MY BOSS HANDED ME A LIST AND SAID, “THEY’RE ALL GONE NOW”
He called me into his office, closed the blinds with a snap that echoed, and the air immediately felt thick and still. His face was pale under the harsh office light, his usual confident smile gone, replaced by a strange tension. He pushed a single sheet of paper across the desk towards me. The paper felt strangely cold in my hand, like it had been left somewhere exposed.
I looked down. It was a list of names I knew well – colleagues, people who’d left the company over the last year, some suddenly. I felt a wave of profound confusion and dread wash over me as I read them. He leaned in close across the desk and whispered, “These names… they weren’t layoffs, not really. Something else entirely happened to them.”
A deep, internal chill went down my spine, despite the warm room temperature of the office. I looked at the names again, the ink dark and stark on the white paper, recognizing half of them and feeling a knot tighten painfully in my stomach. A phone buzzed loudly and persistently on his desk beside a stack of files, vibrating against the wood surface.
He didn’t even glance at the buzzing phone. His eyes were wide, darting nervously towards the closed door, his hands trembling slightly. He opened his mouth as if to share more, but then the office door swung open without a knock, revealing the hallway light.
Standing there was the new department head, smiling, but her eyes were fixed on the list in my hand.
👇 Full story continued in the comments…(Continued)
The new department head, whose name I now vaguely remembered as Ms. Albright, didn’t move beyond the doorway. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes; they were cold, assessing, and focused solely on the sheet of paper still clutched in my trembling hand.
“Is everything alright in here, Alan?” she asked, her voice smooth and calm, a stark contrast to the frantic energy in the room moments before. She addressed the boss, Alan, but her gaze remained on me and the list.
Alan flinched, visibly shrinking back into his chair. The color drained even further from his face. He stammered, “Yes, yes, everything’s fine, Melanie. Just… just catching [Protagonist’s Name] up on a few things.”
Ms. Albright took a slow step into the office, the door swinging shut behind her with a soft click that felt unnervingly final. “Catching them up?” she echoed, her tone suggesting pleasant curiosity, but her eyes held a sharp, knowing glint. She extended a hand, palm up. “May I see that list, please? Just curious about the context.”
My hand tightened involuntarily around the paper. The coldness seemed to emanate from it now, or perhaps from the sudden presence of Ms. Albright. I glanced at Alan, who was now looking not at me, but at Ms. Albright with a look of absolute terror, silently pleading with me through his expression. The buzzing phone on his desk stopped as suddenly as it had started.
“It’s just… a list of former employees,” I managed to say, my voice sounding thin and reedy in the suddenly silent room.
Ms. Albright’s smile widened slightly. “Yes, I gathered that. But given Alan’s… rather dramatic introduction, I’d like to see *which* former employees. For HR purposes, of course. We like to keep track.”
Her politeness felt more like a threat. Alan was frozen, unable to speak or intervene. I knew, instinctively, that handing over the list was dangerous, perhaps for me, certainly for Alan, and maybe even connected to whatever happened to the people on it. But refusing Ms. Albright felt impossible. Her presence filled the room, radiating an authority that wasn’t just managerial.
Before I could decide, Ms. Albright took another step forward, her movement swift and unexpected. Her hand shot out and plucked the list from my grasp before I could react. Her fingers brushed mine, and for a fleeting second, I felt an intense, static-like coldness, far colder than the paper itself.
She smoothly withdrew the list, her eyes scanning it quickly. The pleasant smile vanished, replaced by a look of cool, detached analysis. She folded the paper precisely in half, then in quarters, and tucked it into the pocket of her tailored blazer.
“Ah, yes,” she said, her voice losing its feigned lightness. “This list. Thank you for showing it to me, [Protagonist’s Name]. Alan, you really should have consulted me before bringing this up. Some topics are… sensitive. And best handled through the proper channels.”
She turned her gaze back to Alan, her eyes narrowed slightly. He looked away, defeated.
Then she looked back at me, her expression softening slightly, though the coldness remained in her eyes. “As for these employees, [Protagonist’s Name],” she said, her voice returning to its smooth tone, “they were indeed gone. Not laid off, as Alan correctly noted, but… reassigned. To a project off-site. A long-term, highly confidential project. Their skills were needed elsewhere. It required a complete transition, you see. New identities, no contact with the outside world. It’s a significant commitment, but very important work for the company’s future.”
She paused, letting the implications sink in. “Alan is just being dramatic. There was nothing nefarious involved. Simply… an extreme HR measure for extreme circumstances.” She gave a brief, humourless laugh. “He worried he’d scared you unnecessarily. Consider the air cleared.”
My mind reeled. “Reassigned? New identities?” It sounded less like a project and more like an elaborate disappearance. And the fear in Alan’s eyes, the way he’d described them being “gone”… it didn’t fit this explanation at all.
Ms. Albright’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Precisely. Top-secret, of course. Which is why it’s crucial this list, and our little conversation, remain strictly confidential. Any… speculation or discussion about these former colleagues would be seen as a serious breach of confidentiality. For your own career’s sake, I trust you understand.”
Her gaze was unwavering. It was a clear threat, masked by corporate language. Alan remained silent, watching us with wide, haunted eyes. The room felt colder now, despite the earlier warmth. The list was gone, taken by the very person who seemed connected to their disappearance.
Ms. Albright nodded, a curt, final gesture. “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Alan and I have some follow-up to discuss regarding… sensitive personnel matters.” She gestured subtly towards the door with her head. “You may return to your work, [Protagonist’s Name].”
It was a dismissal. My legs felt wobbly as I stood up. I couldn’t speak, could only nod numbly. I backed away towards the open door, my eyes darting between Alan’s terrified face and Ms. Albright’s composed, chillingly serene expression.
As I reached the threshold and stepped out, I heard Ms. Albright’s voice, lower now, directed at Alan. “We need to address your… loose lips, Alan. And ensure there are no other copies of that list. Or any further ‘confessions’.”
The door clicked shut behind me, plunging me back into the brighter, but now infinitely more unsettling, hallway. The silence was deafening. I stood there for a moment, the chilling cold from Ms. Albright’s touch still lingering on my hand, the list of names burned into my memory. They weren’t just gone from the company. They were gone, period, erased by something the company, or perhaps Ms. Albright herself, controlled. And I had just become privy to the secret. The next name on a potential list could very well be mine if I didn’t act, or if I chose to speak. The office building suddenly felt like a cage, and the people on the list, like ghosts warning me from within the walls.