If you'd told me last week that I'd be delivering a package to a cult, I would've laughed. But after delivering to shadow women, glitching apartments, and cursed boxes? Yeah. At this point, I just sighed, grabbed my helmet, and muttered, "Sure. Why not."
My app chirped: NEW DROP. CLIENT: FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD CULT. PACKAGE: TIME-SENSITIVE. SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS: BE POLITE.
Be polite? Oh, no.
I arrived at the address: a cute little suburban cul-de-sac lined with picket fences, blooming gardens, and pastel-colored houses. It looked like something out of a '50s sitcom. Only... every mailbox had the same smiling sun symbol painted on it. And every house had identical curtains, identical lawn gnomes, identical everything.
Creepy.
I parked and walked up to the house number 13 (because of course it was number 13). As I approached, the front door swung open, revealing a smiling woman in a bright yellow dress. Her eyes didn't quite match her smile—they were too wide, too bright.
"Welcome, Ray! We've been expecting you!" she chirped.
"Uh, thanks. Here's your package—"
"Oh, no no no," she interrupted, taking my arm. "You must come in first! The ceremony is about to start!"
"I really shouldn't—"
Before I could finish, I was dragged inside.
The living room was filled with people dressed in yellow robes, all smiling unnervingly. In the center was a giant sun-shaped cake. Someone was handing out punch.
"Friends!" the woman announced, tugging me forward. "Our special guest has arrived!"
They all turned to me, smiling.
I forced a grin. "Uh... hi?"
The cult leader, a tall man with a perfect golden tan and teeth so white they practically glowed, approached. "Ray, Ray, Ray. We're so grateful you're here today. You're delivering hope."
"Actually, I'm delivering this." I held up the package.
He chuckled. "Oh, you're funny. But no, no. Today, you're delivering yourself."
My smile faltered. "Wait, what now?"
The cult members began to chant softly, swaying side to side. I took a step back, nearly tripping over the punch table.
"Look," I said quickly, "I really just need a signature—"
But the leader raised his hand, and the room fell silent.
He leaned in, whispering, "Do you know what we worship here, Ray?"
I gulped. "Um... the sun?"
He beamed. "Not just the sun. The laughing sun."
Suddenly, the room filled with eerie, synchronized laughter.
"Oh, no," I muttered, eyes darting to the door.
The walls began to shimmer, sunlight pooling unnaturally bright across the floor. Shadows twisted, taking on shapes that didn't match the people casting them.
My phone buzzed violently: URGENT WARNING: DO NOT DRINK THE PUNCH. DO NOT EAT THE CAKE. DO NOT JOIN THE LAUGHTER.
I glanced at the punch table—half the room was already sipping. Their eyes shimmered gold.
Panic clawed up my throat. "Okay, cool, lovely party, gotta go—"
But the leader blocked the door. "Ray, we haven't even sung the anthem yet."
The anthem turned out to be less of a song and more of a collective shriek. The air vibrated as they howled, voices bending reality itself. Plates rattled, my vision blurred, and the package in my hands began to pulse, heat radiating from within.
"OH NO, NOPE, I AM OUT," I yelled, bolting for the nearest window.
Glass exploded around me as I dove through, landing in a bush with an undignified thud. Scrambling to my feet, I booked it for my moped, package clutched to my chest.
Behind me, the cult members poured out of the house, still laughing. The leader waved cheerfully. "Come back anytime, Ray!"
"NEVER!" I shouted, kicking the moped to life.
As I sped away, my phone buzzed: DELIVERY COMPLETE. CLIENT SATISFACTION: 100%. BONUS AWARDED.
I glanced down. A golden coin had appeared in my pocket, stamped with the sun symbol.
Great. Just what I needed. Cult currency.
Back at my apartment, I collapsed onto the couch, still shaking.
The TV flickered on by itself, static dancing across the screen. A familiar voice crackled through: "Good work today, Ray. But you know this is just the beginning."
I groaned, pulling a blanket over my head. "I'm so quitting tomorrow."
But we both knew I wouldn't.
My phone buzzed softly: NEXT DROP PENDING. STAY ALERT.