CreepyPasta - a collection

The Package

Dear Trusted Ally,

If you receive this, you have a duty to fulfill. You know about our predicament by now, and you’re alone, with nothing to do but be scared, so forge ahead and read. Read the whole thing. The WHOLE thing. Please.

I sat in one of the black leather chairs provided at the gate, shivering in my threadbare coat. I looked at my watch, noting the time (5:27 PM), and tapped my foot nervously. My seat would be called to board in approximately three minutes.

I’d spent almost all of the money I’d had left after purchasing my small apartment in Hastings, TX on this flight there. I needed a new life. The one I had here in New Orleans was not safe. And it held memories I wanted to forget.

A shifty looking woman walked in front of me and took her seat three down to my left. I pulled my small, worn carry-on closer to me.

In this weathered bag rested my only possessions in the world, save whatever came with the tiny apartment I’d purchased.

A Bible, more worn than the bag it lay in. It had been given to me years ago by my father. It was my only memory of him, as he’d died three years ago. Cancer. It was his love for cigarettes that did him in, in the end.

A small photo album, half full of pictures depicting a happy, smiling family. I barely recognized myself in them anymore.

Two pairs of pants- jeans and khakis. The khakis were for a job interview, if I could secure one.

Two shirts- a T-shirt and a polo.

I could buy more once I got there. Depending on the price of food.

That was it. All that I owned fit in this tiny bag. All that defined me, all that was left of the life I’d had before. I didn’t want to forget the good parts. Only the bad. That’s why I was leaving, after all. Right?

I watched closely as the lady behind the booth walked up to the intercom and called my zone to board.

I stood up, shaky from having missed breakfast and lunch today to compensate for the price of gas it would take to get here. I turned in my ticket and walked down the hallway to board the tiny, cheap plane, wary of anyone who came too close or looked too suspicious.

Nothing could ruin this now.

Nothing.

Suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder and I cursed myself, mentally reviewing every move I had made that might have led someone here after me. I’d done everything, everything to shake anyone off my trail, yet-

“Sir? Can you hear me? Sir I really need your help.”

The voice was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

I shook my head. Not everyone was after me, I realized. There were nice people too. But I couldn’t help anyone right now. I couldn’t even help myself.

“Sir, please,” the voice pleaded with me. I turned sharply, my eyes darting around for any stragglers who might serve as witnesses. Then they landed on the man. He was shorter than me, and bald. He looked foreign, and extremely wealthy, which made me hate him almost off the bat, then I chided myself and decided to give him a chance.

“What do you want?” I demanded rudely, anxious to get on my plane. The man seemed unfazed by my harsh tone of voice and proceeded to place a small, brown, paper package into my hands. He started hurriedly giving me instructions, his eyes flicking back and forth even more nervously than mine had been a few moments ago.

“I just need you to bring this on the plane. Hide it in your carry-on, they won’t suspect a thing. Once you get on the plane you’ll need to-”