Dreams of a Sociopath

He had a funny feeling as he walked across the parking lot. The lot was neither newly paved nor run-down...just average. Everything was average regarding the gas station store the asphalt led to, as well.

It was a lingering feeling.

Despite it not being the 1980s...or 1960s...or whenever gas station attendants actually personally filled up your tank for you, it was part of his job.

Halfway through the fill-up, he was barked at mildly by the driver and its passenger - who, much to his surprise, appeared to be his aunt and uncle.

He turned his phone's screen back off just as he received a text in unison with the speaking out from his aunt. Strangely enough, the text happened to be from his cousin (the son of the aunt and uncle just in front of him) asking, "what's up?"

It wouldn't have been weird outside of the fact that he hadn't spoken to his cousin in probably four years - as was the case with his aunt and uncle. As well, his cousin was a few years younger than he was and he was accustomed to being the one to have to reach out to him in somewhat of an older brother mold.

He double-tapped the hood of the SUV as if to signal that he had finished and they were free to go. Without even speaking with his aunt and uncle, he began to walk away and his odd feelings persisted.

With his back now facing the vehicle, he sensed that they weren't leaving in spite of their conversation being over - although it really never went beyond the greeting from his aunt.

This was at pump 2. As he approached the entrance of the store, more vehicles pulled in to pumps 6, 8, 9, 10.

As the sight of all four vehicles entered his peripherals at once, it hit him a bit hard.

Each vehicle consisted of members of his family. For some reason, he could perceive that none of them needed his assistance getting gas so he continued to walk across the rest of the parking lot and in to the gas station which he owned.

He approached the counter-top and could see that a rugged individual had just stepped behind the counter - salivating at all of the goods kept in the cashier's receptacle; speaking out loud to himself like a kid at an electronics store.

"Oh man, they've got [this]" or "Damn, they've got that, too".

The gas station owner firmly stated, "Sir, you're not to be behind there". And without a warning, the man pulled out a gun in retaliation. The owner ducked below the counter-top, unsure of if the man would go as far as firing his weapon or if he would simply just wave it at him to be tough. Certainly not something he wanted to find out.

The owner's instincts kicked in. At this point, he was briefly facing the parking lot again and could see the vehicles of his family members.

It was like they were all frozen in time. Not that he had been close to any of them for a few years now, but it triggered in his head that he was alone - and, as usual, was on his own.

He could hear the arrogance of the active shooter as he felt him inching toward the very same counter top, a mere few feet away, and knew he had to think quickly.

The store owner turned the volume up all the way on his phone, put it on speakerphone, and dialed the first random phone number that came to his head- leaving his phone where he was as he quietly crouched away and made his way around the large, square counter top located at the center of the store.

The gunman, still confident, naively took his time approaching the phone - positive the owner would still be there in the midst of the ringing phone. About 12 seconds had passed.

In the ensuing 15 seconds or so, the owner had made his way to the entry point of the cashier's square and subdued the gunman with relative ease. What felt like a 30 minute ordeal, and in reality was a bang-bang 3 minute debacle, was effectively over.

Though a little bit angry given that his family was literally outside and yet did nothing to help him, the owner was relieved. He tucked the man's gun into the back of his pants after turning on the gun's safety.

Then, the peculiarities continued.

The former gunman began to change shapes. Previously a 5 ft. 8 in. slender African-American man, he became the owner's brother, and without a second thought he shot him directly in the face - killing him instantly.

His family members in the parking lot were un-frozen, apparently coming back to life at the sound of the gunshot - witnessing the owner, their close relative, murdering his brother.

His cousin, answering the phone still sitting on the floor, heard the gunshot, as well, and sat on the end of the line paralyzed - unsure of what had just happened.

Figure 3, the apparent owner of the gas station, then woke up from his dream, put a smile on his face, and went to work.

Photo Sources: Gas Station, Criminal, Owner, Killer