The Security Camera is a scary short story about two boys who encounter a terrifying ghost in a convenience store at night.
There were two teenage boys who had been best friends since they started school together. They both managed to get part-time jobs working the night shift at a local 24-hour convenience store. They started at midnight and finished at seven in the morning. It’s known as the graveyard shift.
Because the boys were working overnight, it soon became very boring. There were never very many customers and they mostly spent their time sitting behind the checkout counter, talking, watching movies or playing games on their iPads.
One night, they were sitting at the checkout counter as usual, eating sweets and chatting about nothing in particular. The monitor for the security cameras was behind the counter, but nothing ever happened, so they only checked it occasionally. The monitor’s screen was split into four, displaying footage from security cameras at the checkout counter, the food aisles, the magazine rack and the parking lot outside.
When one of the boys happened to glance at the monitor, he noticed that there was a woman standing in front of the magazine rack, with her back to the camera. She had long, flowing, black hair that reached down to her waist.
“That’s weird,” he said to himself. “I didn’t hear the door chime go off when she came in.”
He didn’t think too much about it and went back to watching his movie. But something was strange. Half an hour passed and when he glanced at the monitor again, the woman was still there. She didn’t show any signs of moving. He wondered if she was reading a magazine, but when he looked closely at the monitor, he saw that the woman’s hands were empty. She was just standing there, staring at the magazine rack.
“Hey,” he whispered to the other boy. “Do you think she’s trying to steal something?”
His friend also had the same thought and nodded in agreement. The woman’s behavior seemed somewhat strange so the teenagers came out from behind the counter to investigate.
One boy went down the left aisle and the other went down the right, but when they peeked around the shelves, they were surprised to see nobody there.
“Where did she go?” asked the first boy. “She would have had to pass by one of us.”
Just then, they heard the sound of the toilet flushing.
“What?” said the second boy. “How did she get to the bathroom?”
The boys went back to the checkout, but when they looked at the monitor, a chill went down their spines. The woman was standing at the magazine rack in exactly the same position as before.
“That was fast,” said the first boy, puzzled.
“Too fast,” said his friend.
Thinking there must be something wrong with the security camera, the boys went back to the magazine rack. Just as before, they found nobody there. Cold sweat was running down their backs. They both looked at eachother wide-eyed and frightened. Then, without a word, the boys returned to the counter.
This time, when they bent down and peered into the monitor, the security camera showed that there was nobody at the magazine rack.
“She’s gone,” said the first boy. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face his friend.
“Wait. Don’t move,” hissed the second boy urgently.
Both of them froze, staring into the monitor.
“What is it?” whispered the first boy.
The second boy’s voice was shaking. “Don’t look behind you,” he hissed.
The first boy was mystified. Reflected on the screen of the monitor, he could see his own face and his friend’s face. Suddenly, he noticed it. Right between their faces was the reflection of a third face. A deathly pale face. A woman’s face.
The boys were too scared to scream. They just stood there, staring at the monitor, trembling. A few minutes passed and the ghostly face faded away.
“I think she’s gone,” said the second boy, breathing a sigh of relief. Nervously, he looked over his shoulder and found no one there.
The first boy wiped the sweat from his brow. His heart was beating fast.
“I don’t think so,” he said.
Both boys stared at the monitor again. The woman was standing there at the magazine rack. Slowly, she turned around to face the camera and grined. Her mouth split open from ear to ear. She held up a bloody knife and ran it across her throat in a threatening gesture.
The two boys didn’t pause for a second. They immediately ran as fast as they could. Crashing through the front door, they spilled out into the street and didn’t look back. They only stopped running when they arrived home.
The next day, the two boys called the convenience store and quit their part-time jobs.
Today it’s no longer a 24-hour convenience store. It closes at midnight and reopens at seven in the morning.
There were two teenage boys who had been best friends since they started school together. They both managed to get part-time jobs working the night shift at a local 24-hour convenience store. They started at midnight and finished at seven in the morning. It’s known as the graveyard shift.
Because the boys were working overnight, it soon became very boring. There were never very many customers and they mostly spent their time sitting behind the checkout counter, talking, watching movies or playing games on their iPads.
One night, they were sitting at the checkout counter as usual, eating sweets and chatting about nothing in particular. The monitor for the security cameras was behind the counter, but nothing ever happened, so they only checked it occasionally. The monitor’s screen was split into four, displaying footage from security cameras at the checkout counter, the food aisles, the magazine rack and the parking lot outside.
When one of the boys happened to glance at the monitor, he noticed that there was a woman standing in front of the magazine rack, with her back to the camera. She had long, flowing, black hair that reached down to her waist.
“That’s weird,” he said to himself. “I didn’t hear the door chime go off when she came in.”
He didn’t think too much about it and went back to watching his movie. But something was strange. Half an hour passed and when he glanced at the monitor again, the woman was still there. She didn’t show any signs of moving. He wondered if she was reading a magazine, but when he looked closely at the monitor, he saw that the woman’s hands were empty. She was just standing there, staring at the magazine rack.
“Hey,” he whispered to the other boy. “Do you think she’s trying to steal something?”
His friend also had the same thought and nodded in agreement. The woman’s behavior seemed somewhat strange so the teenagers came out from behind the counter to investigate.
One boy went down the left aisle and the other went down the right, but when they peeked around the shelves, they were surprised to see nobody there.
“Where did she go?” asked the first boy. “She would have had to pass by one of us.”
Just then, they heard the sound of the toilet flushing.
“What?” said the second boy. “How did she get to the bathroom?”
The boys went back to the checkout, but when they looked at the monitor, a chill went down their spines. The woman was standing at the magazine rack in exactly the same position as before.
“That was fast,” said the first boy, puzzled.
“Too fast,” said his friend.
Thinking there must be something wrong with the security camera, the boys went back to the magazine rack. Just as before, they found nobody there. Cold sweat was running down their backs. They both looked at eachother wide-eyed and frightened. Then, without a word, the boys returned to the counter.
This time, when they bent down and peered into the monitor, the security camera showed that there was nobody at the magazine rack.
“She’s gone,” said the first boy. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face his friend.
“Wait. Don’t move,” hissed the second boy urgently.
Both of them froze, staring into the monitor.
“What is it?” whispered the first boy.
The second boy’s voice was shaking. “Don’t look behind you,” he hissed.
The first boy was mystified. Reflected on the screen of the monitor, he could see his own face and his friend’s face. Suddenly, he noticed it. Right between their faces was the reflection of a third face. A deathly pale face. A woman’s face.
The boys were too scared to scream. They just stood there, staring at the monitor, trembling. A few minutes passed and the ghostly face faded away.
“I think she’s gone,” said the second boy, breathing a sigh of relief. Nervously, he looked over his shoulder and found no one there.
The first boy wiped the sweat from his brow. His heart was beating fast.
“I don’t think so,” he said.
Both boys stared at the monitor again. The woman was standing there at the magazine rack. Slowly, she turned around to face the camera and grined. Her mouth split open from ear to ear. She held up a bloody knife and ran it across her throat in a threatening gesture.
The two boys didn’t pause for a second. They immediately ran as fast as they could. Crashing through the front door, they spilled out into the street and didn’t look back. They only stopped running when they arrived home.
The next day, the two boys called the convenience store and quit their part-time jobs.
Today it’s no longer a 24-hour convenience store. It closes at midnight and reopens at seven in the morning.
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