Lot 238

Please note: this story was provided by the author and published as is.

I used to work at a university.  

No, I wasn’t a brilliant, beloved professor on track for tenure. I was a lowly staff worker, running small programs and events for graduate students. Now, before you get the wrong idea, you should know I loved my job. Well, liked it, anyway. The pay was steady, my supervisor was supportive. I had fantastic benefits and got pretty much every holiday paid off (even National Arbor Day).   

The only problem was the parking.  

Even though I was a full-time employee, the university made its staff pay for parking. I thought that was a shitty thing to do, but hey, I wasn’t the one making the rules.  

So naturally, my stubborn ass wanted a way out of paying $7 a day for parking. A workaround, if you will. And I found one.  

It was called Lot 238. 

About 1.5 miles away from my office was a big, empty parking garage left over from an old veterans hospital. Stretching six stories high, the concrete lot remained the only military building within miles of its vicinity still standing. The rest of the grounds, including the abandoned army barracks, were knocked down years ago.  

Even though Lot 238 remained intact, no one ever parked there. There were far too many urban legends surrounding the place: paranormal patients that had psychotic breakdowns, neighborhood pets sacrificed for pagan slaughter, suicidal soldiers hell-bent on haunting, you know, that sort of thing. And of course my mother would remind me often (every family dinner, to be in fact) that she didn’t like me walking alone to the parking garage at night.  

But I took martial arts as a kid, always carried pepper spray with me, and digested a heavy amount of true crime content. So, I figured I was fine and that Lot 238 was nothing to be afraid of. 

It wasn’t long before I realized how wrong I was.  

One night last November, I left work extra late. I was finishing up a proposal for new programming when I looked up from my desk and noticed everyone had already left. So I picked up my purse and gathered the essentials: phone, keys, pepper spray of course, and my favorite shade of red lipstick (don’t judge, we all want to feel pretty in our own skin). 

Then, I began the long trek to my car.  

I remember the moon hung high and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky that night. Or any sounds, for that matter. It was as if a blanket of sleep had smothered all of campus and everything around it. There were no cars and no other walkers. Just me and the crunch of my shoes against gravel as I traveled further and further away from campus.  

And then Lot 238, the motionless monstrosity that it was, came into view. Like a hunched shadow carved against the backdrop of night, it sat atop the hillside, still and silent as death.  

I stopped and stared at it, but only for a second, because then a strong gust of winter wind blew by. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself and picked up the pace. In no time, I was standing just outside the first floor of the parking garage. 

I turned on my phone light and peered inside. There were rows and rows of rectangular columns expanding far back into the black. Candy wrappers and broken bottles littered the floor, and, not one single car was in sight. Besides slits of moonlight streaming in from cracks in the ceiling, the first floor was completely dark.   

I could hear the echo of my footsteps as I entered the mouth of the garage, heading straight for the staircase on the right. I usually parked on the top floor, so people from the street couldn’t see my car. But when I reached the staircase, I stopped.  

The thought of climbing five flights of stairs was almost enough to kill me. I had worked about twelve hours that day and was beyond exhausted.  

So for shits and giggles, I did something I had never done before. I walked over to the elevator and pressed the up button.  

And never, not for one second, did I think that the elevator door would open. Lot 238 had been decrepit and desolate for decades. Of course the elevator wouldn’t work. I had just started to turn away when, to my surprise, the loud, grating of rusted metal broke the silence.  

I turned to face the elevator.

And its doors were wide open in wait.

A small part of me knew it wasn’t right. A small part of me knew I should turn around and run, right there, right then. But my back ached. My feet throbbed. And my stomach grumbled.  

I just wanted to go home.

So in spite of everything my lizard brain was screaming, I watched myself walk forward into the elevator.

And with a slow, sharp scrape, the doors shut behind me.   

*** 

Once I was inside the elevator, none of the buttons worked.

I pressed the up button two, three, ten times, but still, nothing happened. I began pounding on the doors, then trying to pry them open until my fingers stung.

After about fifteen minutes I wanted to call for help, but as soon as I pulled out my phone I saw that I had no signal, no service.

Frustrated, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and sank to the floor.  

Then, the elevator began to move.  

And it wasn’t going up. It was going down.

For a brief moment, I sat there on the floor of the elevator completely dumbstruck. Was it really moving? And if it was, why was it going down? I was already on the lowest floor and knew for a fact there wasn’t another level below me. 

But there I was, dropping lower and lower beneath the surface.

I rose to my feet and gripped the side wall, steadying myself, as the elevator continued its descent.

Finally, after what felt like ages, the elevator screeched to a stop. A second went by. Then another.

Then, the elevator doors opened.

And everything on the other side of those doors was pitch black.

I began to feel uneasy, staring out into that absolute darkness. I remember feeling the great big void of space expanding far in front of me, and I knew that anything could be out there, listening to me. Watching me.

I didn’t like it, so I immediately tried pressing the close door button. When that didn’t work, I started pressing all of the floor buttons, the emergency button, any and every button that was there on the panel.

But still, nothing worked, and those elevator doors remained wide open.

I was breathing heavily and trying not to panic when suddenly a bright, LED beam shined down a few feet away. As soon as it buzzed to life, its light illuminated the space right in front of the elevator door. Then, another beam right next to it shined on, then another, and another, until an entire line of LED beams lit up, row by row, one after another. I couldn’t tell if it was an illusion, but the line of LED beams stretched so far down, I couldn’t see where the last one ended.

And in that moment, right before I realized where I was, I wasn’t sure if I liked the dark or the light better.

Because before me was an underground level of the parking garage that seemed to expand so far and so wide, I couldn’t tell where it began or ended. There was no curve of the road to signify a higher level, no ramp to show which way led out. There was only that bottom floor, filled with hundreds and hundreds of rectangular cement columns.  

Columns that were endless. Columns that were unlimited.

Created by: Danny Ingrassia

But then, there it was, shining in big, neon red, capital letters: EXIT. And right beneath it was a grey door. 

The staircase. I forgot about the staircase!

Suddenly, climbing up dozens of flights of stairs seemed like a marvelous thing to do. I ran to the door and pushed it open, relief washing over me.

I was finally going to get out of there, I was going to have a good laugh with my mother about never parking here again, and I was going to sleep in tomorrow because I deserved—

But I never finished that thought, because as soon as I entered the stairwell, I knew something was really, really wrong.

The air around me dropped ten degrees, and there was this smell, this really, rancid smell that knocked the wind out of me. The smell was so bad I covered my nose and mouth. I was choking back a gag when the lights in the stairwell began to pulsate, flickering on and off.

And there I was, standing at the foot of the first flight of stairs, when I heard it: a weak, soft whimper.

I stopped moving, stayed absolutely quiet, and yes, there it was again. Someone was there, maybe just a few flights up. And I could tell from the noises they were making that they were hurting.

They were hurting badly.

Instinct struck and I began to sprint up the stairs, two at a time. As I climbed higher and higher, the smell got worse, and those shallow, soft whimpers grew louder and louder still.

When I reached the foot of the fifth floor, I stopped again.

I stopped, because I had just stepped in a puddle of—

Blood spattered and stained the stairwell walls in scattered streaks, looking like a demented Pollock painting. I was rooted to the ground, in shock, when suddenly a loud TEARING sound filled the air, and along with it, another whimper.

And that terrible, awful TEAR came from a few feet away. It came from just around the corner of the stairwell.

Looking back, I shouldn’t have taken another step. I should have quietly gone back down the stairs.

But I did look.

I looked, because I wanted to.

I looked, because I needed to.

So I gripped the stairwell rail tight and took one step up. Then another, then another, and when I got to the corner, I paused.

The whimpering sounds had stopped.

Then, I took a deep breath and faced the top of the fifth staircase.

***

When I first saw it, I waited for it to make sense, but, it never did.  

Laying at the top of the fifth landing was some kind of animal. A dog, I think. And it was definitely dead. It was lying on its side in a large pool of blood, its front paws and head hanging limp off the top step.

I say I think it was a dog, because most of its fur and skin had been torn off. All that was left was the pink of its flesh.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the dog, not until another loud TEARING sound pulled me out of my stupor. 

And there it was.  

To this day, I have no idea what was in the stairwell of Lot 238, but it was real. I swear to you, it was all too real.

Hunched over the dog was a slim, distorted figure that stood at least seven feet tall. Its back was turned to me, so I couldn’t see its face, but I noticed right away the lengthy creature had thin arms that hung well past its knees, and its hands elongated into massive, curled claws. And although I knew it wasn’t human, I also knew it wasn’t an animal. It couldn’t have been, not the way it was moving with absolute precision and complete silence. 

As the creature continued to dissect the dog, I noticed something else entirely: the creature’s skin looked like a quilt of colors. These different sized strips of pinks, whites, greys, and browns varied in texture; some of them looked like fur, while other pieces looked stretched and shiny. And although they covered most of the creature’s body, the quilt of colors was sagging and peeling in places, exposing patches of dark green flesh. 

I stood there, horrorstruck, as it dawned on me that the way the colors stuck together, they way they hung from the creature’s body in torn fragments, it was almost as if it was wearing pieces of, pieces of skin, strung together, torn from—

SPLASH.  

Without realizing it, I had taken a step back and stomped in a puddle of blood.  

The creature, who was completely engrossed with the dog, froze.  

Then, it turned towards me. 

*** 

It had no eyes, no mouth. No nose or ears of its own, only half of the dog’s snout sagged off the side of its face. Then, after a second, the dog’s skin slid off, slipping to the floor.

And there, where a face should have been, was nothing. Nothing but blank empty space.  

Space that was endless. Space that was unlimited.   

Even though the creature had no facial features, I knew it was still looking at me. Watching me. Listening to my heartbeat pound out of my chest.  

We stayed like that, staring at one another, until its neck twisted much further than it should have, and I heard the cracking of bones and popping of joints. It was standing, elongating, preparing to— 

The creature took one step down the staircase.  

I turned and ran for my life. 

I flew down the stairwell in blur, jumping down three to four steps at a time. I remember gripping the railing as I rounded each corner and propelled myself further down the landings. The creature made no sounds as it moved, but I knew it was close behind me.  

I somehow made it to the bottom of the staircase and busted through the grey door. Once I was back in the lower level of the parking garage, I stopped. Overwhelmed by the hundreds of cement columns expanding in both directions, I wasn’t sure which way to run. But then, in the distance on my left, I spotted a bright red X. 

And I thought to myself, just follow the breadcrumbs, kid.

Without waiting another second, I began to sprint to one of the cement columns I had marked earlier. Once I passed it, I saw the next marked column about 20 feet ahead of it, and the next one about 20 feet ahead of that.

The whole line of columns marked in red X’s burned so clear and bright before me, it was like a goddamn runway. And I knew, if I could just make it to the elevator, maybe this time it would—

Behind me the stairwell door crashed open, and I looked back only once. The creature turned its head in my direction. Then, it lowered itself and got down on all fours. 

A fresh wave of panic washed over me, and I sprinted faster towards the next marked column. I passed it in no time and went on to the next, then the next, then, out of nowhere, I could see it.

It was just a speck in the distance, but it was there, all the same.

The elevator. And even from far away, I could tell its doors were still open.

I pushed on even harder as the elevator grew in size and proximity. I was going to make it, just a little bit more— 

I was close, so close, when the creature slammed into me. 

I remember hitting the ground hard, seeing stars, and my head pounding. The rotten, foul smell hit me first, then, I felt the weight of the creature pinning me down. I struggled to break free until I heard a loud TEARING sound and screaming.

My screaming.

As my vision came back to me, I looked down at my right forearm and saw the creature peeling off a strip of my skin. I could feel the tear, the rip, and then, fresh air on my bare flesh. My arm felt like it was on fire, and on impulse I used my left arm to beat at the creature.

I must have swung a few times before I felt it there, still there, like a gift in my left hand: the pepper spray. I was still clutching the pepper spray. 

In one swift go, I twisted the actuator with my thumb and pressed down hard. I aimed for its face, but then remembered it didn’t have any eyes or mouth, so I started to spray everywhere.  

Immediately, I felt an intense burning sensation in my eyes, and without thinking, I dropped the pepper spray, swiping at my eyes. But, I also felt the weight of the creature pull off me.  

As I stumbled to my feet and blinked back tears, I watched the creature writhe on the floor and claw at its flesh. It began to shred its quilt of colors and strips of skin flung here and there.  

While the creature was still distracted, I sprinted inside the elevator. I don’t know why I thought that time would be any different, when none of the buttons worked before, but still I frantically hit the panel buttons hard, over and over again.  

And of course, nothing happened. So I started to beat at the buttons, then I tried yanking the doors closed, but still, they remained wide open.  

Then, I turned and saw that the creature wasn’t on the ground anymore. It was standing at full height and facing me.  

Pain was shooting up my right arm, but I was still pressing the elevator buttons when the creature started to walk towards me with slow, even steps.  

As it got closer, the bright LED beams from above began to shut off, one by one, until nothing but the light within the elevator remained. The creature continued forward as darkness trailed behind it like a cloaked shadow.  

It was only a few feet away then, and so I backed up to the corner of the elevator, then sank to the ground. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.  

My whole body was trembling, but I dug into my purse for something, anything, to defend myself. The pepper spray was gone, and whatever items I found I began to throw at the creature. I remember each one of them— my phone, the lipstick— just bounced right off of it.  

The last thing in my purse was my car keys, and I held onto those, sliding the largest key between my knuckles, ready to swing.  

And that was it. That was all I had left.  

Just then, the creature lowered itself on all fours, face to face with me. It reached forward, I closed my eyes and— 

It picked up the tube of lipstick.  

I remained still and watched the creature uncap it. Then, after a few seconds, it began to smear the lipstick all over its face. Suddenly, cracks in the flesh of its face ripped open, and then, a deep, dark mouth took shape, a mouth elongating disproportionately and splitting open to unveil rows and rows of teeth.  

Rows that were endless. Rows that were unlimited.  

The creature hissed as it sucked in its first breath. Then, it grinned at me with long, lengthy red lips that stretched too far up the sides of its face.   

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. And I was ready for the end. I pictured the dead dog on the stairwell, stripped of skin, and braced myself for the unimaginable.  

I braced myself for death.  

But it never happened.  

Because instead, the creature turned and, still clutching the lipstick, crawled back into the black void from which it came.  

Then, with a slow, sharp scrape, the elevator doors closed.  

And up I went.  

*** 

As soon as those elevator doors opened, I ran like the devil himself was chasing me. I ran and ran and never stopped, not until I found someone.  

I remember slamming into the woman at the gas station. She was angry at first, then she saw all the blood and called an ambulance. I passed out after that.  

When I woke up, the doctors and police wanted to know who hurt me. They wanted to know who had stunned me into silence and scraped off my skin.  

I tried telling them the truth. I tried telling them about the creature down in the lowest level of Lot 238.  

But they all just laughed at me.   

They laughed and laughed, every single one of them, except the sergeant who said, in a gentle tone, that I must have been mistaken, because Lot 238 was torn down decades ago, along with the rest of the old military grounds. 

I sat there speechless, not knowing what to think. But then, I looked down at my arm, at my bandaged, bloody skin, and knew it was real.  

And I swear to you, it was all too real.  

Even though I escaped Lot 238, I never really left. That November night stays with me, follows me, no matter where I go.  

I still hear the grating of elevator doors as I slide into bed each night. I still see hundreds and hundreds of marked columns, each one stained with a red X, as I pull the covers up tight. And, as the lights go out, I dream about running through a concrete jungle that’s as endless as it is unlimited. And I’m running away from that awful TEARING, and RIPPING, and STRIPPING of skin.  

I’m running away from—  

Think what you want. Call me crazy, or reckless, but regardless of Lot 238, if it’s still out there or not, promise me, dear reader, that you will take care of yourself.  

Promise me you won’t park in abandoned lots to save a few bucks, or put yourself in compromising situations.  

Choose safety and security, always.    

Because if not, you might just end up paying the ultimate price.