When I awoke, there were two notifications.

There was a review on my profile:

“Two stars. The package was damaged!!!”

The other was that my order had been successfully delivered.

My… order?

With a feeling of dread like my guts had been scraped out, I shambled automatically to my front door.
A paper bag.

I reached for it…

I already knew what would be inside.

The tears already started to fall.

I opened it. I dropped it.

I ran inside, buried my face into my pillow and bawled.

My father’s face had been on that medallion. I don’t know what was in the bundle. I didn’t want to know.

I stayed in my bed shivering, completely empty, crying endlessly.

My phone vibrated incessantly.

I didn’t care what happened anymore. They would come kill me too… I knew it. I would end up chopped up and gutted and mutilated and torn apart, neatly parked into a bunch of those little bags.
My phone kept vibrating.

I was utterly empty… except… slowly… little by little…

There was a tiny, just a tiny minuscule feeling that started to simmer inside of me.

A cold, frigid thirst for retribution.

But I had to strike when they didn’t expect. First, I would pretend…

I got up, the only thing moving me was that chill rage. The will to fight… that had come too late.
I went to bed early, took a double dose of sleeping pills, because otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep. I needed rest. I needed to think clearly. Coolly.

I delivered the orders that day like normal, none of them were late.

All of the lights were out at Nick’s house. The tarp was gone from the window, and…

I could just barely make out the hulking towering shape covered by the tarp. I could see its body heave as it breathed heavily, watching me through its veil.

There was something on its lap… Matt.

His body was completely limp, the shape held him like it would a crying child. He was dead, I’m sure of it, though I couldn’t make out any wounds.

I could only imagine that thing’s horrible face, pressed up against the tarp, its eyes drilling through the darkness to me.

I stared back at it. Dead where those eyes must have been underneath.
I put the package down, and slowly made my way back to my car.

I woke up early the next day.

I made a purchase with my blood money.

Shotgun.

Ammunition.

I think I shook off any pursuers, and I left my phone at my house. I think they were probably tracking me through my phone the entire time. Let’s hope they don’t know I’m packing heat.

Tonight, after I’m done my rounds like normal, I’m going to go inside Nick’s house.

Something tells me I’m going to die tonight.

When I got home last night, there was a new package for me. Just a tiny little bag. Inside… there was a tiny little medallion with my picture on it. I don’t know when they took it, or where they got it from.

Hopefully, I don’t end up in one of those bags, being delivered by someone else, for who the hell knows what reason.

I still can’t make heads or tails of any of this, only hell knows what is happening in this city, or maybe even beyond…

Flashes, vague memories are in the pit of my mind, coming back ever so slightly to me now that I’ve written everything down… I remember a bit of that night I blanked out, when the tarp fell from that thing…

Cuts, horrible disfigurement… it was bleeding, a lot. Around its waist, there were these bags, I think they were bags filled with blood.

I know we haven’t spoken in years [I’m cutting out my name here], I know maybe you’re a little mad at me… I know this all seems like a load of bullshit, but please… you need to believe me. Even if you don’t believe me, I ask that you just put this out there. By the time you get this, I’ll probably already be dead or have killed everyone in that house. Killed that thing. Or maybe I won’t even get that far.

Something tells me this won’t change anything. What about all those other damn houses and places I delivered to around the city?

Whoever they are, whatever they’re doing, I wonder how far their reach is. And why? I only have a vague idea, but even then it isn’t substantial. I still have no explanation for why they picked me other than to feed off my misery. And maybe that’s it.

I wonder how many people are in a situation just like me. How many of them ended up mutilated.

Butchered.

How many are being lured in, eased in, going in too deep, hurtling to a dead end…

So this is a warning, I suppose…

For you, and for anyone else who reads this.

Just… be careful what orders you take on those delivery apps.

If something seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Goodbye.
That was the end of Robert’s email. It seems utterly insane, I can’t believe something like that is going on. But… Robert was never one to bullshit, and… I tried contacting him again. I haven’t heard back from him.

There’s uh, something else too.

The truth is… before I got his email, I was using one of those apps on the side to make a bit of extra cash. The day before, in fact, I took an order with an 80$ tip. Now, that’s not the hundreds Robert was making, but still…

An order was delivered to my door tonight. I didn’t order anything.

It was a tiny, paper bag… I’m scared to open it.

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