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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Supernatural · #1996014
My story about a very strange occurrence that took place at my office.
At the behest of my best friend Dan and a few others, I am finally putting pen to paper (electronically, of course) on the second scariest night of my life. 

In 2008 I was two years out of college and working at a small internet marketing firm in downtown Chicago.  The firm leased about half of the 7th floor in a very old building on La Salle Street.  According to the plaque on the front of the building it was built in 1899.  This was one of those places with the smallish, slightly arched windows that didn’t get too much outside light due to the surrounding skyscrapers. Numerous renovations have taken place over the years.  The elevators were old, but more 1980’s or ‘90’s old.  With some minor hiccups they ran fine, they just reminded me every time I got in them of how old the building was.  The whole place was wired - fluorescent lights and all -  to be a ‘modern’ (depends on your  definition…) office. 

I was working late on a Thursday night. I remember it was Thursday because I had to turn down a happy hour invite from some of the sales people and Thursday happy hours are usually the best.  It was towards the end of the third quarter and I was working on a budget approval for a customer support team.  It was the last thing I had to finish up before I could leave.  I wanted to get out of there with enough time to catch some Sports Center on DVR before I went to bed.  My cubicle was near the front corner of the floor (it was the second cube back).  I could usually see or hear anyone going in or out over the low rise cubicle walls.  I kept an incandescent light on my desk because I got sick of the fluorescent lighting after my first three months there.  At the time I owned a new iPhone 3 that I typically kept charging via plug into the computer.  Sometimes I’d listen to music, but most of the time I kept it off so I could focus on work. 

It was a little after 7 when I got up to take a piss and get some water.  I only had about 45 minutes of work left, but I needed to stretch my legs and adjust my bladder to a more comfortable level.  I went out to the bathroom, filled up my water bottle at the fountain, and then did a lap around the floor.  It was a small floor and took me less than a minute to make a loop around.  I glanced out the windows and I could see the orange halo around the streetlights and the cars driving up and down La Salle Street.  I went back to my desk to finish up work and, in the process of all this, confirmed that I was alone on the floor.

I was making some good progress when I heard a phone ringing from the back of the floor.  Sometimes that happens.  People call their work phone to check their voicemail or customers call because they are in another time zone.  No big deal.  What made this weird is that the voicemail never picked up.  I don’t know exactly how many rings (3? 4?) our phones give before the voicemail picks up, but this thing just kept going. It rang for well over a minute.  That same stupid Cisco ringtone (I changed mine, thank you 24, but most people didn’t).  I looked at my phone before to see what the time it was when I finally decided to go over there to unplug the damn thing.  My phone read 7:18 pm.  I walked over to the ringing phone and took the receiver off the cradle and then replaced it, hanging up.  When I walked back to my desk I couldn’t help but wonder who sits on a phone while it rings and rings for that long? 

A few minutes passed, I was back into the rhythm, checking the numbers in the budget, when my concentration was interrupted again by the same phone ringing.  I let it ring, but just like the first time, the voicemail didn’t pick up.  At this point I’m cursing Cisco up and down. ‘Fuck it’ I’m thinking, ‘This time I’m unplugging the damn thing.’ And I did. I went over there, reached behind the phone box and unhooked the phone cable.  I knew the guy who sat at the desk and I was writing him a Post-It note so he know what was up, when something walked past me.  Right then and there I could have shit myself.  Immediately I straightened up to see who just walked past. I didn’t hear the door slam, or footsteps, or anything.  I know something walked past because I could tell by the displacement of light from the overhead fluorescents. I left the note unfinished and started walking in the direction that the shadow had passed, looking side to side, from empty cube to empty cube.  I reached the end of the short row, but didn’t find anything.  I turned around to head back to finish the note. 

I was a little freaked out when I got back to my desk, but I talked myself down.  My ears were definitely perked up, listening for any sound.  I was thinking that I just wanted to finish up and get home for some Sports Center.  Thinking of the wide world of sports and the fans and the players made me feel less alone and I got back to work. 

Only a few minutes had passed and then came the stress ball.  I heard the sound of it bouncing three times on the floor, then it rolled and came to a stop directly in front of my cube.  ‘Oh Jesus.’ I turned my head to look at it.  Just a little stress ball with our company logo on it.  Sitting right there. Logo turned slightly away and down.  It sat there in the entryway to my cubicle. 

That was it for me.  I hit ‘Save’ on the budget and the Excel sheet.  I shuffled the papers I needed together in a stack and I closed my laptop.  The phone, the one that I unplugged,  crashed towards the back of the office. (I know it was the phone because I later spoke with the guy stationed in that cubicle).  I was midway through grabbing my shit when my phone started ringing.  ‘Fuck this. Nope. I’m not answering it,’ was my exact thought.  I stepped out of my cube to head to the door when ALL of the phones in the office started ringing.  I was taking big steps to the door and I was about four steps away when all of the fluorescent lights switched off.  My desk lamp stayed on, though.

I reached the door in the near dark and grabbed the handle to pull it open.  The handle moved, but I couldn’t open the door.  Something was holding it closed.  I turned around to see if there was anything behind me.  I looked at my desk and I could see the top of someone’s head as if they were sitting in my seat.  All of the phones on the floor stopped ringing just as suddenly as they started.  I froze in place.  The person at my desk stood up so that I could see his face and torso.  It was a man, probably in his mid 40’s.  He was wearing a dark three piece suit complete with white pocket square.  His shirt had a high collar with the corners under his chin folded down over his tie like a character from Boardwalk Empire.  His dark hair was slicked back with some grease and he had a thin, well manicured mustache.

He exited my cube, turned, and began walking towards me.  Someone else came running from behind the row of cubicles, probably from the desk with the phone that wouldn’t stop ringing, towards the man in the suit.  It was another man, though much younger, and not as meticulously dressed.  He was skinny and his suit was loose on him. The older man turned around and confronted the young man.  They had a silent conversation for a few moments.  I could clearly see that there was a look of concern on the younger man’s face. The older man reached both hands up to his meticulously groomed hair and pulled outwards at it. 

From where I was standing, about 20 feet away and frozen in place, I could see tears on the younger man’s face.  The old man took the younger man by his shoulders, looked him in the eye and told him something that I wasn’t able to hear.  He then calmly walked towards the window at the end of the floor, hoisted it up and turned towards the younger man.  I saw his lips moving as he said something, but I couldn’t hear what was being said.  The older man then turned, took a comb out of his pocket, fixed his hair and then slipped out of the window.  I could see his form standing on the ledge for a moment before he jumped. 

I was left standing in the office with the apparition of the young man standing before me. The young man turned from the window slowly.  He wore a look of complete shock on his face. Completely dazed, the young man walked over to my cubicle.  My desk lamp was still the only light in the office besides the orange glow of the street lights that made it’s way through the window.  The young man sat down at my desk.  I could still see the top of his head. Quietly and carefully I took a few steps towards my desk until I could just see over the cube. 

One of his hands was placed near his ear and the other was in front of his mouth as if holding an invisible microphone with an ear piece. The young man’s face was visibly disturbed as he silently spoke to someone on an invisible phone.  He hung up and sat for a moment. 

After a brief pause, he stood up and began walking towards the door.  With each passing step the young man grew thinner and older looking.  His clothes began to, seemingly, decay from his body.  Holes formed and the white color turned a sickly yellow with gray spots.  I stepped out of his way as he came towards me.  As he passed me on his way towards the door I got a good look at his face.  His face was gaunt and his cheekbones stood out. His eyes were sunk back in their sockets with dark circles around them, and his face bore lines of ageing, though he was still a young man. As he reached the door he turned and looked back at the office. He scanned the office and we made eye contact for a moment.  In his eyes I saw years of sadness and hardship. He turned away and walked out the door. 

I stood in my spot clutching my laptop and papers to my chest, frozen in place.  My fists were clenched around my laptop and my palms were sweaty.  Without warning the lights in the office turned back on and snapped me out of my trance.  I went to the door and opened it, this time with no problem.  Dazed, I walked to the elevator and took it down to the lobby. 

In the cab ride home I sent my boss a text telling him that I had just left work and was going to work from home on Friday. I did not watch Sports Center and I barely slept a that night. The whole while I kept replaying the scene that took place in my office.  Four days later, on September 16, 2008, the financial markets crashed marking the beginning of the Great Recession. 
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