3 True Terrifying Delivery Horror Stories Animated

This happened to me 3 months ago and I

can't stop thinking about it. I'm a

college sophomore and for about a year I

was working as a delivery driver for a

popular local restaurant.

For the most part, the delivery

locations were not far from the city.

But then at 11 p.m. on a random

Thursday, I got an order for two plain

cheeseburgers with fries and a Coke with

instructions to hand it to the customer.

Not a super unusual order until I

checked the location and found that it

was in the middle of nowhere. I didn't

really have an option to decline the

order, though, so I got the bag and

headed out.

As I got closer, an eerie feeling

started to set in. The road became

narrow and winding, and I hadn't seen

anything, not even a gas station, in

miles. When I finally reached the

destination, I met an even more

unsettling sight.

The house I parked in front of seemed

vacant, abandoned for years. It looked

like it was turning black from some kind

of soot, and there wasn't a single light

on inside. I was sure I was being

pranked by some stupid kids, which had

happened before. However, I decided to

do my due diligence and try my best to

complete the delivery. I got out of my

car with the bag, walked up onto the

porch, and rang the doorbell. I was

surprised it even still worked.

The button had a weight to it and felt

very mechanical. And the sound of it was

like actual large bronze bells tolling

from inside.

I don't know why, but it gave me chills.

A minute went by, but nobody came to the

door. I knocked for good measure, but

still, it seemed clear that the house

was empty. I gave up and started walking

back to my car. Almost as soon as I

turned away, though, I got the sudden

feeling that I was being watched.

I tried to ignore it, but about halfway

there, I couldn't resist the urge to

look back, I almost couldn't believe my

eyes when I saw the shadow of someone in

the attic window, casting the drapes

from a dim light that wasn't there

before. It was literally like when

someone in a horror movie sees a ghost

inside a window for a split second, but

when I blinked, it was still there.

The drapes parted, revealing a

middle-aged man. Then, just as quickly

as he appeared, he left the window. I

assumed he was going down to the door,

but I didn't move to meet him just yet

and kept my distance. A few moments

later, the door opened and inside stood

the same man from the window.

Again, backlit from a puny incandescent

light bulb hanging from a chain,

one that I knew had not been on just a

minute ago.

I still did not walk toward the house.

There was a palpable stench pouring out

of the open door, an odor I'd never

smelled before in my life.

Instead, I tried confirming the order

from where I stood. I said the name on

the ticket as well as the contents,

asking if it was him.

He nodded slowly and said the exact

words that still haunt me.

Come closer. I want to eat.

I literally could not move. I wanted to

drop the food on the ground and run back

to my car, but this man's gaze was like

a tractor beam trying to pull me into

the house. After a moment of terrifying

silence, the man said, "Fine, I'll come

to you." He then stepped down from the

porch and began walking toward me,

gradually entering the cone of my car

headlights, which I left on. The

brighter the lights got on him, the more

details I could see.

and they rapidly stacked on top of each

other. His clothes were ragged and torn

and soaked in multiple layers of stains.

The seemingly oldest ones were gray, but

as they became fresher, they turned

brown. Then finally, a dark red blood as

if it couldn't get any worse. His gate

was imbalanced, like he was holding

something close to his hips with one

hand. Finally, when he was about 10 ft

from me, I snapped out of it. I threw

the bag at him, then turned and sprinted

back to my car. I got in faster than I

ever had, slamming the door and locking

it in one motion.

The next thing I saw was a knife in my

face. I screamed as it thrusted at me,

but then it struck the glass. I was so

scared. I thought it had somehow phased

through the window.

I collected myself, then grabbed my keys

out of my pocket, shoving them into the

ignition with shaking hands. At the same

moment that I turned the keys and I

heard the engine roar to life. I heard a

loud pop and hissing from outside the

car. The man was leaning over, grinning

at me, and I realized he had just

slashed my tire. Before things could get

any worse, I floored it. I nearly

crashed into the house before I got

control and circled around it. Then I

raced down the driveway and back onto

the road. I didn't care that I was

driving on a flat. I drove about 5 miles

before I finally found a gas station

where I parked and told the clerk what

my situation was. I didn't have a spare,

so he helped me call a tow truck who

took my car to a shop that was closed

until the morning, then was nice enough

to drop me off at my work. I explained

everything that happened to my boss who

called the cops saying I should have

done so a long time ago. He was right,

but I was so shaken that I never thought

to.

The cops got my story, then went to

investigate the house. According to the

call I got a couple weeks later. They

found nothing there. The investigation

is still ongoing, but it's pretty clear

that Siko in the house had his victim

captive and tortured him for a long time

before finally killing him. Every time I

think about this, I can't stop thinking

about how close I came to becoming that

monster's next victim.

I'm a delivery guy, but not a pizza

delivery guy. I'm a long haul trucker

delivering all manner of things. Usually

washing machines or games consoles or

fridges. Things you'd think are safe to

transport, but you'd be surprised what

people will heist. Now, true story. A

truck carrying the entire US shipment of

the killing joke action figures got

robbed at gunpoint recently. Google it

if you don't believe me. Anyway, when

this went down, I was in a cross-country

hall to Albany from Dallas. I'm legally

not allowed to say what exactly I was

carrying, but let's just say it was very

expensive, very desirable equipment of

the medical variety. The kind of cargo

that would make me a bit more jumpy than

microwave ovens or custom kitchen

deliveries. If you get that reference,

congrats. You're an old man like I am.

The journey was said to be just over 24

hours, which meant that there was a rest

stop and a few hours sleep on my

itinerary.

I timed things so I'd get to stop at one

of my favorite rest stops in Kentucky at

around midnight. They had a killer

24-hour diner there, and some other

truckers I'd become familiar with over

time often stop there, too, so we'd meet

up and shoot the breeze.

Imagine my disappointment when I pulled

into the truck stop only to discover

that the diner was closed for

refurbishments, and the only other

vehicle in the lot was a beat up old

Range Rover that looked like it had been

abandoned there months ago.

Nobody was answering the CB radio

either. Just a completely dead night. Oh

well, I thought it happens. I always

planned for such eventualities, and I'd

packed a bunch of healthy, well-rounded

meal options such as slim gyms,

Twinkies, Cheetos, and Mountain Dew. You

know, all that good stuff that helps

keep my truckerbod slim and spelt. I

chowed down on some dried meats,

mainlined a Twinkie or four, and

listened to a couple of CDs and then

decided to catch a few hours sleep

before continuing on. Normally on the

road, I sleep like a baby. I just slip

into the passenger seat, recline it a

little, and I'm out like a shot.

That night, though, no dice. Something

felt off. Maybe it was the diner with

all the lights off. Maybe it was the

empty truck stop lot. Maybe it was the

flickering street lamp near the turnoff.

Now, I'm not a superstitious man. I

can't explain it. I just had a bad

feeling. Real bad. Like something about

the whole place was wrong. Now, let me

stress this here. I'd been to this truck

stop at least a dozen times in the past.

It was a favorite, but it was usually a

hub of activity, even in the middle of

the night. Being here alone felt like

I'd crossed some kind of portal, like I

was in another world.

I really am not the kind of guy who

falls into this type of thinking though.

I promise. I love horror movies

precisely cuz they don't scare me. Yeah,

I get a little paranoid about my cargo

getting robbed very occasionally. And I

guess that played into it here. But this

was something else, man. It sounds like

a cliche, but it was like an ill wind

was blowing. And I mean that

figuratively and literally. It had been

a calm night, but as soon as I parked,

the wind kicked up. dust and leaves and

debris billowing up around the parking

lot. Then there was the abandoned Range

Rover. I could swear the windows had

been busted out. Was it burned up? I

couldn't tell. And then a voice in the

back of my head was telling me to go

check it out. I had my trusty sidekick,

Kirsty. Kirsty's my shotgun. Don't go

anywhere without her. If I'm not

supposed to have her, then I have a

hiding place. And well, I'm not going to

implicate myself, but she stays with me

at all times in the truck. The idea of

walking over to this abandoned car,

though, just gave me the full-on

unfiltered heebie-jebies. And the more I

thought about it, the more it started

bothering me. My mind started drifting

towards various possibilities. And then

it started drifting in general until

suddenly I was falling asleep. I was

nodding off into dreamland. I was at

that moment I heard a knock knock knock

and holy freaking Christmas I jolted

awake. Was I dreaming? Knock knock knock

again. A little quieter this time, but

someone was tapping on the driver's side

window. And as I mentioned, I sleep in

the passenger seat, and with the truck

cab light off, I couldn't really see who

was knocking. I could just see the vague

shape of a human. I flicked the interior

light on, which made it even harder to

see who was out there, and I gestured

for them to come around to the passenger

side, hoping they get the hint. And then

it was like they just disappeared, like

they ducked down out of view. What the

hell? I shut off the interior light. A

minute had passed and then two, and I

was starting to think that I'd imagined

it and I'd still been dreaming. Knock

knock knock again harder. This time

right next to me, the passenger side

window. And I jumped up. Okay, this

wasn't cool. I grabbed my flashlight

from the glove compartment and shown it

at the visitor.

He was dressed in a pizza delivery

outfit, a very well-known brand. He had

the jacket and he had the cap brim

pulled down low over his face. He didn't

seem bothered by the flashlight shining

right in his face, but I angled it away

regardless and then, against my better

judgment, wound down the window.

"Can I help you, buddy?" I asked. The

pizza delivery guy seemed to grin at me.

I got the pizza you ordered, my friend.

He said, "I had not ordered a pizza. I

was in the middle of an abandoned truck

stop. My phone didn't have reception.

The only way I could have ordered pizza

was over the CB radio, and well,

obviously, I hadn't." I explained this

to him, and not once did this guy's grin

falter. I could barely see him in the

darkness, but his smile was like this

bright white catching the light

reflecting off of it.

The pizza delivery guy reeled off some

real name and said that no, definitely

the pizza was mine and I'd ordered it. I

reiterated that I had not and I didn't

want pizza. In truth, I did absolutely,

but I wasn't accepting a strange pizza

from a strange grinning guy.

Now, I shown that flashlight at him

again, and that's when I noticed the

absolute state of his uniform. If this

guy was a Domino's employee, then his

uniform had not been replaced since

probably the '9s. It was torn. It was

filthy. His cap was ripped with bits of

hair sticking through places, and the

logo was partially unstitched.

"Buddy, just move along," I said. "I

don't want your pizza."

He told me he couldn't do that, that I

had paid for the pizza, and he'd be in a

lot of trouble if I didn't accept the

food I'd paid for.

I reached for Kirsty. Usually, Kirsty's

appearance causes even the most

aggressive weirdo to back down. Not this

guy. I still couldn't see his eyes, but

his smile grew wider, almost admiring.

He held up the pizza box. "You really

don't want this pizza?" he said. and my

stomach growled.

And that's when he tilted his head back

and I saw his eyes, or more accurately,

his eye. His left eye was bloodshot,

wide, and staring. And his right eye was

just missing. It was covered not by an

eye patch, but gauze.

And for a moment, he stopped smiling.

And somehow that was a relief. And then

I cocked Kirsty.

Listen, buddy. I'm going to drive off

now. I suggest you step back, I said. No

way was I staying here any longer. I'd

find somewhere else down the line to

rest. No.

His sudden yell made me jump, and I

cursed myself for being fearful. The

smile didn't leave his face, though, but

his eye looked almost sad.

It's your pizza. You have to take the

pizza.

I'm going to put it on the ground and

leave and then you can get it.

And with that, the pizza guy in the

filthy uniformed walked straight

backwards, placed the pizza on the

ground, and then continued to walk

backwards towards that Range Rover,

never once taking his eyes off me.

Finally, when he was far enough away, he

did turn and got in the car. I heard the

engine start and he drove off. And sure

enough, in the glare from his vehicle's

headlights, I could see that all the

windows had been smashed.

I know I should have just driven off,

but I was curious. Clutching my shotgun,

I climbed out the truck and walked over

to the pizza. I picked it up, opened the

box, and reared back.

There was a pizza inside, but it was

clearly about a week old. It was moldy,

rancid, wreking. Maggots crawled all

over the surface and I recoiled and

tossed it across the lot.

Then something occurred to me. I went to

the back of the truck to check the

doors. Had I been robbed or scammed

somehow?

No. The truck was still locked up tight,

but scratched into the paint were two

words.

Don't eat.

I hopped into the driver's seat and

hight tailed it out of there. I didn't

stop until I reached Albany. Kirsty did

not leave the seat next to me for that

entire trip, and I have no explanation

as to what happened. Now, I don't

believe in anything supernatural, and

the man clearly was flesh and blood. I'm

pretty sure it was just a couple of

tweakers who wanted to put the spooks up

some hless trucker, maybe rob them. And

if that was their plan, it worked. While

it scared the crap out of me, it has

given me an excellent story to tell over

the CB radio over the years. However, on

the downside, I've never been able to

look at pizza the same way again.

So, no need for a preamble or anything.

Just know that when this played out, it

was the early 2000s and I was a

20-year-old woman working a pizza

delivery job to help pay my way through

college.

I was based in a city, so we had so many

different customers, it was hard to keep

track of regulars. One regular order I

did remember though was this really

sweet old couple who lived in a small

suburban bungalow. They usually just

ordered a pizza and some other stuff on

a Friday night. So, I was a little

surprised when one day we got an order

to their address for like eight huge

pizzas. So, we get everything cooked and

I take the delivery because I love this

old couple and we usually chatted for a

few minutes and the tip was a nice

bonus, too. So, I get to the house and

even before I knock on the door,

something seems wrong. Loud pumping

techno is coming from what seems to be

the basement. I knock and the door gets

opened. I'm not 100% sure, but I am

99.9% sure that the person who opened

the door wasn't either of the old

people. In fact, this person was dressed

in a black and white wolf fur suit. And

I guess he was non-verbal because he

gestured to the pizzas, pulled out his

pocket to show it was empty, and then

did a sort of fake crying gesture before

pointing for me to come inside.

Now, going inside a customer's house is

usually a huge no no, but I normally

would drop in on this couple, and I was

concerned about them, as well as being

morbidly curious.

I move to follow the fursuit wolf into

the house. And as he turns around, I

realize, "Oh, it's one of those

furries." I can tell because, well, his

fursuit includes assless chaps. And I

tried to avert my eyes and made the

stupid mistake of stepping over the

threshold of the house and the front

door clicked shut behind me. I turned to

see a motheaten looking bear standing

there. And I swear to God, you know that

creepy [ __ ] bear from The Shining.

This guy made that character look like

Yogi. The way I can describe this

persona was a bear wolf. I just wanted

to know what happened to my old couple.

So, I took the pizzas through the

kitchen and put them down on the counter

and told old assless chaps wolf in no

uncertain terms that I needed payment.

And also, I'd really appreciate knowing

where Mr. and Mrs. Smith were. The wolf

and the bear both mimed laughter as if

this was the funniest thing they'd ever

heard. Now, I know, I know. Please don't

scream at me for this next bit. They

gestured toward the basement where the

techno music was coming from, and

against everything I've ever learned

from every horror movie and listening to

Let's Read, I followed them. and Christ

almighty. There was every kind of animal

thing you can imagine. An owl dressed in

leather bondage, a unicorn showing off

almost everything. Cartoon cats and

diapers. And at the center of everything

was a man wearing a bat mask in a cape.

And I know that he was a man because

that's all he was wearing.

And there was my beloved old couple

sitting on a couch looking absolutely

terrified.

Are you guys okay? I asked them. Mr.

Smith looked at me and Mrs. Smith looked

like she was about to burst into tears.

Our grandson came to visit, she said,

gesturing to the passless chaps

werewolf.

And he brought some friends, Mr. Smith

said.

I had no idea what to do. The fries

hadn't done anything directly

threatening, but I still felt unsafe and

uncomfortable. And clearly so did this

older couple. That's when I saw the

table set up in the corner with what was

very obviously a makeshift meth

production lab. And from the looks of

it, and the haphazard way these fursuitw

wearing freaks were tossing around

chemicals, this was unsafe enough to

take action.

Now I hurried over to the old couple

saying, "Come on, we're leaving." And

they both got up. We made it to the

basement stairs and up the hallway. We

were nearly home free. And then the bear

reared its ugly head and Mrs. Smith

began to cry. Then from downstairs, a

low but audible explosion.

Suddenly, furries were streaming out of

the basement, coughing, screaming,

yelling. The naked Batman came barreling

past us, swinging free in the open air

as he dived out the front door.

The grandson, the assless chaps wolf,

literally shoved his grandmother out of

the way to get to safety. I caught her

dragging both her and Mr. Smith out into

the lawn. We took in the fresh air just

in time for another explosion to rock

the house. Flames began to spread from

the basement into the hallway. Furries

were fleeing left and right. Mrs. Smith

continued to cry. Mrs. Smith just stood

there shaking his head. and the grandson

leaped into a car with that bear and the

pair of them took off.

Soon nearly all the furries were gone.

The only one who remained was the naked

manbat. And I'm so grateful that he did

because he testified as to exactly what

happened, even if it meant outing his

double life as a lawyer with a fetish

bat persona. Props to him. Not all

heroes wear capes, although this one

did, and only a cape.

I did stop delivering to that old

couple, though. Things just felt

different after that. And and while the

story may seem borderline comedic, it

was genuinely one of the most terrifying

moments of my life. Barely making it out

in time.