The bloody package

The package on my doorstep had my name, but I definitely didn’t order it.

I looked around for signs of the delivery person, but I saw nothing. I was a little flustered, because I was scared of what could be in the package, I had no clue whatsoever as to how the package got there.

After a little deliberation I decided to move the package in. I carefully picked it up, brought it inside and placed it on the rug in the middle of the living room. Quietly walking to the garage to pick up the box cutter, I glanced back at intervals expecting something to jump out of the package and come at me, knife in hand ready to slice me into a thousand pieces.

Grabbing the box cutter firmly, I walked back to the living room as quietly as I could, I sat in front of the package looking at it suspiciously, i said a silent prayer as i carefully cut through the seal, I opened the box with sweaty hands and what I saw nearly gave me a heart attack.

Over the last couple of months I've delved deeper and deeper into conspiracy theories, I thought of myself as a freelancer investigator. And by chance last month I got my hands on substantial evidence to prove that our neighborhood soap production company was into organ harvesting, connecting them to the disappearances and the missing kids in and around our city.

I needed all the evidence I could to nail them, so I decided to browse the dark web. I consulted an IT expert, who guided me on how to go about it. After about a week of probing the dark web, I started coming across incriminating evidence, condemning the soap production company.

I put some of the evidence I had gathered together, and mailed it to the FBI as an anonymous tip, with only my Protonmail address as contact info, so I could remain anonymous.

They reached out to me the next day asking for more proof and requested a physical meeting, I agreed to deliver the evidence from the dark web in person and to explain my findings and how the pieces came together to form the big picture.

On the day of the meeting, I walked into Brooks Cafe, as nonchalantly as I could trying not to look too suspicious for my own sake, I got to the VIP section and looked around, immediately regretting my decision to meet in person. I sat quietly at the table on the far end, and ordered a bottle of Cognac, indicating that I was there for a special meeting.

A young man dressed as a waited came to me, Introducing himself as the special agent I was there to meet, I delivered the envelope containing pictures and files and flash drives pointing to the involvement of the soap company in the alleged crimes, they were posing as a legal front to prevent the government from suspecting that they were part of a criminal syndicate.

It went smoothly, or so I thought. Nothing strange happened, I continued with my life expecting the FBI to do their thing. Then...

Two weeks ago, I got my first threat letter ever. I received a jet black envelope with my name on it, inside it was a plain card with a black hand print on it. Less than a minute later, I received a call moments after, the voice on the other end scolded me for poking my nose I'm other people's businesses, and then simply said "we are coming for you"

I deduced that whoever was mad at me for uncovering their dark secrets most probably had an inside man in the FBI, and relying on them for safety would without doubt expose me to danger. I immediately installed CCTV in and around my house, installing land lines and barb wires over my fence, not that I expected that to deter them, but it could be the difference between living and dying.

And ever since then nothing has happened, so when I opened that the package and saw a human heart in it with a note saying "your's next", I knew I was doomed, it took me a few minutes to recover from the shock.

I immediately called 911 and explained the situation to them, leaving out the bit about my dealings with the FBI. They police arrived took the package with them and decided that I was not save staying alone at my home, as whoever sent the package was probably going to come for me.

I packed a few things as I headed to the police station with them, the FBI found out and had me moved to a secure housing unit on a military base, just on the outskirts of the city. I'll be staying there for a while until it was safe for me to go home, or as the FBI agent told me, until they nabbed the criminals and I was no longer in danger.

I had no issue with moving, since I worked remotely and I was living alone, I had no family members or friends in this country, i should probably move to another country but I don't think that would stop them from coming for me.

About two days later the young FBI agent I met at the cafe showed up on orders from his superiors to bring me to a safe house of the FBI for questioning, I didn't know what that had to do with anything but I followed him.

I got to the safe house, and I was too late when I realized that I was actually paying a visit to the criminals that sent me the black hand and the bloody package. It was hard to accept, but now I was at the mercy of criminal I outed to the government.

I had so many questions, was the FBI in on this, and the whole investigation was just a charade? Was it just the young FBI agent? Were they going to kill me or torture me for information? Different thoughts were running through my mind as they introduced themselves and confirmed their involvement in the kidnappings.

I was glad I finally found the criminals behind the kidnappings, an achievement I was proud of, and I'm sure my fail safe will leak the information I have gathered to the world after I die. I don't need to know what happens next.

I believe that justice will prevail, these we're my thoughts as I bit into the cyanide capsule hidden in my teeth.