Cashiering isn't so bad [Creepypasta/Marble Hornets x Male reader]

Short introductions

The interactions he had with his future... roommates started small. Literally. The little girl standing in front of M/n's counter could barely see above the glass top, standing on her tippy toes to watch him closely as he bagged her items. He felt as if he was being silently scrutinized, nothing said between the two so far but the look in her eyes if he handled her chips too harshly hinted that she wasn't one to be trifled with. With bare feet and a plastic bag filled with junk foods in her hands she padded back into the forest not to be seen again for another two weeks.

Every two weeks turned into one until twice a week the frazzled looking brunette would waltz into his store at eleven-pm on the dot, tracking blood, dirt, and grass M/n would inevitably have to clean up later. She was a sight to behold, but after seven years on the job she wasn't exactly anything unordinary. Despite the dried blood that caked the right side of her face, the unnatural dead color of her skin, and her milked over eyes she would never come close to the worst he's seen.

"Thally'." She spoke finally, months after their initial interaction, her voice just above a whisper. He tempered the chill that ran down his spine and could only manage a cocked brow, as she stiffly looked up at him and repeated herself. "My name is Thally'." Her lisp ever present.

   "Oh uh... M/n." He smiled softly, it was supposed to be polite but it came off as nervous. Nodding awkwardly as he handed her her bag of goodies. His hands brushed against hers and he shuddered as they felt as if they should've been frozen solid.

   She happily reciprocated his grin, sending him a toothy smile regardless of her few missing teeth. "Here, my both' told me to start giving you thith'." She thrusted her hand towards him, two rolled up twenty's peeking from her tightly squeezed fist. He reeled back a bit from leaning over the counter before plucking the cash from her hands.

   "A forty dollar tip?" He asked, ignoring the whole eight year old under employment thing.

   "Yeah!"

   With a shrug he tucked it into his back pocket. "Thanks."

   "No problem! He thaid' whatever poor thucker' working here detherves the help."

   "That's...true. Mean, but true." He chuckled.

   "That's hith whole principle, anywath, I'll thee you tomorrow M/n!" She waved goodbye as she waddled off. Tomorrow? She wasn't due to come back for a few more days.

But just as she said, illuminated by the street lights, he watched her slink out of the tree line across the paved road the very next day. From then on their interactions became something they both looked forward to daily. M/n was happy to have something to talk to other than the small "security" cameras hidden around his store which he'd regularly complain to, and Sally seemed just as starved for a normal conversation. M/n quickly became Sal's best friend and the feeling was rather mutual, although M/n did note that considering an eight year old dead girl a close friend probably put him on a few watchlists. Dead or not he enjoyed her company, it took him years but finally he managed to find a way to make his night shift somewhat enjoyable.

"You have a phone, right?" She had asked one day, kicking her legs as she seated herself on his counter to watch M/n restock the small store.

"Yeah, why?"

"One of my friendth, she walks me here thometimes, she thinkth you're really cute."

The hand he had holding a bag of chips dropped to his waist as he turned to look at Sal with scrunched brows. "There's more of you?"

"Not the point."

He rolled his eyes, putting the chips away and pulling another bag from the cardboard box carried under his arm. "I'm gay."