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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Justhegirlnextdoor on 2023-07-06 13:29:36+00:00.
The first time I saw those words, my day started off like any other.
I went to work at my monotonously, mind numbingly boring desk job, clacked on the keyboard for eight hours and had the same bland ham and cheese sandwich for lunch.
As I sat in the break room, halfway through my sandwich, I opened the dating app I’d downloaded only recently. I was a fairly good looking guy, so I’d gotten plenty of matches and been on countless dates, but none of the women were really what I was searching for.
Somewhere between shoving the last piece of my sandwich into my mouth and deciding whether or not to delete the app, my phone pinged with a match - Guinevere Motley. Curiosity got the best of me as I clicked on the notification and read her message.
“Whatever you do… Don’t read this.”
That was a strange way to get my attention… Usually they sent a pick up line or something funny.
Tapping on her picture, I noticed that there was only one, but geez was she stunning. Long, brunette curls cascaded over her shoulders and toppled down her back, and thick, dark lashes adorned seafoam green irises. My eyes trailed down the picture as I took in mile long legs and tasteful curves. The little white sundress she was wearing looked like it was made just for her. Heck, this woman was a bombshell.
When I went back to the message though, I realized that it had been deleted. Looking up at the clock, I noticed that I had about 5 minutes till my lunch break was over. With one more glance at her profile, I shrugged and deleted the app. She was probably a bot or a scammer anyway.
That night, I did the usual. Ran to the gym and worked out for about an hour and a half, picked up some tacos from my favorite food truck and sat down to watch an episode of Black Mirror. Everything was normal.
That was until about a couple of months later. By that time, I’d forgotten all about Guinevere’s cryptic message. Let me start off by saying that my morning did play out as it normally would have. I slept in until 10 AM, and then I spent the next hour out in the front yard mowing the lawn.
It was a particularly hot day, my plain white t-shirt soaked through with sweat. Tugging it off, I set it on the front porch before edging the lawn. By the time I got done, my hair was drenched and my shoulders were burned red. When everything was put back in my shed though, I couldn’t help but feel a bit accomplished. Besides Mr. Kelman’s house next door, I had one of the nicest yards on the block.
I noticed the door of my mailbox hanging open, and I trudged over there to check the mail before shutting it closed. On the way up my driveway, I flicked through the envelopes with uninterested fingers. Water bill, phone bill, bank statement, junk mail, advertisement, Arby’s coupons and then… I paused.
My fingers quickly came to standstill when they landed on a plain, black envelope. Instantly, my interest was piqued. Turning it over, I saw that it was sealed with crimson colored wax. Now I was really invested. Who even sends letters like this anymore?
I slid my thumb under the seal, ripped open the envelope without a second thought, and tugged out the note inside. Thick, dark ink was scrawled across it and I took no time in reading it.
Let me guess…
Despite my warning, you’ve decided to read this. I told you not to, but now it’s too late. By the time you’ve made it to this point, there’s little chance of turning back. The second your eyes landed on these words, you just couldn’t help yourself. I guess I shouldn’t blame you. I couldn’t stop myself either. The curiosity was simply too much to handle. So, let me at least tell you what you’re in for. I’m going to warn you right now… It’s not going to be pleasant, but you did this to yourself. Remember that.
Pausing for a moment, confusion bubbled from within me at the words. What warning? Flipping the paper over, I didn’t see any writing on the other side. That was until I glanced at the back of the envelope. I could have sworn that this writing wasn’t here before? Surely I would have noticed it.
In huge, red letters the words, “Whatever you do… Don’t read this,” stared back at me. What kind of sick joke was this? With a quick glance around my neighborhood, I wondered if anyone had even seen who delivered the letter.
My interest only grew when I realized that there was no return address. Heck, my name or address wasn’t written on the envelope either. Perhaps this was meant for someone else? Surely, if it was for me, they would have addressed it to me. Brushing it off, I ripped it to shreds and tossed it in the garbage.
Right about that time, I noticed Ms. Brookfield on her front porch looking over. A smile stretched across her face as she raised her hand to wave at me. Offering a wave of my own, I suddenly got an idea. She was a nosy old bat, and she always seemed to sit out on her porch on mowing days, but in this instance, it might prove to be helpful. Maybe she had seen who delivered the strange letter.
Sauntering across the street, I walked up the steps to her front porch and offered her a smile.
“Hey Ms. Brookfield, how are you doing?”
A shiver raced over me as I watched her pale, blue eyes slide up and down my shirtless chest before speaking, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.
“A lot better since you got here.” A vulgar little chuckle escaped her brightly painted lips as she finally met my eyes. “I might be past my prime but, I’ve got the most beautiful little granddaughter that might -”
“Ms. Brookfield,” I started, cutting her off. “I apologize for interrupting, but the reason I really came over here is because I received a strange letter in my mailbox.”
One silver brow raised as she waited for me to continue.
“I guess I was wondering if you had seen anyone deliver it?”
“You mean the mailman?” she fired back, sarcasm melting into her words as she fanned herself.
“No, not the mailman.” I laughed a little awkwardly before saying, “I think this letter was hand delivered.”
With a shake of her head, she stood and walked over to her front door. Pulling open the screen door, she threw me one more glance.
“I see almost everything that goes on in this neighborhood, and I can assure you that the only person I noticed stopping at your mailbox was the mailman.”
“Okay,” I started. “Thank you, I-”
Slamming her screen door shut, she left before I could even finish my sentence. I guess since the “show” was over, she didn’t want anything else to do with me.
I shuffled a bit in place then shoved my hands into my pockets before scampering across the street and back onto my property. Nasty old woman wasn’t helpful at all. With a quiet scoff, I threw open my own front door and strolled inside, making a mental note to keep my shirt on the next time I mowed my yard.
Sunday was uneventful, and the strange letter was honestly the last thing on my mind. I had a spreadsheet I needed to get done for work, and I had to present it at 8 AM the next morning. My day flew by almost as fast as my fingers flew across my keyboard. If this presentation went well, I was sure it would end in a promotion and a raise.
Monday morning I woke up and was running a bit late. Luckily, I pressed and starched everything the night prior. Rolling up the sleeves of my crisp, white button down, I quickly threw on a tie, stepped into a pair of black slacks and slid into some shiny black loafers. With a glance in the mirror, I carded a hand through my still damp hair before deciding to add a bit of gel, hoping it would stay in place long enough to survive the meeting.
Everything that could have gone wrong that morning did. Throwing my car in reverse, I peeled out of my neighborhood and onto the freeway. Two people pulled out in front of me, I had to swerve when a chair came toppling out of an overly packed pickup truck and then to top it all off, I managed to get stuck in a traffic jam that was moving at a snail’s pace. The time was ticking by, and as each minute passed, I was getting more irritated. My boss wasn’t a man who would accept any kind of silly excuse, so in fifteen more minutes I was as good as dead.
Trying to calm myself down, I switched through the radio stations but, strangely, all of them were static filled… Except for one. My fingers froze on the knob as a strange feeling of dread washed over me, the voice coming through the radio cutting through all of the noise outside.
“Ryan…” The voice, a sort of breathy whine, crackled over the sound system in my car as it whispered. “You read it, didn’t you?”
A mixture of confusion and indescribable fear began to blossom deep within me as I stared at the screen. Looking at the radio station, my eyes widened as I saw the station number: 66.6 glared back at me. What the actual-
“Ryan.” Repeating my name again, the voice wavered a bit before a hissing sound filled the car. It was so ear splittingly loud that I clenched my eyes shut and attempted to block out the noise with my hands.
When I finally pulled them away from my ears, the hissing sound dropped to a low buzz and something warm dripped from my ear, pattering onto my dress pants in slow, steady drops. Running a finger over it, I quietly panicked when red stained the pad of my fingertip.
With shaky hands, I reached into my glove department for a napkin and cleaned myself up the best I could.
By the time I glanced up at the clock, traffic was still at a standstill and I half e…
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