This is Unnerving…
We all have a story about something that’s unnerving, and I’m here to share those stories. So, without further ado, let’s get into it.
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Working at a scrapyard is hard work, and the work never really stops. Sometimes, just to get a bit of a break, I would take the night shift. All you have to do then is sit in the office and watch the cameras, and walk through the rows of cars once every hour. You also get to give lots of belly rubs and treats to Cinnamon. She’s our yard dog; a five-year-old Rottweiler that looks and sounds terrifying, but will probably just lick you to death.
This happened to me in early August 2012. It was around 11pm when I took my flashlight to go for my walk. Cinnamon trotted along happily, and everything was peachy. We saw a couple of Norway rats and some stray cats. Got back to the office and cracked a beer. An hour later, we walked again, and everything was a-okay. Same with the 1am walk. But when we got back from our 2am walk, I was feeling a bit uneasy. I couldn’t explain why, but something just felt off. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary while out, and thought maybe I was just tired. As I sat down, I saw something move on one of the screens. Any thought of being tired immediately flew out the window! I stared at the screen and saw a small figure run across from one row of cars to the next. I was confused why a child was in the yard at this time of the night.
The moment I got up to open the door, Cinnamon stepped in front of me and started growling towards the door. Her heckles were up. I’ve never seen that happen before. She’s a loving, happy-go-lucky dog. She would rather go sniff a flower than chase an animal. Seeing her act so out of character gave me pause. Whatever was outside of that door was bad news. It might’ve looked like a child running across the yard, but Cinnamon would be clawing her way through the door to go play with them if it was indeed a child. I slowly walked towards Cinnamon, talking to her in a comforting tone, when I heard a little voice right outside the door.
“Come play with me. I’m so alone.”
Cinnamon stopped growling and went completely limp. She slumped to the floor. I instantly forgot about whatever was outside that door and turned my full attention to Cinnamon. I panicked! She was barely breathing, but her eyes were wide with pure terror. I grabbed my car keys, scooped her up in my arms, and dashed to my car. As I lay her down on the backseat, something ice cold touched my back. Gooseflesh spread all over my body as I slowly turned around. A little girl in a long white dress stood before me. Her waist-length blonde hair seemed to shimmer, but the eyes that peered up at me were like pools of black ink.
“You’re outside. Now we can play.”
It was terrifying how such a small voice could be so undeniably evil. I slowly closed the car door behind me, shaking my head at the little girl. I never took my eyes off of her. Was she doing this to Cinnamon? Was that her way of getting me to come outside? I kept backing up until I reached the driver’s side, never letting her leave my sight. But in the split second I glanced down to open my door, she disappeared. I jumped into the car, locked the doors, and tore out of there. About halfway to the vet, my blood ran cold when I heard that little voice right behind me.
“You don’t have to worry about your doggie. She’ll be playing with me now.”
I whipped my head around, and those black ink pools stared back at me. The last thing I remember was that awful smile. Two tiny rows of needle-sharp teeth. Then everything went black as my car veered off the road and collided with a tree.
When they found me, I was alone in the car. No Cinnamon, no little girl. The camera footage bugged out at exactly 2am. I don’t work night shift anymore, but those that do say they sometimes hear Cinnamon barking, and the giggles of a little girl.
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That’s all for today. May the sun warm your face, and the moon light your way. If you would like to share your story with me, send it to unnerving13@gmail.com. Please remember to like, share, subscribe, and follow for more.
