Everything was quiet around him as he drove through the Crazytown tunnel, cursing his firm's need to make their employees work on Boxing Day. Lazytown was just one of many stops on his list he had to make as he delivered late Christmas presents and other parcels to people. There was no denying that Lazytown was somewhat on his way to Sweet City apart from a minor detour but he hated going the extra way just to make one drop off that didn't seem to warrant the time spent getting there. What made it worse was that his firm refused to pay him extra travel time between stops and had backed out of paying double mileage at the last minute. Though his route and schedule was simple it was annoyingly long. Greentown for three drop offs, Crazytown for eight, Lazytown for one and Sweet City for four before coming full circle and finishing back at Greentown. He was half tempted to skip his drop off at Lazytown, it would be so much easier to simply claim she wasn't home when he called or lose the parcel somewhere and claim he'd dropped it off. It was something he'd done before, many a time, but his bosses were tightening up. Especially at that time of year they were hotter than ever on deliveries being done and simply saying she wasn't in wouldn't be enough. He could always shave some time off by faking the recipient's signature when he had five minutes for a break.
As hard as it was he ignored the turning for the road that would lead him to Sweet City and continued to follow his current course. Approaching the perimeter of the town he spotted numerous men in black leather uniforms patrolling, one group waved for him to stop and he did as he was told. Opening his window as two men strode over to his van he leant out of it to speak to them.
"I have a parcel for Robyn Rotten. Do I need to hand it over to you guys or can I take it through to her?"
"Can we see some ID please?" One of the men enquired, ignoring the delivery man's question.
Swearing under his breath the driver reached for his ID card and handed it to the uniformed man that had asked for it. He and his colleague studied it before nodding and he took it back once they held it up for him. Replacing it back in its holder he had half a mind to ask his question again but found himself being waved on. Sarcastically waving thank you he continued on towards his drop off point and hoped that he wouldn't suffer any more interruptions.
'This would be a lot quicker and easier if the people building the houses hadn't been too lazy to put numbers on them.' He grumbled in his head.
Finding the house as had been described to him he pulled his van up outside of it and got out. Wanting to regain some time that he'd lost by being stopped and questioned he jogged over to the back of the van and threw open one of the doors. Clambering inside he fumbled about in amongst the parcels before he found the one he was looking for and quickly jumped out. Slamming the door shut with his elbow he ran over to the house and kicked on the front door, his hands busy holding the parcel. On the other side of the door he could hear movement and he waited what seemed a painful amount of time before it opened. He was greeted by a reasonably tall and slender man with a big chin and a stripy suit that made him look somewhat taller.
"Robyn Rotten's house?" The driver asked, trying to force as much enthusiasm into his voice as he could.
"Yeah," The tall man nodded.
Faking a smile, the driver handed the parcel over to the tall man. "Parcel for her, have a nice day!"
Robbie stared blankly at the box that had been thrust into his hands before watching the driver drive hurriedly away. Shaking his head he turned and went back into the house, kicking the door closed with his foot. He shrugged at Doctor Cole before setting the box down on the coffee table and sitting back in his chair. Rubbing his hands together he licked his lips before picking up his fork with one hand and his abandoned plate of cake with the other. Within seconds there was nothing left of the purple and white mess of cake, icing and cream.
Doctor Cole smirked and sighed, "I really don't understand how someone that eats as much junk as you do and moves so little isn't half the size of a house. Where do you put it all?"
"He has hollow legs," Kit remarked jovially coming down the stairs, having caught the Doctor's question. "What's in the box?"
Robbie shrugged again, "Guy who dropped it off said it was for Robyn. He almost threw it at me and left."
"Odd. I don't remember her saying she ordered anything. It's wrapped up pretty nice, maybe it's from one of her friends from the Clinic? Either way, she'll be down in a minute."
As Robyn brushed her hair there was a feeling she couldn't shake off. It had started off barely noticeable but grew gradually in strength until it started to become unbearable. It felt as though her skin was tingling, every hair standing on end. She'd tried to push it down but it had refused to be ignored. Its source was something close by, very close. Setting down her hairbrush she inspected herself in the mirror one more time before leaving the bathroom.
Her bad feeling grew in intensity as she climbed down the stairs. What had felt like tingling now turned to stinging and it sounded as if rotor blades were whirring round in her head. Deaf to the enquiries after her health, asking if she was ok, she found her eyes drawn to the carefully wrapped box on the coffee table. There was something inside of it, calling to her.
Robbie and Kit looked at each other with confusion. They'd smiled at Robyn as she'd become visible on the stairs but it was as if they weren't there to her. Each step she took down the stairs seemed to render her more and more pale. Concerned for her they'd asked if she was ok but not even the slightest sliver of acknowledgement was granted to them. They knew something was wrong but what it was evaded them. Doctor Cole had risen from his place on the sofa, he too trying to gain a response but being rewarded with nothing. His medical mind hummed with possible causes that ran alongside his favourite patient's medical history. His first conclusion was one that made him extremely uncomfortable. As Robyn moved towards the box he began to switch his mindset away from that of medicine and towards that of things of more sinister origins.
It was beginning to make sense.
Their look of confusion altering into one of knowing, Robbie put his hand on Kit's shoulder. "Get Sportacus." He implored.
Nodding vaguely Kit looked at Robyn before turning and running out of the house. His movements attracted the attention of several patrolling Network officers who momentarily wondered if the clown was pulling another practical joke but the urgency with which he climbed up the ladder to Sportacus' airship told them otherwise and they radioed their superior.
Her fingernails found a crease in the paper covering the box and she pulled at it. Tearing the paper she slowly unwrapped it, her skin feeling as though it were burning but unable to pull herself away from the box. Beneath the glossy paper was a plain, simple cardboard box with no indications of where it had come from. Its top was sealed with the flaps interlocked with one another and with shaking hands she reached for them.
Boris arrived at the house the same time as Sportacus and Kit. His first instinct was to remove the box but he was too late to stop Robyn from opening it.
Unfolding the flaps she could see a CD rested on some tissue paper. She picked it up and felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her, forcing her to drop it. Her heart pounded as she watched her hand move as if on its own volition towards the tissue paper and her breath caught in her throat as she lifted it up, setting it down beside the box. From her vantage point she could see what it had hidden. As if pulled by an invisible force she lifted up the box, her mind demanding she take a closer look.
With a swift movement Boris grabbed Robyn as she recoiled from the box with a scream. His eyes momentarily caught sight of the horror as he pulled her away and it fell from her hands sending the contents of the box rolling across the floor.
A decapitated head with a priest's dog collar clinging to what remained of the neck, its eyes wide and face frozen in a picture, an expression that asked 'why?'