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I got forced into working for a mysterious man and it changed my life.

I’m sitting here not quite sure why writing all of this out is important to me, but I have to. I want someone to know what I have been through if something happens to me. I want to start by saying that there are things in this world that logic cannot simply explain, things living and nonliving can hold power.
This is a universal truth I have come to realize. This being said our society plays a very small part in this unfolding world of ours. We have to roll with the punches sometimes and let things pass in silence with no complaints because things can be much worse.
Now, I know that you’ve gotten little to no explanation as to what I am talking about, but at the same time, neither have I. However, I do ask that all of you bare with me...I have not had the time to myself to just put into words, my situation. I don’t really have downtime any more. I work. At first I didn’t really understand, but now I know that sometimes we don’t need to understand the things we do. My life was flipped upside down and torn apart right in front of me before I even had the chance to do anything about it, I have been thrown into this confusing abyss, living paycheck to paycheck….sounds pretty normal I know, but trust me it’s far from that.
I want to start my story by being in the past, I want this to be a narrative about how the life I knew, the people I knew, all got taken away from me.
All of this started in my senior year of high school. I was a dealer...can you blame me though? I was a nobody before, and I needed some extra cash, so I went all in. I hooked people, got them into experimenting with all kinds of drugs: weed, shrooms, LSD….I sold more, but what I sold doesn’t hold that much weight in this story. What does however, is the networking it takes to get enough to sell so that you can make a profit off of your supply. Normally you’d just jack up your prices to make five or ten extra dollars off of every purchase. That’s the wrong way to do it though….Talk to gang members, police officers, politicians...get to know them, cut them breaks, and earn respect. Respect can take you higher than any number of zeros on a check.
In the underground world, at least in my area I was pretty well known. I did everything the right way in my opinion. Selling invite only, and on occasion extorting and bribing in the same manner.
Now I do not believe that the following events that preceded where I am today were accidents. Everything is a process. It started when a few of my long time buyers were late or didn’t show up to arranged times and places, after, everything just began to fall apart and I couldn’t make any connections to it. I did get word that there was somebody poking their nose around places that they shouldn’t be from an informant that I paid a fortune to even get that much from.
I don’t enjoy it when people mess around with all the work I have put in. It’s not the first time someone has tried to shut me down. I’ve had a VICE unit attempt to take down my operation before, but like I said connections are important. The long story short there is; becoming the judge’s dealer was my best decision by far.
Now, to introduce you guys to the shit show I have gotten myself into. The days progressed, and I slowly started losing money, people started dropping my calls, and worse of all people started disappearing. I would invest in a P.I. but that is too much money that I don’t have...and the more people who know my name right now just become liabilities.
August 12th 2016, I come home to an empty house after a one off deal with some kid. His birthday was this weekend and wanted something special. I got 350 USD from this kid. A big spender, he bought a lot, and I wasn’t going to complain. This was the biggest deal I have had in a while due to all my regulars just dropping off.
I sat in my running car, in my driveway for a good ten or so minutes counting through my money, and pondering how my family was doing. I live alone in a little town. My family is overseas, and we don’t talk much. So that’s the relationship we have. Boring...and a little sad. You guys shouldn't care too much about that though. Another story for another time. Finally, turning the keys in the off position. I pocket the cash, and start getting out of my sedan. A narrow brick pathway with small dirt patches and overgrown grass poking through the cracks laid in front of me. The path was longer than most that led to the front doors of the homes in my subdivision. I was shocked to see a package laying in wait for me. I didn’t think much of it at first, however, when it started to ring and vibrate when I entered my home. My anxiety raised a little bit.
Quickly shutting the door behind myself. I plop my ass down on the couch in my living room. The box still vibrating and ringing. I pull the knife I constantly carry around out of my pocket, and flick it open. I slice the tape (very satisfying, I’m sure you can understand). It’s funny my anxiety was lessened when I saw the flip phone on the inside. “At least it’s not a bomb..” I sighed. It wasn’t a real bomb, but rather a metaphorical bomb, and one that would change my life drastically.
I flipped it open, and clicked the green phone icon, on the left and with a click I chuckled. “Hello?...” I asked thinking it was going to be some kids who had gone out of their way to prank me. I sat. Waited for what seemed to be minutes before a response. Then out of nowhere, I got hit with the dial tone...they had hung up. I shrugged it off and tried to continue with my day, but I couldn’t shake this feeling of being watched.
The days continued, and the feeling of dread continued to grow on me. After every deal. The clients, getting sketchier each and every time. More violent. I want to stop dealing at this rate. Days pass. I stop eating...I can’t. My life is flipped...continuing to lose contacts left and right. Anxiety peaking. I jump at every sound in my house now, and I feel like I’m being followed too. It’s been a week since I received the phone. I haven’t touched it since the day I got it. It’s just sitting on my coffee table collecting dust in front of my sofa.
To my surprise, and after my life decided to slowly fall the fuck apart. The phone lit up with an unknown number. I saw this from across the room. The vibration and sound caught me off guard as if I had forgotten how phones worked. I answered. “Who is this?..” I trailed off. Thoughts crossing my mind at a million miles an hour about what the deal was with this phone. “Hello, Calum.” A deep voice cooed from the other side.
My heart sank.This didn’t feel like someone was pranking me. I could almost feel the sadistic grin of the man on the other side. “W-who….the fuck are you man?!” I croaked. I didn’t care what I sounded like. In that moment I wished I had never started what I did and I missed my family. There was too much bad blood between us to let things end. I was assuming the worst.
A low chuckle erupted from the other side, and then silence... followed by the dial tone. Just like before I was left with my thoughts. Nothing but assumptions.
UPDATE: It’s been a couple days since the last call...I don’t know what to do anymore...I’m just waiting around for answers to jump out at me though I know that’s not going to happen.
My mental health is declining, and I feel like this is an awful dream...the only thing I know is real is the pain of malnourishment. I haven’t eaten or drank much. Every time I try to keep something down it's useless. I don’t know what to do. I’m just gonna wait and do my best to not literally die of anxiety.
More time has passed, days or maybe a week by now, but I find myself passing out frequently. Some people have come to check on me, but it’s no one I would like to see. I think it’s sunday but I have lost track of time. I don’t want to see anyone. As far as I am concerned the only thing I need to know is who has my name, and why they are tormenting me...I don’t know what sick game he is playing, but I’m not going to die over this.
UPDATE: I’ve decided the best thing for me to do is to start building up my body mass and not die. I don’t care if I lose my name in the underworld anymore...I’d give anything for all of this to stop. That however, is wishful thinking there is no turning back for me. I have started up my old workouts to get me back in shape. Military stuff. My dad was a seal for twenty years. He made a career out of servicing his country so I grew up with him training me. Not necessarily to fight, but he taught me enough to protect myself. It’s been another two or three weeks now, and I’m pretty much back to normal. I’m not selling but I am keeping myself occupied.
Though obsessing over the phone is what is taking up my time. Another thing...The feeling of being watched hasn’t gone away, but I’m ready now for anything, or anyone.
UPDATE: It’s October first today. I finally have my head on straight. I woke up today cooked, trained, and waited...that’s pretty much all I have been doing for a while. I haven’t left my home in forever but I am ready for whatever this guy wants for me. It was around seven p.m. when the phone rang again. “W-...” I was cut off. “I need you to …” I’m not going to bore you with the details of the very one sided conversation, but I will give an address if that's what you guys want just let me know. The man gave me a place and time. He instructed me to come with nothing. My first thought was ‘Like hell i’m coming without anything.’ Before the call ended the man said “This is your only chance…”
I did my research after the call ended, and the guy wanted me to go to some abandoned building in Jacksonville Florida. I had two days. I wasn’t going to find out what my other options were especially with the ominous feeling in the air that has been around me for nearly 3 months.
I drove into the city hours before dark that way I coud survey the building before I made the dumbest decision of my life. It was a three to four story warehouse. Boarded up and overgrown with vegetation. “Man what would I give to live in this palace…” I sadistically joked to myself.
(I wanted to update you guys on something. I know I’m not thinking properly, but i don’t care at this point. My morbid curiosity is pushing me forward and I don’t want to stop. I felt like I was on this declining path, but I feel myself getting psyched for what’s gonna happen. Fuck it.)
UPDATE: Night has fallen and I’ve parked at this 7-11 right down the street from the building. I have nothing on me. Not even my knife I usually carry.
I don’t know how well you guys know downtown Jax, but if there is one thing I must say. The amount of homeless people is pretty bad. I am no stranger though to sketchiness so I just have to deal.
The building is touching this property next to it called confederate park. The only way in I found while passing it earlier is a window facing the park. So that is my only option. I’m not James Bond so the next part is a little less than spectacular. Bare with me…
There is a small stream that separates the park and the building. Rightly so, there is a section of the main road that is a small bridge that allows for the water to flow under it. At that area it's probably six feet high from the foundation of the building, and that is where I dropped down. I pushed passed a couple shrubs and saw a large piece of wood put up in a corner of a barbed wire fence and the building. Attempting to shimmy my way up the piece of wood without using the fence on my first go was a mistake. I slipped and fell hurting my ankle a bit. Nothing serious, but a drag because of the noise I made. Second try I got in (with the assistance of the fence for stability before I threw myself up into the window).
I was in a small dark room that led both left and right. I guess I didn’t need to dress so dark. I couldn’t even see two feet in front of me. My black hoodie and equally as black jeans were just being used for warmth now. More about the building though, it was a production factory back in the day so if anything happened I was hoping to be able to find tools or something in order to defend myself.
Walking to the opening on the left led me to this large caverness room. I had no idea how big it was, but I didn’t want to explore too much in fear that I would make too much noise. Though the stealth factor was no longer helpful because I tripped over a fucking bucket…’nice fucking job fucktard.’ was the insult I granted myself in my head. When all the noise from the commotion I made came to an end I heard loud thuds coming from the upper floors coming closer. “BOOM, BOOM’ echoed as whatever it was, made its way down the stairs. My heart sank and I was practically shitting myself. Like I said, not James Bond.
The next bit though I will pat myself on the back for. In my panic I found this metal rod that was a couple feet long, Probably not good enough to fight whatever big thing coming down my way but definitely enough to stun or kill him or it, if I caught them by surprise. I threw rocks and other rubble in different corners in the room when I heard the creature reach the bottom of the stairs. Hoping that I had disoriented it a little bit I positioned myself in a small office in the giant space. Some of the moon light illuminated sections of the room, leaving only two things: Bright as fuck, and darker than black by contrast. A figure came in from another door and stood in the light momentarily. It was a man, much, much bigger than me. Probably 6’6 and three hundred pounds give or take. “Shit” I mumbled.
I was so fucked.
The man’s shirtless body was covered in some liquid that looked as though it was dripping downward as if he had something on his head. I strained my eyes because of the distance and almost vomited when I saw what was on his head. He was wearing the head of a dog as a mask. Blood dripping down his body. My body went numb, and I got cold feet. I sat and contemplated. ‘I don’t think I can fight a monster like that’ kept going through my head.
I am not small by any means, but I’m nowhere near that guys body mass and shear strength. I did think of a plan though. I silently made my way out of the room being careful not to fuck up again and commit suicide via knocking over a bucket. I made my way to a staircase on the opposite side of the building. I started on my way up and made it to the third floor when I knew my plan could work. A spot where I could take a risk. A hallway that had two doors on each side, assumingly bathrooms because of the stench, but I wasn’t about to torture myself with what was inside. I didn't want to know with the stench that was in the air. (It was probably the rest of the dog if I’m being honest). I slammed both doors waiting a good ten seconds in between just so that the man could further understand where the sound came from. I sighed, and tried to visualize what I was going to do.
I found some resolve and decided it was kill or be killed. I heard the heavy breathing of the 300 pound man coming up the stairs. I’m guessing Cardio isn’t his thing. I sat in a small space that was meant for a decorative tree or trash can, a little hole in the wall if you will. And then here he was right in front of me.
My breath slowed, and silent. I was calm just like all those hunting trips my father had brought me on as a kid. The metal rod I had in my hand was one of those cast iron rods that weighed a good thirty or so pounds.
I heard a chuckle come the man as if he was having fun hunting me down. This was the moment I chose to swing as hard as I could at his knee. He reached for the door just as I made contact. A loud crack rang through the air, as well as a grunt of anger and pain. “What the fuck!” a low voice rumbled and he tried to stand back up and failed. I definitely shattered his knee. He wasn’t going to be able to walk. I couldn't just let him make more noise though for fear there may be others. I ended it. It was easy all it took was one really hard hit to the man’s head. Again, I heard a crack, but this time followed by a squish and a splat. His brain matter covered the ground.
I felt myself slowly slipping away into madness. Sometimes you have to become a monster to fight one would be the way I would describe it. I’d like to think of myself as rational, but I did get myself into this, and I intend to see this game through. UPDATE: I’ve gone through the other floors, and I am certain that asshole was the only guy here. The only thing left was the final floor. “I’ll be damned if this is what I came here for...almost dying, what shit.” I cursed under my breath. Before I looked up at what could be the final destination, or at least the reason I came here. Reaching the top of the stairs I see lights surrounding a table filled with men in suits. There was another man standing, and almost ushering me in.
I dropped the rod and walked forward. The scattered whispers and murmurs became clearer. They were talking money. I think I had a good idea of what was going on. Another look, and i see that all but one guy have guns either out on the table of in holsters on their belts. I decided to stay quiet.
I stood next to the only man standing. We were the same height and relatively the same build. However, I got this vibe that I shouldn’t fuck with him.
“Gentlemen! You have seen him in action. Now, let the bidding begin, but remember he is mine. You’re just paying for the dirty work you don’t want to do yourself.” The man whose voice sounded too familiar. Then it hit me...he was the man who had been calling me. It wasn’t the place or time to protest so I just nodded each time one of the men stared at me.
The numbers climbed, and climbed. I was surprised with the prices. An hour passed and I was ‘sold’ for the ripe price of twenty five grand. The table of men dispersed in a timed and rehearsed fashion. Leaving in intervals.
When it was just the man who sold me and I in the room alone I opened my mouth to speak. I was cut off by a curt “Go home i’ll explain the details soon. Get some rest. You earned it…” I wasn’t about to complain, though I hated this sudden obedience coming through me. He instructed me when to leave after he did… I followed those instructions, and made my way out of the building and back to my car. This was one of many nights of no sleep to come.
I’ve gotten several phone calls from my new “boss” over the course of the past couple days. They’ve been really strange, and they all feel like tests. Him checking up on my mental state I guess. My intuition tells me that he doesn’t trust that I won’t do anything to screw him over in the long run yet, and that my new found cheery attitude is off putting for him.
For the sake of the story we will be calling the man on the other side of the phone Tom. During my most recent conversation with him he has spoken to me about payment, and how what had happened was important to my development in his business. Something about dying and being born again. Some gibberish. What did strike a chord with me was when he began talking about money.
In his own words “You will receive an initial payment before each job you take in order to purchase or request items that you may find useful after you have been briefed on what you will be doing. Also, following the completion of each job you will report to me, and receive the rest of your money. So long as you did a good job.”
“I get paid?” escaped from my mouth. “Well you are working.” Tom chuckled. “The better you do, the more jobs that I will assign to you.”
He was giving me an incentive to be loyal. And I am not afraid to say that I took it. “What else is keeping me around aside from money? What’s keeping me from either running away or killing you?” was my retort. A sigh echoed from the speaker. “If you run away...I will get one of my other underlings to kill you, and you aren't stupid enough to try and kill me...I felt that when you stood next to me for the first time. That would be your last fight...If you’d be able to call it that.” His tone serious and cold.
I paid it no more attention. “When and how will I be receiving the first payment?” I asked anxious to start. Though fear was setting into my very being I knew that so long as I did my job, and did it well my life would go on, and who knows I could fall in love with my new situation.
His reply was short, and straight to the point. I was to stay in my home, and await a courier to leave a box in front of my home later that day. I had six hours after that point to get what I needed for a delivery job. This includes a burner car, and something to keep me safe. Which, if I’m going to be honest sounds fun to hunt for.
Some time passed and I received a package from this young hispanic woman. She didn’t talk. Just rang the doorbell and handed it to me without question. I stuttered “T-thanks..” but she was already turned around and walking away, and that was when I noticed she was carrying both a small revolver and a decent sized knife. I already knew that this shit was shady, but I grinned at what my life turning into. Before it was just a game...This was real.
“If this is going to continue, I may die. Well...when in Rome...” Flowed from my mouth effortlessly as an insane grin escaped from the ends of my lips. I was getting psyched for my mission. I felt like I was gonna be in a GTA game and I felt like reality was slipping away, but...I liked this escapist ideal. My old life was over.
I worry though. Not that my family and I are on good terms, but this will likely cause an end to all forms of communication. I called my new found boss after I had gathered a few materials for the upcoming job. I needed to ask for a favor. All I needed now was a car, but that is easy enough to find, but what was really necessary was that i needed to fake my death or at least make it so my family wouldn't have to worry about me in the future. I'd rather them mourn for a little while than them know I'll be doing all the life threatening jobs for Tom until he either loses interest, or I die.
Tom and I discussed my issue for a short amount of time. He sounded satisfied knowing that as soon as he did this I had nothing to go back to. He said that he would handle the details of the whole thing.
Part 2:
Tom definitely handled my death with grace. Only hours after I called him he sent me a text saying that I could fully focus on the job now, and that I had nothing to worry about any longer. This is true, I was now a dead man walking.
In the time it took for Tom to handle stuff on his end I acquired a cheap burner car off of craigslist. A beat up van for a couple grand. Enough for the single job. The man came with his wife to drop it off at my place. I paid them in gas for their trouble, and we talked for a quick minute before they left. Nice people, and good people. It was the last “normal” thing I’ve experienced in little while. I called Tom again and told him that I was ready. He gave me specific instructions on how to act when I got to the first location. It was a pick up point. I am not giving out that location because it is still a hub for pick-ups and drop-offs for my organization, and a few others.
I started the drive. It was a good thirty minutes or so to the pick-up point. My anxiety rising the whole ride. Around the fifteen minute mark Tom called me to remind me that when I arrived I needed to turn the car off and look straight. No matter what happened pay the people no mind and just unlock the door when they knocked three times. Tom and I agreed that I would call after the drop off was completed.
My drive ended with me pulling into this empty lot that only had access via one long drive way that lead into the woods for over a quarter mile. I parked in the center of the lot and turned off the engine and sat. Ten or so minutes went by when a squad of four vehicles pulled in behind, on both my left and right, and in front of me. They of course had me blocked off just in case anything went south in this exchange. Smart.
I sat and waited for the three knocks. I was practically shitting myself when multiple people came out of each vehicle with large assault rifles. I am no expert, but I am willing to guess all of them were fully automatic. “BOOM BOOM BOOM” shots fired, but not at me. They were into the sky. In fact I don’t really know. I did as told and kept looking straight. It had felt like an eternity, but the knocks came in quick succession, and I unlocked the door. Four large bags were dropped into the van, and as quickly as they started they left. No words exchanged just as planned. I waited in the empty lot for a few moments to let the others leave, and to give myself time to gather my thoughts.
I turned the engine over, and began the U-turn to start down the long driveway. Calling Tom was next on the agenda. I dialed the number and immediately he picked up. “It went well.” I sighed through the phone. “No one got hurt and it was clean and quick.” Tom responded in typical fashion. Curt and quick slightly praising me for the work I was doing. His demeanor changed a smidge.
I already had the details for the other drop off points. So I began the second half of my mission. Four drop off points all around forty five minutes away from each other. This was becoming tedious, but I am technically dead so there is actually nothing else for me to do. Except follow orders.
I listened to music when I was on route hoping that all of the deals would go through smoothly just as the pick up did.
The first spot was in a lower class neighborhood. I followed the street signs, and pulled up into what almost looked like a shack, but it was just a tattered old home. It was small and overgrown with the shrubbery.
I guess nothing is forever.
I pulled in the driveway and sat for a moment making sure that it was indeed the right place, and to observe for a moment to make sure I was safe. Yes I have my knife, and yes I have a gun. Hopefully I won’t have to use either.
I got out confidently. Grabbed one of the bags from the van and made my way into the home. A single unlocked wooden door was the only entrance and exit. I pushed passed it to see the most boring inside of a home you can imagine. Just boarded up windows, bare floors, a table, and a masked man with a briefcase.
“Uh...Hi I have your….uh… yeah.” I really didn’t know what was in those bags. All my job was to drop them off at the addresses and then ditch the car.
I dropped the bag on the table in front of the man. He opened it and spoke.
“You have any others in that van outside?” He coughed after taking a hit off a cigar.
I lied flat out. In a confident voice I simply said “no” and turned around.
I heard a click, and immediately knew it was a gun. Specifically the hammer being pulled back on a revolver to make the trigger extra sensitive. Making firing easier. I just ran to the door. Opened it and got in my car as fast as I could. I squealed my tires as I floored it out of there. Hearing shots from the pistol, and hearing bullets hit the back of the car.
This was more than I was expecting, and I still had three more drops to go.
The second was lackluster and easy. That is, in comparison to getting shot at. The second address was behind an abandoned WalMart. A single Black van was in the lot so I pulled up grabbed a bag, and knocked on the widow of the vehicle. I gestured with the bag and the driver unlocked the car. I simply opened the back, dropped the bag in and got back into my car.
Leaving first. Courtesy to the person dropping off. It’s an unspoken rule.
I was on route to the third point when I received a call from Tom detailing that the location had been compromised, and that He was working on another place for me to go. He also stated that he had arranged for the the fourth drop to be at a closer location.
I Just asked where to go, and continued driving.
I grew tired of all the music on the radio. It was just the same eight or so songs on repeat every hour, and it was driving me quite literally insane. My nerves were rising, and I was anxious now. It was a feeling I didn’t even have when I was getting shot at only a few hours before.
The new “spot” for the would be fourth drop off point was just a clearing off a dirt trail near the highway. When I pulled in it was starting to become dusk. They were gang members. Some I knew, and some I didn’t I was confused, but kept up the poker face. I got out of the van once more and went to the back door to retrieve one of the last two bags remaining. A voice called out. “Ayy man both of those are for us.” The anonymous voice rang out.
I simply dropped the one and closed the door. The same voice spoke once more. “You heard me right? You stupid or something?”
I didn’t respond. I just turned and looked at him sizing him up as he began to close the gap between himself and I. I took a deep breath and sighed. “ Can’t do that for y’all today”
“The hell you can’t!” The man yelled as he went for a punch.
I took a quick half-step back before catching him off balance and slamming his head into the car door. “I said what I said now leave it.”
A small whimper came from him as he attempted to get back up. I kicked his side, and He bagan gasping for air. Still shouting profanities and cursing my family.
He was no one I knew. A literal nobody. In fact I’m pretty sure the others were laughing at him. My thought now was that I needed to do something, anything.
The man was on one knee and spitting at me so I took my holstered knife from my pant leg and drove it into his knee. A scream rang out, and IT was wondrous. The sheer euphoria took me away from the deal for a moment, but I was dragged back into reality by the group of people closing in on me.
I spoke.
“If I die by you guys, and you all take the other bag. You’ll have more than just one body on your hands, and I am not talking about me.”
They stopped dead. I pulled out my pistol and finished the one guy off. I needed to make a point, or an example if you will to ensure that the clients knew that for future reference. Neither I or who I work for should be fucked with, and we should be taken seriously.
It was a necessary loss of life.
A precaution for the future.
I left the site, and immediately called Tom. I was frustrated and riled up. “Tom...I finished the drop off with the gang members. However, there was a slight bump in the exchange.” I’m not sure how I sounded over the phone, but I was not empathetic towards the man I killed at all. He got in the way of my new life and what needed to happen, happened.
He replied “If it was necessary I do not have an issue with your actions. Do try to keep the loss of life to a minimum.”
“Yes Sir..”
I hung up the phone, and went to the final location. Yes, I know Tom and I did not talk about the location on the phone. There is this magical thing called texting. Wild right? The drive was short and sweet, and the delivery was even better. No crazy half-wit gangbangers just a suburban dad doing his best for his family. I respected the man. He was well dressed and well spoken. We didn’t speak much though, only simple remarks such as “a pleasure,” and “Have a nice night.”
I was satisfied. My self analysis of my performance was high.
I ditched the car by setting it on fire and sending it into a lake. Afterward, I had a long walk to think about my actions. It was a long night, and it was certainly not the last with no sleep.
submitted by -MattCrag- to nosleep

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