I UNLOCKED THE OFFICE CLOSET AND SAW THE BOX WITH HIS NAME ON IT
It was nearly 8 PM and the office was quiet except for the hum of the servers when I saw the faint light under the door.
I knew that closet was supposed to be empty, just old cleaning supplies. I rattled the handle, but it was locked tighter than usual. My hands fumbled for the spare key I kept hidden in the base of my desk lamp.
Inside, the air was thick with the smell of old paper and a strange, metallic scent. The single bare bulb hanging overhead cast long, twitching shadows. There, tucked under a faded blue tarp in the corner, was a heavy, dark wood box with Mr. Abernathy’s name taped on the front.
My hands trembled as I pried the lid open. Inside weren’t supplies, but stacks of ledgers and thick envelopes. One letter at the top had my coworker Sarah’s name on it, dated last week. “He wouldn’t… he couldn’t be doing this,” I whispered to myself, feeling a sudden dread grip my chest.
A floorboard creaked sharply right outside the closet door. I froze, dropping the heavy lid with a loud thud onto the box. The overhead light flickered.
A voice I didn’t recognize said softly, “You shouldn’t be here.”
👇 Full story continued in the comments…I stumbled back, heart leaping into my throat. The shadows seemed to coil and lengthen around the single swaying bulb. A figure emerged from the darker part of the hallway, silhouetted against the faint light from the emergency exit sign down the corridor. It was Mark, the quiet IT guy, the one who always had his head down, fixing printers and muttering about network issues. He looked nothing like himself now, his face pale and drawn, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and urgency.
“Mark?” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper.
“Get out of there,” he said, his voice strained, low. He glanced quickly down the hallway, then back at me, his gaze intense. “Close it. Quickly.”
My hands were still shaking, but I fumbled with the heavy wooden lid. The metallic scent seemed stronger now, sharper. I slammed the lid back down onto the box with another muffled thud, then shoved it clumsily back under the tarp.
Mark stepped into the closet with me, the cramped space feeling even smaller now. He reached past me, fumbling for the lock on the outside of the door. “You shouldn’t have been in here,” he repeated, his voice a frantic whisper. “Did you… did you see anything?”
“I… I saw a box,” I managed, my breath catching in my chest. “With Mr. Abernathy’s name. Ledgers. A letter…”
He flinched at the mention of the letter. “Forget what you saw,” he said, his eyes fixed on mine, pleading. “Forget this whole thing. This closet is empty. You were just… checking the light bulb.”
“Mark, what is going on? What’s in that box? And Sarah’s letter…?”
He grabbed my arm, his grip surprisingly strong. “Listen to me. Abernathy… he’s not what he seems. That box… it’s proof. Proof of things that could ruin him. And others.” He hesitated, his gaze flicking to the tarp. “Sarah… she found something out. Or he *thought* she did. Just leave it, please. For your own good.”
A floorboard creaked again, closer this time. Mark’s head snapped towards the door, his eyes wide with alarm. “Someone’s coming,” he breathed, his voice tight with panic. He shoved me gently towards the door opening. “Go! Now! Go out the back exit. Don’t look back. Don’t say a word to anyone.”
He fumbled with the lock again, quickly securing it from the outside just as footsteps approached the closet door. I stumbled out into the quiet hallway, the adrenaline coursing through me. I heard Mark’s voice, sounding remarkably normal, though a little shaky, calling out, “Oh, hey, security! Just checking the lighting circuit, seems fine. Looks like someone left this closet open. I’ll lock it up.”
I didn’t wait to hear the response. My legs carried me quickly and silently down the hallway, away from the voices, towards the dimly lit emergency exit at the back. The air outside was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the thick, charged atmosphere inside the office. I leaned against the brick wall, gasping for air, the image of Abernathy’s name on the box, the piles of ledgers, and Sarah’s name on the letter burned into my mind. Mark knew. He was involved, trying to protect something, or someone. Maybe even me.
I looked back at the dark building, the faint glow of office lights like distant stars. I had unlocked a door tonight, but I had also opened a Pandora’s Box. The quiet office was hiding a dangerous secret, and now, whether I wanted to be or not, I was a part of it. The night was just beginning.