Chapter 1

The box arrived on a Tuesday. It was damp from the morning rain and smelled faintly of iron. My name, Ethan Miller, was written on top in Liam' s familiar, messy handwriting.

I sliced through the packing tape. Inside, nestled in a bed of wood shavings, was a vacuum-sealed plastic bag. And inside the bag were bones.

They were pale, curved, and unmistakably ribs. Human ribs.

My stomach turned. I almost dropped the box.

A folded note was tucked into the side. I picked it up with shaking fingers.

"Ethan, HUGE favor. This is from my weight loss surgery. Weird, I know, but the doc said it' s a new holistic thing. You have to make a bone broth with these. Simmer for 6 hours. Film yourself drinking a cup of it and send it to me. It' s for, like, spiritual closure or something. I' ll explain later. Owe you big time. – Liam"

Weight loss surgery? Liam was as thin as a rail. It made no sense. This was sick. This was insane.

I shoved the box onto the kitchen counter, as far away from me as possible. I had to tell someone. But who? "Hey, my college buddy sent me his ribs and wants me to make soup." They' d think I was the crazy one.

So I did what any confused and horrified person in the 21st century would do. I took a blurry photo of the note and the package and posted it on a niche online forum, a place for weird stories and unsolved mysteries.

"My friend sent me this," I typed. "He wants me to make soup. He' s always been eccentric, but this feels... wrong. What should I do?"

The responses came fast. Most were jokes.

"Bro, your friend is a cannibal."

"10/10 would not recommend that soup."

"Is your friend' s name Hannibal?"

I scrolled through the useless comments, feeling my anxiety spike. My phone buzzed again. It was a private message from a user with no post history, just a string of random numbers for a name.

The message was one short, chilling sentence.

"It' s a ritual. Soul Swap. They' re trying to take your body. DON' T DO IT."

A cold feeling spread through my chest. Soul Swap? It sounded like something out of a bad horror movie. But Liam' s request was so bizarre, so specific, that the insane explanation felt more plausible than his flimsy excuse about weight loss surgery.

I had to get the ribs out of my apartment. But I couldn' t just throw them in the trash. What if someone found them?

An idea formed. It was a long shot, but it was better than doing nothing. I remembered the local animal sanctuary my aunt ran on the edge of town. They had a large composting program and a feeding trough for the larger animals that was cleared out daily. It was discreet.

Before I left, I stopped at the butcher shop. I bought a rack of beef ribs, the thickest ones I could find. My plan was simple: I would make a fake soup with the beef bones, film it, and send the video to Liam. It was a stupid, desperate lie, but it was the only thing I could think of.

I drove to the sanctuary. The place was quiet, smelling of hay and damp earth. I found the big feeding trough behind the main barn. It was filled with a mash of grain and vegetable scraps for the sanctuary' s prized stud bull, a massive Charolais named Titan. He was known for being incredibly docile, a gentle giant.

I looked around. No one was watching. With a deep breath, I opened the box, ripped open the vacuum-sealed bag, and dumped the human ribs into the trough. I quickly covered them with grain.

My phone buzzed. It was a call from Liam.

"Hey, man! Did you get my package?" he asked, his voice unnaturally cheerful.

"Yeah, Liam. I got it," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Great! So you' ll do it, right? It' s really, really important, Ethan."

The desperation in his tone was new. It wasn't the usual Liam.

"I' m on it," I lied. "The soup is simmering right now."

"Awesome! You' re the best friend ever. Seriously. Send me that video as soon as you' re done."

He hung up. I stood there for a moment, my heart pounding. As I turned to leave, I saw Titan the bull lumbering over to the trough. He started to eat, his massive head lowered. A wave of guilt washed over me, but I pushed it down. They were just bones now. What harm could they do?

I spent the rest of the day feeling on edge. I went home, threw the beef ribs in a pot, and started simmering them. The smell filled my apartment, making me feel sick.

I kept thinking about that anonymous message. Soul Swap.

Later that evening, my girlfriend, Sarah, let herself in.

"Hey, you," she said, kissing me. "What' s that smell? Smells good."

"Just some bone broth," I said, trying to sound casual.

She walked over to the stove and lifted the lid. "Oh, nice. I love bone broth. It' s so good for you. You should have some."

Her interest felt... strange. A little too intense.

"Maybe later," I said.

My phone rang. It was Liam again. I ignored it. He called back immediately. And again. The ringing felt like an accusation.

I finally answered, putting him on speaker.

"Ethan! It' s been hours! Is it ready?" he demanded.

"Almost," I said. "These things take time."

Sarah looked at me, a curious smile on her face. "Who' s that?"

"Just Liam," I said.

"Tell him hi for me," she said, still looking at the pot.

On the phone, Liam' s voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "Don' t mess this up, Ethan. You have to drink it. All of it."

He hung up. The cheerful act was gone, replaced by a raw, ugly demand. I looked at the simmering pot, then at Sarah, who was still smiling.

Something wasn' t right. Liam' s story about surgery, his desperation, Sarah' s sudden interest in my soup. A knot of suspicion tightened in my gut. He said the doctor told him to do this, but no doctor would ever suggest something so insane. The lie was obvious now, and I felt stupid for not seeing it sooner.

I pulled out my phone and went back to the forum. I had a new message from the same anonymous user.

"They know you' re thinking of tricking them. The vessel must consume the offering willingly. If you fake it, they will know. The consequences will be worse. Be careful who you trust. Even those closest to you."

My blood ran cold. I looked over at Sarah, who was now humming to herself as she stirred my pot of fake soup.