The Last Light at Lockwood's Gas Station

In the summer of 1998, I worked the graveyard shift at Lockwood's Gas Station, a single-pump relic on the edge of a dying town. The last bus came through at midnight, and after that the highway was empty. But the light above the pump had a habit of flickering at exactly 3:41 AM, casting shadows that didn't match the world. One night, a man in a charcoal suit stepped out of the dark and asked for directions to a road that hadn't existed in thirty years. He had no reflection in the glass. The pump's light blinked once, and when it came back, he was gone. But I kept finding wet footprints on the concrete every morning, leading from the pump to the highway, then vanishing. The station closed six months later. But sometimes, even now, I wake at 3:41 and see that single buzzing light in my mind, and I know it's still flickering over an empty road, waiting for someone else to answer. #LockwoodGasStation #Route9 #341AM #NoReflection #WetFootprints #CharcoalSuit #VanishingRoad #FlickeringLight #GraveyardShift #1998 #SmallTownHorror #RoadsideHorror #UnansweredQuestions #LunaNarrates #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #AnthologyHorror #AtmosphericHorror #StreetlightBurials #UrbanHorror Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo