I arrive at my apartment around 9:52, sit down, and crack open the book only to watch as the slip of paper the old man put in there flings out. I picked it up the paper was just as yellow as his teeth and felt like it could crumble at any second.

“If you are reading this I am deeply sorry for the horrors you have brought upon yourself, no, the horrors I have brought upon you. I tried my best to make sure this wretched book could not get into the hands of anyone else but as the curse takes over I fear there is very little I can do, so I offer you some rules of advice for your safety:

Five minutes after you close this book you will hear a knock on the door. On the other side an elderly man with one eye with ask you to sign off on a package, despite the fact that he does not have a package with him and you never ordered a package it is in your best interest to sign off and give him a tip. In my past experience, a piece of fresh fruit works well. 
When you go to get his tip do not close the door, he will see it as rude, but you must keep an eye on him and decline all offers of him coming in.
After he receives his tip close and deadbolt your door. If you feel a sense of dread when walking away declare “No, You may not have entrance” and put a chair under the doorknob. Make sure to make the statement with no fear in your voice, fear invites them in.
Now that you have taken care of the security measures you will find a black steel chest on the nearest table with a key next to it, ignore the chattering inside, grab a pair of sunglasses, and open the chest. Do not look into or try to grab what is in the chest, he is your only ally in this situation and it is best you stay on his good side.
After you have dealt with Pherrous the post-”

I close the book and laugh, looks like I was wrong. This wasn’t some cult tome it was just a silly horror story, sure I’ll read it eventually but eh. I move from my couch trudging across the shag carpet that hasn’t been changed since the ’70s and head to the kitchen and start making a hot pocket. “Man that book was somehow really good or something I guess,” I mumble to myself somewhat paranoid, which is nonsense cause it was just a book.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Hello?” I call out slowly approaching the door. The knocks were soft, just loud enough to be heard over the microwave

Knock. Knock. Knock. The gentle knocks turn to pounding as I quickly swing the door open slamming it into my foot. I wince in pain but before I screech my eyes meet him. He stood at least 8 feet tall and 4 feet wide. He wasn’t just old, he was ancient wearing an outfit made for an old-timey mobster only the clothes were stretched like they were one flex away from snapping. And his face, his face was horrifying he wasn’t missing an eye, he was missing a chunk of his face allowing me to see my neighbor's door. 

The beast growled as he slowly stated, “Package for Marcy.” I’m horrified. This, this, well for lack of a better word zombie just said my name. How did it learn my name? Who sent this creature? How does it know my real name, I sign everything in my dead name.

“Yes, that’s me,” I squeak grabbing a dirt-covered clipboard and seeing the train wreak known as his hands. His nails were chipped and bloody and his knuckles bruised. Only one thing could explain this and I didn’t want to think about it, so I quickly gave him my signature and waited for him to walk away when I remembered, he wanted a tip. I start to turn my flesh shifting in my clothes, only to stop, I need to keep an eye on him. I approach the kitchen so slowly that I swear my hair is getting longer. I Bump the fridge and nearly jump out of my skin.

“This house smells nice, I can tell my visit was not intentional,” The beast growls poking his head through the door. Getting a side profile I am disgusted to find most of his hair torn out showing his skull. I try to not make a noise as I grab an apple and sprint to this ghoul slamming the door behind him.

“No, you may not have entrance!” I shouted flipping the deadbolt and moving several chairs to the barricade, and that’s when I heard it. It was subtle, I mean I barely heard it over my labored breathing and pounding heart but I knew I heard it. The sound of a paper shredder… or maybe a woodpecker I can’t put my finger on it. I swivel around and there it is, an obsidian box wrapped in thick heavy chains, I’m shocked my table can support it. I fumble for a pair of shades and creep towards it. Click. The chains fall to the ground and the box springs open filling my dark one-bedroom apartment with an angelic light.

I’m knocked back onto the couch when the tome springs open. Grabbing the list of rules I start to frantically read.

“5. After you have dealt with Pherrous the postman lock all the windows, once you have done so you will be safe and able to continue on with your night, the Bumloop will keep you safe be gone in the morning and all will be well

Rules for if you didn’t lock your windows: you have now entered a world of horrors and the Bumloop will not be enough, you have now entered the Grinning Man’s domain.

The grinning man will challenge you to a series of games, winning is the only way to survive the night. 
The games will work on a “Two out of three” system
Make sure you know exactly what you are saying and are very clear with every question you ask, statement you say, and deal you offer
Make sure you pay attention to everything he says for he will try to spin his words and trick you into losing. Do not fall for the bait.”

THUD

I shriek at the sound of my window shattering followed by a weight making contact. I was not alone. Down the hall laughter pierced my brain like an icepick lobotomy. I attempt to force myself up when fear knocks me back once again.

“Hi,” My heart stops as a light feathery voice floats through the air sealing my eardrums with a poison kiss. “It is very rude to not greet your guest, you should be glad I’m so forgiving.” The creature keeps giggling as I hear footsteps lumber down the hall.

“Go away! I don’t want anything to do with you.” I cried breaking a glass and painting the white rug in Dr. Pepper, I didn’t care. Grabbing the biggest shard of glass I wrap the bottom in a paper towel. Now with my pathetic excuse of a defense tool, I sink into the fetal position and stick my arms out in a childish attempt to make myself larger.

“Is that any way to treat a house guest, friend?” The voice asked, the thing had a friendly voice which was worse, “Come on pal, I simply want to play three games. You can spare the time for three games, right?” As he chatted I trembled in my seat begging for this to be over, praying for this to be over when I heard a sniff. “Oh no friend are you trying to call for help? Tsk tsk tsk, usually I’d punish you for cheating, but there is no God here.”

“Fine!” I shriek, “What do you want I’ll play your stupid games, please just don’t hurt me,” as I scream the figure shadow spills into my living room. It was layered in spike, donning the horns of an ibex, four claws on each hand all the size of my forearm, and wings that shrouded the room in darkness. My eyes tear at the scent of sulfuric acid and rotten flesh wafting from its direction.

“Splendid, The first game is simple walk to your bedroom before I do.”

“Is.. is that it?”

“Yes, you have all the time you need. The winner of this round can ask the loser any question and the loser must answer fully and truthfully!”

“Uhm… Sounds easy enough.”

“Fantastic, you have a thirty-second headstart.”

I crawl up from my couch and walk to my hall, only to be met by a wave of bisexual lighting. This was not the hall to my bedroom. In front of me, I found three trials. “Mystery Game”, “Instant Death”, and “The Right One.” were carved into the drywall above them. Tired and Scared I walk through the door labeled the right one, and a wave of dread hits me. How did I fall for this trap, God I’m so stupid. I am stuck in two feet of some sticky black liquid as I watch a being bathed in darkness, using shadows to conceal its true face scuttle into my room.

“I win. Now I can ask a question. Who do you like more, Mom or Dad?”

“Uhm uhh, why do you want to know.”

“Sorry silly goat I’m asking the questions here, Mom or Dad?”

I never really thought of this I was a lot closer to my Dad when I was young but things were different when I ditched the family business, “I like them both, but if I have to choose I’ll say my mom I guess.”

“Perfect. Next game, walk back to the living room.”

“Are you kidding me!” I yell getting tired of this paranormal mess.

“No, and for your lack of manner, you only have a fifteen-second headstart. The winner may ask the loser for a favor.”

With a labored groan turn around and enter back into the labyrinth that used to be my apartment. Eventually, I am met by two doors “Instant Death” and “Mystery game” Storming into the mystery game room I find a note and a six-sided die.

“The Dice game: you will roll a six-sided die, and the number will correspond with one of these options.

A nuclear warhead is misplaced
You become immortal
An earthquake levels the West coast
The McRib becomes year-round
A famous band has a breakup
There is a gas leak in an office building leading to 465 casualties”

I roll the die and my gut drops, I don’t want to think about what I rolled, I can’t think about what I rolled I don’t have much time. I book it through the game room throwing myself on the couch.

“Wow, you won!” The voice says, filled with genuine sorrow,” Oh well, what favor must I do for you? Your wish is my command!”

I freeze, what could I ask for? To see its true face? Find out what it wants with me. Ask it how to leave. No, I need to be careful and make sure my favor can’t be fixed, but I need a way out. “May I please have a fancy peanut butter chocolate cookie?”

A growl shakes the room before a forced kindness is released, “Sure I would be happy to give you a fancy peanut butter and chocolate cookie.” Within seconds, the nicest cookie appeared right in front of me, this was my way out I just needed to wait.

“Alright,” I huff, “What’s the final game.” 

“Tag.” The stomping of feet fill my room as this being of mangled flesh fills the room. He looms over me standing at twelve feet tall, arms stitched to every part, his foot inverted, head backward with a gaping maw on his chest, “You better start running!” 

Right before he grabs me I shove the cookie down my throat and feel the sweet release of anaphylactic, I take a breath of comfort if I could breathe at all. 

And I wake up.

I wake up on my couch surrounded by beer cans and take a deep breath, everything is fine, I click my TV on to be met by “Breaking news: an earthquake has destroyed Los Angeles, San Francisco, Santa Monica, Seattle, and Portland.”

“Shoot,” I whisper cutting through the post-dream tranquility, I click on my phone to find a text from my mom saying my dad was in a car accident, and then I see the book the sheet of rules crossed out in red ink with the words “YOU WIN” carved on it.