My name is Anirudh, but people call me Anni. It's not a nickname I chose, but one that stuck--from
affection, I guess.
I turned eighteen a few months ago. Legally adult. Mentally... still catching up.
Lately, things have been strange. And by strange, I mean something that took a knife to my normal
life and carved it open.
It all began on a Tuesday night.
A voice. A stranger's voice. One that didn't belong in my world.
If you're already confused--good. I was too.
So let me take you back to the beginning.
.
I work as a waiter in a small but decent hotel near my area. My days are usually spent wiping tables,
cleaning dishes, and delivering overpriced room service with a tired smile.
That night started like any other. Quiet. Routine.
Until the landline rang.
.
Arjun, one of the senior waiters, picked it up. I watched him pause, his eyes locking on the wall like
.
he was reading bad news.
When he put the receiver down, a strange tension settled over the room like a cold draft.
.
"Hey, Arjun," I asked. "Everything okay?"
.
He took a deep breath and replied, "Yeah. Just... our VIP guest asked for you."
.
"Me?"
.
He nodded. "Room 202. Greet them properly, okay? No mistakes. Understood?"
.
There was something off in his tone.
I tried brushing it off. I wasn't perfect at my job, but I wasn't stupid either.
"Don't worry," I said, forcing a smile. "I'll give it my best."
.
When I reached Room 202, I knocked. No answer.
I stepped inside. The room was empty. Cold. Almost too clean.
There was only one thing left on the table: a sealed water bottle.
I picked up the room's landline and called the reception.
"Sir," I said. "There's no one here."
.
His voice was calm. Almost too calm. "Is there something left in the room for you?"
.
"Yeah... a water bottle."
.
"It's for you. Take it home. And--take tomorrow off. You've earned a holiday."
That was... odd. But I didn't question it. I should have.
.
I went home. Drank the water.
Five minutes later, my phone rang. Unknown number.
I answered.
A female voice whispered, slow and seductive, "How did the water taste?"
My heart skipped. "Are you the VIP who left the bottle?"
She laughed. Soft. Dangerous.
"Yes," she said. "Now answer me. How did it taste?"
"Uh... weird. Sweet, salty... thick. Sticky, almost. What the hell was in that?"
Her next words made my skin crawl and my chest tighten all at once.
"It was my juice," she said. "My cum."
And then the line went dead.
---
That's how this story starts.