I'm a Pizza Delivery Guy...

I'm a pizza delivery guy. It's a simple enough job and when I decided to apply for the job I was aware of the possible...peculiar events that could come with the job. I mean, I would have to go person to person, door to door, city to city, and so on. I could take any weird thing that came my way...at least, I was confident enough in myself to believe that. However, I only started rethinking my choice of applying for this job recently. You see...the weirdest thing happened to me yesterday afternoon on 3733 Pinewood Avenue, and I'm still having trouble processing the whole ordeal. It was a weird enough pizza delivery, to begin with, the customer had ordered a large pizza with extra cheese (normal..), pepperoni (normal...) that spelled out the name 'Ashley' on the pizza (ok...I guess.), anchovies (ew...), and lastly extra onion and extra garlic (breath mint anyone?). It's not like it's my job to judge a person's taste in pizza, looking back at it now the pizza wasn't...too weird. Maybe it's because I'm a cheese only type of guy?I took the pizza as a delivery guy should and left the shop hurrying into my small slightly off parked car out front. It was a chilly afternoon and god forbid the costumer's pizza getting cold. I've gotten pizza's thrown at me before, and though most of the time it's delicious it's extremely messy. Not my thing. I headed up the road a few blocks, made a few quick turns, and soon enough I arrived at the said address on the receipt. By now the town was dimly lit by nothing but a few street lamps and fast-moving cars. My car and I were parked right outside the apartment complex surrounded by a gate. Up front, I could see it was one of the gates that opened by pressing the room number and asking to be let in. I'm not much of a talker. I know it must sound kind of...childish to some, but I have bad anxiety. The type of anxiety that makes me stutter constantly because my brain works too hard thinking of what I should say...that it scrambles me up real bad. I let out a deep sigh. It was the type of sigh you make knowing you're going to fail the important math test, but goddamnit at least you tried. I made my way to the gate, one hand under the soft warmth of the pizza box and the other shoved into my pocket for security. Should've brought a jacket.

There was a loud 'BUUZZZ' that went off as soon as I pressed the room button for the delivery. I waited a while. A long while. I swear I almost turned to leave before suddenly the small gate intercom came to life with a static hum. I could hear shifting...then something tumble over followed by a crash and... a set of very colorful cusswords.Should I call someone?On instinct, my hand reached down to my jean pockets to find what I hoped to be my cellphone. Sadly...I had forgotten that I had left it in my car so the idea of calling someone...was out of the question. "Yeah...?" I looked back up to the intercom, and at this point, I was sweating cold sweat. The voice sounded tired almost irritated in a way, and it made the hair on the back of my neck stand. What...do I say? Hi? Hello? What's up? Open the damned door I'm freezing my ass off out here? After taking a second to recollect my thoughts I cleared my throat and responded with hints of unease in my tone. "U-uhm...Hey...y-yeah I'm um...the pizza guy." There was another moment of silence, kind of...I could hear whispering and for a slight second felt like the outcasted girl in high school...and I thought I had already gotten past that stage. The voice from before spoke again, and this time there was a cheery undertone that I could make out. "Come on up! 12th floor!" and with that, the gate doors opened and a relieved sigh escaped my throat. By now the only problem that came to mind was the temperature of the pizza. Praying that it's not a frozen pizza at this point.

The apartment building was...quiet and lonely in an uneasy way. It wasn't the comforting lonely of your own home, but it was almost menacing. I walked over to the elevator only to groan in annoyance at the 'Out Of Order' sign taped against the elevator doors. He slouched by shoulders a bit before turning to look at the dreaded stairs that led all the way up...to the 12th floor. I'm a skinny dude, my appearance can be deceiving though because to tell you the truth I haven't run a single day since the end of high school. It wasn't a surprise to me when at floor 8 I was already sweating excessively and my legs were somewhat shaking. Jesus...I need to work out more.

The 12th floor wasn't much, it was empty like the rest of the joint...a lot creepier for sure thanks to the flickering light at the end of the seemingly never endless hallway. I looked back at my receipt once more checking the room number before I continued on my way with a tired slouch. There was a smell in the air that swirled around me the closer I got to the said room. The smell was bitter and familiar...it was a gross smell that I didn't like at all, it made my stomach turn but I couldn't...put my finger on it. What is it? It wasn't until my knuckles grazed against the door, the number 47 in silver metal above the small peephole, that I realized what the smell lingering in the air was...metallic. The door swung open faster than my brain could process my newly found discovery... and all I saw was red.

My eyes scanned every possible detail I could. Darkness illuminated by the dimness of candles, red splattered on the walls and scattered furniture, there was something painted in white on the wooden floor of the apartment that immediately reminded me of all those religious scary movies found on my Netflix list. My eyes then moved back to the person who essentially opened the door. He was tall...much taller than me...I mean he was....tall. There was a big difference in smells now...which was a creepy thing to notice on my part. The man in front of me smelled like a kiwi body wash and strawberry shampoo. He was wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, and a towel around his neck, water still running down his chest and arms. His hair was long, damp and dirty blonde, his eyes a smoldering shade of brown that almost appeared maroon in the light of the hallway. He was...attractive. Now's not the time to gay. 

I swallowed hard moving the forgotten pizza box in front of myself so he would grab it and I could be on my way. I know I should've run out...but at this point, my mind was running. I couldn't move my legs, it was as if they were stuck in place. My eyes watched a small smile spread across his face as he reached out and took the box with one hand. With the other, he pulled out a few bills and finally interrupted the deadly silence between us, "How much do I owe you?" His voice was velvet smooth in person, and I would be lying if my face didn't start to burn as soon as he spoke. I looked down at the receipt in my hand, that when I noticed I was shaking. Shaking of nerves? Fear? Both? I couldn't even tell anymore. "I-...Tw...Uhm-"

That was when he leaned forwards close enough for me to feel his hot breath on me, and my mind screamed danger but my body refused to move. My hands were shaking because I could feel his stare run all over me. My breath hitched when he spoke near my ear, "15.37." I could hear the smirk in his tone as he slid a bill into my delivery uniform pocket slightly patting against my chest before pulling away. I didn't look up but I could feel his smile from where I stood. This is bad, this is bad, this is bad. My mind began to race again wondering where my body would be found in a few days. A nice ditch maybe...ThenI heard the man began to chuckle making me snap my head upwards to look him in the eyes. A beam of sweat rolling down my forehead just waiting for him to move, or do something other than just stand there. At this point, I was debating whether I should run or face the fact he might be a psychopath and I might die just then. "You know you're kind of cute! In the scared...bunny kind of way." I stared at him a while confused at the sudden...compliment? Before I could answer he reached out for me. The moment he moved forward body flinched and my eyes squeezed shut. I felt him take a grip of my right arm, I was waiting for something painful...not something that tickled. I opened my eyes again watching with a nervous expression as he wrote something on my arm with a thick black marker.

When he finished he scoffed a bit, possibly at my anxious expression, I looked up quickly to see him turn and wave me away, "See ya later bunny." I took the last few seconds to run my eyes through the apartment once again. My blood running cold, there was no way in hell had imagined any of it. Even when the door slammed behind him I stood there to question what I had just seen. I reached up to my shirt pocket pulling out the twenty dollar bill, a smudge of red on the edges of the bill. My right arm had a full phone number written on it with messy big letters. My face went red and my heart continued to pound against my chest, adrenaline still running through my veins even if the danger seemed to be gone. He was gone. I could still smell the metallic bitterness in the air and at this point, it was making me sick so I hurried out with my stomach still in knots.

My name is Caleb, and I'm a pizza delivery guy. I'm thinking about quitting my job because...I think yesterday afternoon I delivered a pizza to someone in the middle of Satanic ritual and...they gave me their number? After hours of thinking and finally making a decision...I don't think I'm going to quit...and It has nothing to do with the fact I think Derek seems like a cool guy- (That's his name by the way.) -or the fact that we seem to be getting along and maybe made plans to meet up this weekend. I just...think the job is easy and...I can take anything weird that's thrown my way. Yes, even hot dude doing satanic rituals in their living room.