Wanted (Patreon)

I had planned to make one or two more rounds, but it was a slow night and there’s no money in waiting around for orders that didn’t came. This delivery was pushing the limits of our delivery range, the apartment was three flights up, no elevator, so I decided that this would be my last delivery for tonight. The fucker who put in this order better tip well.

Not likely given what a shitty building it is. Like one in three bulbs were burning and tags sharpied on the indoor walls. I press the buzzer next to the door. Almost immediately something moves behind the door, checking the peep hole no doubt. This is not a trusting neighborhood.

The door yanks fully open and I stare right into the six pack of a huge, muscular man. You see a lot of shit as a fast food delivery. I glance just to the side and see the gun. Less common, but it happens. We never carry much, and most robbers know it’s a waste of time.

“Any sound and you’re dead”

I move my eyes from the gun to the source of the deep voice. Shit. Way up, on the top of the massive, olive skinned, muscled body is a rough, bearded face. A face I’ve seen every day for a while, in the small gallery of wanted faces at the delivery waiting area at the pizzeria. Double-shit.

He takes a step to the side and makes a small shrug telling me to get in. Straight ahead in the small living room is a table with two chairs. I don’t dare turn my head in any direction, but in the corner of my eye I can see a small kitchen area to my left, and two doors to my right. The window straight ahead faces the brick wall of the building a few feet away. I hear the door close and lock behind me.

“Put the pizza on the table and sit down.”

I can’t for the life of me remember why his face was up on the wanted wall, or how long. I place the pizza box on the table. The rest of the room is a mess with clothes, empty boxes and trash strewed around, but the table is empty except for a few items placed in a row. A glass, a bottle of Everclear and three pill packages. Viagra, Zalpidem and a prescription bottle I can’t see the text on. Everything you need for a date rape.

The man slowly walks around the table towards the other chair. He’s easily 6'5 and definitely the most muscled body I’ve seen in person. He’s only wearing grey sweat pants, a kind-of white wife beater, and he reeks strongly of stale sweat as he pass me by. He keep looking at me as he rounds the table. Really looking.

“Do you have a wallet with drivers license?”
“Yes.”
“You drove here in a car?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“Parked curbside across the street”

He sits down in front of me. I keep my eyes down, looking at the table and his chest. I have never seen such large whatever the muscles on each side of the neck is called. “This better fucking work” he says and fills the glass with Everclear. He picks one pill out of every package, throws them into his mouth, and chase it with the full glass of alcohol. What the hell is he doing?

He stands up again, walks behind me and puts his right arm around my neck. I can smell his sweaty stink and his breath of pure alcohol. The upper part of his arm is on the right side of my neck and the lower part on the left, like a V. He smells so bad. He puts his left arm behind me somewhere, and squeezes. Everything goes black.

I’m very confused. I have no idea what I’m looking at at first. It’s the table and the chairs, but the angle is all wrong. It takes a second to click that I’m looking at it from the floor, from a distance. I’m lying on a mattress on the floor in the adjacent room, I realize. When I try to move I feel slow. My head is dizzy. I look down at my body and see massive pecs, rippling abs, grey sweat pants containing a large boner, and below, a pair of big feet.

No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening. I can’t be him.

I carefully get up. Not only is the body alien to me, but I’m wobbly and unsteady. Of course, the alcohol and the pills. I see the pizza box and the Everclear still on the table, but none of the pills. I steady myself with one hand on the wall and slowly make myself to one of the chairs and plop me down. I don’t know what time it is, but despite the oppressively close brick wall outside the window, I can see daylight. I’d easily been out for six hours, probably more.

Just getting from the mattress to the chair was exhausting. I look at my arms. My thick, veiny arms. I just don’t want to believe that they are my arms. Well, they are not, but they move as I want them to move. How can this be happening? Is it science or magic? I realize I first need to understand what has happened. I go through my memories, what I did earlier today, where I go to school, what the password for my porn stash is. All there. I try to think of something he, the body, would know. My eyes darts around the room. I have no recollection of anything I see.

The pizza is still in the box, but cold. I realize that I am hungry. Hungry, exhausted, drunk and incredibly horny. He really had planned this out to make me stay in the apartment as long as possible, shy of tying me up.

“Fuck!” I say out loud with a deep, unfamiliar voice.

If he intended to come back, if he intended to switch back bodies, he would have tied me up. 

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