Guardian of the Ghostly Gate

The lone streetlamp flickered erratically, casting distorted shadows across the deserted parking lot. Ten years had passed, yet the memory of that unsettling night remained vivid. It was a story recounted to me by a colleague, Sarah, her voice barely a whisper even after all this time. It spoke of the unnerving happenings at a local apartment complex, where a single security guard patrolled the perimeter.

One night, Sarah found herself returning late, well past midnight. The sole entrance gate, typically manned by the familiar figure of Ben, was firmly shut. She tapped the horn of her car, calling out, “Ben? Ben, it’s Sarah!”

The security booth, bathed in the soft glow of an interior light that flickered on for a few seconds, offered a clear view through its large window. In that fleeting glimpse, Sarah saw a figure slumped motionless in the chair. It could have been Ben, but she couldn’t be sure. As quickly as it came on, the light went out again, plunging the booth back into darkness.

Minutes stretched into an eternity as she waited. Finally, a figure emerged from the shadows – not from the booth, but from a nearby building across the parking lot. Relief washed over Sarah, quickly replaced by a creeping sense of dread. How could Ben have materialized from a different location? Had he sprinted that distance unseen in the darkness?

Ben, seemingly oblivious to her confusion, approached with a tired smile. He unlocked the gate and helped Sarah unload her groceries. “Late night, Sarah? Anything wrong?” he inquired.

Still shaken, Sarah stammered, “There was someone in the booth, a figure, before you came.”

He chuckled lightly. “Must have been the long shift playing tricks on you. Come on in, get some rest.”

Undeterred, Sarah pressed on. “Who’s on duty at the back gate?”

Ben’s smile faltered for a brief moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. “No one,” he said curtly. “We only have one guard per shift.”

But a chilling suspicion took root in Sarah’s mind. “Check the booth,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “Someone was definitely there.”

The guard nodded at Sarah, silently urging her to go and have a look while he went through the motions of shutting the gate down. Sarah cautiously approached the booth, her heart hammering in her chest. With a trembling hand, she reached for the handle and pushed the door open a crack. A sliver of light spilled out, illuminating the interior.

Relief flooded Sarah momentarily. But as the figure slowly turned its head, a wave of icy terror washed over her. The face staring back was pale and gaunt, eyes vacant and hollow. It wasn’t Ben. This wasn’t anyone she recognized.

A scream tore from Sarah’s throat, echoing through the silent night. But by the time Ben reached the booth again, the chair was empty. The light bathed the interior in a sterile glow, revealing nothing but a single crumpled jacket.