Book of Horror Stories

Zookeeper

Odds are, youve been to a zoo before.

If youre like me when I was a kid, you might be disappointed to find that the lions and tigers dont fight, roar, or do much of anything besides yawn and lounge around. If youre really lucky, you might just see one of them lift their heads enough to nibble at an old piece of chewed up meat that they have lazily tucked between their paws. To an onlooker, it would seem like these wild animals have lost their natural ferocity. However, it is easy to forget that these animals, as well as many others, are nocturnal. You might be surprised to see what a zoo looks like at night. I consider myself very lucky to have had the privilege of seeing this firsthand.

I have worked as a zookeeper for almost six years to date. Like many zookeepers, in order to avoid interfering with the experiences of the guests, I did all my work at night after the gates were closed. After all, who wants to go to a zoo only to see a tiger get tranquilized and tested for disease?

Most of the time during my shifts, I would walk to and from enclosures, observe the animal life there, and write down in my log book about any strange behavior I might find. It is during these times that I see, from behind the security of a chain link fence or glass window, the incredibly active and brutal lifestyles of many of the nocturnal creatures. Males paired together will often fight and growl at each other. Big cats, especially, tend to eye me hungrily, despite being surrounded by uneaten food that litters their pens at all times. Ive never been scared by them, but as I walk by their pens, it is unsettling to notice dozens of pairs of eyes gleaming back at me through the darkness, despite how safe I know I am behind the impenetrable fences. They must know it too as they have never attempted to escape or attack me.

During my free time, I made friends with the three night guards that were in charge of keeping out any teenagers dumb enough to try and sneak in after hours. We talked a lot about the zoo and popular rumors surrounding it. The place itself is old. Apparently, it was originally built to be a storage facility for circus animals in the 19th century. Combine that with the fact that its situated on the outskirts of a small town in rural Nevada, and it becomes easy to believe some of their more outlandish tales and theories.

They told me about accidents that apparently took place years ago, like the time when a worker was feeding crocodiles until he slipped from the catwalk and joined his chickens as a part of the crocodiles diet. They even told me about how an inexperienced night manager once accidentally set loose a wild grisly bear that killed him and snuck into town, killing several others under the cover of night before being shot by the police.

But by far the most interesting thing they told me was about how some of the animals would just disappear in the middle of the night, never to be seen again. This especially caught my attention because, not only had this phenomena been documented in the log books of previous night managers, but I myself had encountered this same issue within my first month of working there when a resident of the monkey cage had vanished between my first and second routine inspections of the night. After double checking, I had assumed that it had somehow gotten out, but when I brought the issue to head management in the morning, I was floored when they frankly told me not to worry about it. Unlike the night guards who thought that ghosts were involved, I had a feeling that zoo management had something to do with it. Nevertheless, since my employer didnt seem to care, neither would I. As months passed, I noticed that more animals seemed to vanish almost systematically. But not even the disappearance of an elderly lion seemed to worry management at all.

Aside from rumors, the night guards introduced me to the facilities. I have a lot of good memories within the employe lounge and their secret lounge, which was just a cramped little room with a TV. They showed me every bathroom and maintenance building that I would need to use in order to perform my duties. Just when I thought I had a good grasp of where every building was and what they were each for, I noticed at the end of my shift one morning, as the first gleams of the sun illuminated the horizon, a distant building that could only be seen if you looked in just the right direction from a certain corner of the zoo. It was absent on every map we had and my boss would just brush me off if I ever asked him about it. The structure was only one story high and, upon closer inspection with some binoculars that one of the night guards lent me, it had no windows at all. There were no roads or paths that lead to it, and I had never seen anyone use it in any way. It was decent in size and I thought it was strange that a building like that would be inaccessible and nearly invisible to visitors and workers such as myself.