The Mystery Parcel

The past few days had been normal.

Perfectly normal.

No weird glitches. No 'Sign Now' prompts. No flickering screens or time loops.

Just streaming.

Mykal had jumped right back into his routine—late-night gaming, coding challenges, and occasional deep web dives (within legal limits, of course). His viewers had no idea about the insane dream he had the other night.

To them, DescentMoon was the same as ever.

[User: C0ldByte]: BRO U DIPPED FOR A FEW DAYS, THOUGHT U GOT SWATTED LMAOOO

[User: NiteCreep]: Yo Moon, u heard about that hacker group taking over gov servers? U could do better fr

[User: YumeVFX]: I missed u 😢 ur the only thing keeping me sane at 3AM

He laughed, reading the comments. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Been busy. But don't worry, I'm back."

Just like that, the eerie dream was pushed to the back of his mind.

Nothing was wrong.

Right?

That evening, Mykal went out to grab some essentials from the grocery store a few blocks away.

It was quiet outside. A slight chill in the air. The streets weren't empty, but there weren't too many people either. The kind of atmosphere that made footsteps louder than usual.

As he walked through the aisles, tossing in instant ramen, canned coffee, and some actual food so he wouldn't die of malnutrition, he suddenly felt it—

That weird sensation.

The feeling of being watched.

He glanced over his shoulder.

No one.

Still, the feeling didn't go away.

His grip on the cart tightened as he hurried toward the checkout line.

That's when he saw him.

A man.

Standing at the end of the aisle.

Staring.

Dressed in dark clothes. Expression unreadable.

A weird panic shot through Mykal's chest. His breathing quickened.

The man moved.

Towards him.

Nope.

Nope.

Mykal shoved his cart forward and made a beeline for the registers.

The cashier barely had time to scan his items before he was already getting his wallet to pay. His hands were slightly shaking, but he tried to act casual.

The moment the transaction went through, he grabbed his bags, put it on the pushcart and ran.

Yes—with the pushcart.

People turned to stare as he pushed the damn thing all the way to the exit, practically sprinting with it.

Only to hear—

"Uh, sir?"

Mykal turned, heart pounding.

The man was standing a few feet away, holding out a small flyer.

A goddamn credit card flyer.

"...What?"

The man blinked. "You okay?"

Oh.

Mykal exhaled sharply, feeling like an idiot. His face burned with embarrassment.

"...Yeah. Thought you were someone else." He grabbed his bags and walked off, leaving the pushcart like a dumbass.

The man watched him go, probably thinking, What the hell is wrong with this guy?

By the time Mykal reached his apartment complex, his heart had finally stopped racing.

He shook his head. That was stupid.

He needed to chill.

Reaching his door, he was about to unlock it—

Then he froze.

Someone was standing there.

Right at his door.

A man, dressed all in black—black cap, black mask, black shirt. Holding a small parcel in his hands.

A delivery guy?

Mykal frowned. He hadn't ordered anything. Had he?

Did he accidentally buy something that night? Maybe when he was half-asleep?

Still, something about this felt off.

The man didn't move. Didn't knock. Just stood there.

Waiting.

Mykal hesitated for a second before approaching the man.

"Uh… an order?" he asked, eyeing the parcel in the man's hands.

The guy nodded. "Yes, sir. It's under Mykal Reyes, and this is your address."

That made Mykal pause. He didn't remember ordering anything.

"Are you sure?"

The delivery guy turned the package slightly, revealing the label.

Mykal froze.

His full name. His exact apartment address.

A weird feeling crawled up his spine.

He forced a chuckle. "Maybe I… ordered something half-asleep."

Still uneasy, he pulled out his phone and opened his online shopping app. If he had ordered something, it should be in his pending deliveries.

No recent orders. No pending shipments.

He frowned. "Weird. I don't see anything on my app."

"It's already been paid for, sir."

Mykal looked up.

That was the first red flag.

He never paid online.

Ever.

He always chose cash on delivery. He didn't trust online shops—they could steal your card details, track your purchases, who knows what else.

So why was this already paid for?

His stomach twisted, but he forced himself to act normal. "Uh… okay, I'll just take it then."

The delivery guy gave a short nod and reached into his pocket.

For a split second, Mykal's breath caught. His body tensed. His mind screamed:

Shit—what is he pulling out?

A knife? A gun?

His pulse spiked—

But the man simply pulled out a phone.

"I need proof of delivery, sir," he said calmly. "Don't worry, I won't take a picture of your face. Just you holding the parcel."

Mykal let out a slow breath. Calm down, dude.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever." He grabbed the package and stood still as the guy snapped a quick photo.

Then, wasting no time, Mykal rushed to his door.

Keys. Unlock. Get inside.

He pushed the door open, stepped in, and was about to slam it shut—

"Wait, sir."

Mykal's chest tightened.

The guy's voice was still calm, polite, but something about it made the hairs on his arms rise.

He turned his head slightly. "…What?"

"There's one last thing."

The delivery guy lifted a clipboard. A sheet of paper attached to it. A pen clipped to the side.

"I need you to sign this. Just company protocol, sir. To confirm you received the package."

Mykal stared at the paper.

His fingers twitched slightly.

Something felt wrong.

But what was he supposed to do? Make a scene over signing a delivery receipt?

His paranoia was acting up. That's all.

"Yeah, sure." He took the pen and signed it quickly.

Then he shoved the clipboard back into the guy's hands, slammed the door shut, and locked it.

Leaning against the door, he exhaled sharply.

Something wasn't right.

But he'd already signed.