This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/SalamiMommie on 2024-10-15 02:04:35+00:00.


I couldn’t tell you the first time it happened and I wish I could tell you the final time it will happen.

A boy who would appear to be maybe twelve or so rides on an old rusty bike and tosses the paper with such precision, one could assume he’d have a promising career with the Boston Red Sox. Heck, he’d probably soar in the NFL too. But something was seriously off about “the kid.”

He didn’t show up every single morning. But when he came, you knew it. You could hear his rusty bike chain struggling. It was as if the noise itself was elevated by invisible speakers. He would throw the paper dead center of everyone’s door step.

The paper didn’t have a name such as The New York Times or whatever your hometown has. It was just simply blank.

I remember the first paper I got. I woke up extremely tired from a sleepless night, I brewed some coffee and opened the door to see the leaves falling. That’s when I seen the paper.

“Local restaurant closes down today.”

I didn’t think much of it, restaurants close all the time. It’s one of the hardest businesses to maintain. It wasn’t until I pulled up to my favorite Chinese restaurant that they announced on the door they were closed for good, no explanation.

Months go by and I seen him riding down to the next house on the street. I picked up the paper again.

“Drunk driver crashes today.” Sure enough, a man in our town drove his car into a used car lot, damaging one that was for sale. The man was over double the legal limit according to my cousin who is a cop.

Six months go by and another one.

“Jacob dies by stabbing.” There’s a lot of people named Jacob. Many of those people I’m sure were superstitious and stayed in home that day. The news crew were outside someone’s home and said it was an active crime scene. They never did find who did it.

At least a year went by when I heard the bike peddling again. I ran outside and the paper landed at my feet.

“Full moon tonight, Be cautious.” A homeless person was mutilated in the park. They believed it to be some sort of wild animal.

The rest of the paper everytime was like any other. Filled with weather and advertisements. No one ever tried to stop the paperboy to my knowledge .

Four months go by and I see him peddling, I jog towards him.

“Hey! Quit sending out these papers! Please.”

He turned his head and spoke back to me. I could have sworn his eyes were pitch black.

“Just doing my job, I don’t write these.” The paper went dead center of my porch step.

“Factory supervisor involved in terrible accident.”

I wasn’t at work for fifteen minutes when people began freaking out. A temp on a forklift collided with one of our supervisors and he was impaled. He died before the ambulance sirens lit up the rainy parking lot.

I don’t know what made me think it was a great idea, but a year and a half goes by when I spotted him again. I charged towards him on his bike and he tossed a paper so hard, it knocked me flat on my back.

“Just wait until you get the next one! You’ll regret doing that.”

I sat up and looked at the paper. “Body found with all blood gone.” The town mayor was found with bite marks on his neck. All the blood on his body was drained.

I lived in paranoia the entire day wondering what he meant. A day goes by when the paperboy came back.

“Tim gets what he deserved.” Shit, that’s me.

I run back in the house and lock the door when I heard an audible voice.

“You think you can avoid this?”

A man comes from my kitchen. He’s wearing black pants and a white dress shirt. He’s wearing a fedora and black suspenders. He was straightened his tie. His eyes were pitch black and the smell of rotting eggs filled the room.

His arms stretched from across the room and grabbed me by my throat. He picked me up and slammed me against my ceiling and dropped me to my hardwood floor. He picked up my couch and threw it on top of me. I tried to crawl away when I felt his arms start wrapping around my neck as if they were a snake squeezing the life out of its dinner.

He flipped me around and opened his mouth. Razor sharp teeth similar to a sharks plunged into my shoulder. I let out a scream and tried throwing a punch but was too weak.

I woke up in the hospital. My neighbor heard all the commotion and left, he explained he seen a well dressed man walking down the street and finding me in a puddle of my blood. They didn’t have any trouble believing him.

Once I made it home, I stumbled to the porch and seen another paper on my step.

“Local paper closing down once a sacrifice is made.” This time there were words below the headline.

“Fellow citizens of this great community, it is with our deepest regret to inform you that we decided to close shop under one specific condition. The condition being that you all choose one person to sacrifice. The decision is up to you all by majority vote. We have plans to set up shop in another town somewhere we choose not to share at the time. However, failure to pick a sacrifice will result in daily paper deliveries, many more creative than the next. Every childless adult is required to attend.”

I never seen town hall so full of people and such chaos. Of course no one volunteered, the person was selected after people took their turns speaking. Every business was closed down that day. The person chosen was a man in jail for producing and dealing meth.

He didn’t know what was happening when he was walked in front of all of us. I still hear his voice say “what’s going on?”

The officer said. “I’m sorry.”

BANG

we never did get anymore papers delivered, but the guilt has clearly eaten up this city.

I’m not sure if they planned on coming to your town or whoever’s town. But I am completely convinced they cannot be stopped.