MY CEO’S LAST EMAIL SAID “LOOK IN THE OLD SERVER ROOM” – WHY ME?
My hand trembled as I slid the old server room door open, the lock surprisingly easy, just like his email had said I’d find it. The air inside was thick and cold, smelling sharply of dust and something metallic, like old wiring. Why would Mr. Sterling tell *me* this, out of everyone? He died just hours after sending that cryptic message that simply said “go there, look for the blue box. Don’t tell anyone.”
Tucked behind a humming, ancient server rack in the back corner, partially hidden by thick cables, sat a small, dull blue metal box. My heart hammered against my ribs like a frantic bird trying to escape. This felt so wrong, sneaking in here after hours, doing something I knew no one else in the building knew about or would approve of. I fumbled with the stiff latch, my fingers surprisingly cold despite the tension making my palms sweat.
Inside wasn’t money or straightforward documents like I’d half-expected. It was just a small, encrypted drive and a single folded piece of paper, surprisingly crisp despite the dusty surroundings. I unfolded it slowly, carefully. My full name was typed on top, underlined twice in stark red ink. Below it, a short, urgent message: “They killed me. This proves it. The company is yours now, protect it. Trust no one.”
The words swam before my eyes, blurring into meaningless shapes for a second. Mine? How? I’m just an analyst here! The low, steady hum of the servers around me suddenly seemed deafening, a constant, menacing presence surrounding me. Just as I started to grasp the impossible weight of it, a distinct floorboard creaked loudly right outside the heavy metal door.
The file contained one sentence: “Destroy this before anyone sees.”
👇 Full story continued in the comments…The creak outside shattered the stillness, electrifying every nerve in my body. My head snapped towards the door, eyes wide. Someone was there. Now. My heart, already a drum solo against my ribs, ratcheted up another level. The note in my hand, the heavy little drive, the impossible words “They killed me” – it all became terrifyingly real, not some abstract mystery. I was caught.
Panic seized me. I fumbled the crisp paper, stuffing it awkwardly into the inner pocket of my jacket. The blue box felt like a lead weight. The encrypted drive… *This proves it*, he wrote. This was the key. I crammed the drive into the same pocket, the cold metal pressing against my chest. The box, now empty and useless, clattered softly as I shoved it back behind the server rack, hoping it would blend into the grime and shadows.
Footsteps shuffled closer, hesitant but unmistakable, then stopped right outside the heavy metal door. A hand fumbled with the outer handle. It didn’t turn – Mr. Sterling had said the lock was easy *from the inside*, implied for me to get in, not necessarily for others to get out or in easily *now*. But the person was trying.
My mind raced. Hide? Run? Through the main office? Impossible without being seen. There had to be another way out of this room, a maintenance exit, anything. My eyes darted around the claustrophobic space, lit only by the faint, pulsing lights of the old machines. Dust motes danced in the weak light filtering from cracks around the doorframe.
The handle rattled again, harder this time. Then, a voice, low and cautious, called out, “Hello? Is anyone in there?”
My blood ran cold. I recognised the voice. It was Mark, one of the senior VPs. Mr. Sterling’s trusted right-hand man, or so everyone thought. *Trust no one*, the note screamed in my memory. Was he one of “them”?
The handle rattled violently. “Open the door! I know someone’s in there!” Mark’s voice was sharper now, losing its feigned calm.
There. Along the back wall, partially obscured by another rack, was a small, rusted metal hatch, low to the ground. A maintenance tunnel? It was my only chance. I didn’t hesitate. Dropping to my hands and knees, ignoring the protests of my knees on the cold concrete, I scrabbled towards it. The hatch was stiff, years of neglect sealing it tight. I yanked, grunting with effort. It wouldn’t budge.
Behind me, the door shivered under a heavy impact. They weren’t just trying the handle anymore. They were going to break it down.
Adrenaline surged. I braced my feet against the server rack and pulled the hatch again with all my might. It scraped loudly against the frame, protesting, but gave way a few inches. Enough. I squeezed through the narrow opening, the smell of damp earth and stale air filling my nostrils. The darkness inside was absolute.
I pulled the hatch shut behind me as best I could, hearing the dull thud of it closing just as the main server room door crashed inwards behind me. Heavy footsteps thudded into the room I had just left, followed by Mark’s hissed voice. “Check everywhere! They couldn’t have gotten far!”
I crawled forward in the pitch black, guided only by instinct and the faint sounds echoing from the room behind me. The tunnel floor was uneven, gritty. I didn’t know where I was going, only that it was away. Away from the danger, away from the truth that was too big to comprehend. I had the drive, the note, and Mr. Sterling’s last, desperate trust. I was alone, hunted, and apparently, the new owner of a company that was worth killing for. The night was just beginning, and my life as I knew it was over.