When my boyfriend ordered me food delivery, he decided to play a stupid prank in the notes: “This is for my e-girlfriend. Could you do me a solid and check if she’s as hot as her pictures? Heard she looks like a total goddess.” Sighing, I decided to play along with his little game. When I opened the door, the delivery guy’s eyes raked over me. “Wow,” he said. “You’re really beautiful.” I gave him a polite "thank you," but a strange knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. I tried to shut the door quickly, but his foot shot out, blocking it. He stared at me, his eyes boring into mine. “Thank you?” he repeated, his voice low. “So… how are you going to thank me?” 1 I swallowed hard, a cold dread washing over me. My instincts screamed that this was dangerous. The way he looked at me was predatory, like he wanted to devour me whole. It was almost eleven at night; if he forced his way in, I wouldn’t stand a chance. Trying to keep the tremor out of my voice, I forced a calm tone. “You’re right. It’s late and you worked hard to get here. I’ll have my boyfriend add a generous tip for you.” I turned my head and called into the empty apartment, “Liam! Hey, that delivery you ordered? The driver is super nice, make sure you give him a good tip!” My boyfriend, Liam, wasn't here, of course. I was just trying to scare the guy off, make him think I wasn't alone. My heart was a jackhammer against my ribs, but I managed to squeeze out a smile. “Okay, my food’s getting cold, and you probably have more deliveries. Have a good night.” I pushed against the door again. His foot didn’t budge. His face, pitted with coarse pores, leaned closer. “You think I’m an idiot?” he sneered. “If your boyfriend was home, why would the order have your phone number on it?” 2 I flinched back, cursing Liam in my head. He always used his own number when he ordered for me, then texted me when it arrived. Why, of all nights, did he have to use my number and pull this stupid prank with this specific creep? Gritting my teeth, I improvised. “Oh, that? He wanted it to be a surprise, so he wanted me to be the one to get it. It’s just a little game we play. If he used his number, he’d have to get the door, and that would ruin the fun. You know?” The driver grunted, pretending to agree, but then his other hand braced against the doorframe. I could feel him starting to push, his strength slowly building against mine. Panic seized me. My hands, slick with sweat, were straining to hold the door. If he got it open, I was done for. My eyes widened in feigned annoyance, and I yelled back into the apartment, “Liam, say something! Did you fall asleep?!” A second later, my boyfriend’s familiar voice drifted from the bedroom. “Hey, babe, I'm here. Must have dozed off for a sec. What’s taking so long with the food? Are you still out there?” Hearing his voice, the driver finally relented. He stopped pushing and pulled his foot back. His entire demeanor shifted. “Ha, my bad,” he said with a sheepish grin. “I was just trying to help you carry it inside. Since your boyfriend’s here, I’ll get out of your hair. Enjoy your meal.” A wave of relief washed over me. Thank God Liam was so quick on his feet. We’d been on a video call when my phone had buzzed with the delivery notification. Living alone, I’m always cautious. I hadn't ordered anything, so I ignored the call and stayed on the video chat. Liam was the one who told me he’d ordered it, explaining his dumb prank and how the driver just wanted to see what I looked like. He’d told the driver he was worried he was being catfished and needed visual confirmation. He said if I didn’t come to the door, the driver would probably keep knocking. He told me not to overthink it, that the guy would just say I was pretty and leave. I can’t believe I bought it. I figured, fine, I’ll play along for a minute. So I opened the door. But this wasn't what Liam described at all. I was just thankful I hadn’t hung up the call, and that Liam had sensed something was wrong and spoken up. My phone was still in the bedroom, and his excuse about falling asleep made perfect sense. I had tricked him. The driver was finally leaving. As I relaxed my guard and put my weight into shutting the door, his other hand shot out, slapping against the wood. “You’re a fun one,” he chuckled, a sinister glint in his eyes. “Did you really think I was just going to leave?” 3 Before I could even process his words, he started talking, his voice a low, excited murmur. “I was just playing along with you. See how nice I am? This is like our own little game, isn’t it? I’ve never even had a girlfriend before. This is my first time playing something like this.” The door began to creak open as he pried at it. His foot slid back into the gap. The fear was real now, sharp and suffocating. “Get the hell out!” I screamed. “Or I’m calling the cops!” He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he pulled out his phone and showed me the chat log with Liam from the delivery app. My blood ran cold as I saw the messages. Liam had told him everything, holding nothing back. Driver: What if she’s not alone? Liam: She is. I guarantee it. Driver: What if she’s a catfish? Liam: Then do me a favor and teach her a lesson. I knew Liam was just trying to be edgy, fully committing to the stupid “e-girlfriend” prank. But what now? What was I going to do? The gap in the door widened. I told myself to stay calm, glaring at him with all the menace I could muster. “If you touch me, you’ll rot in prison!” His smile just got wider, more grotesque. He waved his phone. “What? I’m just teaching you a lesson, like your boyfriend said. You are a catfish! He said you were a goddess, and yeah, you’re pretty, but you’re no goddess.” His twisted logic left me speechless. The door was opening wider and wider. I couldn't hold him back anymore. I turned to sprint for my phone in the bedroom. Suddenly, an explosion of pain erupted from my scalp. He had a fistful of my hair, yanking me backward with brutal force. A raw scream tore from my throat. I thrashed, trying to break his grip, but he kicked me hard in the stomach. The strength difference was immense; I was powerless. He started dragging me toward the sofa, and a sob escaped my lips. Liam’s voice was still echoing from the bedroom. “Aubrey! What’s wrong?! I think I heard you scream! Should I call 911? Aubrey, answer me!” I tried to scream back, to tell him yes, but just as I opened my mouth, a hand cracked across my face. The world went white for a second. Tears streamed down my cheeks, my mind chanting one frantic thought: No, please, this is disgusting. My whole body trembled as he tied my hands and found my phone. The video call was still active. Liam’s terrified face filled the screen. Seeing him gave me a sliver of hope. “Help…” CRACK. Another slap, harder this time. My face was on fire. “Aubrey! What’s happening?!” Liam screamed, his eyes wide with horror as he saw my swelling cheek. The driver’s leering face appeared next to mine on the screen. “No… I’m so sorry, Aubrey, this is all my fault!” Liam was sobbing now. “I just saw that stupid prank online, I thought it would be funny… How could this happen?! Hold on, I’m coming to save you!” The driver seemed to be enjoying the show. He didn’t hang up. His fingers moved toward the buttons of my shirt. The violation snapped me back to reality. I spat in his face. “You really think you can get away with this?! I don’t know what gives you the nerve, but I have hidden cameras all over this apartment. Everything you’re doing is being recorded! If I survive this, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life in jail! And even if I die, Liam will have the proof to do the same!” I was bluffing, trying to scare him into stopping. It was the wrong thing to say. His hands shot to my throat, squeezing with terrifying force. He was putting his entire weight into it. I couldn't breathe. I couldn’t even make a sound. My mind went blank. I forgot how to draw air. Liam’s voice was fading, a distant, panicked buzz. “Aubrey! Hang on! The police are on their way! You bastard! You murderer! Let her go!” Was this how I was going to die? Choked to death on my own floor? No. I don’t want this. But there was nothing I could do. Just as I thought it was over, my airway opened. Air rushed into my lungs in a great, heaving gasp, and I broke into a violent coughing fit. For a fleeting moment, I thought he’d had a change of heart, that he was letting me go. But then the searing pain returned to my scalp. He was pulling my hair again, dragging me out the door. This was a chance! As soon as we were in the hallway, I would scream my lungs out. Someone would hear. The next second, a towel was shoved into my mouth, gagging me. My heart sank into a pit of cold, black despair. 4 He dragged me toward the stairwell. Everyone used the elevator; the stairs were always deserted. Help me… Somebody, please, help me… I stopped struggling, my body going limp. All I could do was pray that someone, anyone, would hear the noise on the stairs. His face loomed closer. A chill ran down my spine. I squeezed my eyes shut, turning my head away. I had thought that as long as I survived, I could get justice. But as true despair set in, a new thought took root: If he… if he did that to me, I’d rather be dead. Tears streamed from my closed eyes. My heart was a dead, silent thing in my chest. I gave up, lying perfectly still. Suddenly, a bright light flashed across my face, and my heart leaped into my throat. “Who’s there?” a man’s voice called out. The voice sparked a new, frantic wave of resistance in me. I started struggling with everything I had. The driver shoved a few crumpled bills into the newcomer’s hand. “Hey, man. Just pretend you didn’t see anything.” I couldn’t believe anyone would just walk away. I stared at the man on the stairs, my eyes pleading with him, begging him to save me. But right in front of me, he pocketed the cash. “Keep it down,” he said. “And by the way, there are no cameras in the stairwell.” A roaring filled my ears. I couldn't believe what I had just heard. The man continued down the stairs, the crisp sound of his footsteps echoing around me. I didn't care about the shaking of my body anymore. After a few minutes, the man who had assaulted me stood up. I forced myself to remember that I had to live. I had to survive. I stared at him, my eyes wide, trying to memorize his face in the faint moonlight. But then, a kitchen knife appeared in his hand. In the reflection on the blade, I saw my own tear-streaked face, my hair a tangled mess. My legs gave out. With my hands tied, I couldn't move. I could only watch as the knife swung down towards me. Drops of blood slid from the tip of the blade. Before I lost consciousness completely, I saw a twisted, eerie smile spread across his face. 5 I finally understood. The monster never intended to let me go. He wanted to rape and kill me from the start. But I refused to accept it! I didn't want to die like this! Humiliated and forgotten! I want to live! When I opened my eyes again, Liam’s voice was coming from my phone. “Babe, your phone was ringing. Who was it?” I stared at his face on the screen, my mind reeling. I clutched my chest. There was no wound. I realized it instantly. I had been reborn. 6 I scrambled to check my call history. Sure enough, the most recent call was from the delivery driver. I looked up at Liam on the screen. His voice softened. “Aubrey? What’s wrong? You’re looking at me like I’m your worst enemy. Did I do something to make you mad again?” I didn’t have time for him. I grabbed my phone, slid on my slippers, and tiptoed out of the bedroom. My heart pounding, I peered through the peephole in the front door. The hallway was silent and empty. Liam’s voice droned on from the phone. “You’re being way too cautious. Just go get the food. You said you were hungry, so I ordered you something. Hey, maybe the driver will even tell you you’re pretty. What are you so afraid of? It’s just a delivery guy. He’s in a hurry. If you don’t go out, he can’t complete the order on his end.” My nerves were stretched to the breaking point. I couldn’t let what happened before happen again. “Shut up!” I snapped. Liam, offended, abruptly ended the video call. My thumb hovered over the 9-1-1 button. I hesitated. If I called the police and they arrived to find nothing, would they accuse me of filing a false report? But I had to be safe. No matter what, I was not opening that door tonight. I scanned the living room and dragged my small bookshelf in front of the door, wedging it shut. It was the only way I would get any sleep. I turned to go wash my slippers in the bathroom. For some reason, they felt sticky and weird the moment I put them on. I hadn't taken more than a few steps when a knock echoed from the front door. Thump. Thump. Thump. My heart leaped into my throat. I stood frozen, silent, my fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms. I wanted to scream, to unleash all the rage from what I had suffered. But I took a deep breath and quietly dialed 9-1-1. The knocking continued, and the man’s disgusting voice filtered through the door. “Miss, company policy says I have to see the recipient in person. I know you’re in there. Please come get your food. I’m a busy man.” … I would not fall for the same trap twice. I was surprisingly calm now. As the knocking grew more violent, a few books tumbled from the top of the bookshelf. I bent to pick them up. That’s when I saw it. A comic book I had never seen before. It had fallen open to a page where a bold title shocked me to my core: THE PSYCHO DRIVER MURDERS. As if possessed, I picked it up. The woman being murdered in the comic… looked exactly like me.
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