You're a 16-year-old runaway. And being a runaway sucked. You ran from home about two years ago due to issues with your mom after she married some pathetic excuse of a human being. You just had to leave, you needed to go. Sure, your grades were good but the powers that be just breathed down your neck! It had to happen.

But you didn't feel sorry for yourself! You know that this path would be tough! But you didn't care! You're a boy and the path to manhood is not meant to be easy! You made the decision that would make you a man! Right?

You were now working in the sh*tty Gas Station at the edge of town as a part-timer. You've been working for this gas station for almost a year. You know that this Gas Station was well known for having weird things happen around it. You've seen some weird things as of late. From gnomes appearing everywhere to some guy with a trenchcoat who looks suspicious as all hell. It also didn't help that there was a small tar pit in the building covered by a decades-old wet floor sign, a wack job cult living in the woods not far away, and a group of mutated or inbred raccoons as well. But you got used to it. Ever since you lived with your mom's new "man" who replaced your actual dad, you weren't phased by anything this establishment would throw at you. Most likely in an average shift. You would most likely see Jack, the only full-time employee at the counter.

Jack seems to be a very quiet individual who doesn't speak. Or even socialize, only talking when someone comes to buy something or get their gas refilled. Besides that, he doesn't speak to anyone. Discussions with him are usually brief and mainly about work. You mainly remember one time you spoke to Jack.

It was the night shift. And you were sweeping the floors to keep the Gas Station clean. Something that seems off considering it's the awful Gas Station at the edge of town. But if it has to be clean. Then it has to be clean! Anyways after that, you walked towards Jack, wanting to talk to him. You leaned on the counter nonchalantly. Jack was reading a book as usual since the Internet and phone service is as alive as a corpse out here.

"Hey, Jack! Do you mind if I could tell you something that's been on my mind recently?" You asked, your face neutral.

Jack slowly bookmarked the book and put it down before looking right at you. Jack looks tired all the time and you thought he pulled out all-nighters a lot. Jack sighed.

"Sure thing, what is it?" He replied, his voice low and tired.

"Why can't I help people with Gas? I don't understand why the owners would not close like ever yet they won't let me do anything with Gas. Why is that?" You asked.

Jack simply chuckled. It was barely noticeable but you heard it.

"Well, you're a kid! You can't do everything adults do yet. That's also why you're rarely a clerk when I'm not around because minors can't sell cigarettes or alcohol!"

"But Jack! I wanna prove myself to them! Sure I may be a runaway but that doesn't mean I can't be the best worker this place has ever seen in its existence! Because I will prove myself to be a useful part-timer!"

Jack looks at you like Christian parents finding out their son likes men.

"But that still doesn't change anything! Don't get me wrong, I respect your enthusiasm for the job but you just have to wait a little bit. Now can you please get back to the job please?" Jack replied. He sounded a little bit rude but you didn't care. You always had this certain respect for him due to him not only being the only full-time employee. But also because he respected you for your "work first, everything second" attitude.

And that was one of the rare talks you had with Jack. Which perfectly summarized your general interactions with him. But recently, things were getting weird at the Gas Station last night.

It was late, you were organizing the chips. Rocco was making a mess as usual and stole at least one bag of off-brand Cheetos. You sighed and continued to resort to the chips when Carlos came in, seeming very stressed.

Carlos was a part-timer. His actual name was Tony or Antonio but you nicknamed him Carlos because it sounded cooler. He was one of the part-timers and worked as long as you have. He was in a parole program and was a former prisoner. You turned and looked at Carlos, your face concerned.

"Carlos! Are you okay?" You asked, very much worried for Carlos' well-being. "You look pale as Michael Jackson!"

Carlos turned to you, his face pale as a ghost. He made a forced smile, trying to calm you down.

"I'm fine kid, I just gotta talk to Jack alright? You just have to get back to work. Inventory is not going to do itself!" Carlos replied, his voice heavy and worried.

You are concerned. Carlos was the closest thing to a father or similar figure you had, and you didn't want anything bad to happen to him. But you nodded and went back to work. The sound of Carlos' footsteps at the front counter is heard in the background.

While you were done organizing the chips, you heard Carlos and Jack talking in the beer cooler. And it got your attention because Carlos said something surprising.

"Because Kieffer has been dead for two days. His body is in the trunk of my car right now." You heard Carlos say.

You were surprised. How is Kieffer dead? You thought. Kieffer is right here!

Kieffer was in the gas station as Carlos stated he murdered him. Kieffer was some politician you thought must have depression. He was wearing a suit way too fancy for going to a Gas Station.

You didn't trust Kieffer though. To be fair, you only trust two or three people nowadays but Kieffer seemed... off. Kieffer was a politician so maybe that's why you don't trust him as much as other people. Is that it? Your mind was scatterbrained by this point. You just might as well continue doing your work.

Well, that's what you would say in your mind if someone didn't just tap your shoulder. You suddenly got a wave of paranoia and terror as some person got your attention as you were just about to put the last bag of off-brand Doritos on the shelf.

What the hell? You thought. Who would bother me when I'm organizing the chips?!

Your mind begins racing a million miles per second as you ponder who in their right mind would get your attention.

Okay, I got an idea. You thought. Just turn and talk to them! It's probably another customer or something!

You then quickly turn to face the person who tapped your shoulder. You were sweating enough bullets to supply an army. But you didn't try to show your insecurities.

Well, the person you saw was unexpected. It was Spencer Middleton. An adult you had the bizarre luck to be familiar with. He was known as some guy the locals like to gossip about.

Rumors about him being a sociopath that hurt people and tortured animals. Tales about his strange family and messed up events he was involved in seemed to be his claim to fame. But you mainly know him because he assisted you many times when it came to evading the police and anyone else who dared to take away your freedom and bring you to your past. You noticed that Spencer had some sort of interest in you. It wasn't anything strange. He seemed fatherly when he spoke to you. He always acted differently when you were in his presence.

You still didn't trust Spencer though. He was a loose cannon for all you know. And you didn't want to get involved in small-town town gossip, especially if it's the 'runaway trusting sociopath' headline.

"Uhhh." You mumbled. The words slowly just spilled out.

"Hey, kid! Are you alright?" Spencer replied. He wore a coal-black suit and cranberry juice red tie. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"OH, I'm alright! It's just that you surprised me there when I was organizing the chips!" You replied, and the sweating stopped a little bit.

Spencer chuckled and replied "Oh sorry kid! I just wanted to talk to you! And to check on you as well!"

Spencer looked around and then smiled as he looked down at you again.

"It seems that you're doing pretty well for yourself!"

You simply chuckled back. "Yeah," you said, the sweating finally stopped (Thank God.) "I'm doing fine! What brings you to the Gas Station though?!"

Spencer shrugged. He seemed very nonchalant.

"Oh, it's just that I need some coffee! And this gas station has the best stuff for cheap!" Spencer said. His tone is more carefree in a way. "But it seems like the clerk is gone for some reason!"

You widen your eyes when Spencer just complimented the Gas Station like that. Who the hell would complement the Gas Station?! You thought. Okay, it seems that Jack is still talking to Carlos. Might as well take his duty until he got done.

"Oh, I can get you that coffee!" You offered, finally getting done organizing the chips while speaking to Spencer. "I don't have anything else to do that much so I can be the clerk!"

Spencer laughed. "Oh, I can wait for the clerk to get done! Thanks for the offer though kid! I appreciate it!" He replied. As he walked to the counter. He then just looked and gave you a wink before focusing his attention on the unattended cash register. Waiting for Jack to get back to his job. You simply nodded and got back to searching for gnomes.

Jack eventually came out. Spencer and Kieffer then ordered a lot of coffee before leaving.

It took a minute for you to get out of one of your regular trances. And then began to do the last thing of your usual duties.

More gnomes showed up as you just organized them along with the sodas that you were refilling. Nothing else seems to happen until two am.

It was the usual night at the gas station. Rarely any sound was playing in the cold background. You could only hear the rumbling of bushes in the woods not far away... customers rarely showed up and that smell of throw-up and ammonia flooded your nose in such a way that you would have to make up a term to even describe it.

You were finally done reorganizing the soft drinks. And was going to do the last thing before your shift was over in two hours. When a man with a huge ice cooler rolled up into the store. He had long fingers that had the bones showing and thin hair that was hidden by a bowler cap you thought came from the 20s. His palish skin creeped you out. And his depressing brown eyes and the milk aroma he had didn't help either. You made the fakest smile in your life as you waved at the man.

"Hello sir!", You said in the traditional professional employee voice. "How may I help you?"

The man turned his head to you and chuckled.

"Well kid," he replied, his voice is rough and reminded you of a cowboy going through a midlife crisis. "I have been making a new business. It's selling ground beef and meat at cheap and discounted prices. I wonder if this place has any older employees that I can speak to."

You nodded. "May I ask why you want to speak to the other worker here?" You asked, with an incredulous look. Wait. Why the hell would this Old man Jenkins-looking weirdo want to speak to Jack or Carlos? You thought. I'll be pissed if it's one of the cultists again!

The man simply replied "I want to have a business partner. And I think this establishment would be interested in it!" The man had some bizarre enthusiasm to his tone now. It made you not trust him more than earlier.

A world record! You thought. I officially hate this guy!

"Oh the only employee that's older than me is the clerk over there!" You said as you pointed to Jack, he was still at the cash register. "I think you can talk to him right now! There's no one else here!"

The man simply nodded and walked towards the counter. The conversation between Jack and the man was short. The man offered his fresh meat. And Jack replied that we don't do well with fresh food. And recommended that the man should try jerky instead. This perked up the man. This led to the man giving a "sample" pound of the meat wrapped in parchment paper to Jack. And that was about it.

You just stood there. For the rest of the shift read a book. Carlos was still stressing out like hell. And he didn't talk to you about it. He just talked to Jack. You felt like your stepfather found you and took your freedom away...

You sighed, leaning on one of the walls. Not trying to do anything out of place. Until you heard the all too familiar sound...

You turn your head to see that the cultist was out again. There's a cultist that visited the Gas Station. He was well-known for being an annoying guy. Always trying to convince Jack or other people to join his nut job cult. Jack nicknamed him 'Marlboro' because the guy bought cigarettes.

You then turned back to your book. Trying not to be harassed by the cultist who went into the establishment. But when you took a single glance out of your book. There was Marlboro, staring at you with a smile.

"Hey, kiddo!" Marlboro greets with a sing-song-like tone. "I want to tell you about a big opportunity I think you'll love!"

You blinked twice, your face being calm and collected. And you replied with an "I'm not interested sir,"

Marlboro chuckled and replied "Oh kid! You should join the mathmetists! Are you sure you're not interested? Just a tiny bit?"

You took a deep breath and then exhaled to the floor.

"No, I am not interested in your cult!" You stated blatantly, your face not changing in the slightest.

Marlboro scoffed. He hated it when you called it a cult. "Cult? No! We're not a cult! Kid... can you at least let me take a little bit of your time! You would be an idiot to not accept my reasons to join our religion! Please? Pretty please?"

You groaned a little bit. Before sighing.

"Sure thing sir. I'll let you explain your little community and why I should join them."

Marlboro's lip's widened into a wide smile. He then proceeded to explain his little cult ideology.

The mathmetists believe that mankind exists to do two things. To increase happiness and decrease suffering. They think that good people increase happiness. While the opposite increases suffering and vice versa. But here is when the crazy stuff begins. The mathmetists believe that mankind has been doing it all wrong!

For ever since humans existed, we've been trying to increase happiness instead of decreasing suffering. Why was this a problem you may ask? Well, Marlboro said that happiness is hard to sustain for a long period. Mainly due to people's different views of it as well as many other things. But suffering was eternal and will always exist in some form. And that's why the mathmetists were preparing to blow up the planet with a powerful bomb!

"Wait what the hell?" You blurted out. "You're in a genocidal cult!"

"Whoa, kid calm down!" Marlboro replied. "That's a strong word. We're more like a group who's killing for kindness Y'know?"

You're eyes narrowed. To think that this guy is defending a cult that wants global genocide! It was very messed up in your mind!

"How the hell is killing everyone on Earth a kindness?" You asked, with a slightly enraged tone.

"Kiddo, we would kill suffering because there will be no one that would suffer! Sure there would be no happiness as well... but at least suffering would be gone!" Marlboro replied.

You scoffed. "What's the point? You would still be causing suffering if you blew up the whole damn planet!"

Marlboro simply raised his hands like someone was aiming a gun at him. "But kiddo! The amount of suffering caused now and in the future. Would be equal or greater than the suffering by our bomb!"

You replied with "Marlboro... why would anyone think that this is a good idea!"

Marlboro groans like a little child. "Because suffering should be destroyed! And my name's Jerry! Not Marlboro!"

You nodded at Marlboro's response.

"Okay... but Jerry! What if suffering is a good thing in certain situations? Like recovering from drug addiction or something! Then that type of suffering wouldn't be that bad! Right?" You responded desperately.

The following was a surprisingly polite argument that lasted about a few minutes. Marlboro's points were a mix of reasonable and insane. But you made some solid counterpoints as well. After a while. You and Marlboro were tired from arguing.

"Agree to disagree?" You asked, a smile on your face. Marlboro was growing on you.

Marlboro held his chin with a facial expression that looked like he was contemplating.

"Sure thing kid!" Marlboro said, with a smile on his face. "Should I go speak to the clerk over there?"

You didn't notice that Marlboro was pointing to Jack reading a book.

"Knock yourself out, man!" You replied. Doing a handgun hand gesture. "It would be cool to see man!"

You and Marlboro chuckled for a little bit.

He then walked towards Jack. And well, you have the rest of the shift to yourself! And you made a new friend! Life was good for once. You went into the storage closet to check some things. Followed by just pulling out a book and starting reading. Nobody bothered you for hours until Carlos got your attention.

"Hey, kid!" He said he was trying to hide his stress about the Kieffer situation. But you know he's not having a good time. "Can you be at the register? I and Jack have to do something outside. And I don't want anyone robbing the place."

You nodded.

"Yeah, I'll do that!" You said, "Is it something to do with Kieffer?"

Carlos' jaw drops. "Wait...kid. How did you know that?"

You nervously chuckled. "Just a random guess of course!"

Carlos narrowed his eyes. "Honestly kid. I knew you would find out anyway. But I never thought you would eavesdrop!" He joked.

"Hey! I didn't 'ease drop', I heard you in the beer cooler!" You replied. You smile to make him feel better.

Carlos widens his eyes and replies "Okay! That's still a bit weird though!"

"Yeah," you replied. "I'm not much of an eavesdropping person!"

"Sure!" Carlos said between chuckles. "Well, I have to go! See you later!

You smiled. "Well, goodbye Carlos! See you tomorrow!"

You waved at Carlos as he and Jack left to deal with what you assumed was Spencer. You then noticed something.

Wait... how long did I work?!

You widen your eyes. You've been working for a day! As well as a few hours! You blinked a couple of times. Well, you thought. I'll just wait for Jack to show up! Then I will leave!

Not long after. Jack came, you checked out, and then went to your place! That was last night. But the madness was soon to come...