I have a decently standard job. I sit behind the register from 10PM to 6AM five days a week, restock the shelves, collect and provide change, occasionally help someone fill up their car, and mostly just try to prevent a fire from breaking out. And then, there are the supernatural entities that pass through.

I get my fair share of normal customers, too. Being the only rest stop for miles upon miles of grassy expanses means that the homeless, the drunks, the truckers, the occasional road-tripping family, and everyone in between passes through. Don't get me wrong, it's not like they're anywhere close to easy to deal with, but they're practically puppies and rainbows compared to the other things I've had to put up with.

Last week in particular was exceptionally tiring, even for a night shift. I don't actually mind the hours— in truth, it's one of the main reasons I took the job. I've been an insomniac all my life and I've begun to prefer the night anyway, so that and the extra cash for the effort of it has always been an added bonus.

It was around 2 AM last Wednesday night, and I had spent most of the night slumped over the counter scrolling through my phone. It had been quiet thus far; the last customer had been a biker who had come in around 11 PM, picked up a pack of Pampers, and been on his way. I had just begun recounting the cash in the register for the fifth time when I heard the ding of the bell on the door and immediately jolted upright, a hand snaking into the drawer at my desk.

The door swung open, sending it into the doorstopper and revealing a rather slender young woman dressed plainly. She gave me a small nod and headed into one of the snack aisles. I reorganized the money in the register and waited until the woman reappeared, holding three family-size bags of chips, a large bottle of soda, and some assorted bags of candy. I rung her up and grabbed a plastic bag for her before reading her the total.

The woman gave me a nervous smile and began rifling through the tote bag she was carrying, a worn-in canvas bag that looked handmade. Now that she was closer, I could see that the polo shirt she was wearing was clearly five sizes too big for her as well and looked very lived in. However, any of the shabbiness of her outfit was immediately lost to the gorgeous sight that was the woman's hair. It was silky, pitch black, and long— past her waist, disappearing behind her shirt.

My thoughts were interrupted by the woman counting out and putting down the exact amount of the total, change included. I counted it myself before inputting everything into the register.

"Would you like your receipt, ma'am?"

The woman looked up at me with woeful dark eyes and then opened her mouth, as if to say something, before closing it. She nodded to the floor, practically grabbed the bag, and ran. I shrugged it off and continued on passing the time. No one else came by until about half an hour later, when the bell signaled another customer. I looked up and saw the same woman again, sans the grocery bag. She looked paler than before and seemed to walk cautiously as she once again passed me and went into the store. I returned to my phone as soon as she disappeared from my sight.

It had been well over five minutes when I heard it.

Gnashing and crunching, like a metal object had been thrown into an industrial shredder. But at the same time, it was far too fresh to be anything mechanical. I was standing before my brain had fully processed what was going on, hand immediately under the drawer. It was stocked with all manner of items, but I didn't know quite what to go for. After a moment of deliberation, I grabbed the handgun, a decently sized semi-automatic that I hadn't bothered to learn the name of, and began to investigate the noise— it didn't take me long to find its root.

The woman was within one of the snack aisles, hunched over on the floor and almost on all fours. Around her, the floor was coated with the remnants of shredded chip bags, crumbs, and any other manner of food waste one could imagine. Her head was facing the ground, eyes glazed over and mouth pulled into a tight-lipped grimace.

That mouth, at least. To my horror, there was a gaping mouth from the nape of the woman's neck reaching partway up her head. It had veiny, pulsating lips and altogether too many teeth, all of which were yellow and jagged and covered with all manner of food. Her hair, her beautiful and luscious hair, was floating above the woman and ravaging the shelves. I was almost transfixed as different strands of it seemingly moved on their own to shove food down the gullet of the other mouth.

The sight was only second to the sound. Now up close, I could hear the full extent to the woman's feeding. I could hear every squish and crunch, every slurp of content and shill screech when not being immediately sated, even some rumbles that almost hinted at digestion, however that would work. I managed not to scream, backing up immediately and running back to the front counter. I ducked underneath the desk and began rifling through the drawer below it, which housed all of the "in case of emergency" necessities.

I panicked — I had never seen anything like her before and I had no earthly idea how to deal with it. I don't remember why I choose salt, maybe just pure adrenaline, but I managed to roughly lay out a barrier around myself and started frantically racking my brain for anything that I could do. I heard the horrible sounds get closer and fought the urge to screw my eyes shut impulsively, instead peeking through the gap where the drawer didn't quite cover. I watched the woman stagger out the door, mouth half-covered by the silky hair that I couldn't quite see the end of. It was still gnashing, albeit much slower. I could see bits of various foods still clinging to the teeth and skin around the mouth, but the hair remained eerily pristine. I stayed there for a good ten minutes after she had left before reassuming my post at the desk and resigning myself to a night of cleaning up the mess that I'd been left with. Luckily, the rest of the shift went on without incident and I was able to make some headway on the snack aisle before passing the baton to one of my coworkers.

I've dealt with my fair share of creatures and entities before, but this experience left me feeling unusually rattled. Typically these encounters are benign or malignant, not some in-between that leaves me questioning who exactly I'm protecting myself against. I spent a good amount of time thinking about the woman, and I hope that she's doing alright. I decided to take some time off work and that's why I chose to catalogue some of my experiences online, whether it be as they come up or when ruminating upon past events.

I wish I could take a longer break, but I go back to work next week. I can only hope that it'll be a bit more peaceful.