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Chapter 1: The Last Delivery (edit 8-12-25, moved the intro back to the mid 80s)
🕑 Added 2025-07-23 21:31:22 +0000 UTCChapter 1: The Last Delivery The pizza box was already soaking through by the time I reached the door. Grease, rain, and a cracked Domino’s
Chapter 1: The Last Delivery
The pizza box was already soaking through by the time I reached the door. Grease, rain, and a cracked Domino’s sign on the passenger seat—that was my life. The wipers squealed against the windshield as I parked my rusted-out Corolla half on the sidewalk. I flipped my hoodie up against the drizzle, grabbed the stack of cardboard boxes, and trudged through the puddles to the massive Greek house with ivy crawling up its front.
The address was a sprawling sorority house off-campus, lit up with pink string lights and the bass thump of synth-pop leaking through the walls. Laughter floated through the open windows. Someone shouted “chug!” followed by a cheer. The front lawn was littered with red plastic cups and the occasional sparkly sandal abandoned to the mud. It had started to pour a few hours ago, and it was now a steady drizzle.
I knocked once, balancing the stack of boxes. The door swung open. A girl in a glittery toga and flower crown blinked at me. She smelled like strawberries and cheap vodka. “Ooh, pizza guy. You’re early.”
“Five large meat lovers, two cheese and one with anchovies,” I said, raising the boxes like an offering.
She smiled brightly with perfect teeth. “You’re cute, pizza guy.” She grabbed the pizzas and waved me inside. “Come on, we need more men. It is Rom-Com Gladiator Night! You’re perfect. I am Kennedy. I organized this!” She gestured at the decorated room. Things like this didn’t happen to me. My only attractive asset was my pale blue eyes; at least that’s what my girlfriends told me after we inevitably broke up. I was slightly taller than most guys, average looks beyond my eyes, and my mop of black hair was always fighting any attempt at being kept orderly.
I hesitated. I still had two more deliveries in the oven back at the store. But the bubbly blonde was smiling at me like I belonged.
“You don’t wanna miss out on destiny, right?” she teased with a drunken slur, sliding a few twenties into the pocket of my flannel shirt. I didn’t need to count it to know it was a huge tip. These rich college kids had different ideas about money. Maybe I could stay for half an hour and claim I had trouble with the delivery.
Inside, the house looked like a toga-themed fever dream. White sheets, golden sashes, fake ivy hung from the stair railings. Balloons floated lazily in the ceiling corners, and someone had projected a gladiator movie on the back wall. The words were muted as Spartacus fought on the screen. AC/DC thumped from speakers in another room, drowning out the movie.
At least two dozen girls and a handful of frat bros in laurel crowns were dancing, drinking, shouting Latin phrases like spells. The ratio was astonishing, with at least eight girls for every one guy. Some of the girls even looked like they should be in high school, not that the local police would investigate this sorority house.
Someone handed me a second red cup after I finished my first cranberry and vodka. A girl giggled as she tossed a plastic sword at my feet. “Don’t be lame,” she said. I think she said her name was Kennedy. Or Kendra. Something with a K. “Live a little.” She flashed up her toga to reveal hot pink lace underwear underneath. “Fight for me!” So, I did and strapped on the plastic sword.
I called the store, and told my bud working the ovens my car wouldn’t start. Before he could put my boss on the phone, I hung up. I hoped I didn’t get fired, but there were other jobs. Later in the evening, I found myself with a nice buzz on the couch between two blondes, and we were trading swigs from a bottle of cherry vodka, watching Kirk Douglas rally the slaves.
Kennedy was close, her leg pressing hard into mine. Her perfume was a little overwhelming, but it made my head spin pleasantly, giving me a nice added buzz. “You ever think you were born in the wrong era?” she asked drunkenly. “I am a history major, and I always wondered what living back then would be like.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “I guess? I am sure back then you had the freedom to do what you wanted when you wanted to and didn't have to worry about apartment rent and gas money.” I didn't want to spoil what was going to happen eventually tonight. I just needed to ride this out until she dragged me up to her room. I should probably slow down on the drinking a bit as well.
She laughed and turned to me, our faces just inches apart. “I mean, like, warrior shit. Fighting for glory and fame. You know?”
I grinned. “I mostly deliver pizzas and bag groceries.” I worked a few hours a week in my aunt’s grocery store for extra cash. I thought about asking her to go see a movie, maybe Ghostbusters at the drive-in, but dropped the idea quickly. I winced, realizing how beneath her I was in social status.
She laughed, and before I could say anything else, she leaned in and kissed me. It was sudden, warm, and a little sloppy from the drinks, but I didn’t pull away. The blonde on the other side of me had her hands on my thigh, rubbing it suggestively. Cheers erupted from the nearby couch as their sorority sisters cheered. Someone whistled. How the hell did I decide not to go to college?
From the hallway, a frat guy watched us with narrowed eyes. He wore a toga that looked like it had been ironed, with gold trim that was too perfect. His square jaw clenched as Kennedy giggled into my neck after the long kiss. Somehow, I was cock blocking him, but it was not my problem, and this was definitely a one-nighter for me and her. Hopefully an all-nighter.
Later, while I leaned over the kitchen counter, catching my breath from a lengthy public make-out session, the frat guy sidled up beside me. “Hey,” he said. “Kennedy said you wanted to go hard tonight. Here.” He handed me a small red capsule with tiny golden flecks in it.
I hesitated. “What is it?”
“Golden teacher. Totally clean. You’ll love it. Great for parties. Kennedy has already taken one. It is going to blow your mind how much it gets you going.” He smiled, but I couldn't tell if he was being genuinely helpful because I was too drunk. I should’ve questioned it. Should’ve walked away. But my veins were full of vodka, and it seemed my choices for the evening were either Kennedy and me, or Kennedy, me, and her roommate, and I had never had a threesome before.
They had been expecting most of the football team. However, I discovered that the football team was not flying back tonight due to a mechanical issue with their plane, so they were forced to get a hotel and fly back tomorrow. It seemed fate was on my side. Kennedy waved at me from the other room, still glowing and eager. Her roommate and her had gone to the bathroom together and looked like they were ready to continue.
I popped the capsule, smiled, and walked to her. Kennedy and her roommate guided me back to the couch, giggling.
I didn’t remember when it hit. Kennedy or her roommate had her hand deep in my jeans' pocket, and I wasn't sure which one I was kissing at the moment. I think it was the one who had eaten the sardine pizza by taste, but I couldn't remember who that was. Everything turned hazy. Colors bled. The music slowed down, then sped up.
Kennedy dragged me to my unsteady feet, her roommate supporting me from behind as they both giggled. Kennedy kissed me again in the hallway and pulled me onto the patio, which had a pool. The rain had stopped, but my skin still felt like it was being pelted with cold drops. I briefly thought we might be skinny dipping, and I was all in.
I was dragged past the pool and realized I was starting to burn up, my face felt heated. Then there was a giddy weightlessness, and I no longer cared. There was a massive hammock in the corner of the yard, and I think that was where the three of us were headed. Kennedy and her roommate were giggling and kicking off their sandals as they pulled me toward the suspended heaven.
Then things started to go wrong. The stars above seemed to spin faster and faster, pinwheeling in impossible patterns. I don't know when I fell, but I did. I never made it to the hammock. “Oh shit,” someone whispered.
“Is he breathing?”
“Kennedy, what the fuck did you give him?”
“Just vodka,” she blurted worriedly.
My vision collapsed in on itself. The world stretched, like looking through water. My arms wouldn’t move. My heartbeat slowed. The stars bent into shapes I didn’t recognize. One by one, the partygoers turned into fuzzy images as my eyes dilated.
Someone yelled, “Call 911.”
“Don't do that! The house is already on probation!” A girl yelled in panic. I could understand that they didn’t want a dead body in their house.
Kennedy was crying. “I didn’t mean—we were just going to have some fun.”
The other girls were panicking. One guy took charge with a familiar grating voice. “We need to move him. If he dies here, it could be very bad for our scholarships.” I thought, yeah, for you since you gave me the bad hit. I didn’t know his name, so he became Asshole #1 in my head.
“You are never gonna start anyway,” another guy yelled. “We should drive him to the ER.”
“This is insane,” A girl squealed.
“You wanna go to prison?” the male voice said again. “Load him into his shitty Corolla,” Asshole #1 ordered the others.
I was aware, but had no control over my body. They loaded me into my trunk and drove. They argued the entire time they were driving. I think there were two guys and two girls, one of them being Kennedy. They drove past the city limits. Past the farmland. Into a part of the state where even the radio gave up trying to find a signal. I wanted to tell them that I was still alive. My heart rate was just incredibly slow, but I was helpless.
They left me in an old barn surrounded by endless corn fields. One girl whispered a prayer. Another, I think Kennedy, got my wallet, and it was slapped from her hands.
Asshole #1 yelled at her. “What are you doing, Kennedy?”
She was sobbing uncontrollably. “I…I…I wanted to tell his family where he was.”
“Leave his wallet. The farmer will find it tomorrow,” Asshole #1 barked at her.
“But it looks abandoned,” Kennedy whimpered.
“We should wipe our fingerprints out of his car,” another guy spoke. They quickly agreed, and a flurry of action on the side of my vision happened. Then they drove off in the other car that had followed them. At least they left me my Corolla. I tried to focus on my slow heartbeat. There was only silence around me, and the slow thump of my heartbeat was my only company. I was willing it to keep beating. I was left alone, and I didn’t feel the passage of time, and couldn’t stay awake. My vision went black, and I passed out.
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Comments
CozyGoblin
This is a really nice first chapter for it to be a standalone. You are a great writer as usual. I only hope if this is good enough, it may spark your passion to continue the series.
Erick Thiemke
perhaps, this is supposed to be an anti-hero story. a little less white knight, and more selfish character development. his trial and tribulations are supposed to harden im from relying on anyone but himself. it is supposed to be a stand alone book about 40 years before Soldier's Life and I know I have to change the first chapter to remove cell phones
Karnnie
Will this series lead to a new character in Soldier's Life? Will they eventually meet and possibly team up? That could be a very amazing story.
person1357
Reading this gave me some sympathy for the killer in i know what you did last summer.
Erick Thiemke
yeah I will look at the time line next time i write another chapter, will be a week or two
Erick Thiemke
probably Minnesota, more larger colleges there
Enk
i thought you were in australia for a mo, until i looked up dominos start here (1983). This party didn't occur in South Dakota did it?
SENLI
If this is supposed to be in the eighties he should not have a smartphone, most likely a delivery guy didnt have a phone at all, maybe a pager, also UBER wasnt around yet as it was founded 2009.
Erick Thiemke
I guess I could push soldier further in the future but I think I wrote it as modern day when they were pulled over
Bananaboat
So if this is 40 years before the start of soldiers life and takes place around the late 80's does that mean soldier's life takes place in the late 2020's? Even further than now?
Jonathan Gleeson
Not where I was expecting this to go. Thank you.
Erick Thiemke
50 to 60 chapters and just the one book is planned. It occurs 40 years before A Soldiers Life but is in the Telhian Empire. So the MC would have been isiaked in the late 1980's
Daniel kanevsky
How long will this stand alone story be? Is it a series? And is it related to a soldier' life?
Igor Chmurski
Apparently there is a misstranslation in the patreon app that translates "minutes" as "months" to Polish and i was really confused why i got a sudden notification from 12 months ago
Igor Chmurski
And that is why kids, you don't neglect your responsibilities to do drugs and bitches.
Erick Thiemke
dont worry it is not a time sink.
Marvin Amann
Please not a new story!!! It's really unfortunate that you have a tendency to start a lot of stories, but don't finish existing ones. Would much rather have a new chapter of stories like a Incubus life or a new chapter of the world sphere
