Part 1 (https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1776lep/be_careful_about_the_orders_you_deliver_on/)
There were a lot of cars parked outside the house, there never had been more than a truck before. They were all beat up pretty badly. I drove by the first time, shivered in my car another five minutes, the gruesome package still burned in my mind, before working up the courage to pull up, get out and go to the door. I kept telling myself it would be the last time.
The package felt extra heavy in my hands, it made me sick holding it, made me gag when I looked down at it. I could hear the severed fingertips shuffling inside as the bag shook in my trembling hands.
There were lights flashing upstairs, like a rave was happening, but it was deadly quiet, even though it looked like a lot of people might be there. My whole body was shaking when I made it to the door. I tossed the bag on the steps, instantly spun around and started to sprint, but stopped before I made more than three steps.
Someone had called my name…
They said it again, I jumped and slowly turned back…
The door was open halfway, the guy was poking his head out, it was Matt, he seemed surprisingly lucid compared to his usual demeanor, “Nick is mad at you man…” he shook his head sadly, “He’s uh… really upset man…”
I tried to swallow, nearly choked.
“I’d….” the guy zoned out for a second, like a drug had finally kicked in on him or something, behind him, I heard something shifting, a stomp, Matt twitched, “I’d listen from now on, or maaaaan….” he shook his head, “Just listen, and everything will be just fine… just right and groovy, ya hear?”
I nodded vigorously, I heard the girl laugh from out of sight.
Shrilly, the guy cackled, in the moonlight he looked like a corpse, “Right on man, glad you understand, man…” he waved, the door swung open a little and I caught a glimpse of a whole crowd standing all behind him in the entryway, dead quiet. They were all in various states of filthiness, I could smell the sweat and rot from outside. Their eyes were all on me, none of them blinked. In the center of the group, there was what looked like a human shape sitting on a chair, draped in a black tarp. Though it was on the chair, it was at least as tall as the tallest person standing up.
The door slammed shut.
I basically jumped to my car in a single bound and peeled out of there like a bat out of hell. The ride home was a blur. I think it only took me ten minutes to get home.
I sprinted inside, flopped on my bed and just buried my face in my pillow for an hour, sweating profusely, my heart hammering. I took out my phone, and after considering it for a second, smashed in 911.
…Busy.
Since when the hell was 911 busy?
I dialed again. And again. And again.
“Nick is mad at you…”
Every car that passed made my already pounding heart beat faster.
I dialed again, and again…
“Hello?” an older woman.
“Yes! Hello! Holy… yes, thank God! Hello! Help, I…”
“Please, you need to slow down. Take a deep breath. I can’t understand you. Where are you right now?”
I stammered out my address, and then everything flooded out, I told her everything. She had to stop me a few times because I was talking too fast, or get me to repeat myself.
I’d been gasping for breath for about a minute after I finished.
She cleared her throat, “Is that all?”
“Yes…” I breathed out.
There was another long pause before she spoke in a monotone voice, “You know what you did wrong, correct, Robert?”
“What?”
“You know what you did wrong.”
She hung up.
I held the phone up to my head, hollow, before dialing 911 again.
I didn’t get through to them.
I flopped back down in the bed, stared at the ceiling.
The police… were they in on it?
What the fuck was this?
Just how deep did it, whatever “it” was… just how deep it all go?
What the hell had I gotten myself involved with?
I didn’t fall asleep that night. I kept staring at the ceiling until dawn, trembling. I must have dozed off around noon I guess, I woke up around three in the afternoon, screaming.
I wished it was all a dream.
I had just gone on a spending spree the day before. If I didn’t go that night, which I absolutely couldn’t do, I would have to find some other way to scrounge up some cash in the next day or so.
I got up and looked at my haggard face in the mirror.
…If I delivered just for the rest of the week… then I could leave the province, maybe. At least the city. Run away. Just pretend to keep complying… then get the fuck away.
I waited, but Matt and the 911 dispatcher’s words echoed in my ear.
With a sudden surge of mania I grabbed my keys and rushed to my car, drove, kept driving, I didn’t know where.
Away.
Far away.
It didn’t matter if I’d end up on the streets, I wasn’t going to end up like… like that guy on the medal. Just fingers.
I made it maybe 2 kilometers before I was pulled over by a ghost car.
“What’s the problem, officer?” I stuttered as I asked the nearly seven feet tall hulking policeman that came to my door. He was huge.
His shades were obscuring his eyes. He didn’t answer. Didn’t move. Just stared at me.
I turned away, crumpling under his hidden gaze, and caught something in the rear-view mirror. There was a young woman in the backseat of the ghost car. She was fidgeting.
I turned back to the officer. He was still silent, “Uhm…” I muttered.
He scowled slightly.
“What did I do wrong?”
“Go home,” his voice was gruff, to the point.
I felt my stomach tie into a knot. I sputtered something, he leaned in a bit before turning around and going back in his car. I saw the girl squirm when he opened the door.
The officer kept staring at me from inside his car while I tried to collect myself and failed.
It didn’t seem real. I didn’t want to believe the obvious implications.
I sped away. The cop stayed where he was.
I kept telling myself everything was a nightmare, or I was insane, stuck in a mental ward.
The police were compromised. They obviously had something to do with it.
How long had it all been happening?
I took an hour long shower when I got home. I kept asking myself why me? Why the hell did it have to be me? What the fuck were they even doing? Why did they need me?
I decided to try leaving again. I didn’t know where I’d go. Anywhere but where I was. I sat on my couch, anxiety choking me, trying to work up the courage to leave, to avoid the police.
My phone vibrated.
A text.
“You’ve been such a good business partner thus far. Please do not spoil things. For both of our sakes.”
My phone vibrated again in my hand, and I dropped it. I ran to the window, hauled the curtains shut, peered through a tiny crack. Only darkness. My teeth chattering, I looked down with despair at my phone’s screen. A photo.
A photo of the front of my house.
My phone vibrated.
“See you tonight, Robert. Regards, Nick.”