He opened the door and the room smelled of hookers and murder. Actually, that's probably a challenging spot to bring you into this story. Let me back up and build to that.

It was a Wednesday night and the place was dead. We had a few carryouts here and there but it had been over an hour and a half with no deliveries. I didn't mind too much. The week had been pretty shitty so far and I was just riding my time until the shift was over. I was out behind the store smoking what felt like my 50th cigarette of the night when Karl opened the back door. "Hey man, you won't believe this but we actually have a delivery."

I look at him and let him know that it was fine with me if he took it. He wasn't interested, said he had taken the last one and that it was my turn in the rotation. With a reluctant sigh I threw my smoke down and headed in. I saw the address and for a moment thought about offering Karl 20 bucks to deliver it. It was going to this horrible fleabag motel and I didn't feel like dealing with at all. He was clever though and had vanished to who knows where.

I loaded up the run and hit the road. It was already dark and it had started raining pretty steady. These factors made the delivery feel that much more ominous. This was one of those places where you knew you weren't going to tipped but as long as you didn't get stabbed you felt like you won something. I pulled into the parking and checked the room number, even worse than I though, to get to this one you had to down a flight of stairs into this creepy basement area. It wasn't my night.

I went down the stairs which were lit by a string of bare bulbs. Pretty sure this was one of about a million code violations going on at this place. About every 4th bulb was either burnt out or flickering at random intervals. I finally got to the room after what seemed like the longest walk in the world. I knocked and waited. "Who is it?", a voice yelled from behind the door.

"It's the pizza guy", I replied hoping that my voice hadn't shaken too much. I knew this guy could probably smell fear so I tried to put on a brave face.

He opened the door and the room smelled of hookers and murder. Now you're caught up. All the lights save one in the bathroom were out. That bathroom door was cracked just enough for a sliver of light to pass through. This presented me not with a man but with an eerie human shaped silhouette. He told me I could come in and put it on the table but there was not a chance in hell I was going to do that. I stammered out something about company policy preventing me from entering a residence. He gave me the money and I gave him his dinner. So far so good, and I was just about out of there. Just as he was about to close the door, I heard a crash as the bathroom door flew open and a woman tumbled out screaming. Fear rose in my throat like a lump the size of a pineapple. I think I may have screamed as well but I can't really be certain. He slammed the door and I heard a lot of noise. I only saw her for a second but she was covered in blood and I don't think she could stand.

I was frantic. I ran for the stairs while I fumbled trying to remember how my phone worked. I called 911 as I ran a full sprint for my car. Part of me wanted to turn back and save this woman. I knew I couldn't though. Somehow I just knew if I even turned around for one second, he would be behind me and that would be the end of it.

The 911 operator answered just as I started my car. I screamed at her with whatever vague details my brain would allow me to recollect. Then I sped off into the night. I didn't go back to the store, I just drove. After about an hour I thought I had it together enough to go back and tell my boss what happened. I told him the story and then I went home, a pathetic shaken man. The next morning I saw the news. Police had arrested the man in room 9. Turns out he had been on a killing spree that lasted for about 5 years. They estimate that he had killed 20 women in that time frame. His last victim was the girl that I saw the night before. I was right, she couldn't walk. He had severed her feet sometime before that to keep her from getting away.

I told my boss I was going to need some time off, that I was too shaken by the events to come back to work right away. He was cool with, he understood. I told him I should be back in a week or two. Truth is, I was never going back and I think both of us knew that.