Keep scooping. It's the only thing you can do.
You can't help but notice at this frantic moment that your regrets are at the forefront of your mind. Why did you drop out of high school? Why did you stay at the first dead end job you got for so many years? Why did you apply to an ice cream shop in the first place? The slaveish years of doling out scoops of delicious sugar to overly excited children had filled you with a loathing you wish you could ignore. From your position you can see the shocked look on the face of the birthday boy you were just blending a special birthday treat for. You hope this ruins birthdays forever for him. If he had been any louder while telling you he was six going on seven you may have quit on the spot.
You probably should have.
Keep scooping. It's the only thing you have left.
As your right hand scoops another glob of soft mush into it's rightful place you get a strong scent of lemons, but lemon isn't one of your flavors. Hmm. Curious. You try to reach your left hand to the counter, but upon releasing it's precious cargo a large blob bursts from it's container and falls onto the floor. Counter will have to wait. Left hand is going to be busy for a while.
Keep scooping. It's your only chance.
Your knees would probably hurt if you could feel anything below your waist. The floor in here is too solid for kneeling and you've been down here for minutes now, neatly scooping the contents back in through their split seam. It's been desperately hard to get it all up off the floor, but you think that's the last of it.
Keep scooping.
The irony of making it this far only due to the years of hated ice cream scooping isn't lost on you, but it doesn't seem to matter as your vision is blacking out slowly and your arms are losing strength.
Then your vision is gone and all you have left is the smell of lemons and smoke from the burnt out blender along with the slowly dying hum of the machine, as your long chain necklace finally jams the motor. Your arms lose all strength as you slowly release your grip on the seam and your intestines burst through back onto the floor. As the last of your awareness fades, you feel a final bit of joy as you realize the trouble this will cause your boss.
YOU ARE READING
Not Your Usual Scary Stories
HorrorI'll be adding to this when I can. Some of my very first pieces. These are strange and obscure, but sure to keep you guessing and afraid. +++++Some may have triggering situations so read at your own discretion!+++++ Enjoy.... Keep the lights on....
