It was a long night, I was working late as hell and my boss said, “You are working late tonight. Get to it.” When my boss turned around to get back to his work, I gestured a middle finger at his bald-a*s.
I am starting to get really tired, I should make some coffee. S**t, the coffee machine doesn’t work. Well, back to the old grind.
My boss left me to do part of his s**t and I have my s**t to do.
I looked through my Instagram feed for a couple minutes to have a username “dont.worry_you.are.safe” pop up in my follow requests. I thought to myself, “The f**k? Is this some kind of weird bot?” I accepted it without even thinking.
My phone just buzzed, it was the same account. It said in a strange red text, “YOU ARE SAFE NOW.” Keep in mind, Instagram doesn’t let you have red text. I replied, “Who the f**k is this?!” The person/bot said, “Chris, Chris the Smiling Man.” I turned my phone off so I didn’t deal with more s**t.
I fell asleep, my boss came back and woke me up. He forgot something like the dumbass he is. “Wake up! No sleeping or you are fired!” I then said, “Shut the hell up, please. My head hurts.” My boss said, “Well, get some sleep when you’re at home, not working shifts.” He left with his magazine that looked like a P*****y magazine. “What a weird f**k!” I said to myself.
“Finally! My shift is done! Now I can go back home!” I said to myself. My phone buzzed. Startled, I said, “Oh-, Jesus Christ.” It was the person who texted me on Instagram. He said something that chilled me to the bone, “I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE, JACKSON.” What the f**k! How does he know where live? “Jokes on you, my name isn’t Jackson, it’s Nick.” My boss’ name was Nick. He said, “You are wearing that blue tie you always wear to work.” I said, “But I work nights at a s****y gas station in the middle of nowhere in Arizona.” Little did they know, I actually live in California. But then he said, “You live in California, how could you lie to me, Jackie?” I hated being called Jackie. I hate this guy even more for texting me and calling me Jackie. “Goodbye,” I told Chris.
I am home, I can finally sleep after one hour of driving. This may sound cliche, but I swear I heard someone IN my house. I called the police and the operator said they will be there in 15-30 minutes. The burglar then suddenly ran up the stairs like a charging bull. Scared for my life, I ran into my closet. The burglar busted through my door and said, “I know where you are Jackson!” I was breathing so damn loud, a near-deaf person could hear me. The burglar said, “Your IP address led me here, Jack.” I was like, “S**t, I don’t have a VPN.” He walked around my room for a bit. But then he stopped at my closet door and I could smell a dead dog mixed with skunk. I almost puked at the smell. Blood was getting onto my hands and I was so damn disgusted. “Jaaack! Jaaaaaack!” The burglar chanted. “It’s Chris, the Smiling Man.” No, how? How could he find me? Oh right, my s****y IP address. He yanked my closet door open and he had the most terrifying, disgusting, disturbing smile clear on his face. He then said to me, “MAKE SURE TO TELL CARLA, YOUR WIFE, THAT I SAID ‘THANKS FOR THE MEAL LAST NIGHT’.”
Police finally arrived at 4:30:12 that night. Publisher found dead.