Jake had been driving for over 3 hours now, horrible lost in what looked like a deserted wasteland. Nothing but sand dirt and tumble
weeds
could be seen for miles around. Worse still, he was almost out of gas, and needed desperately to use the bathroom. Hoping to see any
form
of civilization soon, he kept driving. Following the old road straight on until finally he rolled up to what seemed to be an old rest-stop.
He could tell there was no use trying to get any gas from the ancient pump in the middle of the lot, as it wasn’t even attached to its
base.
The rest of the lot didn’t look much better. There was a small cement brick building with 3 doors and no windows. One door had a sign
with
one of those little pictographs depicting a stick figure with a skirt. Obviously the ladies room. The second door seemed to be for the
maintenance/storage area as he could see mops and boxes and such strewn about inside. The third door was hanging off its hinges
slightly,
and had not a picture, but the words “Men’s Room” in rusted iron letters nailed to the top. Jake was practically peeing himself at this
point,
so he bolted into the men’s room and immediately ran to a urinal.
Jake is a small guy. 19 years old, maybe 125lbs. He had a runner’s build with sandy blond hair in a floppy mess in his head. Piercing
green
eyes and a slightly pale completion made him look as if he hadn’t seen much sun in a while. Wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a blue
and
white plaid button down shirt finished off his appearance.
As he stood there relieving hours of pent up pressure, he started to feel uncomfortable. As if he as being watched. From what he had
seen
as he rushed in, there was no one else around, but he still had this nagging supposition that something wasn’t right. And boy was he
right!
The rest of the room was almost pitch black. The dim bulb in the ceiling only lit up the urinals and a sink, leaving most of the room in
darkness. It was a nasty disgusting place. Dirt and any many of grime was all over every surface. The toilets looked like they hadn’t been
cleaned in years, and the mirrors were caked with muck. There was the distinct smell of urine that pierced your nose as you breathed,
laced
with the slight aroma of smoke. Many a cigarette had obviously been puffed in here. Typical men's room. Men just didn’t have the
decency
to clean after themselves.
Jake finished up, shaking his modest 6incher and packed it back into his jeans. He headed over to the sink, when something stopped
him
suddenly. It was a voice. A growl almost, coming from the last stall in the dark corner of the room.
“Ay bitch boy what’chu doin in ‘ere! This ‘ere’s the MENS room! You ain’t no Man!” The voice growled
Paniced, Jake responded shakily, “Uh… I, I’m just leaving Sorry.”
Just then, the voice laughed. Quite an evil laugh at that, and the door to the Men’s room slammed shut. Jake Bolted for the door, but no
matter how hard he pushed, it just wouldn’t open. The smell of smoke was getting stronger as the voice laughed. But it wasn’t cigarettes.
It
was the rancid stink of a cigar. And it seemed to be getting stronger by the second.
“P..p..please I just wanna leave” Jake stuttered in terror.
But the voice just laughed louder. Then, it stopped. From the stall, a cloud of thick grey smoke emerged, it filled half the room before it
started to dissipate, and standing there, was the largest man Jake had ever seen. Around 6’9” 285lbs of thick furry man-meat was
encased in a
leather vest and torn stained dark blue jeans. Gigantic black boots that glinted in the dim light encased what had to be size 15 or so feet.
The
man’s face was all but buried in dark beard and the top of his head could be seen clearly, as it was reflecting the rotted ceiling tiles like
a
mirror. He was glaring down at Jake with pure malice in his eyes. He knew what was going to happen, and he loved every second of it.
The man picked Jake up by his collar, and growled, “This ‘ere’s for MEN only! You ain’t a man… but ya will be!”