I didn't apply for this job.
One morning, I woke up with a hangover, three unread texts from my ex and a new app on my phone called "DropDead Express" I didn't remember downloading it. Hell, I didn't even remember updating my OS. But the logo was cute — a cartoon skull holding a delivery box — so I tapped it.
Next thing I know, I'm wearing a bomber jacket with the company logo stitched on the back, and there's a rusty moped outside my apartment with "DROP DEAD" spray-painted on it.
I should've uninstalled the damn app.
But the first delivery paid me $500.
So I stayed.
Fast forward two weeks.
I'm officially broke again. Electricity: overdue. Fridge: only contains a bottle of ketchup and a suspiciously wet cucumber. So, like a desperate man chasing rent money, I log back into DropDead.
New Shift Available: 1 Delivery. High Priority. No Questions. $750.
🕒 Estimated Time: 13 minutes
☠️ Client Rating: ✩✩✩✩✩ (Very Friendly)
❗ Destination: House 666, Bleakmoor Road
"Bleakmoor Road?" I squint. That's... not on Google Maps.
A beat passes.
Then another alert pops up:
"⚠️ First delivery of the night determines your SoulTrack™. Choose wisely."
I blink. "My... what now?"
But before I can even say "scam," the app locks the screen and my moped beeps outside like it's in heat.
"Cool," I mutter, grabbing my helmet. "This is fine. I think."
The ride to House 666 is... weird.
Street lights start flickering as I pass. Dogs bark at me like I owe them money. One grandma flips me off from her porch. (Or maybe her hand was just cramped. I'll give her the benefit of the doubt.)
I follow the GPS, which is now speaking in Latin, by the way, down a narrow alley that smells like regret and expired tuna. Finally, I stop in front of an old Victorian house that looks like it's personally haunted by every bad decision I've ever made.
There's a red mailbox that reads "House 666: Do Not Knock. Just Leave It and Run."
Nice.
I take out the package from my box — it's heavy, squishy, and making a low humming noise.
"Okay," I whisper. "Maybe it's a blender."
Then the box growls.
I freeze. "Okay. Not a blender."
The front door creaks open... by itself.
Dark hallway. Zero lights. One flickering candle at the end like a horror movie budget just ran out.
A voice from inside calls out — smooth, deep, too polite:
"You're late."
"Nope!" I spin on my heel. "Package is outside! Bye!"
But the box hovers mid-air.
Yes. Hovers.
And floats slowly into the house, leaving a trail of slime.
I watch, stunned, as the door closes on its own — and I hear a polite ding on my phone.
Delivery Complete.
🎉 You earned: $750 + Bonus Tip: One free exorcism coupon.
🎁 Package Status: Consumed.
Consumed.
Cool. Totally normal.
I ride away like hell's chasing me — and I swear the air feels colder behind me.
Back at home, I sit on the floor, still wearing my helmet, and stare at the app.
Then a new notification buzzes.
Great Job, Ray!
You've unlocked:
Access to Night Shift DeliveriesTemporary Resistance to Mild Demonic EnergyA customer review:
🧛♂️ Client 666: "Delightful service. He screamed less than the last one."
I close the app.
Open the fridge.
Look at the cucumber.
"I need new life choices," I whisper.
Then my phone buzzes again.
New Shift Available. High Priority. $1,000.
Destination: "??? Unknown. Will be revealed upon route acceptance."
My thumb hovers.
Then I sigh... and tap Accept.