4 Creepy Grave Yard Shift Stories


I was working the night shift at my local Waldbaums back when it used to be open twenty four hours a day. There would normally be less than ten customers throughout my shift but I wouldn’t get to sit around and do nothing though.  Instead, they wanted me to work on stock when I wasn’t helping a customer. It was a bigger Waldbaums, so, often times, there may have been one other person in the building, whether it be someone working on stock were someone cleaning.  This night, I was the only one working.

I was working stock in the cereal aisle when I heard something fall over on the other side of the shelf and the next aisle over. I would always hear the door to the store sliding open since it was the loudest thing ever, so, it kind of caught me off guard that there might have been a customer in the building.  Of course, it wasn’t all that weird… not yet, anyway.

Not until I looked to my left and saw men standing by the edge of the aisle shooting me a blank stare. “Do you need something, sir?”, I asked him.

“No. Could could you just point me to the eggs?” He said, in an odd voice that sounded farther away than he was standing.  His voice also didn’t really match the movements of his mouth, almost like a vantriloquist.  So that was strange, for starters.  I immediately felt like I was stoned. 

Actually, as I stood there sort of looking at this guy and him looking at me, I noticed that this guy wasn’t all that normal looking.  His face looked weird.  Not exactly ugly, just unusual.  Like, his upper lip kind of came out too far almost like a Simpsons character.  He was smiling at me like he had just heard a really funny joke, or like I was supposed to recognize him.  His eyebrows were raised expectantly.  “Aisle 6”, I said, and quickly turned around and left that aisle.  I was a bit uncomfortable that I had to deal with ringing him up.

I hurried to finish the cereal aisle, and when I was done, I began to bring the U-boat cart to the back room. I was stopped halfway, when the same guy cut me off through the middle section of the aisle.

I want to note this guy was probably in his mid thirties and at the time I was only twenty-two, though I looked much younger.

The guy stopped me and started to make strange small talk.  He asked me my name, how old I was, if and where I went to school, and why I was doing the night shift.

Then his questions started to get weirder, when he asked me if I went to parties a lot and if I had a girlfriend.

I told him I didn’t.  I don’t know why I was answering these questions.  I didn’t really have to, I guess, but he had this strange stare and he just kept making eye contact and moving closer to me.  Then, suddenly, he asked me if I’ve ever had a boyfriend, while putting his hand on my shoulder.  I immediately started walking away with the cart, but he followed after me.

I told him I wasn’t into whatever he was thinking about I went faster and faster until I finally made its of that storage room. He didn’t follow me in there, although I wasn’t supposed to stay back there for extended periods of time, to avoid customer theft. I decided it would be best to just wait for him by the register so that he would ring his stuff up and leave.  But I waited there for at least twenty minutes he never came.

I decided he was gone and whether he stole the eggs or anything else, there wasn’t anything I could do now.

I had to go to the bathroom so I took a quick jog to the back of the store and into the employee bathroom.  Moments after sitting on the toilet, my heart dropped into my stomach, as I heard the bathroom door open.

I choked the urge to say something… something like, “You can’t be in here”, but I didn’t want to give away my position. I lifted my leg so that I wouldn’t be visible from under the stall and what happened next was simply horrifying. I sat there for the longest time looking at the floor not moving a muscle.

When I finally looked up. I could see an eye peering through the crack of the stall door.  I screamed. I knew I was trapped in there.  At the same time, I knew I had one shot at making a move.

I grabbed the box cutter from in my pocket and began sliding it through the crack of the door, forcing him to move his eye way. I took that chance to slam the stall door open in his face and high-tail it out of the bathroom and all the way out of the store.

I called my boss at least five times before he finally picked up and explained everything.  He told me to call the cops and so I did.  Of course, the man wasn’t in the store anymore by the time the cops showed up.  However, the police did find something that basically scarred me for life, and that was a shiv, which apparently is some kind of prison knife, and it was stuck into one of the chickens that were in the meat section.  There was also a page from the Bible that was torn out and tossed in one of the aisles.

I only did the night shift twice after that. And luckily didn’t see the man again.


I used to work the night shift at a gas station on the side of some highway in the country.  From the hours of twelve AM to six AM, the road was pretty dead.  I would have maybe one or two people coming to pay cash in a whole night.  Needless to say, it was a very boring and depressing job, especially doing the graveyard shift, but I had just finished college and I needed to pay off my loans.  The only reason I kept this job was because my boss threw me an extra five dollars an hour for doing the night shift.

On this one cold December night, I was doing my usual thing, reading the newspaper playing games on my phone and whatnot, when I noticed the headlights of a car pulling off the highway into the parking lot. It was a red pickup truck.  Somebody stepped out and shut the door.

I went back to reading the paper as a saw that he was standing by the gas pump. I assumed he wasn’t paying cash.

I looked up a few moments later and saw that he was still standing in the same position staring at the gas pump. I almost felt obligated to go out and help him, as he was obviously confused.

I felt a cold chill run up my spine as the six-foot-something tall man slowly turns his head to face me.

I couldn’t make out anything of his face but I knew he was staring at me.

I tried to pretend I didn’t notice by going back to reading the paper. Of course, I wasn’t really reading, because now and I was a bit shaken, although I wasn’t sure why.  It was just some guy out there.  StiIl, I just wanted him to pay debit or credit and leave.

I looked up and gasped as the man was now much closer to the front door of the building.  This would not look good so disturbing, if it weren’t for the fact that he wasn’t moving.  He was just standing still as before. Still looking in my direction.

I walked over to the door to get a closer look.  All I could see in his face was still blackness.  Why couldn’t I see his face?

I locked the door and flipped the open sign to closed down the door. I didn’t really care that this would possibly get me in trouble. I was not going to take a chance because, quite frankly, I was scared shitless by this person.

I walked back behind the counter and sat down on one of the containers on the floor just so I couldn’t see the man outside anymore.

I stayed in that position for a good five minutes, texting every friend I have to see who was awake. I was desperate to tell somebody about this.

When I finally got up to check that he was gone, I let out a full scream, as the man was now right outside the door.

I picked up the phone on the counter and called the police.  The operator was reluctant to send somebody over because of the way I described the situationm but I persuaded them. Behind the counter, balled up like a child, I began to hear heavy thumps at the door.  Not innocent knocks to catch my attention, but I mean thuds and thumps that were trying to break down the door.  Strangely, he seemed to wait a good 20 seconds between every time he’d kick the door. I could also hear some kind of whispered muttering, but I couldn’t make out any of the words.  Just when I thought for sure the glass was going to shatter, it stopped. I heard the sound of a car starting outside and then driving off slowly.

It took me a while to stand up, but finally I looked outside and he was gone.  I couldn’t believe how freaked out I was.

Seconds later, a patrol cop along with a state trooper pulled into the parking lot. I reported the red pickup truck and told them which direction I thought he went in.  I couldn’t describe his face because all I could see was blackness, which made me sound pretty crazy.  It wasn’t as if he was in the shadows, because the lights outside were bright.  I swear it was like this guy had no face.  That was the messed up part, and the cops looked at me like I was on drugs.

Of course there wasn’t much the police could do, as the man didn’t really do anything.  I left that job a few months later to get a job in the city.  No more gas station jobs late at night for me, ever again!


It was two years ago I was called in to do the night shift at ten pm to four am at Seven Eleven, since someone was sick. The store was located on a busy road in a rather quiet, rural area.

During the night shift, you could expect anywhere from ten to twenty people to come in to buy a beer or something else. This one particular night, there was this one guy who was in his mid twenties that came in and started making noises – like loud yelling noises. I assumed he had some kind of mental disability.  In fact, my brother has a mental disability, so I immediately felt sympathy for the guy.

He walked up to the counter without any items with his head facing me but his eyes were looking up at the ceiling. I felt uncomfortable.  I honestly didn’t know how to deal with it.  I tried speaking with him, but he only responded in loud noises.

I kept checking if he was with someone outside, but he was alone.  There weren’t any cars in the parking lot, so I assumed he walked.  He stood there for so long, looking up at the ceiling and make noises, that I tried to get him out by handing him a bag of chips and telling him he can go.

I tried finding some kind of number to call for someone to help him.  Out of nowhere, finally he turned around and walked out of the store.  I felt so horrible for the men but at the same time I felt a bit creeped out.

About an hour later the phone on the counter rang.  I picked up to hear the familiar yelling sound of the man from earlier.

It caught me off guard. I didn’t know what to think, other than this has to be some kind of prank.  I hung up on him and I was now becoming paranoid of my surroundings, constantly checking the outside through the windows.

Come four o’clock the person working after me came in, finally allowing for me to go home. It wasn’t my problem anymore.  I got home and threw all my stuff on the table ready to get to sleep…but my phone rang. Within a minute after entering the door, I felt a chill run down my spine.

Why would someone be calling at 4 A.M. I could only imagine it was bad news. I braced myself and picked up the phone…only to hear the man again. I felt sick to my stomach as I listened to the loud noises he made. I struggled to slam the phone to the receiver.  All night I felt like I was being watched, even with all the blinds closed and I could swear I heard strange noises coming from all over my house.  I refused to get any sleep until the sun came up.

Weeks passed and I had forgotten about the incident until one day when going into the basement for the first time in a while, I found that papers had been scattered all over the floor and when I went into the basement closet, I found writing on the walls. “7-11” had been written in sharpie on the wall along with the address to the 7-11 I worked at and my house address.  The most disturbing part was that I also found various kitchen knives along with a large pocket knife sitting in the closet. What started out as seemingly just an innocent person turning into something of a prank, ultimately turned into something much more horrifying.

He had been living down there for God knows how long, and I’m just grateful that for whatever reason he changed his mind and left because I haven’t seen or heard from him since.  All I can say is that man is dangerously ill.


I’ve worked in the K-9 unit for nine years and I worked my fair share of graveyard shifts. I’ve definitely come across weird things at night but I’ll never forget this one night. I worked with my dog Sammy – a German Shepherd.  She was two years old at the time and was still kind of new to the job, just like me. I was driving down a road surrounded by crops, when I spotted a suspicious looking white van parked inside the crops.  Both doors were open. I flashed my lights to try and draw out whoever was there.

Nobody came out, so I parked and skin the place out quickly. Nobody was in sight, so I took Sammy with me to track down the driver of the van.

Sammy started going crazy when we reached the trunk of the van. She was pulling so hard, she almost broke off the leash.

I opened the trunk to the van, and the blast of foul air hit me in the face. I almost passed out from a mix of the horrible smell and the pure shock of what I saw in the trunk.

I counted seven full body bags each with a pair of feet sticking out at the bottom. I requested immediate backup with my radio. I heard the sound of a twig snapping nearby and Sammy just lost it. I lost grip of the leash and she took off into the crops. I pulled out my gun and followed the sounds of her barking, as each and every crop, I felt as if something would reach out and grab me.

I stopped when I couldn’t hear her barking anymore. But as I stopped, the sounds of movement did not.  I realized I heard movement in all directions.

I had never experienced such fear in my life.  I stood still as the movement around me stopped.  And then, out of nowhere, I felt to arms wrapped around my throat.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t fight. I was going to die.

And then I heard the sound of barking, followed by the scream of the man choking me, as Sammy bit down on his leg.  The next thing I did was something I still question if it was appropriate doing to this day.  I turned around and pulled the trigger, killing the man.

I grabbed Sammy by the leash and ran all the way back to the car. I could tell people were following us from behind.

I managed to make it to the car safely, and drive a quarter mile down the road. I didn’t stop to see which way they went. I didn’t hold my ground. I fled like a coward.

I cared much more about our lives than I did this job, and I’ll still say that today.  But it still pains me knowing how much of a coward I was.

Backup arrived shortly we but the van was gone. I even forgot to get the plate number on dash cam video, or even just writing it down.

This was within my first few months on the force but it made me feel like absolute shit for months to come.

I, someone who is sworn to protect others, allowed a van full of killers get away.

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