Paramount Autos: The 3 Security Guards

It was just past 10PM. The night shift had begun at Paramount Autos, the last of the employees filing out, their chatter fading into the distance. The building, sleek and modern, stood tall and silent against the dark sky. Its lights dimmed one by one—except for those left behind on duty.

Enter the night guards. Three of them. Always together. Always alert. Marcus, Dustin, and Mitchel.

Marcus was the leader, sharp-eyed and serious. Dustin was the cheerful one, always trying to lighten the mood. Mitchel was the realist, grounded and blunt.

The three patrolled the premises like clockwork, covering every corridor, every lot, every corner like muscle memory.

Marcus: “Anything skeptical over there, bub?” Dustin: “Negative, sir.” Mitchel: “Nothing here, either.” Marcus: “Good. Anything else we left unchecked?” Mitchel: “Uhh… I think—” Dustin: “The underground parking lot, sir.” Mitchel: “I was about to say that!” Marcus: “Very well. But first—we lock the main door.” Mitchel: “Say no more.”

Mitch fished the key ring from his pocket and tossed it with a casual flick. A caught it with practiced ease, locking the large double doors with a solid click.

---

The trio descended the side stairs into the underground parking lot. The air was cooler there, with faint echoes bouncing between the concrete pillars. Only a few cars remained, likely from late staff.

But something was off—the lighting.

The lighting? Dimmer than usual.

Mitchel: "That’s odd... Has this place always been this dim?" Dustin: “Of course it has! We’ve been working here since Day One, remember? This place is always a little moody at night. Look around—it’s all the same.” Mitchel: “Well, yeah, but—” Marcus: “But your eyes are probably foggy from all that time you spend jacking off to your porn stash.” Dustin: “Oh right! I remember C was watching some hardcore vids off duty!” Mitch spun around with a flushed face. Mitchel: "W-what?! How do you even—ugh! So what? What’s wrong with the porn I watch? Are we judging preferences now?” Marcus shrugged, grinning. Marcus: "Not judging. Just saying. But hey—‘Amateur Hunk Pounds Horny, Submissive Twink’? That’s a classic. You’ve got taste.” Dustin: “Mmm-hmm, I agree! Trevor Sullivan is the best pornstar. That body? That face? That cock? Phew. Peak top-tier, best top in the game. I remember watching him spit-roasting a twink with some fellow stud—” Mitchel: “Okay, okay! That’s enough rambling, you filthy horny dogs.”

Mitch smirked despite himself, the embarrassment fading into laughter. Dustin and Mark chuckled too. It was clear—this was their rhythm. These three were closer than coworkers. They were brothers in arms.

---

Deeper into the parking lot, a flicker—then darkness.

Dustin: “My! Looks like the power’s out.” Marcus: “Yup. It sure is.” Mitchel: “Heh, doesn’t matter. We’ll be out soon enough. What’s wrong with a little dark? Scared there might be a ghost?”

Mitch strode ahead, flashlight slicing through the gloom.

Then—bam.

A face.

Not a ghost. But a man. Standing still at the edge of the shadows. The light caught his features just right to spook Mitch.

Mitchel: “GHOST!”

Mitch dropped like a sack of potatoes, flashlight clattering on the floor as its beam struck a figure’s face. Mark and Dustin rushed over, boots slapping the ground.

They found Mitch pointing dramatically, wide-eyed, at a man standing silently by a pillar.

Marcus: “Really? A ghost? You still believe in those?” Dustin: “Yeah, Mitch. Look. It’s just a guy.” Mitchel: “Oh, shut up.”

Mitch dusted himself off, grumbling.

Dustin: “Hmm… but what’s a guy like him doing in the parking lot this late?”

Dustin stepped around the figure, squinting curiously.

Mitchel: “Yeah… unless he’s plotting something evil.”

Mitch circled, flashlight illuminating the stranger’s features. The man didn’t flinch. He just stood there.

Marcus: “Alright, that’s enough, you two. You’re taunting him.”

Dustin and Mitch stepped back, still chuckling under their breath.

Mark approached the stranger, more composed, more cautious.

Marcus: “…What’s your name, sir? Do you work here?”