Highway Gas Station Job Rules You Must Never Break
Congratulations — you’ve been hired for the overnight shift at a lonely highway gas station. The job seems simple enough: keep the place clean, serve late-night travelers, and stay awake until sunrise. But not everything on this highway is what it seems.
Before your first shift begins, your manager leaves you a note taped to the counter — a list of strict rules that you must follow if you want to make it through the night.
You think it’s a joke at first. But as the hours pass, you realize these aren’t just random instructions — they’re warnings.
This is your new Highway Gas Station job, and your survival depends on obeying every single rule.
⛽ Rule No. 1 — The Customers with Cold Coins
At 11:45 PM, the first customer of your shift arrives. He looks normal enough — dusty clothes, tired eyes, maybe a trucker or traveler. But when he hands you a handful of coins colder than ice, the first rule flashes in your mind.
“If a customer comes in with coins that feel ice cold, don’t give them change. Drop the coins in the red box under the counter. Don’t look at their face.”
Your fingers tremble as you take the payment. The chill bites your skin, and the lights flicker. You slide the coins into the red box as instructed.
When you glance up — the customer is gone. The door never opened.
You’re starting to understand what kind of Highway Gas Station Job this really is.
⚡ Rule No. 2 — The Flickering Lights
At 1:00 AM sharp, the outside lights start flickering. You remember rule number two:
“When the lights flicker, do not go outside until they stop. If someone knocks on the glass during the flicker — ignore it.”
The fluorescent lights hum, flicker, and fade. Outside, something moves — a shadow that doesn’t have a shape.
Then, a slow, deliberate knock echoes through the glass. Once. Twice. Three times.
You force yourself to stay still. The lights flash again — and for a split second, you see a pale face pressed against the window. But when the flickering stops… the window is empty.
This rule probably saved your life.
🚻 Rule No. 3 — The Bathroom Mirror
Around 2:30 AM, the gas station is silent. You remember it’s time for your bathroom check. The tile floor echoes under your boots as you step inside.
The mirror above the sink is fogged over, even though the air is cold. Your instinct tells you to wipe it, but the note’s third rule says otherwise:
“Highway Gas Station Check the bathrooms every two hours. If the mirror is fogged, leave it. Do not wipe it — the figure you’ll see isn’t you.”
You lean closer. There’s movement behind the mist — something shifting, almost breathing.
You back away slowly, close the door, and lock it. For the rest of the night, you swear you hear faint tapping from inside.
Now you understand — this isn’t just a Highway Gas Station Job, it’s a night shift in another world.
🚘 Rule No. 4 — The Black Pickup at Pump 3
The next hour passes quietly until the sound of an engine rumbles outside. A black pickup truck rolls to a stop by Pump 3. The headlights stay on, but no one gets out.
The fourth rule is clear:
“If a black pickup parks by Pump 3 but no one gets out, keep your eyes on the clock. If the truck stays past 2:00 AM, shut off all the lights and hide behind the counter until you hear it drive away.”
You check the time — 1:52 AM.
The truck doesn’t move.
1:58… still there.
2:01… still running.
You kill the lights and crouch behind the counter, heart pounding.
Minutes crawl by. The engine revs once, twice, then drives off into the darkness.
When you finally stand up, the security camera feed flickers — every screen shows that same black truck idling… only this time, it’s in every camera at once.
📻 Rule No. 5 — The Radio Behind the Register
By 3:30 AM, you start feeling sleepy. The radio behind the counter suddenly turns on by itself, hissing static. You freeze.
“If the radio turns on and plays static, unplug it immediately. If you don’t, it will start speaking your name.”
You reach for the plug, but before you can pull it out, the static shifts — and you hear your name whispered through the static. Once. Twice.
You yank the cord from the socket. The noise stops instantly.
Your reflection in the dark window looks pale and tired. But for a brief second, your reflection smiles — and you don’t.
🌄 The End of the Shift
When the sun rises, your manager returns. He looks at you, eyes tired but knowing.
“Made it through your first night?” he asks.
You nod weakly. He chuckles and pats your shoulder.
“Good. Most people don’t.”
He hands you your next schedule. “See you tonight.”
As you step outside, the early morning light burns away the fog. The gas pumps hum quietly. Everything looks normal again.
But when you glance back through the glass door, you see your reflection still standing inside — smiling.
That’s when you realize… maybe you never left.