Drive-Thru : Scary Stories – Short Horror Story

Henry pulled into the Drive-Thru, and looked at the large, illuminated menu. He was tired and hungry, and this was the only place open at this time of night. After looking at all the professionally photographed shots of food, he decided what he wanted.

He looked at the speaker expectantly, and got nothing.

Henry looked around the parking lot. Perhaps he had made a mistake, and the place was closed after all.

There were a handful of cars, and the lights were on inside.

“Hello?” He said, feeling a little weird for speaking first.

Nothing but silence. There were no cars ahead of him, and nobody waiting behind him.

He continued to wait, getting anxious. If he didn’t get something from here, he would have to go home empty-handed. He didn’t have any food at the house. Just as he considered driving off, he heard something in the speaker. It sounded like someone slamming cabinets shut. Were they just ignoring him?

“Can I get some service or what? Come on, I’m fuckin’ hungry.” Henry said, his face feeling hot.

There was a rustling in the speaker, like someone was adjusting a headset. The voice that came through sounded like a young man, and he sounded amused with his anger.

So sorry about that wait sir. What can we get you today?” Said the voice on the other side, like they were trying to keep from laughing.

“You think this is a joke, kid? You know how long I’ve been sitting here?” Said Henry, hanging out his window.

“Sorry about that, sir. We had some complications in the kitchen. All straightened up now.” Said the young man.

Henry sighed and ordered his food.

“Will that be all?” Said the kid.


“Pull forward.”

“Wait, how much is the total?” Henry asked.

Nothing, just the same muffled noises as before, accompanied by the sound of the guy breathing into the mic.

Henry groaned and pulled around. Arriving at the window, he could see the young man with the headset, and nobody else. Henry felt a twinge of guilt; they were short-staffed all along.

The young man had his back turned at the bagging station, furiously shoving things into a paper sack. He hurried over, and threw open the window. A rancid smell wafted from inside, like something had been horribly burned. The employee wore a heavily stained shirt and a tired smile.

Henry went to offer his debit card, but the young man shoved the food toward him. The bag was soaked and dripping with grease, like a bunch of fresh fries had been dumped in.

“Alright man, shit.” He took the bag hesitantly, and when he tried to hand in the payment, the young man slammed the window shut, bolting back into the kitchen.

Confused, Henry turned on the cab light to check the order.

Behind the restaurant, he heard the back door shove open, and the scuff of sneakers on pavement.

The bag was filled with sizzling body parts.

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