The Moaning Man

It’s far too late.

It is here. It is here.

To just but look upon it,

you will know true fear.

Your eyes it shall cherish,

and shall revere.

The Moaning Man.

He is here.

Oh, dear.

“Don’t be such a chicken shit Lewis.” Carl said, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“It’s one last job, man. After this, you can fuck off to whatever hole it was that you crawled out of.”

Carl wore a well pressed black suit and a pair of large dark aviators- even though it was well past midnight. They suited him though, and looked cool against his bald head. He looked at me from the rear-view mirror as he took a turn into the one gas station off the lonesome, long highway we’d been driving on. It had been a while since we passed through civilization. We could use a top up on gas but, to be honest, I was just looking forward to a new pack of cigarettes.

“Does this not seem a little sketchy to you, Carl? I mean, look around...” I held up my hands, indicating the vacant gas station. “Like, Jesus! Who even puts a gas station way out here?”

Carl had just parked the car at the side of the gas station. We were out of sight, but the gas pumps were still in our peripherals. I kept an eye on the beat-up Chevy, and the guy filling up his canisters.

“How the hell should I know? Do I look like the planning committee for the Middle’a’Buttfuck Nowhere to you?” He let out a dry chuckle, as he fumbled in the car console for the last remaining few cigarettes.

He secured a cigarette in his mouth, passed one off to me, and tucked the last one in his breast pocket. He kept the empty pack in the console. As Carl began to light his cigarette, I unbuttoned my jacket to reveal my 9mm, semi-automatic pistol. I pulled back on it, to make sure it was loaded, but kept the safety on for now. I looked back up at the Chevy man. Patches of dirt littered his worn-out plaid jacket and he looked like he hadn’t showered in a week. We were clearly in the boonies. Carl seemed to have noticed too.

“Ha! Look at this redneck! We must stick out pretty good here.”

The Chevy man tightened the lids on his gas canisters as he gawked at our black Rolls Royce. Our windows were tinted almost pitch-black, and we kept the rolled up. The Chevy man wouldn’t be able to pick us out in police line up. Of course, it wouldn’t come to that. This was, what we call, an In-N-Out job. My last one, too.

“Carl, what the hell did this guy do to sign his own death warrant anyway?” I loosened my tie with one hand, easing the grip on my handgun in my jacket.

“You know, it’s better not to ask me Lewis.”

I gazed into darkness. He’s right. In this line of business, it’s better to just pull the trigger and not ask questions. Finding out your hit has a family waiting at home tends to fuck up your mentality. Carl offered his lighter and I nodded in acceptance. I lit my cigarette and took a long drag and let the nicotine fill my lungs.

“You know Frankie’s youngest? Little Jackie? He came down here, the piss ant. Don’t know why he stopped here, but he fucking did. Next thing you know, Jackie is gutted like a fuckin’ fish with his goddamn eyes taken out.”

I was exhuming the poison halfway through his sentence and closed my eyes to avoid choking.

“The bosses kid gets his eyes ripped out and I don’t know about it?”

“Not just you. The whole fuckin’ crew doesn’t know about it. Frankie don’t want nobody knowing. Not until we take out the sick fuck who did this to his own flesh and blood.”

Carl watched as the Chevy man entered the station.

“This gas station? You’re tellin’ me the owner of this shithole is the one that killed Little Jackie? He got some massive fuckin’ balls or somethin’? Or just suicidal?”

Why would some random clerk polish off a mobster like Little Jackie? From what I can remember, Little Jackie was a missive beast of a man, build like a solid brick house. How the hell was this even pulled off? The more I thought about it, the more I was put off by the job. They say your last job is never easy, and hardly anyone makes it out alive. I was beginning to understand my confusion on an In-N-Out being my last job. I finished my cigarette and rolled down the window, just enough to throw it out onto the gravel parking lot. Carl eyed the Chevy man exiting the gas station and watched him pull out into the night.

“Alright, Lewis. Enough chit chat. Let’s get this done and we can celebrate your retirement. I’ll keep watch and take care of anyone else coming in. Just keep it quick, alright? Anyone inside there, you put a bullet through each eye. You hear me?”

I nodded. Not wanting to dwell here any longer than needed, I opened the car door and stepped out. Taking out the pistol, I made sure to unclip the safety, and held it just behind my back. I walked along the side of the station and made my way to the door. I peered inside, through the large windows, to see a well-lit, dingy, piece-of-shit gas station. It looked to have a couple low aisles filled with various junk food. I kept darting my eyes around for anyone. As I got to the glass doors, a could see the counter to the left, and a tiny Asian man tending the register.

What the fuck? Was this really the guy?

My gut lurched thinking I would be killing this harmless little man. They say it gets easy with time. It really doesn’t though. It really fuckin’ doesn’t. This cant be him. I made my way inside, heading straight for the counter. Somehow, the man looked even smaller up close. I would say only five feet tall, as I stood at least a foot taller. He wore a ragged green ball-cap, and a similar conditioned vest adorning various little fishhooks. He didn’t even look up as he spoke.

“You’d better be quick. It’s nearing two o’clock and you won’t want to be here then.”

That’s a strange way of saying your closing. Is that what he even meant?

“Hey, dipshit! You may want to pay attention!”

Who the fuck is this guy? I now had my 9mm out from my back, pointed just a little bit down from where the man stood. He looked up but, even with my handgun drawn, he just seemed tired.

“Son, just take what you need and run.” His eyes indicated the clock just off to his right. “You don’t have long.”

I’m not gonna lie. I was completely thrown. I’m used to the begging and pleading, the “oh, God! Please don’t kill me!” Not this weird shit. I raised my gun up, now taking another step towards the counter. I aimed my gun to put a bullet right through his nose.

“This is a retaliation, old man. You don’t just kill a member of the family without taking a permanent dirt nap.”

This seemed to perk him up for some reason.

“I look like a killer to you? If you don’t get the hell out of here in a minute, you’ll end up just like the last guy!”

I could’ve pulled the trigger right then and there, but his words weren’t a threat. The guy was genuinely worried. I lowered my gun, confused as hell. Part of me did want to just pull the trigger. After all, this job was supposed to be easy and over quickly. But something told me to find the real killer; cause this guy certainly wasn’t it.

“Where is this guy, then?”

Seemingly annoyed, and growing increasing frantic, he practically spat out the words.

“You don’t have time for this! Please, if you value your life you need to-”

I heard a car door slam, followed by Carl’s muffled voice beyond the glass. That’s when the alarm sounded. I looked to the clock; it was two o’clock.

Suddenly, the lights began to flicker. The old man sobbed, slowly falling behind the counter. He was muttering to himself, and his eyes were flashing at the windows.

Every hair on my body stood up. I noticed I could see my own breath and was instantly chilled to the bone. I may be a heartless monster to other people but, let me tell you, whatever was coming, whatever presence I felt beginning to cross over, was the real monster.

“Lewis! What the fuck is going on?”

Fear had taken over my body and I leapt over the counter to the other side, with the old man still muttering to himself. The lights had now suddenly gone out, leaving only the glow of the neon sign from outside. I turned to the old man.

“What the fuck is coming?”

I didn’t recognize my own voice. I was terrified and my teeth were chattering. The old man only said three words before the monster came.

“The Moaning Man.”

Carl had just reached the door when I heard him scream. A few gunshots let out, followed by what sounded like splats on the pavement. A primordial, low toned moan could be heard, followed by Carl letting out a horrible scream and the sounds of bones snapping.

“Kill me! Kill me, please!” Carl begged as I could hear his chest being forcibly ripped open. The begging was replaced with more screaming. I could hear the blood erupting from Carl and splattering the windows. I peered over the counter, ignoring the protests from the old man. But I couldn’t make out much of anything with such poor lighting. All that could be seen was a huge figure hunched over where the screams were emanating. Finally, a large snap! And the screaming stopped.

I moved back under the counter and the lights were back on in an instant. I sat frozen in my spot. I looked over at the old man to see he was staring into my soul. He slowly raised his finger to his lips with a quiet shhhh and began to stand up. I heard the door open, and something began to shuffle in. It sounded like something very heavy dragging. I managed to look up at the old man, who was wearing a fake smile and tears pouring down his face. I heard the figure get closer and closer, letting out terrible, inhumane moans. As I felt it approach, I could hardly contain myself. I bit my tongue to stop myself from screaming, and I began pissing myself in the process. What the fuck. It reached the counter, and everything became silent. All I could smell was piss and decay. Something moved across the counter, and I looked up to see a clawed, bloody hand gripping the edge just above me. I saw the old man take a step back. He was still wearing his fake smile. Through gritted teeth, seemingly not wanting to open his mouth, he managed to speak.

“What do you have for me tonight?”

A low moan began again, as something wet was dropped on the counter. I could see the old mans eyes were practically bulging out when he looked at what was given to him.

“Why, thank you kindly. I’ll be closing shop now. Hope to see you again soon.”

The figure began his shuffle towards the door, letting out a low moan. I gained the feeling back in my legs, enough to peer over the counter, when the lights began to flicker and a terrible gurgle sound erupted. The old man switched his gaze onto me, still refusing to let down his fake smile. I could hear the moaning get louder and louder.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! You may not deserve it... or maybe you do?” The old man cried. He fell back behind the counter, not taking his eyes off me. “He sees you! Why did you look?”

I screamed as I crawled frantically to the back door. I didn’t make it far before a bloody claw gripped my ankle and began dragging me out. I tried to stand up before being yanked back down again, and I noticed there was a pair of human eyes on the counter, and aviators drenched in blood. I gazed at the figure one more time before my own eyes were forcefully taken, screaming until my lungs gave out.

The End