Never before had a package felt... ominous.
It sat on the passenger seat in order to be returned to the depot as the destination address on it was just a bunch of random symbols, and there was no return address. What a waste of money for whoever sent the package.
Part of him wondered what was in it, of course. He wondered what was in every package he delivered. Sometimes it was obvious; clearly, the box saying "Air fryer" would have an air fryer in it. The box with a stamp on it with "fragile" would most likely contain something made out of glass, like a vase or a lamp. But more often than not, they were unmarked brown boxes with far too much tape on them and no clues as to what treasures or atrocities might be hidden inside.
The rumbling of his van halted as he parked up at his next stop.
Ah yes; Miss Caren. With a C.
The older lady was obsessed with one-day delivery and knew him by name by now. Seeing how he showed up to her door nearly every day, that was to be expected. He had a few customers like her, but luckily not too many on his particular route. Thank fuck for that.
Several large boxes and a slew of smaller ones were unloaded from the back of the van, loaded up on a dolly and carted to Miss Caren's door. He rang the doorbell and checked his watch. Nearly done, then he could head back to the depot, leave the mysterious package in the lost and found and go home.
Not that his empty apartment really was something to look forward to. But he got to sit down, do his own thing and rest from a hard day's work.
Before his thoughts could wander any more, the door opened and there was Miss Caren. She was a portly older lady with large round spectacles and a myriad of trinkets in her hair where it was pulled back and hung down in too many braids to count.
"Ah, Aaron! What a way to brighten up my day; a handsome hunk with a bunch of gifts I bought myself." Her high pitched, slightly grating voice was about as joyful to listen to as cats fighting late at night.
He grinned awkwardly at her compliments, nonetheless. While he wasn't ugly, he wouldn't exactly land on any front pages of model magazines. Aaron was a 23 year old delivery driver. While he wasn't muscular, he wasn't flabby either, having gained some lean muscle from lifting boxes all day every day. He was 5ft8 in height which was too short to even think about becoming a model, not that he wanted to. His blonde mop of hair and brown eyes did catch him a few lingering looks now and again but never enough to land himself a girlfriend, or maybe his shy nature drove them off.
"No problem, Miss Caren. I hope you have a nice day." He pulled out his work phone and took a picture of the selection of boxes now surrounding Miss Caren's feet which had been stuffed in gaudy purple slippers. Once done, he was on his way again, strange package in tow.
Unease gripped him as he got back on the road, this time in the direction of the depot. He knew it was stupid, but he felt...watched, almost. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end the entire time he was near the parcel beside him.
A bead of sweat gathered on his sideburn area, and dripped down his neck as his heart raced. Fear gripped him. He could almost feel a looming shadow closing in on him from his side, malevolent and primal.
He felt like a hunted animal, caught in a trap. His chest heaved as his breathing sped up to match his racing heartbeat. The darkness was closing in, shadows forming on just one side; the passenger seat where the innocuous package sat.
And then it was gone.
Everything was perfectly normal.
The van rolled to a stop in front of a stoplight and he struggled to calm himself down, shirt stuck to his back in cold sweat.
What the *hell* was that?!
He was going crazy.
Did he forget to eat?
Aaron's eyes flicked over to his lunch bag, deflated and empty. They turned to his water bottle next, mostly empty. He should be fine. Why was he acting crazy?
A mental breakdown was really something he couldn't afford at this point in his life. He was living pay check to pay check and couldn't be taking time off to go to a mental facility.
The light turned green and he drove on with a white-knuckled grip on the gearshift. It was fine, just some paranoia. Everyone got that once in a while.
A little anxiety!
Right?
Just some anxiety making him feel like there was a looming presence emanating from the package he was about to return to the depot's lost and found, there was nothing to worry about. His eyes flicked between the small box with the weird symbols for its address and the road as he drove onwards.
The van pulled into a parking lot, the cabin rattling as he came to a rough stop. The glint of a box knife shone in the evening sun as he tore into the package, cutting through the ridiculous amount of tape. He just had to know what was in it, he just had to see. It wouldn't harm anything, it would be taped up again with the packing tape he had on his dashboard and no one would be any the wise-
Ouch.
A bead of blood welled up from his thumb where it had been in the box-cutter's way. He brought it up to his mouth to suck on the wound as he looked within the box and cussed under his breath when a thick droplet of blood fell onto the object before he was able to quell the bleeding with his saliva.
Within the box - now with its tape covered flaps roughly opened - was...
A necklace.
It was a gaudy thing; big and round with seven jewels around the outside, each a different colour. In the middle was a piece of circular stained glass with a tree etched into it, which now had a droplet of his blood on it.
He wiped the surface with the hem of his shirt, then turned to hold it up to the light which made the glass reflect all the colours of the gems around the central piece of glass.
What a weird object. The jewels could be made of anything including plastic, but something inexplicable made him think they were real.
A ruby, pink quartz, amethyst, malachite, amber, black pearl and diamond. Those were what he guessed the seven gems were made out of. How he knew the names for these gems was beyond him. Maybe some information his witchy ex-girlfriend had left behind in his head one one of the occasions where she was raving about new crystals she had gotten.
Either way, it was far too gaudy and flashy for Aaron's tastes. He carefully placed it back into the packing peanut-filled box and stared at it for a moment.
