"The Last Five Minutes" [3 ❤️]

Hi, I'm D.L. Dare. Recently, I came up with a writing challenge for myself. With 52 weeks in a year, there are 52 cards in a deck, aside from Jokers. I made a list where whatever card I draw, there's a random prompt for it. And I have a week to put a story together. The prompt list can be found in my pinned posts.

This week, I randomly drew a 3 for Job Related, and a Heart for Science Fantasy! I present to you, the bone-chilling tale of 'The Last Five Minutes!'

        Walking down the chip aisle at the gas station wasn't usually dreadful. Not if everyone is cleaning up after themselves. I sighed as I had to pick up yet another busted bag of potato chips. I tossed it into the nearest garbage can and carried on sweeping the rest of the aisle. I dumped the dustpan and returned to the counter as I heard the door chime. Another customer.

Standing behind the register, my eyes followed the man who had just walked in. He seemed to just be grabbing a drink. Why did he look so nervous? He must not be from around here.

He came up to the register, his eyes darting around the store as if he had never been in a gas station before.

"Is that all for ya?" I asked, swiping his soda bottle against the scanner.

"Yes, that's all," he replied, shakily grabbing for the money in his wallet.

"Okay, that's gonna be..." I trailed off, telling him his total from the computer. He handed me a few ones. I opened the drawer, ready to count back his change, but he urged me to keep it. I thanked him and told him to have a good day, but the door closed before I could finish my sentence.

"What a jerk," I said under my breath.

"What's his problem?" My co-worker, Jamie said, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. I tried hiding the fact that he'd scared me.

"I don't know," I said. "Probably having an off day just like everyone else around here."

"Oh, you mean with there apparently being a serial killer on the loose?" He let out a laugh. "Jexas, you don't seriously believe in what they're saying, do you?"

"I don't know, man," I said, stepping back out to the store. I still had some cleaning left to do. Of course, Jamie followed close behind. "I mean, there are more people turning up dead around here."

"And you know why that's actually happening, don't you?" he asked. I rolled my eyes. I know he's a conspiracy nut, but the theories he comes up with are more annoyingly political than I would like.

"Let me guess," I said sarcastically. "It's the government trying to cull the population."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said, draping an arm around my shoulder, half hanging off of me. "I think the police are targeting people of a certain demographic-"

"Okay, stop," I cut him off. "You do realize how disrespectful that sounds, right?"

"Hey, sometimes the truth is hard to hear," he said before walking off. I rolled my eyes at him.

I carried on with my nightly cleaning. I swept and dumped another clump of dust and a mess of random hairs. I let out a sigh, letting my shoulders droop down as I walked my broom back to the supply closet. Scanning the room, I spotted it, the mop.

I let out another sigh, desperately not wanting to do much more. Maybe I can get away with not doing mopping the floors, just this once. I knew I couldn't though. That would be the first thing that the morning shift would complain about. The last thing I needed was to be talked down to by a bunch of know-it-alls.

I grabbed the mop from the supply closet and went to fill up the bucket. As I was making my way back up front, I heard the doorbell go off. Another customer was coming in. Taking a glance at the guy, he looked sketchy as all hell. He had a dark trench coat that was too loose for his build. He had a scraggly brown beard with patches of grey. He looked like he was trying hard to hide his face, but he wasn't doing a very good job.

As he walked to the back of the store, he kept his eyes locked on me, glaring. What was his deal?

I tried keeping an eye on him as he picked out some snacks. He didn't seem to be doing anything too far out of the ordinary. I kept my distance, moving my mop and bucket to the aisle next to him. It's not often, but every once in a while we will get someone in that tries to steal something. You can never be too safe.

It looked as if he had decided because I heard the sound of a crinkling chip bag before I spotted him making his way up to the register.

As he stood there, the man looked over the store before his cold eyes fell on me. I looked around, hoping that Jamie could take care of him, but it looked like I was the only one who could. I rolled my eyes, placing my mop down into the bucket before walking behind the counter.

I scanned his bag of chips. They were barbeque. How original, I thought.

"Is that all for you today?" I asked in my tired customer service voice.

He nodded in response as he reached back into his jacket pocket. I looked at the register screen and read him his total. Looking back up, my heart nearly stopped. He had a gun pointed right between my eyes. I then heard a click as he cocked it.

"W-what-" I stammered, scared to death.

"Give me all your money," he demanded in a thick New York accent, his face red with rage.

"B-But we don't keep th-that much in-" I stammered, trembling, my eyes locked on the gun that was held so close to my face.

"I DON'T CARE!" he shouted. "GIVE ME ALL OF THE DAMN MONEY!"

"Okay, okay," I said, shaking like crazy. My heart was racing a mile a minute. I didn't want to die, not like this!

I typed the code into the register and the drawer sprang open with a clanking of coins. I grabbed all of the cash I could get with my shaky hands and set it all on the counter. I started doing the same with the change when he barked at me that he didn't need it. I apologized, holding back tears, before scooping the change back into the drawer.

I closed the drawer and watched as he stuffed the money into his pockets. He then moved the camera away from me and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"You did the right thing, kid," he said with his heavy New York accent.

I watched as he walked over to the door to leave. He then turned around to face me, brought the gun back to face me, and pulled the trigger, the shot ringing out through the store.

***

I closed my eyes. I screamed and screamed as I cried out in pain. I was dead, I had to be dead!

"Dude, are you alright?" asked a familiar voice. Jamie?

I opened my eyes and saw that I was standing in the chip aisle, holding a broom and dustpan. Jamie had his arm draped over my shoulder. I nearly dropped the broom in surprise, as I was not where I was standing just a few moments ago. Was I going crazy?

"Did you see that guy with a gun?" I asked, looking frantically around the store. It was just me and him, nobody else looming amongst the shelves.

"Okay, I know you're losing it, man," he chuckled. "It's just been us two all night."

"Has it?" I asked, taking one last glance around the store. I was still a bit shaken up about the whole ordeal.

"Well, besides a few stragglers here and there," he said. "It's been a pretty slow night. Are you feeling alright, man?"

I nodded. I tried regaining my composure after realizing how unhinged I must look.

"Hey, I gotta go to the back and do some private business in the men's room, if you know what I'm saying," he said, walking backward, shooting me a goofy but trying-to-be cool kind of look.

"Gross," I half chuckled. "Keep that to yourself, dude."

"Hey," he said as he walked through the bathroom door, his voice growing more distant. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

I rolled my eyes. Sometimes I question my friendship with that guy.

I noticed that my dustpan seemed pretty full. Was there more to sweep, I wondered. I looked around and everything looked pretty clean.

I walked over to one of the trash cans and dumped it out. I knew I needed to mop the floor next, but I decided to take a step back from cleaning. My attention was turned to the outside window. The sun was just beginning to set, leaving the sky looking a beautiful orange and purple. It almost felt relaxing to just catch my breath from the exhaustion of my job and admire the world's beauty.

My attention to the sky was cut short by a man in a trench coat as he walked down the sidewalk and toward the store. His hands were in his pockets and his eyes seemed to be darting around.

"Wait," I said to myself. "Isn't that the guy from before?"

When his gaze shifted to me, I got my answer. It was unmistakably the same guy that shot me in my daydream. Was it even a dream? It felt so real.

As he approached the door, my gut instinct was to not let him in. I made a mad dash to the double doors in the front of the store and turned the lock. I then darted out of the view of the windows, hoping he didn't notice me.

I looked up from behind the shelf that I hid and glanced out the window towards the front door. The man looked to be struggling with it, becoming increasingly angered. He then stopped thrashing against the door and peered inside the store. Maybe if he saw that nobody was here, he'd think we were closed, I thought.

That's when I saw his eyes meet mine. His angered face shifted into a twisted smile. I saw him pull a gun out of his pocket and begin shooting at the glass of the door. It shattered in an instant, the gunshots echoing through the store. I was frozen in fear, my heart beating a mile a minute. I watched him with intense fear as he made his way into the store. He turned to face me, his gun pointed straight at my face.

"YOU!" he barked, his thick New York accent making it sound intense. "GIVE ME ALL THE MONEY IN THE REGISTER!"

I stood up slowly, my hands raised. I made a few careful steps toward the register, afraid to see what would happen if I didn't. The last time, it was all a dream when I was shot. This time around could be my true end.

"HURRY!" he demanded. I immediately quickened my pace, clumsily making my way behind the counter. With shaky hands, I typed the code into the keypad and the drawer shot open with an aggressive ding.

I blindly grabbed handfuls of cash from the drawer and sat them on the counter. He walked over, the gun still grasped in one hand. He began shoveling the bills into his pocket. I reached for the change, but he cut me off, telling me that he didn't need it.

This situation felt strangely familiar. This is almost beat for beat the same encounter I had had in my daydream, I thought. And I knew exactly what was going to happen next.

As he made his way to the door, his feet crushing the glass beneath, he turned to me and said, "You did good, kid." He then raised the gun that was clasped tight in his hand and aimed straight for my head. Then, he pulled the trigger. Pain ricocheted through my body and then everything went dark.

***

The darkness was drowned out quickly by the light of the store as it crept closer into focus. I could hear my co-worker, Jamie, talking about something familiar.

"You've got to be kidding me!" I said, disgruntled. "It wasn't a dream, it was real?!"

"Yeah man," Jamie replied. "This conspiracy is insane."

"No, that's not what I'm talking about," I responded, followed by a sigh. "I thought I was having a daydream, or deja-vu or something, but it's not. I'm stuck in a time loop. That or I'm having premonitions or something. I don't know what's happening, man."

"Whoa, calm down!" he said, stepping closer to me, and draping his arm over my shoulder. "Are you on your meds?"

I swiped his hand away. "My meds? Do you think I'm crazy or something?"

"Well, you aren't exactly making sense, bud," he said. "What makes you think you're living in a time loop anyway?"

"You're not going to believe me," I said.

"Dude, with every conspiracy and article I've read up on, alternate universes and all, you'd be surprised what I believe," he replied. "Try me."

"Okay," I said. I took a deep breath as I tried recalling everything that had happened. "So, there's this man in a trench coat that is going to come by in probably five minutes. He's going to grab some chips and walk up to the counter. He's going to point a gun at me and demand all of the money in the register. After I give it to him, he shoots me and I die."

There was silence as he eyed me up and down. This filled me with some kind of anxiety. He's the only other person I can rely on in this situation. If he doesn't believe me, I have no idea what I'll do.

Finally, he broke the silence. "So when you die, you're sent back here, to this very moment?" he asked, looking incredibly interested.

I nodded in response.

"And where am I when all of this goes down?" he asked.

"You're in the bathroom," I replied.

"You know what, I think I'm convinced," he said. "Because right now I do kinda gotta go."

A feeling of dread flooded me. I couldn't tell if this was some kind of sarcasm with plans to leave me alone to face my doom once again. I don't think I can handle being shot again.

"Have you tried calling the police when the guy comes around?" he asked.

I shook my head. "It never really crossed my mind. I was just so terrified of the whole situation."

Just then, as if on cue, a man with a trench coat walked into the store. Jamie and I both watched him as he walked over to the chip aisle. The man didn't look at us. He seemed focused on his task at hand.

"Okay, if you're sure that this is what you experienced before and he is going to kill you," he said in a hushed voice. "You go to the back room and call the cops. I'll try and keep him distracted until the police arrive."

"I really don't think that's a good idea," I said with utmost sincerity.

"It'll be fine," he assured me. "I deal with angry customers all the time. Just keep them talking. You'd be surprised how much these kinds of guys like to spill their guts to any listening ear."

I looked at him and then looked back to the guy in the trench coat. I didn't feel good about it, but I knew that it was worth a shot.

"Now go," he said, motioning me to the back office.

I clutched my broom and dustpan and walked behind the counter. As I walked, I looked out to the rest of the store, secretly wishing Jamie the best.

I walked back into the back office, where the store manager's desk was. I knew that this was where the only phone in the building was. I shut the door and leaned the broom and dustpan against the corner of the room. My heart was racing as I grabbed the phone and dialed 9-1-1. This was the first time I had ever made a call to them for any kind of emergency. I lived a very tame and somewhat uneventful life, so emergency services were the one thing I was least familiar with.

I heard a ringing tone before it was shortly cut off by a female voice.

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?" she asked

"I need help," I blurted out nervously. I looked over to the single computer screen as it displayed a shot of Jamie behind the counter, talking to the man in the trench coat.

"There's a man here and he's trying to rob us," I continued. "He has a gun."

"Where are you calling from?" she asked, her tone being that of concern.

"I'm at the 'Save Time' gas station," I replied. "The one across the road from the bank."

"Thank you for cooperating," she said kindly. "I have people heading that way right now. Can you tell me what the man is doing right now?"

With my eyes still on the camera screen, I responded, "Yeah, he's standing at the front counter. He's demanding all the money out of the register. It looks like the person behind the register is handing him the money."

"Oh my god!" I shouted, covering my mouth in horror.

"Sir, what's happened?" asked the woman on the phone. She sounded panicked. "Is the man doing something?"

"Y-yeah, he just pulled a gun out of his pocket and has it pointed right at the person behind the register," I replied, staring in horror at the situation. I felt a pit in my stomach. He's about to die just like I had. This is all my fault.

"You need to stay calm, sir," she said. "The police are almost there, just stay on the line with me, okay?"

Then, I heard a gunshot ringing out throughout the store. The shot lingered in my ears as my heart dropped. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as I saw Jamie's body collapse onto the floor. The man in the trench coat ran out the door and left.

I dropped the phone and ran out of the room and toward Jamie. I knelt down next to him, a knot forming in my throat. I began to cry, hot tears streaming down my cheeks.

This is all my fault, I told myself. I should have never let him do this. Before I'd even had a chance to mourn him, I saw the lights flickering before they all went out at once.

Please tell me this is time resetting once again, I pleaded. I can't bear to lose him.

***

The light began to overtake the darkness of the room as I was, once again, taken back to where I was standing five minutes prior. I found myself leaning against my broom, Jamie looming over me.

As reality began to sink back in, awakening me back to a normal state of mind, I looked over to Jamie with a look of joy. I may have had a tear forming in my eye, but I ignored it. I was so overjoyed to see him alive again. I leaned toward him and gave him a hug, holding him tight.

"Whoa, what's up with you," he half chuckled, standing frozen. I imagined him with the most confused look on his face but I didn't care. I was happy to see him again.

I let him go and looked him up and down. He looked so lost.

"I didn't think a conspiracy theory would get you so worked up, Jexas," he chuckled after some awkward silence.

"I'm gonna be honest, Jamie. I don't even remember what you were talking about," I joked.

"You're a great listener, you know that?" he smiled in response. "But for real though, man, what got you in a hugging kind of mood all of a sudden?"

"I would say, 'You wouldn't believe me if I told you,' but you kind of already did believe me," I replied.

"Okay, why are you being so mysterious right now?" he asked.

I took a deep breath, trying to piece together the best way to tell him quickly so I didn't spend so much time convincing him in every loop.

"Okay, so I'm in some kind of a time loop," I explained. "It goes on for about five or so minutes. I wake up in the middle of our conversation, and a few minutes from now a guy in a trench coat is going to try to rob the store and then shoot me."

There was silence for a moment. He had an eyebrow raised as he looked me over. Was I too forward about the whole situation? Was there a chance he wouldn't believe me this time around?

"So, let's say I did believe you," he said, suspicious of me. "Why didn't you rush past me and call the cops when you woke up?"

"I tried that last time," I said. "It takes them longer than five minutes to show up."

"And what else have you tried?" he asked. I felt reassured, as he seemed pretty into this idea.

"I tried locking him out but he just busted out the glass and broke in anyway," I replied. "That's about it."

"Is there anything I can do to help then?" he asked. "What do I usually do in these situations?"

"Well, you're usually in the bathroom," I said. "But last time you tried to help, you ended up getting shot instead of me," I said that last part glumly, choking back a tear.

He looked me over again. "So, if keeping him out doesn't stop him and calling the police does nothing," he said. "What if you tried fighting back?"

"Are you crazy?!" I shouted. "Fighting a dude with a gun?!"

"I mean, if you know you get shot at the end of this anyways, it might be worth a shot, right?" he said.

"I guess you're right," I said reluctantly, rolling my eyes. "It's just terrifying to think about, you know?"

Jamie looked around at the shelves behind me as he was deep in thought. He then began to walk down the aisle toward the back of the store. My eyes followed him as he walked down an aisle a few down from me. What was he up to? I asked myself.

I saw him pick something up off the shelf and walk back to me, looking around to ensure it was just us two in the store.

As he returned, I saw him carrying a bottle of some kind. It was tall and white, like a bottle of sunscreen.

"Okay," he said, placing the bottle in my hands. Turning it over, I saw that it was bug spray. "When he points his gun at you, spray him in the eyes. When he's blinded, take the gun from him. We have zip ties in the back, so we can tie him up somewhere and wait for the police to arrive."

I looked over the bottle once more before looking up at him. It did sound crazy, but it's better than any idea I could have come up with, outside of beating him up with my broom and dustpan. This idea seemed so much more realistic.

"So, what are you going to be doing?" I asked, clutching the spray bottle in my hand.

"I'm going to be in the back office," he replied. "I'll try and get the police out here, and I'll be able to keep an eye on you through the cameras. If it looks bad, I'll come out and help if I can."

I wanted to urge him away from trying to help, but I felt confident enough in the spray that his coming out might not be necessary.

We were distracted by the sound of the bell sounding as someone walked through the door. I had a feeling I knew who it was. Turning toward the new customer, sure enough, it was the man in the trench coat.

Jamie and I looked at each other and nodded. We knew what we needed to do and where we needed to be.

Without saying a word to each other, he and I walked behind the counter. He went to the back office and shut the door behind him. I stood behind the register, my eyes locked on the man in the trench coat.

It didn't take long for him to make his usual selection of chips before making his way to the register. I was ready for him.

He laid the bag of chips down and I scanned it. He looked outside, hoping for no uninvited guests to his party of pain. He then reached into his back pocket and came back with his gun. He pointed it right at my forehead.

"Give me all the money from the register!" he demanded with his heavy New York accent.

I entered the code as he so demanded, taking a few deep breaths to remain calm. As the drawer slid out with a ding, it caught the man's attention. Now seemed to be the best chance I had to get him, so I quickly raised the bug spray and shot it directly into his eyes.

Immediately, he shut them, using his free hand to try to wipe it away. He then pulled his other hand close, the gun still clutched tightly. He tried wiping frantically. With him fully distracted, I grabbed the broom I had lying next to me and swung for the gun. It took very little effort for it to fly out of his hand. He let out a growl of anger.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he barked. "You're dead, kid!"

The gun landed behind the counter, not too far from where I stood. As it seemed that he had his vision cleared and ready to focus back on me, I had already picked up the gun. I pointed it directly at him, just as he had done to me. He had his hands raised.

"Okay, kid," he said, his voice a little shaken. "We can talk about this!"

I stepped out from behind the counter, my line of sight never straying from him for a moment. He backed away as I slowly stepped closer.

"Do you realize the pain that you've put me through?" I said, my voice on full display of how angry I was. "You made me watch my best friend die!"

"I- I have no idea what you're talking about," he pleaded.

"You wouldn't, would you?" I said. "But I remember. I remember every agonizing moment that you made me relive. Well, you know what? I'm tired of this! I want to move on! I want my life back!"

In a fit of rage, I blindly pulled the trigger. The shot rang in my ears in the same moment the recoil struck me, jolting me into the reality of what I had just done. I had just killed a man. I watched as his body collapsed to the ground. His body lay unmoving, blood seeping out of the opened wound.

I heard a sound from behind me. Jamie left the office and ran over to me, a look of shock and worry on his face. "What have you done?"

My mouth hung open in response. I was at a loss for words. I never intended to kill anyone, I was just so angry that it just happened.

That's when I saw the flashing red and blue lights. I closed my eyes, praying for the loop to begin again. I would do it right this time, I thought. Nobody would have to die.

When I opened my eyes, I saw the cops walking through the front door. They looked at me with the gun, a distraught look on my face. Then they looked at the collapsed body opposite me. They knew what I had done, and they arrested me on the spot.