"The Last Shift — 15 Minutes of Pure Terror (True-Style Horror Story)"

It was a stormy Friday night when Daniel locked up the small convenience store on the edge of town. The place always felt different after dark—too quiet, too empty, like the walls were listening.

He had just finished his last shift. Tomorrow, he’d be leaving for good—moving out of this town that felt more like a graveyard than a community.

As he turned the key in the lock, lightning flashed, revealing the deserted street. The puddles shimmered, and a cold wind howled through the alleyways.

Daniel zipped up his jacket and began walking toward his apartment two blocks away. The rain soaked his hair in seconds, but something else made him shiver… the feeling of being watched.

He glanced over his shoulder.

Nothing.

Halfway down the street, he spotted a figure standing beneath a flickering streetlamp. A tall man in a long coat and a wide-brimmed hat. The rain seemed to slide off him unnaturally, as if it didn’t dare touch him.

Daniel walked faster. The man didn’t move.

When he reached the corner and dared to look again… the man was gone.

By the time Daniel reached his apartment building, the lights in the hallway were dim, buzzing softly. His neighbor’s door, usually shut tight, was slightly open.

He hesitated.

“Mrs. Hensley?” he called, remembering the sweet old lady who always left cookies at his door.

No answer.

He pushed the door open a little farther. The apartment was dark, smelling faintly of wet earth.

And then he saw it.

A pair of muddy footprints leading from the door… to the bedroom.

Daniel froze. The sound of slow breathing came from inside.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, making him jump. It was a text.

From Mrs. Hensley.

“Don’t go inside. I’m not home tonight.”

Daniel backed away, heart racing, and ran into his own apartment. He locked the door, bolted it, and leaned against it, trying to calm down.

But the quiet didn’t last long.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Someone was knocking on his door.

“Who is it?” he called, voice shaking.

No answer—just the sound of slow breathing on the other side.

Daniel reached for his phone to call the police, but his hands trembled too much.

Then… the knocking stopped.

A low voice spoke from the other side.

“Daniel… let me in. You forgot something at the store.”

It was the man from the street.

Daniel backed into the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife he could find.

Suddenly, the lights went out. The apartment was plunged into darkness. The only sound was the rain against the window… and footsteps inside his apartment.

“Stay away!” Daniel shouted, his voice cracking.

Something moved past him—too fast to see.

Lightning flashed through the window, and for a split second, he saw the man standing in the corner. His face was pale and hollow, his eyes black pits. His coat seemed to ripple like smoke.

The light vanished, and so did he.

Daniel ran for the door, fumbling with the locks. But when he flung it open, he found himself… back in the store.

The shelves were empty. The rain outside had stopped.

“End of your shift,” the man’s voice whispered behind him.

Daniel turned—

No one was there.

One by one, the store lights flickered out until only the back room was illuminated. The smell of wet earth was stronger now.

Something dripped from the ceiling—thick, dark drops.

When Daniel looked up, he saw shapes moving above him. Hands pressing against the tiles, long fingers curling downward.

The floor beneath him turned soft and muddy. He was sinking.

He screamed and tried to pull himself out, but something cold wrapped around his ankle and yanked him under.

The last thing he saw was the man in the coat standing at the counter, smiling.

Daniel’s apartment was found the next morning.

The door was still locked.

The lights were on.

But Daniel was gone.

On the kitchen counter, there was only a muddy footprint… and a single note:

“Welcome to your permanent shift.”