Pizza Dwight

	Pizza Dwight

	Dwight had only three jobs his whole life, all of which were as menial as he was a failure.

His first was a simple pizza delivery, but even then he felt humiliated as he was significantly older than the teenagers who worked there part time. They made fun of the “old loser” who was, in reality, only five years their elder. He was required to tuck in his sloppy red shirt, something his peers laughed at for its tackiness. He just couldn’t be “Pizza Dwight” any longer. He quit as soon as he could, but even then their jeers tumbled around in his head at night for the next four weeks.

	His second job would become his career, despite his intentions to leave after a few months. His local computer store needed a clerk, and despite his nonexistent relationships with his coworkers, it paid enough for him to sustain his isolationist lifestyle. They talked about him behind his back, spreading rumors about his hobbies and passions, making fun of his mustache, saying he was a weird freak who might as well live inside his computer. They were right, but he didn’t care. They were barely even people to him at this point – just crudely colored props that hurt him sometimes.

	His third job he regretted taking most of all, as it would be the reason for his time in this hell. Due to the disappearance of his superior, the management position was open and he was their fourth choice. The others had said no because they planned to move on, just as Dwight had. He was opening his mouth to say as such when suddenly, memories of the cruelties forced upon him by these people he’s working with came flooding in, people who he had known their names since elementary school, people who shunned and poked fun and made his life hell, people who he wanted to punish. He grit his teeth in anger and accepted the manager’s position, intent on using it for some sort of justice against his now subordinates.

	That was when he was brought into the woods. It had been to “celebrate his promotion” with a camping trip. Though he was often called stupid, Dwight was no such thing and had assumed it was another vicious prank. He figured it may feel nice to pretend to have friends for a while, whatever the drawback may be, and agreed to drink himself silly that night not out of a sense of fun, but because he had signed his life away to a job he never wanted and needed a fucking drink.

	He nearly went mad his first night in the woods. Waking up with a hangover to the screech of crows was even worse than he expected from his “friends,” but he could feel the malignant presence of the mist. It wasn’t just the alcohol, something deep within him felt it. He needed to find a way out, but what he didn’t know was that he would be looking for one until every piece of him is gone. He was alone as he always was, but now he had something more to fear than humiliation. It was only a couple hours before he ran into another trapped soul.

	The wonderful truth for Dwight was that this curse came with a blessing as well. He had always felt a longing for human connection, but the real world had torn him apart. While he may be literally torn apart from time to time here, everyone was on his side. People no longer cared what he looked like or if he could hold a conversation. People wanted to work with him, they were just as scared and bullied as he used to be. He was forming bonds with people. Real emotional bonds!

	He hated this place just as much as the other poor souls, but damn did he love the people.