I was sitting in my home office as the sun came up and sipping on a cup of coffee while waiting for a response from an ex-girlfriend of mine. I’d finally worked up the courage to actually send the message to her that I’d been paining over for the past several hours. Would she respond? Was it even worth it? Probably not. All I knew was that I could not get the woman out of my head.

I stared at the screen of my phone for a few minutes longer before pulling up the Steam app on my desktop and scrolling over the library of games I’d never play. I wanted to play all of them and none of them simultaneously. After biting my cheek and deciding on exactly no game to play, I began scrolling through the store instead, hoping that maybe I’d find a secret cheap gem I’d yet to notice. I nearly choked on my coffee when my phone began to buzz on the desk. Was she calling me? That is not what I’d expected after sending her the message. I pulled the ringing phone up to my face. Private?

Without a moment’s hesitation, I answered, hoping to hear her voice on the other end of the line. “Hello?” My voice was timid and dry.

“Hello, is this Mark?” said the male voice on the other end of the line.

I blinked, processing that I was not, in fact, talking to her. “Yes?”

“Hello, Mark, my name’s Darren and I’ll be assisting you today. Are you satisfied with your current network service provider?”

I moved my tongue around uncomfortably in my mouth, hoping to sound as polite as possible. “Fuck off, Darren.”

My thumb smacked the red phone icon before the man on the other end of the line had an opportunity to respond. I turned my attention back to my monitor and thought briefly about purchasing some survival game I’ve already forgotten the name of. The phone rang and I inspected the number. Private. I laid it back on the desk after ignoring it and that’s when I noticed something really strange. In the bottom right-hand corner of my computer monitor, a text chat popped up. It was one that I’d never seen before. The person in the chat was named Darren.

“No fucking way.” The words fell from my lips like soft warm molasses.

The text bubble popped up with the three dots to let me know that Darren was typing something. “Hey there, Mark, just checking in to see whether or not you’re satisfied with your current network service provider. If you have any questions about the exciting opportunities Sceptre Inc. is involved in, feel free to ask! We’re always here for you, Mark!”

My heart skipped a beat. Had this psycho hacked my computer somehow? None of this made any sense. I pulled up my task manager to check all the programs that were running, and nothing seemed tethered to the little chat box he was communicating with. I closed everything out. Except that chat box. For whatever reason, whenever I’d strike the little X for its window, it simply refused to respond. I shut my PC down and booted it back up.

As the OS warmed up and began running the apps I wanted on start-up, I breathed a little easier seeing that the chat box did not return. I scrolled through the Steam app some more and finally gave up on it, opting to go and take a break on the crapper. I scrolled through reddit, giving myself the two red marks across my thighs. Then my phone began buzzing in my hand. Private. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me man. This is a bit much.

I answered, “What do you want Darren?”

“Would you be willing to fill out a survey that I can then turn in to my supervisors?”

“No, Darren, no I would not.” I paused. “Is there anyway that I can get you to put me on a no-call list?”

“No call list?” His voice came across as confused. It was as though he’d never before heard anyone say those words before. “What. Is. A. No. Call. List?”

I hung up and finished my business. Boy, coffee keeps you regular, or so they say. I sat at my desk and wiggled the mouse. I was frozen to the spot, eyes bulging in response to what was on my screen. My background had been changed to a completely white one with black lettering. The message read:

ARE YOU SATISFIED WITH YOUR CURRENT NETWORK SERVICE PROVIDER?

Nah man. Fuck that. I unplugged the computer and ran my fingers through my hair. I was losing my mind. That’s what was happening. No doubt about it. I moved to the living room and attempted to forget the debacle with Darren. After checking out the bounty Netflix had to offer, I opted to flip it to The Office and only mildly paid attention to what was on the TV screen. Another call. Private. I put my phone on silent and sat it on the ottoman, hoping that maybe I could just ignore that fucking guy.

I downed another cup of coffee while craned over the stove. The smell of pancakes filled the kitchen. The Alexa in the corner played “We Didn’t Start the Fire” as I scooped the pancakes onto a plate and moved to the nook near the window. As I ate my breakfast and watched the birds in the back yard catch the wind and glide across the overgrown weeds, a knock came on my door. I raised an eyebrow but stood and went to the living room to the front door.

After peering from the window adjacent the door, and seeing that no one was on my stoop, I opened the door, glancing left and right. I almost didn’t see the package at my feet. It was plain without a signifier of its origin, wrapped in brown paper and twine. It had average, chest sized, package dimensions.

I sat it on the ottoman after bringing it in and stared at it, entirely forgetting my pancakes. There was a brief internal struggle of ethics as I wondered whether or not I should open it. At some point, without my hands having permission from my brain, I tore it open. It was a devil’s food cake. There was a message on its face:

ARE YOU SATISFIED WITH YOUR CURRENT NETWORK SERVICE PROVIDER?

I lifted the cake, walked to the front door, opened it, and yeeted the cake clear into the street. A dog barked somewhere far off and I slammed the door shut.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

After checking my phone, I saw I’d missed over twenty phone calls. Almost all of them were from a private number. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” My heart jumped into the back of my throat. One of the phone calls was from her. I threw myself onto the couch and immediately called her back.

It rang and rang and rang. Just when I was sure the voicemail would pick it up, a click came across the other end of the line. “Hello?” I wagered.

“Hi there, Mark, this is Darren from Sceptre Inc. I was hoping to pick your brain. Have you looked over the catalogue we sent you in the mail?”

“C-catalogue?” Was he talking about the cake?

“That’s right. We were hoping to hear back from you about what we can do for you when it comes to your network needs. Would you happen to have a few hours to complete a survey that I can turn into my supervisors?”

I hung up. I’d called her, hadn’t I? I checked my call log. Yes, I’d called her. What was happening? I felt a needless chill in the air, so I decided to get myself dressed properly and run down to the store. Maybe getting out of the PJs and seeing another living breathing human being would do me some good. I dumped the remainder of my pancakes into the trash and moseyed out to my truck. It felt like someone was watching me. I surmised that after spending all night awake, I was having one of those floaty morning where all normal things felt strange.

I turned on the radio in the cab of my truck and pulled out of the driveway. I waved by people as I drove with my cigarette wielding hand out the window. It was strange. The pedestrians I drove past came to a full stop upon seeing me and locked eyes with me. They smiled warmly and waved mechanically. I tossed my cigarette out the window and rolled it up. “Weird.”

I parked in the gas station parking lot and hopped out, locking my truck. After perusing their fine selection of pork skins and fatty chips, I opted to grab a bag of trail mix. That’s healthier right? I slapped the bag on the counter and the clerk glanced down from the book he was reading. He dog-eared the page and scanned the item. “Two fifty-nine,” he said.

I took my trail mix after paying and went to the glass door that rang out a little jingle upon me pushing against it.

“How’s your current network service provider treating you?” asked the clerk.

I spun around to look at the man sitting behind the counter. “What’s that?”

“Have a good day.” He said.

“You too.”

As I moved to my truck, I saw that someone had placed innumerable paper fliers under the windshield wipers while I’d been inside of the store. I swiped them off with a hand, cussing, but upon catching a glance at one of them, I started checking each of them I pulled off the windshield. They all had the same message. I’ll let you guess what they said.

In a panic, I dove into my truck and fired the ignition alive, peeling out of the asphalt lot.

On the way home, passersby continued to stop and wave. I was sweating. It was getting hard to swallow. The sun was too bright. My ears were ringing. My heart was thumping in tandem with the spinning of the world. What the hell was happening?

My anxiety swelled just as I pulled into my driveway as someone had left a stack of perhaps twenty or thirty packages on my doorstep. I sprinted to my front door, punting the boxes out of the way. I fought with my keys, continuously fumbling them. Just as I plunged the house key into the knob, I screamed, “Fuck yes!” and threw myself into the house.

I shut all of the curtains in the house, absolutely certain that someone would peek in on me. They were after me and they wanted, more than anything, to know how I felt about my current network service provider. Fuck that. Fuck them. I googled online how much installing bars on my windows would cost and realized I did not have anywhere near enough cash on hand. Maybe if I changed my network service provider, I could save some money and afford the bars. No! Hell no! What was I thinking?

I locked myself in my home office, shutting off my cell phone. Days went by and I refused to leave the room. I swear, every so often, I could hear someone outside. They won’t leave me alone! They want to take my network service provider from me! They’re trying to force me into a contract that seems like a good deal on the face of it, but I just know I’ll be paying for those surprise fees along the way! Please! God! I don’t know what to do. I’m honestly terrified of these people. Or things. Or whatever they are.

A knock came on my door and I eventually crept from the home office down the hall, to the living room. I peered out of the window adjacent to the door to see that she was standing out there.

I’m sure I looked like hot garbage, but I was honestly happy to see someone I genuinely knew in the flesh and blood. As the door swung in, she looked me over with an air of worry. “Are you alright, Mark?” she asked.

I nervously scratched behind my ear. “Yeah. I’m fine. How’ve you been?”

I invited her in, and we sat on the couch. I tried offering her something to eat or drink. I promise, I tried to be a good host, but she was having none of it. “I’m just here because of that message you sent me a few days ago.”

The red embarrassment hit my face like a heat lamp. “Please, excuse me.” I said. “I need to use the restroom.” I pattered down the hall quickly to the bathroom. I locked the door behind me and bathed my face in the sink. After wiping my face red with the towel next to the sink, I looked at the black circles around my eyes. “You’re crazy, bub.” I spoke to myself. “No, I’m not. You’re the crazy one.” I chuckled to myself and swiped my hand through my hair.

I stepped out of the bathroom to be confront by her. It was as though she’d been standing outside of the door, listening to me. Perhaps she was making sure I was not attempting to escape. “Hey, Mark,” each of her hands were held behind her back, “I wanted to let you know something.”

Nearly choking in surprise, I hacked, “Y-yes? What’s that?”

She removed the knife from behind her back and arched it over her head. That could do some serious damage, I idly thought.

“Whoa there,” I put up my hands, “There’s no reason for that.”

She pursed her lips. “You know, I’ve recently changed my network service provider.”

My breath caught in the back of my throat. “T-that so?”

“They sent me.” She spoke robotically, far away. “To make sure that you’ve looked over the catalogue they sent you.” The knife swept through the air and caught in my left shoulder. A shower of blood, my blood, shot onto the wall and I screamed as she tore the knife down with such ferocity that I was sure she’d cut through bone.

I shoved her and the knife dislodged. I staggered into the bathroom and slammed the bathroom door. The blood was everywhere, and I slipped in it. I ran on my knees to lock the door just as she slammed into it.

Her cries and beating against the door reverberated all around as I quickly tried managing my wound. The iron in the air was intoxicating. I was woozily looking through pinholes. I knew what I had to do.

I swung the door in just as she intended to slam a shoulder into it and she darted past me, flying into the tub. Without thought, I straddled her, fighting her hands. I grabbed her wrist and plunged the knife into her chest. Again. Again. Again. Until her eyes went unfocused. Then some more. I wasn’t stabbing a person. I looked down at the places the knife was striking. Beneath her flesh were wires and coolant tubes. “What the fuck?”

Her jaw clacked open sporadically, but the motions did not match the words. It was as though the words were coming from a speaker in the back of her throat. “Hello, Mark. This is Sceptre Inc. We were wondering if you are happy with your current network service provider.” The speaker went staticky then cut out as her head slowly jerked to the side.

I’ve cleaned the bathroom and thrown that thing in the trash bins.

My phone no longer works properly. Every time I attempt to make a call from it, Darren’s on the other end of the line. “Hello, Mark.” No matter what I try, this is what happens.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I have to change my network service provider.