Scary Stories

Pizza Delivery

I was working the night shift at an old pizzeria called The Wheel Shop. It wasn't that bad of a job, right across from my university and offered the 'Athlete Meal' to anyone in hockey or football; the only problem with it was that it was an open twenty-four hour throughout Monday to Friday kinda thing. And since everyone in this small town loved the extremely cheesy pizza from this place our delivery system would deliver anywhere half an hour away from the place.
So just as I was stepping through door after one delivery at around 11:30pm, like any other Wednesday night, my coworker dropped three more white boxes into my arms with an odd address written on the receipt, 1069 Taylor's Rd.
I've been through this road over a million times, from the turn off it takes to get there right down to where it ends and Pomquet Road begins, and there has never been a 1069 there before.
So I asked my coworker and even our assistant manager if she was sure this was the right address.
They were both positive.
Nevertheless, I was sceptical. I'm sure it was a prank or something; Halloween was only a week or so away so it wouldn't be too surprising.
But, needless to say, I still had to take the pizza there.
I drove up and down the winding road for almost twenty minutes before spotting a small gray mailbox knocked over in the shallow ditch right across the highway, not even (technically) on Taylor's Road.
The number matched the one on the receipt, 1069. But the driveway I assumed was it's match looked more like a road left by a couple kids in four-wheelers in between the thick forest.
To make things worse it was another five minutes down the dirt path before I so much as saw the weathering brown house; I almost turned back if it weren't for lack of shoulder room to pull over and do so.
The house it's self was older then I could guess, looking like a prop house you'd see in Sherbrooke Village. And the lights were all completely out. It was as still as a stone but whistled with the wind every blow.
I just assumed whoever ordered was a teen either playing games in the basement or something of the sort.
But as I approached the house the stillness turned to uneasiness. Despite the heat from the three pizzas in my arms I still felt a heavy chill. And not even the savoury scent of cheese and garlic could distract me from the awful odder of rotten meat that seemly came from no where.
"Pizza Man!" I called as I banged on the heavy wooden door.
...no answer.
"Pizza Man!" I called again with another form knock.
And I was about to do it one more time, until I noticed someone standing right behind the slim windows framing the door... I couldn't tell if they were a boy or a girl with the lack of light and extreme shadows masking their face, I could just make out a semi shaved head and a T-shirt long enough to meet their knees. And... a large knife in her hand... maybe they were making a salad to compliment the pizza?
I held the pizza boxes up with one hand as I pointed at the red hat I wore with our logo plastered on it.
That's when they began to laugh like the joker, hysterical. I was terrified by the sight.
However, it wasn't until they slammed their head into the glass mid laugh did I split like the window. Dropping the pizzas and bolting to the company van like a mad man, my hat falling off somewhere in the process.
I locked the doors but stared out the windshield as this psycho continued to smash their head on the cracking glass.
What a freak.
But I couldn't pull away. Mainly cause I had no way to turn around. The driveway was empty but it was thin and lead straight to the front step, nothing but thick trees lined the drive.
I started the vehicle after a while of watching this play unfold, thinking who would go as far as to smashed the glass of an old house for dumb prank to keep my sanity.
But once this crazed person heard my engine start they stopped.
Oh great, they're either dead or finally dropping this weird schtick.
But no, because of course that would be too easy.
Instead they threw open the door and came running at the van.
I wasn't gonna drive over the person, but if they were willing to break the windows of their own home then I'm certain they wouldn't hold back breaking my windshield.
I dunno what I thought, maybe they'd eat me like I was the pizza or maybe they'd kill me and stuff me wherever that rotten meat smell came from.
But nonetheless I slammed on the pedal as I shifted the van into reverse.
Back up the curves of the driveway, every turn and bend at full speed.
This psycho, that I could now tell was an older women, came running at me as fast as a panther catching its first pray of weeks.
She cane so quickly she managed to jump on top of the hood of the van with the knife still in hand and stay there for a while before slipping off the side of the hood from the blood coming from her forehead, hands, and bare feet.
But she didn't fall without taking a gashing cut out of the side of the tire.
But even as the van tried to stop itself I didn't let it stop until I got out of her driveway and all the way to the gas station only a six minutes away from it.
I ran in and demanded to use the phone. Calling my manager instead of the police. Telling them I'm quitting and explaining all that had just happened.
And I didn't call the police until a week later.
They told me to come with them after they failed to find driveway. But when I pointed them down it I refused to go any further.
Retiring, they made me get in the car with them to drive down the path... they couldn't find the house?
I only went as long as an officer stood with me the whole time. Cowardly, I know, but can you blame me?
We drive down the dirt path but didn't find it.
Was it on a small turn off I noticed that night but not today? How could I find it in middle of the night during a rush of school work and sleep deprivation but I can find it in broad day light.
Two months later I get a call from the RCMP. They had found what they assumed was the house. Pizza boxes filled with bug ridden, rotten pizza was found on the front step. But nothing was left of the small house.
They said the floors and roof seemed to have collapsed over a year ago and the walls were barely standing with the door far from standing up right. But nonetheless it still matched my description... or at least once did.
After hanging up, my mind a mess of confusion, I turn around to find my red Wheel Pizza hat, muddy and crushed with fingerprints of dried blood left facing me on the counter...
I never left my doors unlocked after that.