This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/adorabletapeworm on 2024-11-26 18:56:48+00:00.

Preview case

So, how was your week? Hopefully less eventful than mine.

We urgently need to discuss the dangers presented by crossroads, especially with the temperatures dropping.

(If you’re not familiar with what Orion Pest Control’s services are, it may help to start here.)

To begin, I want to clarify that when I say ‘crossroads,’ I don’t mean any intersection that you come across. If that were the case, most urbanized or suburban areas would be saturated with these types of places. An infested crossroads can best be described as an in-between space. It’s not just one road cutting through, or even two. It is both roads at once, yet at the same time, the intersection can’t truly belong to either one of those that feed into it. Because of this quality, they attract all sorts of oddities.

They seem to occur mainly in rural areas, often places where blood has been spilled. During the day, these locations are generally safe, but they become more treacherous between sunset and sunrise, especially at midnight. This is thought to be due to the fact that those times I’ve just mentioned are also transitory periods: sunset and sunrise are between night and morning, and midnight is the change from one day into another. I hope that makes sense.

If this description seems confusing or vague, don’t worry. You’ll be able to feel these infested crossroads when you encounter them. And most of the time, as long as you keep driving and mind your own business, you won’t experience any trouble by simply passing through. More often than not, they’re just trying to get from point A to point B, same as you.

When I get into what happened to me on Friday, I will describe that feeling so that yinz know what to look out for.

So, what kind of atypical organisms hang around this habitat? It tends to vary depending on region. For example, one of the pest control companies down in Georgia frequently has to deal with devils at their infested crossroads, mostly targeting musicians. Meanwhile, our crossroads appear to be a rest stop, of sorts. We don’t get too many that linger for more than a day or two. Most of the time, these things tend to mind their own business. As long as you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you.

That being said, some are more predisposed to aggression than others. Our most dangerous travelers tend to appear during winter. When it snows, you can see silhouettes. Sometimes they look humanoid, other times, the shapes are long and writhing. And if you’re unlucky enough to find yourself close to them, you can see faces outlined by the falling snowflakes.

For whatever reason, these Snow People only appear during when, you guessed it, snow is actively falling. The heavier the snowfall, the more prominent they become.

While driving, the Snow People can be extremely difficult to spot. They have been known to mess with cars in a variety of ways from relatively minor (but still dangerous) inconveniences such as generating thick sheets of ice near infested intersections, to more severe assaults.

I experienced the latter while driving back to the office during an early morning call last Friday. It was just past dawn, so the sun had only begun to ascend into the sky.

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, I slowed down as I approached the stop sign, mentally preparing myself for the worst as I reached what I knew was an infested crossroads.

Have you ever found yourself in a remote area, looking for more than just cars as you wait? Knowing that there is something else out there, even if you can’t see it? The air has an electric feel to it, as if there is a storm looming overhead. You become more alert as the hairs on the back of your neck start to rise. Shadows seem longer and darker, no matter what time of day, as you check the intersection once. Twice. Three times. But no matter where you look, there’s still nothing there. Or it’s just hiding.

That is what an infested crossroads feels like. It’s a sensation you can’t forget once you experience it.

My eyes darted around the intersection. Snowflakes lightly danced across the trucks’s hood. Out where I was, there weren’t any street lights to give me much visibility in the early morning light. The wheat fields swayed in the wind, illuminated only by the company truck’s headlights.

With how early it was, there weren’t any cars around. I watched the snow carefully, not seeing any shapes. There were no signs of danger that I could see, but that didn’t mean that I was safe.

Just as I started to accelerate, the company truck bounced violently enough to make the suspension squeak.

My breath caught when I glanced into the rearview mirror. The bed. Something had climbed into the bed.

I stepped on it while turning the wheel from side to side, hoping that my unwelcome passenger would lose its balance and tumble out. The truck’s tires screeched, skidding on a light patch of ice, but thankfully regaining traction. The frame rocked some more as whatever was back there held on, pulling itself towards the rear window. In the mirror, there was only a heavy shape outlined by the snowflakes whizzing past.

Once I got some speed, I slammed on the brakes, hearing the visitor falter and bump into the back of the cab. The tires complained again as I then put the gas pedal to the metal. Afterwards, there were a series of loud thumps leading away from the cab as the thing rolled out.

In the faint glow provided by the truck’s tail lights, I caught a glimpse of the Snow Person using what looked to be a hook-like appendage to catch onto what I would later learn was the truck’s rear axle. Swearing, I swerved, trying to wrench it loose. When the Snow Person roared, it sounded like it was trying its best to imitate a human scream, though with how flat and low the tone was, it missed the mark, causing goosebumps to appear on my arms.

There was an ear-splitting screech as metal bent. The truck had begun to wobble. I hit the brakes again, then threw it in reverse in the hopes of running my assailant over. The truck bounced violently as I backed up on top of the Snow Person, then again when I shifted back into drive.

As I made my daring escape, there was a sticky blue substance smeared all over the road. That’s one way to take care of a Snow Person, I suppose. However, I also noticed a problem as I navigated away from the intersection: something was grinding. I’m not a car person by any stretch of the imagination, but even I knew it was a bad sound for a truck to make.

And I was in the middle of nowhere.

I drove it as far away from the crossroads as the truck could manage, wanting to get as much distance on the Snow People as possible. Our poor company vehicle shuddered the entire time, steadily beginning to feel worse and worse with each passing meter. I was cursing up a storm and crossing my fingers, nervously checking the mirrors, on high alert for any more shapes in the snow. There weren’t any nearby, thankfully.

Eventually, I got too scared to try to push it any further. After I finally gave in and stopped, the first thing I did was lock the doors, then I called Victor to let him know what happened.

After saying that he’d be out as soon as he could, he voiced my thoughts perfectly: “Fucking Snow People…”

Yeah. We love them back at the office. They’re a pain in the ass. I’m so glad they’re only a seasonal issue.

Unlike other atypical beings that reside around these parts, we have yet to find a way to deal with Snow People in a way that doesn’t end in violence. As demonstrated, they attack without any provocation. They’ve been known to drag people from their cars, never to be seen again.

Allow me to reiterate: if yinz see shapes in the snow, get as far away as possible.

Other protective measures include salt (who could’ve seen that coming?) as well as anything else you could use to melt the snow outlining their bodies. Namely, fire has been effective for the larger, less humanoid Snow People.

As far as the truck dilemma went, my problems weren’t resolved yet. The next step was to find a towing company. Unfortunately, most of them didn’t open until later in the morning. But there was one 24 hour towing service that I knew of, and I really did not want to dial them up.

Warily, I glanced back towards the crossroads. While I couldn’t see anything, we saw how well that went for me last time. Before making the call, I anxiously double checked that my fake ID was still in my wallet, despite knowing I never left home without it. After the mechanic learned my father’s name with something as innocuous as a car title, the idea of some other slip up occurring has haunted me.

I really, really should go back to therapy. However, that takes time and money, and at the moment, I’m short on both.

When I called Dubnos Towing, it wasn’t Briar that answered, to my relief. It was a deep-voiced, monotone woman who sounded as if she was positively thrilled to be awake and working this early in the day.

After I explained the situation, I politely asked, “Is it possible to know the name of the driver picking me up beforehand?”

“Sure.” She answered flatly. “It’s Chuck.”

Recalling that Briar’s nickname was embroidered onto his work shirt, I started to relax until it occurred to me that there was no guarantee that ‘Chuck’ was human. Or the woman I spo…

Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1h0jmcf/orion_pest_control_beware_the_crossroads/