Unknown Number Calling
Just as quickly as you glance at the phone screen, you ignore the call. There's never a real person on the other end those calls anyways. After you place your phone back in your pocket, you continue with grocery shopping.
While browsing the produce section, the phone buzzes again with an incoming call. Unknown number, again. This time, you figure there must be a person if they are call again. So, you answer with only the intent to ask to be removed from whatever list you are on.
"Hello?"
As you originally expected, an automated voice responds.
"Thank you for participating. The rules are simple. Complete at least two of the three tasks provided, you will qualify for the grand prize. Failure will have consequences equal to the complexity of the task you are given. Your first task will be sent to you by text in two minutes. Best of luck candidate!"
The call ends before you have a chance to respond. Obviously, it's a group of teenagers in the store with you playing an elaborate prank using AI or an app. You scan the area searching for snickering teens in a corner with their phones out. However, the only people around you are the handful of customers shopping for groceries just like yourself. The phone buzzes once again in your hand. This time with a text.
Task number one. Steal the wallet from the woman browsing the apples.
Curious, you glance over at the shelves containing the different varieties of apples displayed. Carefully viewing a red apple was a small elderly woman. She was seated in one of the electric shopping carts provided by the store for patrons who are less mobile. Right on top of her items sat her wallet. Stealing it would be easy. She's so invested into the apples you could be on the other side of the store before she is even aware it's gone.
Shameful at yourself for even entertaining the idea, you delete the text and shove your phone back in your pocket. You brush off the whole thing as a practical joke and carry on with your shopping.
A familiar buzz catches your attention as you are walking by the meat and deli counter. Annoyed now, you pick up the phone without checking the caller ID.
"Whoever this is, I am so not in the mood for your games. I am especially not committing any crimes. Leave me alone!" Then, you disconnect the call.
The phone rings again while it was still in your hand. It feels like the world around you stops as you glance at the caller ID, Grandma. Your chest aches in despair. Grandma died just two weeks ago, and you haven't had the heart to delete her number yet. She was more like a mother to you than a grandmother, raising you since you were just a baby. Mom and Dad passed away when you were a baby and she was the only family you had. With shaky hands, you answer the call.
Wailing pierces your ears through static on the other end. It sounds like your grandmother on the night Grandpa died just month prior to her death. They were high school sweethearts, and his death broke her heart. It was hard to hear her hurt like that. A tear rolls down your cheek as you stand frozen in place in the middle of the isle. Listening. The wailing fades and a familiar automated voice cuts through the static.
"Participation is mandatory. Failure to comply will result in termination."
A response manages to quietly choke out of your throat, "You are threatening to kill me if I don't play into your games? What kind of sick shit is this?"
"This is not a game. You failed to complete the first task. Your punishment will be delivered shortly." The line cut out immediately.
Still in shock from hearing the sound of your dead grandmother's voice, you almost miss the sound of running footsteps behind you. As you turn to look, a man suddenly tackles you to the ground. Everything from your pockets spill out on the floor, and your phone slides under the nearest shelf. You scream for help at the top of your lungs as the man grabs one of the items from your pockets: your wallet. He is already reaching the emergency exit by the time someone helps you to your feet.
An employee hands you a courtesy water as he spoke to the police on his phone. Shakily, you walk around searching for your own phone. Its loud vibration under the shelf helps you locate it. Unknown Caller is displayed on the screen as you answer.
"You will receive the second task by text in two minutes. Friendly reminder: complete the task or suffer the consequences. Best of luck candidate." More tears begin rolling down your cheeks as you move the phone away from your ears.
As promised, your second task is received by text.
Your second task will need to be completed within the next ten minutes. Order a ribeye from the butcher at the meat counter, and eat the whole thing in front of him. Vomiting will result in a failure. Time starts when you finish reading this text.
Did the caller know you have been a devout vegan for the past ten years? It's not necessarily private information, but this would mean they know more about you than you know about them. This small fact made you feel uneasy.
Nausea creeps its way into your stomach as you gaze upon the animal carcasses laid out in trays at the meat counter. It felt impossible enough to try to consume cooked meat, but the idea of raw meat was unfathomable. You decided you would at least try. With bile threatening to escape through your throat, you nervously approach the meat counter.
The butcher greets you with a smile, "What can I get ya, little lady?"
"Umm, a ribeye please. The smallest you have," the caller never specified it had to be a certain size. Might as well make it as easy as possible.
"Sure thing! It's on the house today. I saw that creep steal your wallet just a moment ago. Hopefully, this will make your day a little brighter."
You wished that was true. After weighing the ribeye, the butcher carefully wraps the steak and hands it over. There's an awkward moment of silence between you as your eyes are fixated on the meat in your hands. He's about to inquire if you were okay before you suddenly begin unraveling the packaging of the ribeye and hold it in your bare hands. You take a deep breath, close your eyes, and take your first bite.
Confusion and mild disgust settle on the butcher's face as he watches you bite into the raw steak. The texture is easier to chew than you imagined it would be. The red myoglobin mixture squeezes from the steak and onto your tongue with every bite. You keep the chewing to a minimum as the urge to vomit intensifies. After three more bites, you are both devastated and relieved when your stomach wins the battle. There's no time to reach a trashcan, nor did you think there was any nearby. The butcher watches in horror as the contents of your stomach are emptied onto the floor.
"Lady, I know you had a scary experience, but this is too much. You need to go."
Embarrassed at the scene you created, you hurry off to the front of the store. As you exit the sliding glass doors, your phone rings.
"You have failed your second task. By failing two of the three tasks, you are automatically disqualified. The final punishment will be delivered by text once this call is disconnected. Thank you again for participating. We hope this has been an experience you will never forget. Goodbye."
Dumbfounded, you stare at your phone until the awaited text arrives.
You have 30 seconds to choose one of two options for your punishment. Throw yourself in front of the approaching garbage truck, or choose another. Time starts now.
Panic sets in as you hear the sound of a garbage truck off to your left. It is approaching at a fast speed. The driver is also distracted and not paying attention to any pedestrians in the parking lot. When you glance to your right, the elderly woman riding in the electric shopping cart from the produce section is exiting the building at the same time. Without time to think, you quickly grab the delicate woman and drag her from the cart. She yells out for help and struggles in your grasp, but you are much stronger and nobody nearby will get to you in time to rescue her.
Right as the garbage truck reaches the front of the store, you manage to shove her just in time for her to fall right in its path. Her screams of pain and crunching of bones are too much and too loud. Desperately, you cover your ears to dull the sound. The truck finally stops and her screams are replaced by the sound of sirens. You hear the officers rushing over to the operator of the garbage truck.
Just as the driver points in your direction, you feel the ground below you rumble. The cement begins to chip and crack under your feet. A reddish orange glow peeking through. Fear keeps you frozen in place as clawed hands reach through the cracks and grasp your ankles. One last scream escapes as you are pulled through.
Never to be seen again.