I found a USB flash drive inside a regular sausage. At first, I thought it ended up there by accident — until I saw what was on it.

Yesterday, I bought an ordinary sausage at the store — nothing special, just a quick option for sandwiches. At home, I sliced a few pieces, ate some, and put the rest in the fridge. Everything seemed perfectly normal. 🤔

The next morning, while making breakfast, I took out the same sausage, picked up a knife, and started cutting — but the blade suddenly met resistance. The sausage felt… wrong. Denser. Almost like something was lodged inside.

I figured it had frozen somehow. But when I made a second slice, the knife hit something hard again. This time, I stopped. I leaned in and looked closely.

And then I froze.

There was something shiny buried inside the meat. 😱

At first, I thought it was a piece of metal, maybe from a machine. But when I dug it out carefully, my stomach dropped.

It was a USB flash drive.
A completely ordinary one, a few gigabytes, nothing unusual… except that it had been baked — or stuffed — into my food. 😲

My mind raced. How did this get inside a sealed, factory-made sausage? Who could’ve put it there? Why?

A wave of nausea hit me. I’d already eaten slices from that thing.

But curiosity won out.

I plugged the USB into my laptop.

And the moment the screen loaded, my blood turned to ice.

On it, there was one single folder. No name. No date. Just a black icon.

I hesitated for a second.

Then I opened it.

The Folder

Inside the folder were twenty-seven video files, each labeled only by a timestamp. No titles. No hints. Just dates — all from the last six months.

I clicked the first one.

The screen lit up with a dirty, dimly lit room — concrete walls, a single overhead bulb flickering. The image was shaky, like it was filmed with a hidden camera.

Then a man entered the frame. He was tied to a chair. Bruised. Terrified.

And somewhere behind the camera, a voice whispered:

“Name your supplier.”

I slammed the laptop shut.

My heart pounded so loudly I thought the neighbors would hear. I couldn’t breathe.

What the hell had I just watched?

I stared at the sausage on the counter. Suddenly it didn’t look like food anymore. It looked like a message.

Or a warning.

But why me?

I reopened the laptop, my hands shaking, and played the second video.

This time, the man from the first video was gone. Instead, the camera focused on a table. On it was… meat.

A large slab. Raw. Fresh.

Someone wearing plastic gloves sliced it open with a long knife — and then, casually, almost methodically, inserted a USB drive.

My entire body went cold.

This wasn’t an accident.

It was intentional.

Someone was smuggling information inside food products.

And somehow, I had bought one of the packages meant for someone else.

The Third Video

Against my better judgment, I clicked video #3.

The camera pointed at a factory line. Workers in hairnets and gloves moved products along a conveyor belt. It was definitely a food production plant.

Suddenly, a figure in a dark hoodie appeared on screen. He slipped something from his sleeve — a flash drive — and stuffed it into one of the sausages before sealing it.

Then he looked up.

Straight into the camera.

His face was obscured… but his eyes were unmistakable. Cold. Sharp. Focused.

And then he said:

“If you’re seeing this, you bought the wrong one.”

I slammed the lid shut again.

Now it wasn’t just fear — it was pure panic.

What did that mean?

Were they watching me?

Did they know where the flash drive ended up?

The Knock at the Door

I tried to calm down. Maybe this was some elaborate prank. Maybe the videos were staged. Maybe—

BANG. BANG. BANG.

A sudden knock at my apartment door made me jump so hard I nearly dropped the laptop.

Not a polite knock.
Not a neighborly one.

A pounding. Heavy. Urgent.

I stayed completely still.

Another knock — louder this time.

I tiptoed to the peephole.

A man in a uniform stood outside.

Police? Security? Delivery?

No.
Store employee.

I recognized the logo from the grocery store where I’d bought the sausage.

But the employee was sweating. Nervous. He kept glancing left and right down the hallway.

He knocked again.

“Sir,” he called softly. “Please… open the door.”

My heart thudded painfully.

How did he know I bought the sausage? Had they been tracking it? Scanning barcodes? Looking for the missing package?

I didn’t speak.

“Please,” he whispered, voice cracking. “You’re in danger.”

I Opened the Door an Inch

I kept the chain on.

“What do you want?” I asked.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice even more.

“That sausage you bought… it wasn’t supposed to be sold. They’re looking for it.”

“Who?” I hissed.

He shook his head. “I don’t know their names. But they’re coming. You have to give the drive back.”

“How do you even know I have it?”

“The factory called us early this morning. They said a ‘package’ was missing. They sent men to retrieve it. Dangerous men.”

I swallowed hard.

The man lifted his shirt slightly, revealing a bruise the size of a fist.

“They already came to the store,” he whispered. “Asking who bought what. They questioned us. They… they hurt us.”

I felt sick.

“How long until they come here?”

He looked terrified.

“They might already be on the way.”

The Decision

I rushed back to the kitchen and stared at the USB drive still plugged into my laptop.

I didn’t want anything to do with this.

I unplugged it, wrapped it in a napkin, and returned to the door.

“Here,” I said. “Take it.”

But the employee stepped back like it was radioactive.

“No,” he said. “You don’t understand. If I bring it back, they’ll assume I stole it.” His voice trembled. “They’ll kill me.”

I froze.

“So what am I supposed to do?”

He swallowed and whispered:

“Run.”

The Elevator Dings

At that exact moment, the elevator at the end of the hallway chimed.

The doors slid open.

Three men stepped out.

Black jackets. No expressions. Purposeful steps.

The employee’s face drained of color.

“Oh God,” he whispered. “It’s them.”