More stories from Greensdale Volunteer Fire Station

More stories from Greensdale Volunteer Fire Station

At 318 3rd Street in Greensdale, Pennsylvania you'll come across a old building that you may mistake for an abandoned garage, don't let your eyes decieve you because inside that dilapidated hornet's nest you may just find the finest people you will ever meet, assuming you come across the ones who are even alive, I don't judge you if you can't tell sometimes even I can't. You may not even know you are in Greensdale as it is a borough which is like a town only too small to be called one and a little too big to be a village. If you look at a garage as you pass through a town on your way to Scranton, ignore the thoughts that may come into your mind, do not rub your cheek, do not kill the passengers, and do not stop at the coffee shop Brewskis' Brewski Brew City, it's not haunted they just suck at spelling my name.

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I can't remember for sure what my first paranormal incident was at the station, I had a few small ones but my first big (ish) one occurred in my first week there when I met another junior firefighter named Chris hanging upside down off the stick (the big ass ladder on our truck). "Are you a junior here?" I asked him. "Kinda." He replied, I noticed his legs were shaking and he was about to slip off. "You need a hand?" I asked again. "Nope got all mine he-" he fell off the rig and onto the hard floor. I asked him "So are you advancing to probie soon or what?" He shook his head, "You new here?" I nodded. "Well I'm sure you've seen a few oddities then?" I nodded again, leaning in, "I think I saw a ghost in the bathroom." He laughed, "Okay so you're REALLY new then, what did you just sign up?" Shaking my head I replied, "9 days now." "Well, Matthew things aren't hunky dory here, you'll learn, how about I throw you in the deep end?" "How did you know my name?" He didn't answer he pulled a flat headed axe off the rig and dig it into his head. I ran to get an EMT and shouted for help, then I wondered why there was no blood or an entry wound. I turned to see him standing there, completely fine giving me a gesture that either meant 'see?' or 'Hey remember that time I said we would meet again but you thought we wouldn't yet here I am.' I went with the former though the latter would have been interesting. "How. The. Fuck?" I asked in utter disbelief. "I am a Cyberdyne systems model 101, living tissue over metal endoskeleton."

"Are you dead?"

"You ask a ton of questions."

"Can you answer them?"

"Everything except why people still think Wyoming is a real state."

"How are you alive?"

"I'm not."

"Are you're dead?"

"Ish" he said shaking his hand.

A fire call which ended up being a dud cut our conversation off, not like it was going anywhere.

Fast forwarding to the present now, my job as a junior firefighter is to maintain our rigs, throw ladders and get equipment on scenes, unofficially I also hold the totally not fake rank of 'Chief of Juniors.' to the dismay of Chris who cannot hold rank on account of his deadness. That job entails babysitting all of our future firemen and women, God help us all. I 'earned' this rank when I managed to catch a Community Service junior as she snagged a floodlight from our engine and made off with it. So to say we were short on equipment is an understatement, we don't always catch them.

It isn't unusual for us to bring our own stuff from home to make the firehouse more livable, after all it is where we, or at least I spend most of our time. One of those things was a projector which for about a week was able to deliver high quality video which we would watch movies (pretty much just Backdraft and Philly FD, a DVD we found which is identical to Chicago FD except for the setting and the whails of the damned you can hear faintly as it plays even if you mute it) until it began to stutter, we took it to a repair place that rhymes with pest lie in Scranton and they told us there was nothing inside except… according to Devin, the EMT who took the projector there, his eyes rolled back and his nose bled as he said, "The gate our Lord Lucifur shall crawl through to reap the souls of the damned." We threw it into a broom closet with the rest of our portals to hell and left it at that.

Submitted July 15, 2018 at 01:43PM by Sal4Sale

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