Pest Control – Horriying errie scary story to tell in the dark.
This job is not for everyone.
Scary Story from Reddit: https://www.reddit.com/user/Colourblindness/
Heck I been here 8 years and I’m not even sure it’s for me.
It’s dirty. It’s nasty. You see things that you wish you hadn’t. And the only people that really understand, are people that have seen what you have too.
I don’t expect some kind of sympathy. I mean obviously I could get another job right? I don’t know why I don’t.
I probably will, after what happened with Chad.
Let me start at the beginning.
Chad was a trainee. Rookie from out of state that was learning the ropes from me like about a dozen other knuckleheads did before him.
I didn’t really pay much mind to any details about his personal life, or even what he looked like. Hate to say it, but technicians like Chad are a dime a dozen. They either make the cut and move on, or they are gone and I’ve moved on to training another lughead.
And by training I don’t mean the boring, sitting in a conference room watching orientation films all day sort. I mean the down and dirty, crawling under houses, spraying and surveying. I don’t hold anything back. They need to know that the job is not easy. It’s a lot of long drives, hot days and sore muscles.
The houses I took Chad to that week were all tough. That was the point. I wanted to break him. I remember I was taught that the only ones that make it in this business
Chad did pretty good for about four days. He didn’t complain. He even seemed to enjoy the work. I have to admit, I really thought the kid would make it.
But then we went to the Peterson’s.
Now; I want to make it clear that these are good people. They didn’t mean any harm in calling us to their property that day. But they have had a termite problem since probably 04 or 06 and that’s mostly because their house is about as old as Methuselah and they refuse to refurbish a lot of the older portions of the home. To say the least, it’s a technicians nightmare.
I knew a house like this would be exactly what Chad would need to see if he would last any longer.
So we started as usual surveying the house and determining where the problem areas were. The foundation was going to be the trickiest so I ordered Chad, “Grab yourself a water and then scurry under. I’ll be there in a minute.”
I talked to the head of the household, Frank Peterson; and explained what we were planning to do. “We are gonna move a long nozzle under the house and fumigate the foundation, all the older tiers first. Don’t forget to tie up the dogs this time.”
I knew of course where the main problem was. Our chemicals usually only treat adult insects, leaving the larvae or eggs untouched. And as usual I advised Mister Peterson about the advantages of paying for a full service treatment but he didn’t seem interested. It’s been the same song and dance for years. But hey at least he still pays his bills so I’m not complaining.
Once I made sure that he was compliant with my requests, I joined Chad in the crawlspace under the house. I had a flashlight in one hand and a long hose in the other. It was directly connected to our truck and designed to pump the chemicals we use straight into the structure of the house.
As I squeezed my way toward where he was laying, I used the light to shine on the first problem area, a long central beam that ran along the southeast side of the floorboard.
As soon as I did, Chad and I could easily see thousands of the little termites swarming about within the wood; eagerly feasting on it and expanding their colony without a care in the world.
“Jesus. You know I seen some bad infestations, but this is the worst,” I said grimly.
Chad swallowed a little air and muttered, “I used to buy these things for bait when I went down to the lake. Never again.”
“I bet you wish you were in the lake now huh?” I joked as I maneuvered the hose closer to the termite infestation.
Suddenly the bugs seemed to react to my presence, crawling away from the hose. “Huh… never seen that before,” I said and then encouraged Chad to give it a try.
What happened to him is something I won’t forget for the rest of my days.
He reached toward the beam, and grabbed the end of it with one hand as he hoisted the hose to the colony and pressed it straight into the horde of insects.
The termites crawled immediately onto his uniform and began to bite incessantly into the fabric. Chad was so surprised by their response that at first he didn’t react. Then the entire colony seemed to swarm over his body.
They fell onto his face, biting and crawling across his skin. Chad jumped excitedly and bumped his head against the beam, causing more insects to fall down onto his legs and chest.
I scooted closer to try and help fend off the attack as he frantically tried to crawl out of the cramped space.
I heard him begin to shout excitedly and I saw some of the termites manage to burrow their way into his mouth. That drove Chad over the edge. He got out of there so fast I didn’t even have time to react.
A few minutes later I followed suit and noted a few of the bugs were crawling on my uniform as well. I flicked them off with ease and saw Chad catching his breath over near the truck.
“Sorry boss. I just… I don’t know what that was. But those weren’t ordinary termites,” he told me.
“It’s fine. We can finish up the treatment later. We should get you to a doctor,” I advised.
I told Mister Peterson about the incident and warned him to keep small children away from any areas affected by the insects and then rushed Chad to the closest clinic. The whole time we traveled he was instinctively scratching at his skin. I couldn’t even imagine what it had to be like to swallow one of those things.
Half an hour later, the doctor thankfully gave him a clean bill of health and advised on taking a few allergy pills and antibiotics just in case there was any sort of parasite that was within the termites. I told him to take the rest of the day off and handled the remaining work solo.
That night, I tried to call and check on him; but didn’t get a response so I distracted myself with watching a little news. Here in Springdale we don’t get very many interesting stories, so just the dull sports and weather can easily make a person fall asleep.
That didn’t happen that night.
“This is an urgent news report coming from off the shores of Lake Daybreak, our correspondents have just heard word from local authorities that due to some sort of chemical spill in the area residents are being advised not to swim in the lake or go picnicking in the area. One such family was unlucky enough to do so last week and two of their children are now dead. We are about to go live to Saint Bella’s Infirmary but please be advised, the images may be shocking to some viewers.”
I immediately turned up the volume, intrigued.
“Julie and Brie Walker were just enjoying the summer lake breeze with their parents when the unthinkable happened. Something from amid the woods attacked them and ripped the flesh from their body, covering their tiny innocent bodies from head to toe with bites and stings.” It paused to show the two children in body bags. Their bodies were redder than a tomato, and their skin bulging and covered in bite marks.
“Authorities are still trying to determine the cause of this but have advised all residents to steer clear of the area until further notice.”
The marks reminded me of what was covering Chad’s body. It made it difficult to sleep that night. I kept imagining his body covered in bites.
And worst of all? When I did finally check on him the next morning I was witness to a living nightmare.
He didn’t answer any texts I sent so I chose to drive over to his apartment. When he didn’t answer the door I took a gut instinct and pushed the door down.
He was there, dead and festering with termites. His entire body had become a colony for the creatures. They were swarming and burrowing in and out of his corpse and biting on his rotting flesh the same way they would a piece of wood.
I don’t know why, but beyond the disgust and horror; I felt afraid. As if the insects were studying me, analyzing me as their next target.
I left and called the police to tell them what happened. And that is what brings me to the present. I want to push what happened to Chad out of my mind. But I don’t think I can. Mostly because Mister Peterson has repeatedly called me to come finish treating his house.
And because I can’t seem to stop scratching my arm.