Who Actually Ordered the Takeout in Apartment 502"

Ten oclock at night. On the dot.
A delivery guy in a baseball cap knocked on the door of apartment 502.
Food delivery!
We were all roommates in a three-bedroom apartment.
Ethan, the one we called Specs, opened the door. He had his headphones on, deep in some online game, and waved a dismissive hand.
Not mine.
Without another word, the delivery guy pulled out a knife and slashed his throat.
Then, still holding the takeout bag, he pushed open the door to the next room. Excuse me, did you order food?
Mark, the gym instructor who lived in that room, looked up, startled. No, who are you?
The delivery guy didn't give him a chance to finish. The knife plunged straight into his heart.
I had just finished my shower. The moment I opened the bathroom door, I saw the carnage. The floor was slick with blood.
And the delivery guy was standing there, knife in hand.
It wasn't them. So, was it you?
My mind went blank with terror. I shook my head, a reflex. Not me, I dont know anything
I never finished the sentence. He hacked me to death in a flurry of strikes.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Five minutes before I was murdered.
I burst out of the bathroom, my heart hammering against my ribs, and my eyes locked with the equally terrified gazes of my two roommates.
I knew, without a doubt, we had all come back.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
A low, muffled male voice came from the other side. Food delivery?
The three of us stared at each other, our faces masks of pure, unadulterated fear and disbelief.
Ethan was the first to react, snatching his phone to call the cops.
But Mark clamped a hand over his. With what evidence? What are we going to tell them?
That we had a premonition someone was about to murder us?
The living room was spotless. No bodies, no blood. Not even a shadow of the delivery guy. Calling the police now would just get us flagged for a prank call.
The key is to figure out who ordered the food, I said, forcing my voice to stay level. Hes obviously after the person who placed the order.
Ethan immediately pulled up his delivery app and showed us his phone.
I havent ordered anything all week!
Mark took out his phone, displaying his own order history.
Im on a strict meal plan. I cook everything myself.
I quickly opened my app, too. The most recent order was from three days agobreakfast.
I offered a guess. Maybe it was a neighbor? Maybe they put in the wrong address?
We lived in an old building, just two apartments per floor. Our neighbors were an elderly couple.
Mark shook his head. Before I died last time, I saw the order sticker on the bag. The address was definitely 502.
The three of us began to eye each other. The atmosphere grew tense.
Was one of us lying?
I swear, I didnt order anything. To prove my innocence, I handed my phone to them. You can check. My payment history is all there.
Ethan and Mark swapped phones, checking each others records. There were no recent food delivery charges for any of us.
Then who could it be? Ethan ran his hands through his hair in frustration.
Suddenly, I thought of someone.
Just as I was about to pull out my phone to make a call, we heard our landladys cheerful voice from the hallway.
Leo? Mark? Ethan? Are you boys home?
She always came by on the fifth of the month to collect rent. Today was the fifth, a weekday, which was why she was here so late.
The color drained from our faces. We all held our breath.
Then, that same muffled voice spoke again. Excuse me, did you order the food?
Our landlady, Mrs. Gable, paused, turning around. A delivery? No, that wasn't me.
The words had barely left her mouth when the delivery guy raised his knife and swung it at the back of her neck. A gut-wrenching scream tore through the hallway as Mrs. Gable crumpled to the floor.
We were frozen, shaking uncontrollably.
Mrs. Gable had always been kind to us. She knew we were recent grads with little money, so she kept the rent low and often brought us homemade dishes.
My fingers trembled as I fumbled for my phone. It took me several tries to dial 911.
Hello police
Before I could say more, there was a click. The lock on our door turned.
The delivery guy pushed the door open and gave me a grotesque smile. What do you think youre doing?
Every hair on my body stood on end.
Mrs. Gable, miraculously, struggled to her feet. She latched onto his leg, using her last ounce of strength to yell, Run!
The delivery guy, annoyed, stabbed her twice more, shaking her body off his leg. Then, knife in hand, he started walking toward us, one step at a time.
Mark tried to rush him, to fight back, but he was cut down with a single, brutal stab.
In the next instant, a searing pain exploded in my chest as the cold blade pierced through me.
I burst out of the bathroom again.
At the exact same moment, Mark burst out of his room.
Ethans voice was choked with sobs. It it happened again?
This is the second time, Mark said, his brow furrowed, his expression grim.
We have to find a way out of this, I gasped, collapsing onto the sofa. We cant let him kill us again.
We fell into a heavy silence, each of us replaying the two deaths, searching for a pattern. The delivery guys target was clearly the person who ordered the food. We were just collateral damage because we werent who he was looking for.
But who was he looking for?
And another thinghes good, Mark said suddenly. I graduated with a degree in sports science, Im in the gym every day, but I was no match for him. His movements are professional. Like hes been trained.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
That terrifying voice echoed through the door once more. Food delivery?
I glanced at my watch. Mrs. Gable would be arriving in two minutes.
Quick, call her! Call Mrs. Gable!
Ethans fingers flew across his phone screen.
Hey, Mrs. Gable? Its Ethan. Listen, all three of us have come down with a bad cold. We dont want to get you sick. Could you maybe come by another day?
At the same time, I dialed the number I hadnt been able to call last time.
It was answered after two rings.
Chloe? I asked, my voice tight with urgency. Did you order food for me?
I could hear her smile on the other end. You found out! It was a surprise to thank you for helping with those reports today. How did you know?
We found her.
The three of us exchanged a look of relief.
Chloe, whats your connection to the delivery guy? I pressed. Why is he so desperate to find you?
She paused, her tone shifting to confusion. The delivery guy? I just placed the order a minute ago; the app hasn't even assigned a driver yet.
Leo, is everything okay?
It wasnt her.
Time was running out. I didn't have a moment to explain. I hung up.
Oh no! Ethan suddenly cried out. Mrs. Gable replied! He played the voice message.
Her warm voice filled the room. All three of you are sick? You must not have eaten, then. I just made a big pot of stew. Ill bring some up for you boys. Im already on the fifth floor.
Our faces went deathly pale. We were too late.
Ding! The elevator doors opened.
Mrs. Gables voice followed. Oh, hello, young man. Are you here with a delivery?
Then came the familiar, muffled male voice. Excuse me, are you the one who ordered the food?
We scrambled to the peephole. Mrs. Gable was standing right by the elevator, face-to-face with the delivery guy.
This was exactly how she had died last time.
We had hidden behind the door like cowards, watching as she died trying to save us.
This time, I couldn't let that happen.
Open the door, I said, my voice firm.
Ethan and Mark looked at me, stunned for a second, then nodded in agreement. Mark sprinted to the kitchen and came back with a fruit knife. Ethan grabbed a heavy mop handle.
I yanked the door open. Mrs. Gable, get in here! Quick!
Before she could process what was happening, Ethan had pulled her inside. Mark immediately tried to slam the door shut.
But just as it was about to close, the delivery guy wedged his knee in the gap, forcing it open.
He stepped inside, his eyes under the brim of his baseball cap scanning the four of us.
Who ordered the food?
This time, I stepped in front of Mark and Ethan.
I did. What do you want?
The delivery guys gaze settled on me.
He didn't immediately kill me. I had gambled correctly.
He held out the takeout bag. Valuable item. I need you to confirm its undamaged before I can leave.
I hesitated, then took the bag. It was impossibly light, weighing almost nothing.
I unzipped it. And froze.
Inside, there was nothing but a single, crumpled piece of paper.
Before I could even read what was on it, he raised his knife and plunged it into my chest.
As my consciousness faded, I heard him snarl, Liar! It wasn't you at all!
The third time I burst out of the bathroom, I collapsed onto the sofa, gasping for air.
Ethan and Mark stumbled out of their rooms a moment later, their faces even more haggard than before.
After he after he killed you, he killed us all again. Ethans voice was cracking. Leo, you were holding the bag. What was in it? Why did you look so shocked?
Mark frowned. It was empty. Then why did he insist you confirm its contents?
It wasn't empty, I said, trying to steady myself, my mind a chaotic mess. There was a note.
A note? What did it say? they asked in unison.
I shook my head. I didnt get a chance to read it.
Wait a minute, Ethan said suddenly. The first time, he asked who ordered the food, then killed all three of us. The second time, he didn't even ask, he just killed us. The third time, even after you said you ordered it, he still killed us all
What if what if he isn't here to deliver food at all?
What if hes just here to kill us?
A chill went down my spine. But why? None of us even know him.
Mark considered this. Maybe hes a hitman. I told you before, hes had professional training.
I shook my head. But who would go to all this trouble to kill us? There has to be a motive.
We fell silent again, racking our brains, trying to recall every detail from each loop.
Then I remembered the note in the empty bag. Even though I hadn't read it, an answer was beginning to form in my mindan answer so bizarre I had to test it myself.
I stood up. This time, we cant just wait for him to kill us.
Im going to confront him. Im going to find out what he really wants.
Ethan grabbed my arm. No, Leo, thats insane! He has a knife!
Well all go, Mark added. The three of us together might stand a chance.
Its useless, I said, shaking my head. Hes too skilled. You saw what happened last time, Mark. Were no match for him.
I glanced at my watch. The doorbell would ring in one minute.
You two hide in your rooms. Dont come out, I instructed. If something happens to me, you figure out another way.
They started to protest, but the doorbell cut them off.
That muffled voice, again. Food delivery?
I squared my shoulders, opened the door, slipped out, and pulled it shut behind me.
The delivery guy stood there, cap pulled low, holding the same takeout bag.
I ordered it, I said, looking him straight in the eye. Now what do you really want? The bag is empty, so whats written on that note?
He seemed taken aback, as if he hadnt expected me to be so direct.
He said something strange. You cant be
Then he lunged, the knife aimed at my chest.
I was ready. I sidestepped the attack, grabbed the emergency wrench from the fire hose cabinet in the hall, and swung it hard at his wrist.
The knife clattered to the floor. He recoiled in pain. I seized the opportunity, tackling him and pinning him against the wall with the wrench at his throat.
Talk! Why are you trying to kill us?
Just then, I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs.
Walter, the new head of building security, appeared, stun baton in hand. A minute earlier, I had called security and asked him to come up. Walter was a retired martial arts instructor. With him here, we were safe.
Leo? Whats going on? Walter looked alarmed. I got your call and came right up. You got a burglar?
Walter, hes a murderer! Help me, call the police! Relief washed over me, and my tense muscles began to relax.
Walter immediately pulled out his phone, his thumb swiping across the screen.
Okay, okay, take it easy, Im calling 911 right now
But the next second, he jabbed the stun baton right into me.
An agonizing jolt shot through my body. My vision went black, and I collapsed.
The delivery guy rubbed his wrist and slowly picked up his knife from the floor.
You you know each other? I stared at them in disbelief, blood from the back of my head trickling down my cheek.
Just as the delivery guys knife was about to plunge into my chest, the apartment door flew open. Ethan and Mark charged out.
Mark was holding a metal pipe, and he swung it with all his might, connecting with the delivery guys back.
The man grunted in pain and turned to face him.
Leo, go! Mark shouted, trying to hold him off.
Ethan threw himself at Walters legs. Leo, run! Dont worry about us!
The delivery guy stabbed Mark in the shoulder, but Mark just gritted his teeth and held on.
I watched, helpless, as Walter pinned Ethan against the wall, the stun baton crackling against his body. I watched as the delivery guy stabbed Mark again and again, his blood splattering across the white hallway walls.
We were just roommates. We kept to ourselves, busy with our own lives. I never would have imagined that, in a life-or-death moment, they would lay down their lives to save me.
The elevator doors chimed open. My escape was right there.
But if I ran, the loop would end. They would stay dead. For real.
Without a second thought, I scrambled up and threw myself in front of Mark, grappling with the delivery guy.
His baseball cap was knocked off, revealing his face.
I froze.
I knew that face.

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