“Sin-Eater”
NEED CASH IMMEDIATELY? WANT TO START WORKING ASAP? HIRING NOW.
ALL APPLICANTS ACCEPTED. BRING YOUR APPETITE.
“All applicants accepted? What does that mean?” Dana wondered aloud as she scanned the online post. She was hurting badly for money and with the first approaching quickly, she knew that desperate times were going to call for desperate measures. She was tired of her desk job applications seemingly falling into the void, never to be read or evaluated. Her freelance gigs had all but dried up. She urgently needed something to generate income, so she took to scrolling through the seediest of online job posts just to find anything that would offer a quick windfall.
“Bring your appetite?” Dana mused over those last few words on the post. The description was so vague she knew it would probably be best to not engage with it, keep searching. But something about it was intriguing–and the promise of immediate money definitely appealed to her. Against her better judgment, she grabbed her cell phone and called the number included on the post.
“Thank you for calling S.N. Ester, Inc. How may I direct your call?” A shrill voice on the other end recited.
“Um, hi yeah, I’m calling in response to a job post I read online?” Dana replied, “It mentioned bringing your appetite?”
“Ah yes, very good. Are you local to the East End area?” The voice asked.
“Yes, that’s where I live–”
“Excellent. Come in tomorrow at 3:00 PM. 130 Downhill Ave. See you then!”
Dana was taken aback by the brevity of the conversation. The person on the call offered no more information than the job posting gave, didn’t even ask about her availability tomorrow.
Dana knew she had to go and see what this was for herself.
S.N. ESTER, INC. TEMP AGENCY
Dana scanned the business card while she waited for her appointment. As much as she wanted to be relieved, a part of her almost felt let-down. The job posting was so esoteric, she expected this whole experience to be quite the ordeal. If she didn’t get money, she’d at least have a story to tell. Discovering this was a temp agency made her feel safe, but she also anticipated it going like any other temp interview or recruitment company, she’d hand over her resume, explain her skills, they’ll tell her they’ll keep her in mind and she’ll never hear from them again. She considered ditching the interview, but just as she was ready to get up, someone called her name.
“Dana Higgins? You’re my 3:00, yes?” An incredibly tall woman in a light pink suit studied her face, a clipboard in her hand. Dana immediately recognized her voice, it was the person she spoke with on the phone yesterday.
“Come on in,” the woman led Dana into her office.
“So, if you’re ready, you can start in an hour from now.” The woman said as she read over paperwork at her desk. From the nameplate on her desk, Dana surmised that this woman was the namesake of the company.
“Pardon?” Dana was taken aback. “You haven’t actually told me what this job is?”
“Those details are inconsequential,” Ms. Ester replied, looking up at Dana over her glasses. “Here’s the most important question: do you need money?”
“Y-yes,” Dana stammered.
“Are you willing to do whatever it takes right now to make that money?” Ester pressed.
“Well yes, but within reason. And with at least some knowledge of what exactly it is I’ll be doing…”
“Don’t worry, all of that will be explained when you get there. Now this work might not be for everyone, but I can promise you that it’s not illegal, not indecent, not dangerous, and not embarrassing in any way. So, what do you say? And, more importantly, are you hungry?”
Dana couldn’t believe that she was about to say yes.
Dana stared up at the imposing black house that awaited her on top of the hill. Her stomach grumbled and she placed her hand gently over it. She wasn’t sure if it was out of hunger or worry, as it finally started to hit her that she might be in over her head. All Ms. Ester told her was that she needed to wear black, not eat before her appointment, and have an open mind. She assured her it was safe but who really was Ms. Ester to give those assurances?
She also knew she’d be rewarded handsomely for whatever was to come, which is what allowed her to cast her fears aside and cross the threshold into the dimly-lit house.
Making her way through the hallway she could hear muffled voices coming from the parlor. Suddenly, on hearing her footsteps, someone meekly called out to her:
“Are you here from the agency?”
Dana assumed they must have meant the temp agency, so she responded, her voice cracking, “Y-yes.”
“Come in here.”
Dana stepped into the parlor to find a group of five women, all dressed in black. Mourning clothes. There was no doubt about it, this was a funeral. The women spread apart to unveil the coffin behind them.
“We don’t know his name,” one woman explained.
“We have no clue if he has any family,” another went on.
“We trust you don’t know him either, correct?” Yet another asked.
Dana approached the coffin and studied the man’s face. She had never seen him before in her life. She shook her head no.
“Excellent,” another said, as she presented a wooden platter that had placed upon it a loaf of bread and a pint of beer. Carefully, she set the platter atop the body of the deceased. She looked up at Dana and nodded towards the corpse. Dana met eyes with the other women who all stared at her, expectantly. Dana studied their facial expressions as she ripped off a piece of the bread and placed it into her mouth, chewing slowly, deliberately. They watched her as she finished every last bite before picking up the pint and drinking from it. Amber ale was far from her favorite, but she assumed there was likely no craft list to choose from.
She placed the pint glass down and the women stared at what she had left behind. The women watched her and waited for her next move. Dana realized it was a sign to finish the loaf and the beer and silently cursed at herself for going keto just a few days earlier. Upon finishing everything, one of the women quickly remove the platter and ushered her out of the parlor.
“Your services here are done,” she said, leading Dana out the front door.
“But my payment!” Dana exclaimed.
“The agency will take care of that,” the woman said before slamming the door in her face. Bewildered, Dana backed away and, feeling an immeasurable sense of dread creep upon her, quickened her pace to a run leaving the house behind.
“And how are you feeling today?” Ms. Ester said in her shrill tone over the phone.
“Fine I—uh, guess?” Dana replied.
"Oh? Fine? Really?” Ester replied with a disappointed tone.
“Well, if I’m being completely honest,” Dana said, and she was, “I feel like people have been avoiding me. Treating me differently. I don’t understand it but ever since I left that house it seems like people can sense something about me… something, bad, but I myself don’t feel any different.”
“Ah. Then your payment will be on its way to you now. Thank you for your services!” Ester said before hanging up.
Dana didn’t know what to say. She had never even given them her bank account number or any personal info. She felt like something was wrong, something evil had happened, she didn’t know how else to explain it. She looked up S.N. ESTER, INC. online to file a complaint with the Better Business Bureau but there was nothing about it to be found. A Google search brought up 0 results. It was like it never even existed.
But when $7,777 dollars mysteriously wound up in Dana’s bank account, she figured it was better to not ask any more questions.