Delivery After Midnight

Jason leaned against the counter of Midtown Pizza, scrolling through his phone. It was 11:55 PM, and the kitchen was winding down for the night. The “No Deliveries After Midnight” sign hung prominently above the register. Everyone knew the rule—unspoken but sacred. No one asked why, but no one dared to break it.

Except Jason.

He was desperate. Rent was overdue, and his boss had promised a $200 bonus for anyone who stayed late for special deliveries. When the phone rang at 11:58 PM, Jason answered without hesitation.

“Midtown Pizza, how can I help you?”

A deep, distorted voice replied. “One large pepperoni. Extra cheese. Address: 13 Blackthorn Lane.”

Jason’s stomach tightened. Blackthorn Lane wasn’t on the delivery map, but the boss didn’t care as long as the money was good.

He hung up and grabbed the pizza, ignoring the uneasy glances from the closing staff.

“Don’t do it, man,” said Terry, the night shift cook.

Jason shrugged. “It’s just one delivery.”

Terry’s face was pale. “Not after midnight. The boss won’t cover you if—”

“I’ll be fine,” Jason cut him off, heading for the door.

The drive to Blackthorn Lane was strange. His GPS glitched, forcing him to navigate by vague directions from the caller. The road stretched endlessly, the trees pressing closer with each mile. Jason glanced at the clock: 12:15 AM.

When he finally arrived, his headlights illuminated an old Victorian house shrouded in fog. The windows were dark, the yard overgrown. Jason hesitated but forced himself to step out, pizza in hand.

He knocked twice. The door creaked open immediately.

A boy stood in the doorway, pale as moonlight, his eyes wide and unblinking.

“You brought the pizza,” the boy said. His voice was hollow, emotionless.

“Uh, yeah. Large pepperoni,” Jason replied, forcing a smile.

The boy stepped aside. “Come in.”

Jason froze. He wasn’t supposed to enter houses—company policy. But the boy stared at him, unrelenting. Against his better judgment, Jason stepped inside.

The interior was chilling. The air felt thick, heavy, and wrong. The house was immaculate, yet it smelled of decay. A grandfather clock in the hall read 12:00, but the second hand didn’t move.

“Mom and Dad are in the dining room,” the boy said, leading Jason down a dark corridor.

The dining room was lavish, with a long table set for four. A man and a woman sat at either end, their faces frozen in wide, unnatural smiles. Their skin looked waxy, their eyes glassy.

“Here’s your pizza,” Jason said, setting the box on the table.

The man’s head jerked toward him, the motion sharp and mechanical. “Stay. Join us.”

Jason’s heart raced. “I can’t. I’ve got more deliveries.”

The woman tilted her head, her smile widening. “We insist.”

The boy reappeared, blocking the exit. “You shouldn’t have come after midnight.”

Jason backed away, his breath quickening. “Look, I’ll just go. Enjoy the pizza, okay?”

But as he turned, the walls shifted, elongating into an endless corridor. The furniture dissolved into shadow, and the dining room stretched into a void.

Jason ran, his footsteps echoing unnaturally. No matter how far he went, he ended up back at the table, the family waiting.

“Eat,” the boy said, his voice now a guttural growl.

Jason’s gaze fell to the pizza box, which was open. The pizza was no longer food—it was a pulsating, fleshy mass, veins snaking across its surface. The pepperoni glistened like raw meat, and the cheese oozed a foul-smelling liquid.

“What is this?” Jason whispered, trembling.

“It’s us,” the man said, his voice overlapping with whispers. “We’ve waited so long to be fed.”

The woman reached out, her hand stretching impossibly long, her fingers claw-like. Jason stumbled back as she grabbed his wrist, her touch cold and slimy.

“You’re the delivery,” she hissed.

Jason screamed, breaking free and bolting down the corridor. The house seemed alive now, the walls pulsing and shifting, the floors sticky underfoot. He reached the front door, but it slammed shut before he could escape.

Behind him, the family followed, their bodies twisting and contorting. Their smiles stretched unnaturally wide, revealing jagged, yellow teeth.

“Stay with us,” the boy said, his voice echoing from all directions.

Jason grabbed a chair and hurled it at the nearest window. The glass shattered, but behind it was not the outside world—only a swirling void of darkness.

When Jason finally collapsed, he was back at the dining table. The pizza box was in front of him, the grotesque topping now quivering like it was alive.

“Eat,” the man said.

Jason refused, shaking his head. The boy leaned close, his eyes hollow pits of darkness.

“Then you’ll never leave.”

Jason screamed as the void swallowed him.

The next morning, Terry arrived at work to find Jason’s car still parked outside. The boss muttered about irresponsibility, but Terry knew better.

He glanced at the No Deliveries After Midnight sign, now smeared with grease and fingerprints.

Jason was gone, but the phone was already ringing.

And it was 12:01 AM.