My eerie tale commences with my aunt and me embarking on the journey of starting our own office cleaning business. We took on subcontract work that we thought would be temporary but ended up being a lingering presence. Unfortunately, my partner in this endeavor, Debbie, had to part ways due to familial obligations. The place where we worked had three sprawling levels, presenting us with a significant cleaning job that demanded 4.5 hours of our evenings, five nights a week.
In the beginning, while Debbie was still with me, not much out of the ordinary occurred, except for her frequently inquiring what I wanted, as if I had called her when I hadn’t. I repeatedly clarified that I hadn’t summoned her and had no idea what she was talking about. This strange behavior persisted for several months, but I didn’t pay much heed to it, attributing it to her eccentricities. However, once Debbie departed, and I enlisted another pair of hands to share the workload, things began to take an eerie turn.
One fateful night, as we ventured to the second level of the building, a noxious odor emanated from the kitchen in the common area, quickly pervading the entire floor. Despite the unpleasant scent, we soldiered on into the main office we were tasked with cleaning. While we emptied wastepaper bins, a rattling sound emanated from the double glass doors. I initially brushed it off, assuming it was just someone entering the office across the hall. However, the sound recurred minutes later, prompting us to investigate. To our dismay, we found no one in sight, and an unsettling fear washed over both of us.
This mysterious rattling occurred again, and we hurried downstairs to the first level, where we decided to remain in each other’s company. Together, we tackled the bathrooms, kitchens, and every nook and cranny. However, a bizarre occurrence unfolded. I had left our key set, comprising about ten keys, on a table just inside the main glass doors. Yet, when we returned to retrieve them, they had vanished without a trace. Panic set in, as we scoured the premises in vain. Fearing for our safety, we called security for an escort to our cars that night.
The following day, the keys mysteriously reappeared in the men’s restroom, the very first place we had searched. Over time, a slew of other inexplicable events unfolded, including the vanishing and reappearance of cleaning chemicals, phones playing the radio by themselves, and odd occurrences with light switches.
However, the most unnerving incident transpired last night. My coworker, Jodee, called me about thirty minutes before my arrival, recounting that she had heard a woman’s voice say “Hi,” despite being alone in the building. Terrified, I advised her to stay downstairs until I arrived, accompanied by my uncle, who occasionally lent a hand. Together, we ventured back upstairs, where nothing untoward happened—until later.
After a brief hiatus, I went down in the elevator with Jodee to help with some rubbish, leaving her behind while I retrieved Kerry, another coworker, and tended to alarms and other tasks. Upon exiting the elevator, I found the vacuum cleaner but no trace of Kerry. That’s when I heard laughter from behind me on my left. I swiftly turned, only to find an empty corridor. Moments later, Kerry emerged from the glass doors on my right, denying any involvement in the laughter.
As we returned to the elevator to pack our cleaning supplies, the fear lurking in the shadows unveiled itself. There were four of us in the elevator, not three. It was but a fleeting glimpse, yet it sent shivers down my spine like never before. I remained silent until we reached the ground floor, believing we were safe in our cleaning room. However, our sanctuary soon transformed into a chamber of terror. While we sat at a table, Jodee began to panic over a flickering light. As we all gazed upward, we were met with the sight of an entire tube light, suspended from chains, swaying mysteriously. Kerry tried to stabilize it, and we experimented with the door, but nothing we did, aside from manually pushing the light, could recreate its eerie dance.
Today, I tendered my resignation, deciding to complete the month but vowing never to set foot in that office again. The fear of the unseen has never been so potent in my life.