The Wanderers
My first job was at a gas station in the town of Redwood in the midwest. It’s been my home town now for going on forty years. It’s not a town like most towns you see. We have a city hall/police department/fire department, Forest Joe’s the gas station, a bar, a hardware store, and a little school located in a house on main street which is the only street in town. Most of Redwood’s citizens lived on farms near the town or in cabins in the forest. There were and are around two hundred folks living nearby Redwood most of which call our tiny town home. At that time I was twenty five, young and dumb as my dad used to say. I’m not what you’d call a normal girl, most things don’t scare me and I’m not a girly girl. I like to dress up on occasion, but I live in my jeans, t-shirts, and biker boots. I’m not tall, or thin and I’m no model. I stand around four foot eleven inches tall and am tubby, not fat but not thin either. I have long Coffee colored hair and hazel eyes. My eyes have always been described as weird, wild or unusual because they could change color unexpectedly. One minute they’d be blue the next they were green or brown. It often happened when I was angry or sad. I was often called the human mood stone because of my odd eyes. I had the respect of my town because I wasn’t afraid of much. I’d help if someone went missing in the forest or if an accident occurred I’d offer comfort and aid to those involved. That’s just my nature. In fact, It is the nature of just about everyone in our little town. We’re a helpful bunch till you tick us off then you’re on your own. However, like any town we had our legends and lore. Some of which were old Native American tales. WIndigo and the like. Then there’s the wanderers, strange shadow like beings that have been described many different ways. People say that it starts with noises, the snapping of twigs, chanting, rocks hitting things like trees, homes, vehicles, ect. Then the whispers that soon seem like dozens of people screaming unintelligible things. The lucky folks escape with only those experiences, those not so lucky… end up joining wanders or so I’ve been told. Those who escape describe seeing shadow-like beings that appeared to be horrifically stretched humans walking aimlessly. They say if you make eye contact something happens, You wander into their mist in some form of trance and vanish. I’ve never seen them myself, but I don’t disregard the tales or the number of folks who enter the forest on day hikes or camping trips and never return. We in Redwood, never go into the forest without an offering of sorts, tobacco is the best. We rarely spend long periods in the forest and no one camps in the forest. If we want to go camping, the local campground is our choice. Many outsiders call us superstitious, but if you spent your entire life in Redwood you’ll have seen things that would make you superstitious overnight. There are many creatures in towns nearby no one has caught or explained like the Beast of Bray Road and Peppie, itself. So strange things are nothing new around Redwood. In truth Redwood is a farming town several miles from the Great River surrounded by farmland to the north and west. It is bordered by forest to the south and east. As anyone who lives near the forest can attest to, there is no limit to the strange tales told by locals. Including but not limited to sasquatch, dogmen, devil cats, hauntings, Red eyes, etc. So it’s nothing new to have a hunter, camper or hiker going on about something lurking in the forest nearby. For the most part the town seemed to be the safe place. None of the things in the woods ever seemed to come into town. Until one fateful night that is. I was working my normal shift at the gas station. Stocking coolers, filling ice, running the register, basically whatever was needed. Things had started out normal, nothing unusual, so I just did the job like I always do. I should note that Forest Joe’s is on the north side of town right at the edge of the forest. If you go out back to take out the trash you practically are in the woods which wrap around the little station with the exception of the highway that runs past the front and into town. Like I said I had never had any trouble in the time I’d been working there other than the typical visitors like bears, coons, and such looking for a quick meal. The store itself was a small store, with a tiny closet like office in the back, tiny bathroom barely big enough for a toilet and sink, and a small room where the soda canisters for the fountain machine and Ice were. All down a twenty foot hallway. Also down that same Hallway was the entrance to the coolers. The rest of the store was the big room that held shelves of things you’d find in a gas station and of course the cash cage. In truth it looked like a tiny house converted into a gas station. I was allowed all the fountain pop I wanted and the boss kept plenty of snacks behind the cash cage. So I was set. He only had two rules: keep the radios on even when I left and only go out back to take out the trash. I never broke those rules. In fact I usually took out the trash before dark, less creepy that way and I didn’t have to contend with the resident moochers of the forest. No one wants to fight a bear for access to the dumpster. That day was no different except that I had to wait till dusk to run the trash out on account of a small rush. It seemed everyone was in a hurry to go to the campground. It was a Friday so I wasn’t worried, many liked to escape on a little weekend camping trip during the warm months. I finished with the last customer of the rush and began collecting the trash. One behind the counter, one under the fountain soda machine, one in the bathroom, and one in the office. ;I went out the back door in the office to the dumpster. It was already getting dark by that time. Not quite dark but still not full daylight either. I quickly flipped the bags into the dumpster and headed back. Not that I was scared but the back area around the dumpster always gave me the creeps. Especially, since there was only one light back there on the wall above the backdoor. As I hurried back, a noise caught my attention. Like someone shuffling around and walking on twigs. I hesitated at the back door and glanced over my shoulder. I could see shadows, long stretched out shadows that didn’t seem to belong to anyone. I knew I was the only one out there and one person didn’t cast that many shadows. That’s when the light flickered over the door and then went out leaving me in the near darkness. I soon began to hear whispers like hundreds of folks trying to talk at once. For the first time I panicked and struggled to open the door. The sound rose until it was unintelligible shouting. I kept my face averted, my body facing the door. I knew what would come next if I looked at them again. Suddenly the door lurched open and I nearly fell into the office. I kicked the door closed and locked it up tight, including the deadbolt my boss had added after he had his own experience at the store. I ran to the front and nearly collided with the counter as I saw the clock on the wall behind the register. Somehow, I had been outside for an hour. Now I know It only took a few minutes to run the trash out. I had been doing this same job since I was sixteen and it never took longer than a few minutes. This was crazy. Even though I was inside the store, I could still hear the unintelligible shouting outside. Shaking, I ran to the cash cage and flipped the switch for the magnetic lock the boss had installed. Then I locked myself inside the cash cage. I grabbed the phone and curled up on the floor. I dialed the boss’s number. It rang once, twice. “Hey, Lexie, what ya need?” Joe’s calm voice came over the line. My shivering calmed a little. “The wanderers are outside the store. I ran the trash out at dusk due to a rush and suddenly I could hear something behind me. When I glanced I saw more shadows than one person can make. The light above the back door went out and I began to hear people talking. They’re shouting now. I scrambled inside and locked the store down.” I gushed. Bam! Something hit the wall. Crack! Something hit the window. I crouched and peeked out the cash cage window. One window was cracked. “What the hell was that?” Joe demanded. “Things are being thrown at the store.” I answered and grabbed the crow bare joe kept beneath the counter for emergencies. This counted as such, I thought. “Hang on, I’m on my way, stay put, don’t go outside. I’m bringing the Sheriff. We will be there shortly.” Joe ordered. “Alright.” I shuddered. Just then I saw blue and red flashing lights out the window and stood up for a better look. “Joe! Deputy John Morrow is out there!” I ran for the cash cage door. Unlocked it and ran around in front of the counter trying to get his attention as he searched the area with his flashlight. I could hear Joe on the phone I had dropped. “Lexie! Lexie! What is going on? Lexie! Shit!” I heard him yell although I was trying to get the deputy’s attention. I watched in horror as he dove back into his car, slammed the door and ducked down as a large rock hit the top of the car killing the flashing lights. He crawled across the seat, saw me and waved me back away from the glass door. I watched as he got out of the car on the passenger side using the door for a shield. Popping up he fired a couple rounds into the forest across the highway and crouched again as another large rock flew out of the dark and crashed through the driver’s side door window landing in the seat next to the officer. He jumped and started running towards the store. I hurried and flicked the switch to let him in. He ducked inside as I came around the cash cage. “Lock it.” he ordered. So I did. We both backed around the cash cage. The deputy glanced at me. “I didn’t believe they were real till tonight,” he muttered. “That makes two of us.” I said and we both jumped as rock kept hitting the store. By this time, Joe had hung up. There was a loud crash and we both jumped. I peaked over the counter. “Dear God, the picture window is broken.” I gasped and the deputy pulled me back down. We could make out the words now. “Come join us, come walk with us.” the voices called now in a sing song chant instead of the yelling. They repeated over and over trying to lull us into cooperating. “Squawk! Deputy Morrow. Come in. What’s your status? Crackle” The deputy’s radio came to life breaking the spell. “Morrow here. There appears to be multiple individuals outside Forest Joe’s throwing large rocks and other projectiles at me, my car, the store, and anything else that moves. They appear to be chanting something. Hard to make out. The store clerk and I are pinned down inside the store.” He reported. At that moment another crash indicating one of the windows in the door had broken. “Shit.” He muttered. I could now see shadows on the walls. We huddled behind the counter. The deputy holding his gun and I holding the tire iron. We were trapped in the cash cage. “Squawk! Deputy stay where you are! Joe and I are heading to your location. Crackle!” The sheriff ordered over the radio. “Yes Sir.” The deputy answered. It was suddenly quiet. Too quiet. The deputy peeked up over the counter. Then he swore repeatedly and yanked his radio off his belt. “Sheriff, what’s your eta? We have a family walking toward the forest.” Then he ran around the counter to the door waving his arms and hollering, “Hey over here! Do not go into the woods! Do Not, I repeat, Do not go into the woods!” The family seemed to stop right in the middle of the highway confused. Then they turned and ran back to their car. They got in and peeled out. Taking off down the road. A large rock came flying at us and struck the deputy in the chest knocking him to the floor. I crawled out and grabbed him. I dragged him back behind the counter where he lay coughing. I couldn’t tell how injured he was. The radio was still playing. It was the only sound except the large rocks bombarding the store and the deputy’s police car. I had a sudden bit of inspiration and grabbed the radio off the counter. It had a CD player on it. Thank God. I grabbed a CD I bought at the local Native American powwow out of my bag. I stuck it in the CD player and turned it on then set it on the counter facing out and turned the volume up. The store was filled with Native American chanting, flutes and drums. I sat on the floor next to the deputy who was now sitting up rubbing his chest. As we sat there listening. It seemed the rocks had stopped, that everything had stopped. It was so eerily quiet except for the tape playing. A few minutes later, Joe and the Sheriff arrived. They picked their way to us as we now stood looking around. It looked as if a war had taken place at the store, glass everywhere, broken shelves, the mangled doors, destroyed police cruiser, and rocks the use of a small dog laying everywhere. It was an unreal scene. We gave our statements and the paramedics checked the deputy out. He was bruised up, but okay. The Paramedics told the Sheriff that the deputy was lucky he wasn’t seriously injured with the size of rocks being thrown. I left the tape playing and just turned it down. We never saw our attackers, just their shadows. Whoever they were, they weren’t just supernatural, They were very real. I couldn’t explain why the Native American Music ran them off either if it did. No one could explain that night. It took Joe several months to repair his store. After that Native American music always played at the store. I never had another run in with whatever had besieged the store and I don’t ever plan to. If I work a shift at the store I sleep there and leave in the daylight. I arrive in the daylight too and take out the trash in the morning in the daylight. What happened at the store became another mystery and legend around here. Especially with the deputy and I being considered the only victims of the wanderers to survive a full encounter. Credit: Ann Larual Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.