 1: and dragged in busted mannequins from who knows where. He
[25:53] Speaker 1: called it the range. Most had knife marks in their torsos.
[25:57] Speaker 1: One had its eyes replaced with Hershey pie wrappers. I
[26:01] Speaker 1: wanted to leave. Then Vince showed up. Tyler's cousin, twitchy
[26:05] Speaker 1: and mean, and behind him came Mira. Mira, the woman
[26:10] Speaker 1: who'd warm her hands by our BK vent every other night.
[26:14] Speaker 1: The one who once told me I had a kind heart.
[26:17] Speaker 1: Now she had zip ties on her wrists. What the
[26:20] Speaker 1: hell is this? I said. Tyler grinned. Moving targets, Morgan.
[26:25] Speaker 1: He tossed me a hunting knife. Let's see what you've got.
[26:29] Speaker 1: I didn't move. I couldn't. Vince pulled out his phone.
[26:34] Speaker 1: Started recording. Cole, another hanger on, egged him on, everything,
[26:40] Speaker 1: in my body, screamed. I looked at Mira. Bloodshot eyes,
[26:45] Speaker 1: cracked lips, shaking like the wind had gutted her. I
[26:48] Speaker 1: reached for my pocket. All I had was a plastic
[26:51] Speaker 1: knife from my dinner break. I moved fast, muttering apologies
[26:55] Speaker 1: as I sawed through the zip. Ties. Then I grabbed
[26:58] Speaker 1: her hand. We ran. We found an emergency exit barely
[27:01] Speaker 1: hanging on its hinges and bolted through it. The wind
[27:04] Speaker 1: outside burned my lungs raw, but the weird part was,
[27:08] Speaker 1: the alley behind the plant didn't look like an alley.
[27:11] Speaker 1: It looked like the back of Burger King, same dumpster,
[27:14] Speaker 1: same grease trail, same flickering kitchen light. I didn't ask questions.
[27:21] Speaker 1: Mira stumbled and I practically dragged her through the back door.
[27:24] Speaker 1: It opened straight into the BK kitchen, like we'd looped
[27:27] Speaker 1: through some invisible tear in the town. Everything was quiet.
[27:32] Speaker 1: The fryer off, the place still, We hid in the
[27:35] Speaker 1: walk-in freezer, locked the door from the inside. Outside, through
[27:41] Speaker 1: the condensation, I saw them. Tyler, Vince, Cole. Standing in
[27:46] Speaker 1: the kitchen, Vince lifted his phone. Recorded us. Then Tyler
[27:51] Speaker 1: stepped forward, pressed his palm flat to the freezer window. Smiled.
[27:56] Speaker 1: Mira squeezed my hand. Whispered. Thank you. I didn't say anything.
[28:02] Speaker 1: I was too busy trying not to cry. The cops
[28:06] Speaker 1: came an hour later. I had to call. Them twice.
[28:10] Speaker 1: Mira was too cold to speak. They found the meatpacking plant. Inside,
[28:14] Speaker 1: 42 used needles. A knife embedded in a mannequin. Tyler's notebook,
[28:21] Speaker 1: pages full of BK employee schedules. Mine circled in red.
[28:26] Speaker 1: One page had a photo of me, working. The fry
[28:29] Speaker 1: station taped to a dartboard. Tyler called it roleplay. Said
[28:33] Speaker 1: it was a joke. Performance art. Vince got a slap
[28:37] Speaker 1: on the wrist. Eight months. Tyler got four years. Four.
[28:42] Speaker 1: Mira vanished two days later. No ID. No family. Just
[28:47] Speaker 1: disappeared like she'd never existed. I quit the job. Burned
[28:52] Speaker 1: the uniform. Still. Flinch at the sound of Dodge engines.
[28:56] Speaker 1: Still can't look at a Hershey pie sometimes I think
[28:59] Speaker 1: I see her. Mira. In the drive-thru. Frost on her lips,
[29:03] Speaker 1: eyes glassy, mouthing two words I'll never forget. Bless you.
[29:08] Speaker 1: I keep Tyler's last receipt, folded into my senior yearbook.
[29:12] Speaker 1: The ink's all bled out. Looks like blood now. But
[29:15] Speaker 1: I keep it, just to remember what's real. Boone, North
[29:23] Speaker 1: Carolina isn't much on a map. College town, pretty foliage,
[29:26] Speaker 1: and a main drag that smells like old beer and
[29:28] Speaker 1: burnt coffee. But for me, fall 2018 was survival mode.
[29:33] Speaker 1: Senior year at App State, scraping by on a sociology
[29:36] Speaker 1: major and the 8.50 hour I made working the night
[29:39] Speaker 1: shift at the Burger King on King Street. Most kids
[29:42] Speaker 1: came in for drunk food after tailgates or to hide
[29:45] Speaker 1: from the rain with paper crowns on their heads. Then
[29:48] Speaker 1: there were the townies. Not bad folks mostly, but there
[29:51] Speaker 1: were exceptions. One stood out, Clay Briggs. They called him
[29:56] Speaker 1: the Crusher, though I never figured out why. He was
[30:00] Speaker 1: in his mid-twenties, built like a fridge, always in the
[30:02] Speaker 1: same stained jeans and work boots. Every Thursday to Sunday
[30:06] Speaker 1: around 2 a.m., he'd storm into our BK like he
[30:08] Speaker 1: owned it. His signature move was chaos, pouring milkshakes on laptops,
[30:13] Speaker 1: tearing up napkin dispensers and leaving threats smeared in ketchup
[30:17] Speaker 1: on bathroom mirrors. You looking to die? In all caps once.
[30:22] Speaker 1: Real poet. His order was always the same. Two spicy chickens,
[30:27] Speaker 1: large fries, no salt. and a high sea orange with
[30:30] Speaker 1: exactly three ice cubes. If you gave him four, he'd
[30:34] Speaker 1: throw the drink at the wall. Ask me how I know.
[30:37] Speaker 1: Nobody ever did anything about it. Cops never caught him,
[30:41] Speaker 1: and the manager, Dale, told us to just ride it out.
[30:44] Speaker 1: Said students came and went, but Clay was permanent, but...
[30:48] Speaker 1: When Clay put a freshman in the hospital for staring
[30:51] Speaker 1: too hard, I'd had enough. Me and the night crew, Danny, Coop,
[30:54] Speaker 1: and Jesus, knew something had to change. The plan we
[30:58] Speaker 1: came up with Dumb. Desperate. Kind of beautiful. It started
[31:04] Speaker 1: with a coke bottle and a whole lot of old
[31:06] Speaker 1: receipt paper. We called it Operation Flame Grilled Justice. Coop
[31:11] Speaker 1: came up with the name. He was the grill guy.
[31:14] Speaker 1: Loved his job more than most love their pets. We
[31:17] Speaker 1: each contributed something to the plan. I built the armor.
[31:21] Speaker 1: Layers of old uniforms stitched together and padded with drive-thru
[31:24] Speaker 1: order pads. The carbon copy kind. thick like cardboard and
[31:28] Speaker 1: nearly impossible to rip. I wore it under my uniform
[31:31] Speaker 1: like a medieval knight disguised as a fast food. Lacky Jesus,
[31:35] Speaker 1: our dish pit wizard, prepped the weapon. A glass Coca-Cola
[31:38] Speaker 1: bottle filled with frozen high sea orange. Not just frozen, solid.
[31:44] Speaker 1: He left it in the walk-in for two days. It
[31:47] Speaker 1: looked innocent enough sitting on the counter, but it would
[31:50] Speaker 1: hit like a brick if it came down to it.
[31:52] Speaker 1: And Danny? She handled surveillance. hooked up her old GoPro
[31:56] Speaker 1: to the back room, monitor and angled it toward the
[31:59] Speaker 1: front doors. Not for cops, no one trusted them to
[32:02] Speaker 1: show up in time, but for proof. Just in case
[32:05] Speaker 1: this turned into something worse than a broken jaw, I
[32:08] Speaker 1: volunteered to be the bait. Friday night, closing shift, just
[32:13] Speaker 1: me on the floor. I cleaned slower than usual, dragging
[32:17] Speaker 1: the mop across the greasy tiles, every nerve wired and humming.
[32:22] Speaker 1: The whole place was quiet, the way fast food joints
[32:25] Speaker 1: get after the bars close and the college kids crash.
[32:28] Speaker 1: The plan was simple. Let him come in, mouth off,
[32:32] Speaker 1: act out, and when the moment came, make it count.
[32:36] Speaker 1: Danny and Jesus waited out back. Coop stayed inside but
[32:40] Speaker 1: out of sight, pretending to fix the soda machine. I
[32:44] Speaker 1: remember checking the clock. 2.03 a.m. Right on time. The
[32:49] Speaker 1: door slammed open. Clay was here. Clay stormed in like
[32:53] Speaker 1: he was expecting the world to bow. With him were
[32:56] Speaker 1: two other guys, both in camo jackets, both buzzed out
[33:00] Speaker 1: of their skulls. One had a hunting knife on his belt.
[33:04] Speaker 1: The other smelled like he'd bathed in gasoline and rage.
[33:07] Speaker 1: He looked me over, snorted, and said, college pussy better
[33:11] Speaker 1: know their place. Then he reached out and grabbed my
[33:15] Speaker 1: thigh through my polyester uniform pants. I didn't flinch. I
[33:18] Speaker 1: didn't even blink. I grabbed the frozen Hi-C bottle off
[33:22] Speaker 1: the counter and smashed it against the register. It cracked
[33:26] Speaker 1: in half, jagged glass glinting in the flickering fluorescent light.
[33:30] Speaker 1: I pressed the broken edge to Clay's neck, hard enough,
[33:33] Speaker 1: to let him know I wasn't bluffing. This Burger King,
[33:36] Speaker 1: I said, is a goddamn democracy. For a second time froze.
[33:41] Speaker 1: His friends stopped laughing. I could hear Coop shifting behind
[33:44] Speaker 1: the counter, ready to jump in. Clay stared at me,
[33:47] Speaker 1: face twisted between confusion and fury. Then he lunged, I
[33:51] Speaker 1: dodged and shoved him backward with my armored shoulder. The
[33:55] Speaker 1: order pads absorbed the impact and I felt almost nothing.
[33:59] Speaker 1: He went down hard knocking a table clean over. I
[34:02] Speaker 1: ran out the back leading him toward the dumpsters. The
[34:05] Speaker 1: alley behind the BK was dark and slick with fryer
[34:08] Speaker 1: oil runoff. Clay followed, fists swinging. His camo guy stumbled after.
[34:14] Speaker 1: This wasn't just a fight. This was war and I
[34:18] Speaker 1: wasn't done yet. The alley stank of sour grease and
[34:22] Speaker 1: cigarette ash. I pivoted on my heel and caught clay
[34:25] Speaker 1: in the ribs with a steel fry basket, one of
[34:27] Speaker 1: the good ones, straight from the dish pit. He let
[34:31] Speaker 1: out a bark of pain and staggered back. One of
[34:34] Speaker 1: the camo guys lunged at me, slipped on fryer sludge,
[34:37] Speaker 1: and took a faceful of sauce runoff from a busted
[34:39] Speaker 1: mayo packet. Then came the other one. He managed to
[34:42] Speaker 1: land a punch, but it bounced harmlessly off the receipt armor.
[34:46] Speaker 1: I grinned, high on adrenaline, and gave him a solid
[34:49] Speaker 1: knee to the stomach. And just when I thought it
[34:51] Speaker 1: was about to turn ugly for real, like hospital ugly,
[34:55] Speaker 1: I heard it. Click, clack. That, sound every American kid recognizes.
[35:01] Speaker 1: A shotgun racking. A man stepped into the glow of
[35:05] Speaker 1: the overhead light. Older, maybe 50, wearing a crisp Burger
[35:09] Speaker 1: King manager's shirt tucked into faded jeans. His name tag
[35:13] Speaker 1: read Hank, but the stitching was old. The font wrong,
[35:17] Speaker 1: like it hadn't been made this century. He looked at
[35:20] Speaker 1: all of us. Calm. Patient. Y'all are scaring off my customers,
[35:26] Speaker 1: he said. The alley was empty except for us. Clay froze.
[35:32] Speaker 1: Face drained of color. Shit, he whispered. You work here now?
[35:38] Speaker 1: Hank didn't answer. Just adjusted his grip on the shotgun
[35:41] Speaker 1: and took a step closer. Clay turned. Bolted. His friend
[35:46] Speaker 1: scrambled after him like mice fleeing fire. Hank. looked at me,
[35:51] Speaker 1: nodded once. Then he was gone. I sat behind the
[35:56] Speaker 1: Burger King that night, hands shaking, breath fogging the cold
[35:59] Speaker 1: Appalachian air. Coop came out first, followed by Danny and Jesus.
[36:04] Speaker 1: No one spoke for a while. When we finally checked
[36:07] Speaker 1: the alley, there was no sign of Hank, no boot prints,
[36:10] Speaker 1: no shotgun shells, nothing, except for three Burger King crowns,
[36:14] Speaker 1: perfectly folded, resting in a neat row beside the dumpster. Inside,
[36:18] Speaker 1: the high sea-bottle the one I shattered, was sitting on
[36:22] Speaker 1: the counter again, reassembled, no cracks, still cold. And when
[36:28] Speaker 1: Danny checked the employee handbook the next day, she found
[36:31] Speaker 1: a new line at the bottom of the emergency procedures page.
[36:34] Speaker 1: No exorcisms during peak hours. We laughed, but it wasn't
[36:39] Speaker 1: a funny laugh. Clay never came back. Rumors said he
[36:43] Speaker 1: took a job at a McDonald's three states over. I
[36:46] Speaker 1: doubted he ever touched another spicy chicken. Now when I
[36:49] Speaker 1: train new hires, I tell them about the grease traps,
[36:52] Speaker 1: the soda mix ratios, and what to do when drunk
[36:54] Speaker 1: students throw up in the lobby. But I also tell them,
[36:57] Speaker 1: dead serious. If Hank shows, up make him a whopper,
[37:02] Speaker 1: no questions. And I still keep one of those crowns
[37:04] Speaker 1: in my glove box. Not for luck. For respect. Because
[37:10] Speaker 1: some shifts, the night shift doesn't just serve burgers. We
[37:13] Speaker 1: serve warnings. Working the overnight shift at the Burger King
[37:21] Speaker 1: off I-80 wasn't exactly how I pictured life at 28.
[37:25] Speaker 1: But here I was in rural Nebraska, flipping patties and
[37:28] Speaker 1: dodging burnout. The hum of the fluorescent lights never stopped,
[37:32] Speaker 1: like they were wired into my skull. And the Broiler
[37:36] Speaker 1: 5000 wheezed like a dying animal every time it cooked
[37:39] Speaker 1: another Whopper. We didn't get many customers between 1 and
[37:42] Speaker 1: 4 a.m. Truckers, a few lost tourists, and the occasional
[37:46] Speaker 1: teenager with bloodshot eyes and too much. Time. The crew
[37:50] Speaker 1: was thin. Usually just me, my manager Rick, and whoever
[37:54] Speaker 1: they stuck on grill duty. That's how I met Chris.
[37:58] Speaker 1: He came in late one Thursday. Pale, lanky guy with
[38:01] Speaker 1: greasy hair, wearing the Black Burger King polo like it
[38:04] Speaker 1: was a uniform for something. Far worse. Said maybe five
[38:07] Speaker 1: words during his first shift. They put him on the
[38:10] Speaker 1: grill and I was assigned to train him. I showed
[38:12] Speaker 1: him how to slap frozen patties onto the conveyor, how
[38:15] Speaker 1: to clean the grease trap, barely, and how to prep
[38:18] Speaker 1: sandwich builds. He nodded but didn't say much. Every break,
[38:22] Speaker 1: he'd go out to the parking lot, light a cigarette,
[38:25] Speaker 1: and stare out at the highway like it owed him money.
[38:28] Speaker 1: His order never changed. Double Whopper. No veggies. Extra mayo.
[38:33] Speaker 1: Large Coke. No ice. Two apple pies. Untouched. He'd peel
[38:38] Speaker 1: back the foil, stare into the filling like it was
[38:40] Speaker 1: some kind of omen, and then toss them. Every single time.
[38:45] Speaker 1: We all just figured he was another night shift casualty.
[38:48] Speaker 1: the kind who slipped through life's cracks and landed behind
[38:52] Speaker 1: a fryer in the middle of nowhere. I'd seen it before.
[38:56] Speaker 1: I didn't know then that Chris wasn't broken. He was
[38:59] Speaker 1: planning something. The thing about working nights is your sense
[39:02] Speaker 1: of normal starts to warp. You laugh at stuff that
[39:06] Speaker 1: would make you flinch in daylight. Black humor becomes survival.
[39:10] Speaker 1: So when Chris made his first joke, I didn't think
[39:12] Speaker 1: much of it. We were scrubbing the Broiler 5000 around
[39:15] Speaker 1: 3 a.m., elbow-deep in congealed grease. He looked over and said,
[39:21] Speaker 1: You think this thing could dissolve a body? I laughed,
[39:24] Speaker 1: a weird, dry laugh. Only if they've been marinated in regret.
[39:30] Speaker 1: Chris didn't smile, just nodded, serious. From there, the jokes
[39:35] Speaker 1: came more often. Always dark, always delivered flat. I bet
[39:41] Speaker 1: the freezer could hold a couple bodies, just gotta stack
[39:43] Speaker 1: them right. If you really wanted to poison someone, you'd
[39:46] Speaker 1: do it through the mayo. No one checks the mayo.
[39:50] Speaker 1: Again I laughed. Because that's what you do, right? You
[39:53] Speaker 1: pretend it's all in fun. But each time the laughter
[39:56] Speaker 1: felt thinner. Then came the weird habits. He'd trace the
[40:00] Speaker 1: small bullet hole in the drive-thru window with his finger
[40:03] Speaker 1: like it meant something. Rick told us it was from
[40:05] Speaker 1: an armed robbery back in 2009. But Chris stared at
[40:09] Speaker 1: it like it whispered to him. One night I caught
[40:11] Speaker 1: him humming pumped-up kicks while cleaning the soda machine. Real slow.
[40:16] Speaker 1: Real soft. Still, I didn't say anything. Nobody. Did. We
[40:22] Speaker 1: all knew people cracked a little on the night shift.
[40:25] Speaker 1: The silence, the boredom, the shadows behind every corner. I
[40:28] Speaker 1: told myself he was just weird, not dangerous. But then,
[40:32] Speaker 1: one night while I was at the fry station, he
[40:34] Speaker 1: leaned in close and whispered, If they ever fire me,
[40:38] Speaker 1: I'd make sure this place gets on the news. That
[40:41] Speaker 1: was when my stomach turned cold. Didn't tell Rick right away.
[40:45] Speaker 1: I told myself maybe Chris was bluffing, blowing off steam.
[40:48] Speaker 1: But something about the way he said it, calm like
[40:51] Speaker 1: he'd already pictured it, stuck with me. Later that night
[40:54] Speaker 1: I stepped into the walk-in freezer to restock pies and just... froze.
[41:00] Speaker 1: I pulled out my phone and called Mia, my wife.
[41:03] Speaker 1: Her voice came, through groggy and concerned. What's wrong, she asked.
[41:08] Speaker 1: I told her everything. Chris's jokes, the bullet hole tracing,
[41:11] Speaker 1: the threat. There was no hesitation. Tell your manager. Now.
[41:17] Speaker 1: Rick was in the back office, feet up on a
[41:19] Speaker 1: crate of burger buns. Ex-Marine. Usually didn't scare easy. He
[41:24] Speaker 1: gave me that tired, seen-it-all look as I talked. But
[41:27] Speaker 1: when I mentioned the bullet hole and what Chris said,
[41:30] Speaker 1: about the news, Rick sat up. You're sure that's what
[41:33] Speaker 1: he said? Word for word, he rubbed his temples and
[41:37] Speaker 1: muttered something about, not again. Then he asked me to
[41:40] Speaker 1: write a report. Official-like. I could tell he was trying
[41:45] Speaker 1: to stay. Calm. but his fingers trembled when he reached
[41:49] Speaker 1: for the phone. Chris didn't show up the next night.
[41:52] Speaker 1: I asked Rick if he was fired. Rick didn't answer,
[41:55] Speaker 1: just told me to stay alert, double-check all exits, and
[41:58] Speaker 1: keep my phone on me at all times. That was
[42:01] Speaker 1: when the paranoia kicked in. Every time a car idled
[42:04] Speaker 1: in the lot too long, I stared until it drove off.
[42:08] Speaker 1: Every shadow behind the dumpster felt heavier. I started watching
[42:12] Speaker 1: the door like it might burst open at any second,
[42:15] Speaker 1: and deep down, I hoped I was overreacting. I wasn't.
[42:20] Speaker 1: It happened three days later. Cops showed up just before dawn.
[42:25] Speaker 1: Cruiser lights painting the frosted windows red and blue. One
[42:28] Speaker 1: of them walked in holding a folded piece of paper.
[42:31] Speaker 1: The other followed Rick to the back. No one said
[42:34] Speaker 1: a word. They searched for Chris's locker. I never looked
[42:38] Speaker 1: inside myself. I figured he kept cigarettes, maybe a flask.
[42:42] Speaker 1: But what they found made the blood drain from my face.
[42:45] Speaker 1: A map of the Burger King hand-drawn and labeled with
[42:48] Speaker 1: all the exits, fire escape routes, blind spots in the cameras,
[42:52] Speaker 1: then a list of employees' names. Mine had a checkmark
[42:56] Speaker 1: next to it. So did Rick's. So did Angie, the
[43:02] Speaker 1: morning shift opener who had just come back from maternity leave,
[43:05] Speaker 1: and a receipt. A real one, torn from a register.
[43:09] Speaker 1: For 200 rounds of 9mm ammo, purchased three days earlier.
[43:14] Speaker 1: They didn't say much about the arrest, said Chris had
[43:17] Speaker 1: been picked up off a rural road outside town. Gunn
[43:20] Speaker 1: was in the car. He'd written a letter, what they
[43:23] Speaker 1: call a manifesto. But the part that still haunts me?
[43:28] Speaker 1: One of the officers told me before they left. When
[43:31] Speaker 1: we cuffed him, he asked if Jordan said anything else
[43:34] Speaker 1: about him. I didn't respond, just nodded, lips dry, heart pounding.
[43:38] Speaker 1: Rick took a week off after that. I gave my
[43:40] Speaker 1: two weeks notice the same day. I wasn't going to
[43:43] Speaker 1: die behind a friar. I never saw Chris again, but
[43:46] Speaker 1: sometimes I think I do. A black sedan in my
[43:49] Speaker 1: rearview mirror that follows too long. A guy with the
[43:53] Speaker 1: same walk, standing outside a gas station, in the dark.
[43:57] Speaker 1: I quit Burger King, took a warehouse job on the
[44:00] Speaker 1: edge of Lincoln. Pays less, but I sleep better, mostly.
[44:03] Speaker 1: Every so often I drive past that old BK off I-80.
[44:06] Speaker 1: The sign's still flickering. I still check the parking lot
[44:10] Speaker 1: for black cars with no plates. Old habits. the footage
[44:14] Speaker 1: from the night Chris made that threat accidentally erased according
[44:17] Speaker 1: to Rick probably for the best Mia says I did
[44:21] Speaker 1: the right thing that I probably saved lives but I
[44:24] Speaker 1: still wonder if Chris remembers if he's sitting somewhere in
[44:27] Speaker 1: a cell thinking about the guy who reported him and
[44:30] Speaker 1: I remember the last thing he ever said to me
[44:32] Speaker 1: not goodbye not take care just see you later and
[44:38] Speaker 1: somehow that still chills me more than anything because he
[44:41] Speaker 1: said it like a promise Back in 2015, I had
[44:50] Speaker 1: a degree in philosophy from UC Santa Cruz, a mountain
[44:53] Speaker 1: of student debt, and no clue what I was doing
[44:56] Speaker 1: with my life. I landed at a 24-hour Burger King
[44:59] Speaker 1: off Highway 99 in Bakersfield, California, where the sun never
[45:03] Speaker 1: fully sets. It just simmers down to a dull orange burn.
[45:07] Speaker 1: Nights there felt like limbo, too late for the living,
[45:11] Speaker 1: too early for the dead. My job, midnight to 8 a.m.,
[45:16] Speaker 1: five nights a week, Friar, register, grill, whatever Linda, our manager, needed.
[45:22] Speaker 1: The place was a magnet for stoned college kids, tweakers,
[45:26] Speaker 1: and truckers running on three days of no-dos. I kept
[45:29] Speaker 1: my head down and my apron clean, mostly. Jason showed
[45:33] Speaker 1: up during one of those shifts, just walked in like
[45:35] Speaker 1: he'd always been part of the crew. Tall, wiry guy
[45:38] Speaker 1: with a faded Misfits tattoo crawling up his neck. First
[45:42] Speaker 1: thing he said to me was, You ever just want
[45:45] Speaker 1: to deep-fry your diploma? I laughed harder than I should have.
[45:49] Speaker 1: He picked things up fast, cracked dumb jokes while cleaning
[45:53] Speaker 1: the grill and always slipped me extra nuggets during break.
[45:56] Speaker 1: Said it was the least he could do for a
[45:57] Speaker 1: bro with a brain. We shared shift meals at 3 a.m.
[46:01] Speaker 1: and he always ordered the same thing. Whopper Jr. No tomato,
[46:05] Speaker 1: extra pickles, large Dr. Pepper with exactly seven ice cubes
[46:09] Speaker 1: and one single onion ring. He never ate it, just
[46:13] Speaker 1: moved it around his tray like he was solving a puzzle.
[46:17] Speaker 1: For a while, I figured I'd gotten lucky. Night shifts
[46:20] Speaker 1: are lonely, and Jason made them feel less like punishment.
[46:23] Speaker 1: But weird people don't stay weird in the open. They
[46:26] Speaker 1: drift into the shadows, and Jason was already halfway there.
[46:30] Speaker 1: Jason had a friend, Tyler. I never saw him inside
[46:35] Speaker 1: the store, only outside during Jason's extended smoke breaks. Tyler
[46:39] Speaker 1: was the kind of guy who made you instinctively check
[46:42] Speaker 1: your wallet after he left. Always wore a black hoodie.
[46:46] Speaker 1: even when it was 98 degrees at midnight. I once
[46:49] Speaker 1: asked Jason why Tyler never came in. He just shrugged.
[46:53] Speaker 1: Guy's got anxiety, man. Doesn't trust corporate spaces. I didn't press.
[46:59] Speaker 1: That summer was a blur of grease burns, busted ice machines,
[47:02] Speaker 1: and drive-through orders yelled through static. But in between it all,
[47:06] Speaker 1: little things started adding up. The register came up short
[47:10] Speaker 1: three nights in a row. $ 20 here, $ 15 there. Linda
[47:14] Speaker 1: thought it was a system error at first, I wanted
[47:17] Speaker 1: to believe that too. Then there was the switchblade. I
[47:21] Speaker 1: found it shoved behind the ketchup packets while restocking the
[47:23] Speaker 1: condiment station. Handle worn, blade sharp. I showed it to Jason,
[47:28] Speaker 1: half joking. He grinned. That just for protection. This neighborhood's sketchy, man.
[47:35] Speaker 1: He tucked it into his back pocket like it was
[47:37] Speaker 1: no big deal. That's when the vibe changed. Jason still laughed,
[47:42] Speaker 1: still cracked jokes, but it all felt off. like he
[47:45] Speaker 1: was playing a part he was getting bored of he
[47:48] Speaker 1: started showing up late looking wired twitchy and the breaks
[47:52] Speaker 1: with tyler got longer sometimes 30 40 minutes i told
[47:57] Speaker 1: myself i was being paranoid bakersfield wasn't exactly known for
[48:01] Speaker 1: its saints but i couldn't shake the feeling i was
[48:03] Speaker 1: standing next to someone who treated this job like a
[48:05] Speaker 1: cover and i started watching him more closely not because
[48:10] Speaker 1: i didn't trust him but because i finally realized he
[48:14] Speaker 1: didn't trust anyone It happened on a Thursday. I was
[48:18] Speaker 1: mopping near the front counter, trying to ignore the sticky
[48:21] Speaker 1: sound my shoes made every time I took a step.
[48:24] Speaker 1: Jason was on drive-thru. Tyler was pacing outside again, hoodie
[48:29] Speaker 1: up despite the 90-degree night. Linda came in mid-shift. She
[48:34] Speaker 1: never did that, said she had to check numbers. Ten
[48:38] Speaker 1: minutes later, I heard shouting from the back office, Jason's voice.
[48:42] Speaker 1: Then a thud. He came out holding his hat, his
[48:44] Speaker 1: name tag barely hanging on. She caught me skimming, he
[48:48] Speaker 1: said like he was talking about spilling a soda. Guess
[48:51] Speaker 1: it's time to move on. I stood there like an idiot,
[48:55] Speaker 1: mop dripping in one hand. Later, Dylan, he said, don't forget,
[49:01] Speaker 1: philosophy majors always overthink shit. Then he winked, walked out
[49:06] Speaker 1: the front doors, and disappeared into the night. Linda didn't
[49:10] Speaker 1: say much, just told me to double check the register
[49:13] Speaker 1: and lock the safe at the end of the shift.
[49:16] Speaker 1: I nodded, still hearing his voice in my head. The
[49:19] Speaker 1: next few weeks felt hollow. The fryer still hissed, the
[49:22] Speaker 1: broiler 5,000 still wheezed like it had asthma, and drunk
[49:26] Speaker 1: college kids still asked if we could make them a
[49:29] Speaker 1: burger that tastes like regret. But it wasn't the same.
[49:33] Speaker 1: The tension that hung in the air when Jason was
[49:36] Speaker 1: around was gone, but so was the weird comfort I
[49:39] Speaker 1: figured that was it. Just another burnout who slipped through
[49:43] Speaker 1: fast food and out the other side. Until I saw
[49:45] Speaker 1: his face on the news. It was a slow Tuesday.
[49:49] Speaker 1: I was eating leftover chicken fries on my couch, scrolling
[49:52] Speaker 1: my phone with grease-stained fingers when I saw the headline.
[49:56] Speaker 1: Armed robbery at 7-Eleven. Former fast food employee among suspects.
[50:01] Speaker 1: I clicked it so fast I nearly dropped my phone. There.
[50:06] Speaker 1: He was. Jason. Same tattoos. Same half smile, only this
[50:11] Speaker 1: time it looked smug, like he was daring the world
[50:14] Speaker 1: to be shocked. The article said he and an accomplice,
[50:19] Speaker 1: Tyler of course, stormed a 7-Eleven at gunpoint. Pistol whipped
[50:23] Speaker 1: the clerk. Took $ 87 in a case of Bud Light.
[50:27] Speaker 1: That was it. All that edge, all that buildup for
[50:30] Speaker 1: beer and cash barely enough to fill a tank. I
[50:34] Speaker 1: just stared. You think you know people. You think the
[50:38] Speaker 1: guy who sneaks you extra nuggets and hums punk songs
[50:41] Speaker 1: at 4 a.m. is just harmless. Maybe broken, but not dangerous.
[50:45] Speaker 1: And then you see their mugshot on the evening news
[50:47] Speaker 1: looking like they're proud to be caught. Linda texted me
[50:51] Speaker 1: later that night. Told you he was trouble. All I
[50:55] Speaker 1: replied was, yeah, but I didn't sleep well. I kept
[51:00] Speaker 1: hearing his voice in my head, that smirk in his words.
[51:03] Speaker 1: Don't forget, philosophy majors always overthink shit. and now I
[51:07] Speaker 1: couldn't help it. I overthought everything, especially how close I'd
[51:11] Speaker 1: been to ending up in the wrong place at the
[51:14] Speaker 1: wrong time with the wrong guy. Five years passed. I
[51:18] Speaker 1: moved to Fresno, got a warehouse job, better hours, decent benefits.
[51:22] Speaker 1: Philosophy degree still sat in a frame on my bookshelf
[51:25] Speaker 1: like a joke I forgot the punchline to. Then, one
[51:28] Speaker 1: night at Walmart, I saw him. Jason. He was thinner,
[51:33] Speaker 1: beard patchy, tattoos faded into dull scars. He was pushing
[51:37] Speaker 1: a cart full of canned chili and energy drinks when
[51:40] Speaker 1: he looked up and saw me, that same grin. Yo,
[51:43] Speaker 1: BK buddy, he called out like we were just old co-workers.
[51:47] Speaker 1: We should grab a beer sometime. I laughed, awkward, shaky.
[51:52] Speaker 1: Busy these days, man. He nodded like he understood, like
[51:55] Speaker 1: we shared a secret. Two months later, I saw his
[51:59] Speaker 1: face again, this time on the local news. Repeat offender
[52:02] Speaker 1: arrested in home invasion. Apparently, He and Tyler broke into
[52:07] Speaker 1: a house in the middle of the night. Got caught
[52:09] Speaker 1: when the homeowners. Dog wouldn't stop barking. That was it.
[52:14] Speaker 1: I sat on my couch, phone glowing in my hands
[52:16] Speaker 1: and wondered how many more times I'd see that grin
[52:19] Speaker 1: before he finally disappeared for good. Now, every time I
[52:23] Speaker 1: pass a Burger King, I check the locks at red lights.
[52:27] Speaker 1: I wonder if Jason ever liked those Whopper Juniors or
[52:30] Speaker 1: if it was just a script. And I think about
[52:32] Speaker 1: how close I came to being more than just his coworker.
[52:35] Speaker 1: Maybe even an alibi. The last thing he ever said
[52:38] Speaker 1: to me still lingers. Life's a joke, man. Just don't
[52:42] Speaker 1: be the punchline. I didn't get it then. Now I do.

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