Thank you for reading and sharing my daily #Storygram short stories! Vote in the sidebar (at the bottom on mobile devices) for which story you want to become next month’s short film! Be sure to subscribe to the newsletter and check out my film Portfolio!
The Story:
“BAY 3. SPEAK TO NO ONE.” That’s all they would ever tell me about the nameless building at 97 Bracker Lane. I was supposed to keep my mouth shut and drop off my payload. Arguing wouldn’t get me anywhere but the job market, so I always did what I was told.
On a warm Fall day, I backed my truck up to Bay 3 and sat in my seat. I was used to some wordless person being there to sign my papers, but no one ever came.
When I realized no one was coming, I got out of the cab and walked to the back. No one was in the bay.
“Hello?”
At first there was no sound, until I heard a faint rumble coming from the door in the back. The noise grew so loud that it was beginning to sound like a stampede. I backed up against the back of my truck, just as a group of men and women burst through the door.
They charged me, sneering and yelling. They crossed the bay room, before I even had time to react, and stopped around me.
“So, you’re him, huh?”
“I’m him?”
“The driver.”
He raised a gun to my forehead, preparing to pull the trigger.
“Wait! Wait! I’m just a driver! Please! I don’t even know what I’m carrying!”
He relaxed the tension on the trigger and let the gun fall to his side.
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
He grabbed me by the back collar of my shirt and threw open the latch to my payload door. Another man raised the door, and I saw the payload I had been delivering once a week for eight years.
“Are those…”
“Cryogenic chambers? Yeah, they are. Each containing someone who thought they were going to wake up in the distant future.”
“I had no idea.”
“I can see that. They made the basement of this building look futuristic and began running experiments on us, like lab rats. Some are still trapped down there.”
Security troops arrived, and they all scattered.
I knew what I had to do—fix what I had done. That’s when I began smuggling people away from 97 Bracker Lane.
What do you all think of this story? If you want it to be included in the voting for the next short film, be sure to let me know in the comments below.