MY BOSS LEFT ME A SINGLE RED BOOK BEFORE HE JUMPED OFF THE ROOF
The security guard led me through the yellow tape to his empty office, the air thick with that cloying, chemical disinfectant smell, the silence in the usually bustling hallway deafening. Everything personal was gone, wiped clean, but there on the bare metal desk, centered like it was waiting just for me, was one single thing – a small, red leather-bound book.
I hesitated for a long moment, my hand trembling slightly as I reached for the cool, worn leather cover. It felt ancient, somehow heavier than it looked, dense with secrets. Definitely older than anything else in this sleek, modern building, smelling faintly of dust and old paper.
Opening it revealed not pages of writing, but meticulously pasted clippings from old newspapers, strange quotes underlined in jarring blue ink, and weird symbols drawn in the margins. Was it a code? A loose, brittle piece of paper fluttered out. It had my name on it, and under that, in his shaky script: “They think it was an accident, but they are coming for you next.”
My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo. He knew? He was trying to warn me before… before what? A cold dread washed over me, chilling me to the bone despite the stuffy office air. The loud click of the outer office door slamming shut echoed down the silent hall. Footsteps, slow and deliberate, were coming closer.
The footsteps stopped right outside the door, and I heard a low voice whisper my name.
👇 Full story continued in the comments…The door creaked open, revealing not the burly security guard, but Ken from IT. Ken. Quiet, unassuming Ken with his pocket protector and perpetually hunched shoulders. But this wasn’t the Ken I knew. His eyes were wide, unnaturally so, fixed and cold, and a thin, unnatural smile stretched across his lips. He looked less like a man and more like a mask.
“Found it?” he whispered again, his voice devoid of any warmth, any Ken-like inflection. It was flat, mechanical.
My grip tightened on the red book, the ancient leather suddenly feeling less like a clue and more like a live wire. I backed away instinctively, bumping into the boss’s sterile desk. The office felt impossibly small now.
Ken stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him with chilling finality. He didn’t move quickly, but his movements were disturbingly precise, like a predator stalking trapped prey. “He shouldn’t have kept it,” Ken said, tilting his head slightly. “He shouldn’t have thought he could hide it. Or leave it.”
“Leave what?” I managed, my voice a tremor. “What are you talking about, Ken?”
“The information,” he replied, that unnerving smile widening fractionally. “The truth. It’s in the book. He knew we were coming for him. He thought leaving it for you… would make a difference.”
‘We’? He confirmed it. Ken wasn’t just here; he was one of ‘them’. The cold dread intensified, wrapping around my chest. “Who… who are you?”
“We are… necessary,” Ken said, taking another slow step closer. “We ensure order. Silence disruptions. Your boss was a disruption. And now, you have the disruption.” His eyes flicked down to the book.
I knew then. The warning wasn’t about something abstract; it was about this moment, this man who wasn’t Ken. They didn’t just want the book; they wanted me silenced too, a loose end tied.
Panic flared, hot and sharp. I was trapped. Ken was between me and the door. I looked around frantically, searching for anything – a weapon, a way out. The bare office offered nothing.
Ken was closing in, his hand slowly extending. “Give it to me,” he commanded, the whisper replaced by a low, resonant tone that vibrated in the air.
In a desperate surge of adrenaline, I looked at the book. The strange symbols in the margin, the underlined words… they pulsed with a terrifying significance. It was the key, the burden, the target.
As Ken lunged, I didn’t throw the book. Instead, I grabbed the heavy metal stapler from the desk corner and hurled it with all my strength at his face.
There was a clatter, a surprised gasp from Ken, and a momentary flinch. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. I didn’t hesitate. I bolted.
I sprinted past the momentarily stunned Ken, wrenched the office door open, and burst into the deserted corridor. The silence was broken only by my pounding heart and the sound of Ken stumbling behind me.
Down the hall I ran, the red book clutched tight, towards the stairwell at the end. My breath hitched as I heard footsteps resume behind me, faster now. Ken was recovering.
I threw open the stairwell door and plunged down the steps, two, three at a time, the sound echoing in the concrete shaft. I could hear Ken entering the stairwell above, his footsteps heavy and relentless.
Three floors down, I burst into the ground floor lobby. The security guard was still at his desk, looking up towards the stairwell landing as I emerged. His expression was blank, unreadable.
He wasn’t surprised to see me running, or the footsteps pounding down behind me. He simply rose slowly from his chair, his eyes meeting mine, and took two steps to block the main glass doors.
“Nowhere to go,” the guard said, his voice flat, echoing Ken’s earlier tone.
I spun around. Ken was descending the last flight of stairs, his unnerving smile back in place. I was trapped between them. The building was a cage.
But as Ken and the guard closed in, I looked down at the book in my hand. It wasn’t just evidence or a warning. It was what they feared. If they wanted it this badly, maybe keeping it hidden wasn’t the point. Maybe the point was making sure *someone else knew*.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I lifted the book. The chase was over for now, but the fight had just begun. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of taking it, or me, quietly. Whatever secrets were in these pages, they were my only hope now. My only weapon.