Where’s the Rest of it?

By Francis Joseph LaManna

Horror, Short Story Fiction

The night I passed out from fear is one I’ll never forget. It was late at night, or rather early in the morning, probably around 2 o’clock. I was working an overnight shift, and I just left the building for my lunch hour.

The place I worked at was located in a busy district of large city that seemed to be open around the clock, and that just added to shock of what I saw. There are some things you never expect to see in place that heavily populated all hours of the day and night.

It was the third week of October and those warm summer breezes that swept through the city were long gone. The air was brisk with a slight chill to it-not exactly coat weather, but sweatshirt or long sleeves for sure.

Knowing I only had an hour for lunch, and ten minutes of that break was spent getting out of the building, I was basically speed walking. Through the darkness of the early morning and the crowds of people still out for a good time, I walked with my head down. I hated that I needed to rush. The city was illuminated with antique gas lamps, which gave it a colonial look. It was nostalgic and beautiful.

There was a convenient store two block away, and that was my destination. Wasting no time when I arrived there, I barreled through the doors avoiding the comments from the customers who were on their way out.

“You don’t have to be so rude,” they yelled.

Whatever. I didn’t take long for me to pick out my order because I usually get the same thing every time I go there, iced tea, a turkey sandwich, and a bag of potato chips. Some people say I’m a creature of habit, but I think I’m just superstitious.

So, here I was, back outside in the store’s parking lot enjoying my turkey sandwich at 2 o’clock in the morning. When I was finished eating, I put all the garbage into the bag my order was placed in, and I was about to toss that bag into the dumpster. Like I usually do.

The convenient store had one of those 10-yard roll off containers on the premises. It was the kind of dumpster that was open at the top with a big heavy door on the side, which was always closed..

but, not tonight.

As I got close to the container, I saw a sneaker sticking out from the side. The heavy metal door was ajar. I continued to approach the dumpster because from where I was standing, it looked like someone threw a sneaker in the box and it fell out of the side.

Well, I paused dead in my tracks. A leg was attached to the sneaker. I was terrified, and for a second a thought about turning around to get someone from inside the store, but I was frozen. I couldn’t move.

A brisk October morning suddenly turned bitter cold, and as I stood there shaking from fear, I was hit with the bug of intrigue. Shall I go further? I thought about it for a second, and because I was already so close to this leg, all I had to do was lean forward.

I did, and that’s all there was! It was a sneaker with a foot in it that was attached to half of a leg.

“Where’s the rest of it,” were the last words I muttered before passing out.

The End

Where’s the Rest of it is a short story fiction written on August 24, 2023 by Francis Joseph LaManna, and published for the first time on Nooz Buffet dot com.

Copyright

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Francis Joseph LaManna