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𝕯𝖆𝖞 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞 𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖊: 𝕰𝖈𝖍𝖔

Summary:

Amity Park, despite its oddities and not counting Ghost Hunters, was a normal town job-wise.
There were policemen, firemen, plumbers, electricians, cashiers and so on.
So, of course, there were also trash men.
Carl was one among them.

Or: Carl's worst night-shift involves meeting an unexpected duo.

Notes:

𝕰𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖍𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙 2021_Day 29 [Trick]
~Original~
Category: Suspense, Thriller, Jumpscare(?).

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Amity Park, despite its oddities and not counting Ghost Hunters, was a normal town job-wise.
There were policemen, firemen, plumbers, electricians, cashiers and so on.

So, of course, there were also trash men.
Carl was one among them.

Before the Portal opened, his work had been normal, just some strange trash every now and then (above all around the Fentonworks), but after the fact, he started to hate the night shifts.

Of course, he didn’t notice immediately the changes, but strange “rats” skittered in the back alleys and after being attacked by one too many Octopusses, Carl was allowed to purchase and bring to work the Fenton Anti-creepstick and the Deflector. The both of them worked like a charm on any entity (be it ectoplasmic or biological) that tried to jump on him.
So yeah, it had become an occupational hazard.

However, all of this could be manageable. Sure, it made him keep his reflexes and senses sharp, but it wasn’t something he couldn’t deal with. If he couldn’t do it, who would take his place? Only few of his coworkers had kept the job (the ones with the nerves of steel), while others had resigned almost immediately. This occupation wasn’t for everyone in Amity Park.

But, back to his hate for the nightshift. Ghosts were more active in that period, but Phantom’s and the Fentons’ patrols kept the damages at minimum. However, that didn’t mean that there couldn’t be… encounters in the dark.

Carl was sweeping from the walkways the fallen orange leaves that under the streetlamps gleamed due to the damp clinging on them, making them sinister and slippery instead of charming as they were under the sunlight, when they were crisp and crunchy.

On the far side of the street, clicks and ticks started to echo in the shadows, but the man though nothing of them at first, they could be some cans or other objects rolling and tattering in the wind… But when rasping croaks cleaved the air, Carl jumped in fright, not expecting them.

The trash man looked around, but the noise was jumping on the walls, making it impossible to determine the exact origin anymore, what was happening, who was making this racket?!

Squeezing his broom, Carl ached for his Anti-creepstick, but he had left it on his van, deeming the Deflector sufficient while his hands were occupied by sweeping. Now he wasn’t sure anymore…!

KROKRAAAAKROOOAH!

Later Carl would had sworn that he hadn’t screamed like a newborn kitten convinced of being murdered instead of just being picked up, but a witness spoke up from the very same spot the cry had just sounded.

‒ Excuse me? ‒ The man whirled around in terror, but he came face to face with a little girl (barely a teenager) with an odd bird on her shoulder. Her expression was unperturbed, as if either his reaction or the noises echoing in the street hadn’t happened. ‒ Could you point me where I can find the nearest 24/7h? I was told it was in this area, but I’m a bit lost.

It took few seconds for Carl to keep a grip on his bowel, but he managed to gulp enough spit to wet his throat and answer. If you go in that direction, ‒ he pointed to his back with a trembling thumb, ‒ you should find it on your left at around 300 yards. The neon sign at the entrance is broken, so this is why you probably missed it.

The girl beamed, making the bird, a spectral bird with void black eyes among maroon plumage, ruffle its feathers. ‒ Thank you!

The avian ghost opened its beak and manifested his gratitude with that same horrifying echoing screech that had Carl nearly piss himself again, but the kid just ignored both the reaction and the sound and skipped, skipped!, in the pointed direction, as if it was normal for that a person that age to be around at this hour of the night in company with a ghost.

And Carl, who was still nearly hyperventilating, decided that he wasn’t going to question this.
This was Amity Park and this whole exchange was coming out either a nightmare or the fumes of the trash.

…Next night shift, the trash man would sport headphones and a mask in order to cover all the bases and not be surprised anymore.
(They didn’t pay him enough for this shit, he wanted a raise.)

Notes:

A/N. Dani is a little shit and she was cackling inside all the while, but allowed the poor man to keep a bit of his dignity.

This one-shot was a bit of a pain, because I researched a bit for animals that use echolocation to hunt (beside the bats that I already used) and came up with the Oilbird/Guàcharo:
it’s a bird indigenous of the northern part of South America and uses clicks and guttural crows to orientate themselves in the dark since it’s their most active period of the day.
Since it’s a tropical bird and its cries could be considered creepy, I thought it suited Dani’s travel and mischievous spirit to a T. However, this is not really what stumped me while I was writing this.

I think I’m going in a bit of writing burn-out, but thankfully I already almost finished tomorrow’s prompt, so I’ll take a bit of pause by going out for a cup of bubble tea, wish- eh, hope me good luck! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

Hope you liked this, type ya tomorrow!
Will Day 30 be Summoning or Crow?
Check in “Domestic Phantoms” and you’ll find out!