Here’s the thing, you’re not actually a gullible fool of an idiot.
So, when ‘Unknown’ gives you some bullshit ‘religious’ reason as to why the address absolutely must be gone to, why the owner of the mysterious phone he has must be found, you scoff and ask him for a better excuse because you’re an atheist. When the new excuse he comes up with is that it’s a surprise for his girlfriend, you call him out on that bull as well. You tell him to lie better, lie smarter, and to your surprise, he does.
He says he just wanted to play a prank on his friend, freaking them out a bit by sending a stranger over to their house with a ‘mysterious’ message.
You go to the house because improvement like that should be rewarded. Honestly, the lies before were so incredibly shitty. The prank thing isn’t that good either but it’s a vast improvement over ‘My religion made me do it’ and ‘I wanted to give my girlfriend an awesome surprise’. So you go to the house and he tells you to input the password and leave the note there on the desk where it can be seen obviously so that his friend freaks out, thinking someone managed to break into his house. You send a mental pat to ‘Unknown’ for continuing with the facade, consistency in lying is key to being believed.
But, again, you’re not a gullible idiot. So when he sends you the passcode, you type it in really quickly, making sure to get it wrong knowing it would send an alarm to whoever lived there and get their attention.
It works a bit too well. A red light and alarm blares and even as you stand there in full view of the camera mounted to the top that suddenly switches on and swivels to look at you, you hear a stream of swearing from nearby, accompanied by thumping footsteps leading away from where you were. On your phone you type out your real number on a note along with a request to call on it and raise it to the camera.
Your phone rings and you pick it up, “And who might this little spider be, walking into my web?” asks a playful voice but you can hear keys clicking loudly in the background of the call, as if the person typing is furious and taking it out on the keyboard.
“I found this dating app on the app store and when I opened it, someone named Unknown bullshitted about finding a phone in a subway with this messenger, being unable to find the person the phone belonged to and asked me to go to the address and input the password info that was on the phone he found. The passcode he gave me was *****, I put it in wrong on purpose so you’d get warned. I think that person was nearby and watching me do all this because I could hear random swearing when I ‘fucked up’. You might want to check with the building security to find out who that person was. See ya.”
You began to walk away from the door but were stopped when the person on the phone let out loud exclamations against it. “No, no, no, you can’t leave, this is a very sensitive situation and -”
“I don’t care.” You cut the call and return back to your apartment which has the greatest security in the world. No ultra modern locks that need passwords or anything but a squeaky floorboard outside your apartment, a couple of rusty deadbolts that screech bloody murder when opened, no other points of entry like windows because ventilation is overrated and expensive.
The real security risk is the paper thin walls collapsing which is pretty ludicrous and you laugh at the thought.
(And forgo your atheistic values for a few moments to pray fervently that it doesn’t actually happen.)
And you sleep.
You wake up, barely minutes after falling asleep to find your phone buzzing with notifications.
That stupid app was the source of all your troubles. You were pretty sure you uninstalled it but this RFA thing was like a cockroach in that it just wouldn’t die. You open it to see a myriad of messages, starting off cute and cuddly, a friend group talking about ridiculous shit until it takes a turn when one of them talks about the events of the day with her going to that place, and then chaos ensues. Apparently the person who owned that apartment was some woman named Rika, a woman who sounded like she had serious trust issues given no one knew her address except for people involved with paying for it or with the security. You understand secrecy as well as the next person but you felt safest when your friends came over and drank themselves into a stupor, you can’t fathom someone knowing and loving all these people and not letting them know where they lived.
Your thoughts come to a halt as it becomes obvious that this Rika is dead.
Speak no ill of the dead, right?
Eh, you’ve never believed in that anyway. Just because someone is dead, doesn’t mean they didn’t make mistakes when alive.
When they realise you’re still there and reading their messages to one another they freak out again and your patience reaches its end.
“Go to sleep you little shits” You type out and without checking to see how they take the message you turn your phone off and go back to sleep.
In your dreams a pretty blonde girl is there, talking about heaven and religion. You punch her in the face and the floaty sweet world turns into an WWE style fighting ring, complete with audience.
Lost in your dreams, newly of broken teeth and black eyes, you smile.