'10 minutes. Just 10 more minutes'
Mo glanced at the clock ticking on the wall. Every second he painstakingly counted.
'5 minutes, yes, yes! Almost there!'
Ding-ding!
Welcome to Eleven-Seven!
'No!!'
The glass door creaked open, allowing the cold outside air to rush in.
The Eleven-Seven neon sign flickered, its light briefly illuminating the street before covering it back in shadow.
But from the counter, a disheveled looking cashier, Mo, crumpled his face in disgust.
'Another duo of lovers, it's the 4th one tonight. Where do they breed these people?!"
The couple's eyes began scanning the aisles for their grocery list, but as all late-night dates go, they got distracted on a useless trivial item.
"Babe, babe! Look! It's the kitty wallet I told you about, it's so cute right? Can you get me one?"
"Of course my sweet darling, anything for you~"
"You're so nice, babe! Mmh!"
Smooch~
Despite the utterly loving atmosphere these two created, a pair of dull eyes glared from the front register.
'Can't they do this in a more private place? Dammit, I have to do overtime now.'
He sighed audibly, luckily to the attention of no one. His hand reached under the counter and pulled out a long battered sketchbook that looked more of a horrid representation of charcoal paintings.
And a bottle of grape juice, of course.
He let out his right thumb.
"6 cartons of milk… no, 6 and a half in height. The female is 5 cartons…"
The young cashier murmured inwardly. He shifted his fingers, which gripped tightly on his mechanical pencil.
His white apron and uniform, creased from the hours of work he's done so far, were starting to turn muskier with every moment he spent in this god forsaken convenience store.
A convenience store that just so happens to be his last source of cash, so he really can't complain here.
Money is freedom after all, his mom said.
-[Mo Falir]-
Even his own name tag began to fall to the side slightly. Well, it's probably from all the drawing he's been doing.
Yes, he was drawing, or at the very least doodling the couple, using the simple milk cartons down the aisle as a unit of measurement. Though, he never excelled in actual mathematic units anyway, nor does he care to learn.
His fingers drew the kissy duo drowning in an ocean of dreadful tentacles with both their faces being defiled by acidic water.
Slurrrppp!
The Grape juice helps Mo concentrate and relax, ever since he discovered them 15 years ago when he was just 4 years old. It alleviated his loneliness back then, though not as much as he wanted.
Ding-ding!
'God, more customers? When will the next shift worker arrive?!'
Then, Mo suddenly dropped his pencil.
His stomach growled and he tightly clenched his jaw.
"W-what…"
He drifted his gaze to his precious grape juice and nearly choked.
'It's been expired for a year?!'
Something bad was coming.
"This... this isn't good."
…
Though it had been over a year since he was hired, Mo still hadn't gotten used to this place.
A convenience store of the famous Eleven-Seven chain, located in the middle of the city, being the most ominous and serial killer potential building he's ever stepped foot in.
Why? Just look at the walls and tiles. Not even a day of scrubbing can clear the grime.
'Quick, almost there—!
He nearly tripped over a bag of chips, but he caught himself on the shelf.
'Thankfully the restrooms are somehow clean. Please let there be a vacant."
The horrible growling in his intestines intensified, unable to hold itself in any longer.
He let out a relieving sigh as he found the entire row of stalls empty.
Without a second thought, Mo haggardly penguin-walked towards the nearest toilet.
Creak.. slam!
'Holy shit, and just when I was about to end my shift..."
Bzzt! Tap. Tap.
'I need to finish quick otherwise I might have to clock in overtime. How bothersome."
Tap. Tap.
"...Is there a leak?"
…
"What-"
Bztt!!
Suddenly, the ceiling lights began to function erratically, and the walls itself started moving.
The tapping grew more frequent, louder, and closer. Until the sound echoed right above his head.
Bzzt, bzzt!
Mo, completely taken aback by the sudden series of events, started squeezing his ass cheeks tighter to finish his business as soon as possible.
But his shit wouldn't come out.
'No way…"
'No way I'm constipated! Damn Grape juice!"
Zzzzz
The stall door vibrated from an intense commotion happening in the store. Or was it outside?
'What in the world is happening—?"
But his thoughts faltered as a sinister smell entered his nostrils. It had a horrible tang of iron and rust, with a slightly sweet aroma reminiscent of fresh meat.
Blood
It was a familiar scent to the young man.
After all the years of cutting himself, falling off his apartment balcony, and intentionally getting his left index finger crushed by brick, he is particularly aware of the smell.
'Why do I smell blood?'
Mo thought, clenching the toilet paper rack.
Meanwhile, outside voices and screams spread like wildfire; something dangerous has entered the store.
"What the…"
"Babe, run! Quick, hold my hand- eek!"
"W-what's that?!"
"AAAAHHH!"
Away from the Eleven-Seven in the distance, an echo of snarls and roars reverberated.
But inside, it became quiet. The commotion had died instantly. Only the clattering of shelf items was noticeable.
'What's happening out there?"
'Wait, are we getting robbed?! I need to get my phone."
He reached into the pockets of his slacks, which drooped depressingly at his feet. He struggled to feel the inside with his fingers.
But he only felt the now empty bottle of grape juice he drank earlier.
Painfully, his gastrointestinal tract protested once more, and Mo groaned.
He desperately tried pushing harder but his turd won't come out.
"Come on you little shit, GET OUT! I need to get my phone!"
But, just like everything so far, things never go his way.
The stall started to feel blurry, replaced by a faint blueish energy encircling him as goosebumps shivered all over his body.
Crk… tsh!!
In a flash, the ceiling was torn away, the tiles flying into the sky and towards a strange light. His eyes widened; the force on his ass cheeks paused.
A bright blue light, one that covered even the moon, swirled in the crimson red sky. A rift.
And from that rift emerged a giant hand; black, bone-white claws tearing through the sky. It didn't reach down. It hovered. Watching.
'Beautiful.' Mo murmured.