Roadside Sarcophagus by Brandon Faircloth

Author:Brandon Faircloth [Faircloth, Brandon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Short Stories, .ISBNincl, Horror
Published: 2023-10-24T05:00:00+00:00

I see a finger poking out of the sofa.

I work at what was once called a “computer repair shop”, though the owners changed the branding to “tech repair shop” a few years back when they started seeing more phones and tablets than actual desktops. It’s not bad work overall. About half the problems are really simple fixes—rebooting the device, getting rid of some buggy software or app, that kind of thing. The other half we give to Melissa to figure out, as she’d forgotten more than I’d learned in the two years I’d been working there.

Occasionally we get people coming in with lost and found type stuff. Computers or phones that someone left behind or lost. People come in, sign a form saying they’ve made a diligent effort to find the original owner without success, and then we wipe the device for them when we can.

What we don’t tell them beforehand is that we usually check the devices before wiping them. Not trying to be nosy or anything, but our boss also doesn’t want the reputation of laundering stolen phones or damaging property without the owner’s permission. Sometimes we’re able to find a way of reaching the owner. If we do, we return the phone to whoever brought it in and tell them the info we found. After that it’s on them to do the right thing.

Other times the device’s owner isn’t as easy to figure out, and usually those do get wiped and restored. Unless, of course, we find something else strange on it. It doesn’t happen often. Once, Melissa found a computer with some bad shit on it that she reported to the cops, but that was before my time. And while I’d seen odd stuff from time to time, there was nothing that had ever really bothered or freaked me out.

But three weeks ago, I came into work to find a phone waiting to be cleaned. The paperwork was signed by Vince Teller. He was a regular. His cleaning company covered the rest stop and park bathrooms for fifty miles up and down the interstate, and over time I was becoming convinced he was making more money from selling second-hand smartphones than scrubbing toilets. Still, he wasn’t a thief so far as I knew, and when I tapped on the glass, the home screen came into view. No pin or nothing. Easy peasy.

I did a cursory glance through the phone, but it was either very new or it had already been partially wiped. No contacts, no email set up, no owner info. To be fair, it was in great shape other than a thin scratch on one corner of the screen. I was getting ready to do a factory reset when I saw a little icon in the app drawer I didn’t recognize. It was just a red eye, no name or anything. Frowning, I touched the eye. The screen went black and then a video began to play.

It was in a house, or what looked like a house at least, though it could have been a set or something, as the angle never changed much.

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