HELP! WANTED: Tales of On-the-Job Terror

by Edited by Peter Giglio

  Deadline

  Matt Kurtz

  Sydney watched from the darkness as a zombie lumbered across the shadowy street to chase the vampire. She clicked the pause button on the viewer and shuffled the footage back a few frames to trim her edit.

  Alone in the advertising office, she was burning the midnight oil while huddled around her computer in the dimly lit editing suite. The raw footage of the undead monsters had been delivered earlier that day to be assembled for a local costume shop’s Halloween commercial. Unfortunately for her, the person who shot the original footage had no concept of editing, let alone filmmaking. What she had put together so far was nothing but a series of jarring edits—known in her industry as jump cuts—that would completely confuse the viewer as to what was taking place onscreen.

  And to make matters worse, her deadline was approaching fast—nine hours and counting. Since the client’s Halloween sale was only a few days away, they were paying extra to expedite the production and Sydney promised that it would be edited and delivered for their approval first thing in the morning.

  With her foot tapping a mile a minute, she exhaled and leaned back in her chair. Although she had quit smoking cold turkey (six weeks, two days, twelve hours, and forty-eight…forty-nine…fifty seconds ago), she could’ve really gone for one at that moment. It always got her creative juices flowing whenever she hit a road block. But, even if she hadn’t quit, she still would have been too afraid to step outside the office to burn one off since the building wasn’t located in the best part of town. During the daytime, when the guys were all there, the place wasn’t bad. But after hours, the office was downright spooky. Her boss was extremely apprehensive of her staying alone after dark even with her assurance that she would be just fine. He knew that the commercial had to get done and she reminded him that the client was depending on them. She was hoping to rack up enough of these “take one for the team” jobs to ask for a substantial raise (especially since money was about to get real tight in the near future). But presently, she wasn’t afraid to admit that being the only living soul in such a large place made her a little jittery.

  Once a doctor’s office decades earlier, the building sat vacant for years until Paul, the owner of Magic Cable Advertising, snapped it up for a steal, buying it outright instead of haggling over a lease. The entire one-story complex was far too large for the company’s five employees, who (for obvious reasons) chose to set up shop in the smallest suite while Paul planned to lease the remaining wings once renovated. Sydney had wandered over there a few times while he was cleaning and saw the vast array of dusty medical equipment left behind. It was all outdated stuff that Paul kept confined to a couple of the back rooms. He hoped to make some extra cash selling the items on eBay, figuring there had to be some sort of niche for odd medical nostalgia.

  Sydney pushed away from the desk and slowly spun in her chair. She fought her overwhelming desire to fetch a pack of smokes from the corner convenience store. Maybe if she whirled fast enough it would provide the same euphoria she always felt taking the first drag on her morning cigarette. The one that spiked her adrenaline. Raced her heart.

  Spinning faster, she closed her eyes and felt like a kid on a merry-go-round, playing in a time when life was much simpler. Moments later, her lids fluttered open and she caught someone standing in her doorway, backlit by the bright hall light.

  Sydney gasped and leaped from the chair. Stumbling to the opposite wall, she spun back to the open door.

  No one was there.

  She felt a tremor of fear race up her spine and explode along her scalp.

  The front door…? It’s locked, right?! Yes, you triple checked it after Paul left.

  Could it be one of the boys trying to spook her for a laugh? But the figure she saw appeared bald and all the guys at the office had full heads of hair.

  She snatched the brass letter opener off her desk and held it in front of her. Maybe she should call 911? Maybe—

  She took a calming breath. The only way into the office was through the front door and it was locked. If someone shattered the glass to gain entrance, she would have heard the commotion, no matter how loud she had the audio cranked while editing.

  It’s all in your head. You were spinning around, getting dizzy, and things blurred to form a shape. That’s all. Now go and prove to yourself that no one’s here so you can get back to work. Remember your deadline?

  Sydney forced herself to step forward and peek into the hall. It was empty. She continued on until her view became a straight shot into the well-lit lobby. The glass door and windows were completely intact, easing her frazzled nerves considerably. She just had to check, yet again, to make sure the entrance was still locked.

  She cautiously inched her way into the reception area. The lobby’s bright fluorescent lights blocked all visibility beyond the glass and reflected only her frightened image. Outside, a black void pressed against the window panes where anything could be lurking—waiting to grab her—if the door was (somehow) unlocked. Sydney slid forward and pushed on it.

  The door didn’t move. She pushed again, and again, just to make sure it wouldn’t pop open. Staring into the murky abyss outside, her scalp prickled from the odd sensation of being watched. What made it even more unnerving was she didn’t feel it originating from somewhere out in the parking lot, but from just over her shoulder. From within the office.

  Remaining frozen, her eyes quickly refocused on the glass, using its reflection to scan the hallway behind her.

  No one was there.

  Okay, you’re totally giving yourself the heebie jeebies.

  To put herself at ease (so she could get back to work), Sydney quickly searched all the rooms, closets, and areas under the desks. While at the rear of the office, she paused in front of the thick metal door with the glowing EXIT sign above it.

  She had been wrong. Apparently, there were two possible ways in.

  Used as a fire exit, the door opened into a back hallway that led to the outside. The other suites also funneled into the same hall used in case of an emergency and acted as hub to the entire building.

  Sydney moved closer and inspected its handle. It was one that had to be pushed for the door to open and locked when shut behind you. Without a handle or knob on the opposite side, it was impossible to get in. An Exit only, just as the sign above stated.

  She pressed against the door anyway, just to make sure.

  When it didn’t budge, she decided that she was done letting her imagination get the best of her, having already wasted enough of her precious time.

  Sydney entered the small kitchen and checked the mini-fridge for something to drink, finding it stocked with energy drinks. Wanting to avoid the caffeine, she remembered seeing a box of decaffeinated tea somewhere in one of the cabinets and found it in the bottom drawer. Closing it, there was a clacking sound like paper or cardboard catching on something. Sydney reopened the drawer and closed it, hearing the distinct sound again. Kneeling, she removed it from its slider and stared into the opening. Finding nothing, she flipped the drawer over and discovered a dog-eared manila file folder taped underneath.

  She wondered what weird item it might contain, obviously left behind by the doctor. While his general practice was in the west wing, Paul informed his employees that the doctor used what was now their suite as secondary living quarters. Once moved in, the Magic staff kept discovering remnants of the man’s morbid collection in odd places. Sydney found a wax-sealed Coke bottle stuffed with (what appeared to be) human hair in the tank of her toilet. While running an Ethernet cable above the ceiling tiles, the IT guy Dan came across a series of filthy rag dolls placed in the dark crawlspace. Paul unearthed a pouch full of extracted teeth under a loose floorboard in his office.

  Such disgusting things made Sydney leery to check the contents of the folder but she unfastened it and flipped it open so her imagination wouldn’t go into overdrive. Thankfully, it only contained a few blank pages from the doctor’s prescription
tablet. Written on the back of one of the forms was a list of items. Among the many entries that stood out were Belladonna, Mandrake, Nightshade, Toad’s skin…Virgin’s Blood…

  Fetus Tissue.

  Sydney gasped and threw the papers on the counter as if they were diseased. She stared down at the doctor’s name printed on the stationary and wondered what this sicko’s story was all about.

  A few minutes later, while waiting for the water to heat for her tea, Sydney stared at a photograph of Dr. Bowden on the internet. He was even creepier than she imagined with his deep-set, piercing blue eyes, wolfish grin, and quarter-sized port-wine birthmark on top his bald head. For decades, he had been a respected physician in the community, until his scandal broke. Accused of secretly performing abortions on underage girls without parental consent, he was arrested and thrown in jail. Once arraigned on bail—fearful of a conviction and possible prison time—Bowden returned to his office and committed—

  Sydney’s stomach dropped.

  Did Paul know the history of this place before buying it? Or was that the reason he got such a good deal on it?

  She returned to what little remained of the doctor’s story. Bowden’s lawyer discovered his body while doing a welfare check on his client after repeated phone calls went unanswered. The police reported various items of an occult nature surrounding his corpse. His method of suicide was never officially revealed, becoming fodder for the local gossip. Even more sensational was the mystery surrounding where the corpses of the aborted fetuses had been discarded, since no remains were found on the premises.

  Fetus Tissue.

  “Jesus…” Sydney said, exhaling. She noticed her hand had subconsciously moved to cover her belly, protecting what was growing inside her for the past eight weeks. “Unbelievable.”

  She wanted to get the hell out of there. Wished that she had never pushed for the rush job on the Halloween spot. Even with all the lights on, knowing that some guy killed himself in the building made being there, all alone, downright unbearable.

  But she had to stay. She had a job to finish. Needed to impress Paul. Needed that raise in order to squirrel away as much money as possible. She didn’t even want to think about discussing a maternity leave yet, which was really going to put Paul in a quandary. With Sydney as the company’s sole editor, he would either have to suspend production, not accepting any more gigs (not likely), or he was going to hire someone else to do the job (temporarily, she could only hope) in her absence. Sydney prayed that he’d be understanding, especially when informed that she planned to raise the baby alone, without the father (whom she hadn’t heard from since he was first told about the pregnancy).

  Look, stupid, she thought, tearing her eyes away from the creepy gaze of the doctor’s picture on the internet, the sooner you get back to work, the sooner you’ll be outta here and safe at home.

  She minimized the internet window and expanded the editing program. Maybe she’d spent enough time being distracted that she’d have a fresh take on how to make the Halloween commercial work.

  A wet gurgle—like something gelatinous being sucked through a tube—came from somewhere outside her room. Sydney lurched back in her chair then slowly rose and peeked into the hallway, finding it empty.

  She crept forward with a letter opener, ready to slash at any potential threats. Approaching the two rooms nearest the fire exit, she heard the gurgling noise to her left.

  In the kitchen.

  Where the coffeemaker had just finished heating the last of the water for her tea, gurgling it out into the glass pot.

  Sydney lowered her head and exhaled. Oh. My. God. You’re such a dork. You’re gonna give yourself a freakin’ heartatta—

  The lights in the entire office suddenly went out.

  Sydney gasped; her first instinct was to widen her eyes to make sure they were still open. As if stricken blind, she felt for the wall and slid against it, keeping her back flush to it and raising the letter opener for protection. Being at the rear of the suite (where there weren’t any windows), a wall of black pressed against her from all sides. She would have to maneuver her way through the darkness in order to get to the front lobby where the streetlights outside might provide illumination.

  It’s gonna be okay.

  Trying to step forward, her feet refused to budge, telling her that she still needed a moment to gather her nerves.

  It’s probably just a blackout. Don’t overreact. Nobody cut the power. She took a deep breath. Wait…doesn’t Paul have the lights on some sort of timer?

  Because of the somewhat rough area, he had previously mentioned leaving all the lights on to ward off burglars and vandals. What was the time? If it was exactly at one of the quarterly intervals, then it must be some sort of timer. Sydney searched her pockets for her cell phone—to use its light and check the hour.

  She came up empty. The phone was probably in her purse, back in the editing suite.

  Okay. Then maybe—

  There was creak. Then a loud thud. Both noises came from somewhere just outside the kitchen.

  Somebody’s in here!

  Using the wall as her guide, she crouched and duck-walked sideways until reaching a corner and wedged herself into it. She clutched the letter opener in both hands, aiming it into the black void.

  Another thud in the hall. Closer.

  With adrenaline flushing her body and thunderous heartbeats pounding her ribcage, Sydney felt on fire. Without sight, she felt submerged in some sensory depravation tank. Her quickening breaths flooded her eardrums, practically muting all other sounds. The room felt like it dropped twenty degrees.

  She had to move. Now! She refused to sit there and wait for someone to grab her and do God knows what. If she could find some sort of light then she would make a mad dash to the lobby and escape. She racked her brain about searching the drawers earlier, trying to remember if there were any matches mixed with the condiment packages, plastic utensils, and round peppermints. What about a lighter? Damn, if she still smoked there’d be a Bic in her pocket right now.

  The refrigerator! But do mini-fridges have lights inside? She couldn’t recall ever seeing one, but who the hell pays attention to things like that? Maybe it did. It was worth a shot.

  She stuck her hand out into the blackness to feel for it when…something licked her fingers.

  Sydney gasped and jerked back, slamming her spine against the wall. She stifled a cry of pain with a palm over her mouth.

  Eyes bulging, staring into the abyss, she felt a cold caress against her belly. Sydney shrieked and swung the sharp opener back and forth, slicing only the air. Still feeling the touch, she ripped the frigid hand off her stomach and stabbed at the ground in front of her. Someone had to be lying there, reaching up for her. But the metal tip only poked the bare linoleum floor.

  She felt an icy breath against her scalp, raising gooseflesh over every inch of her body.

  Something was on the wall. Above her.

  Then came an exhale of excitement that reeked of rotting meat as it descended upon her.

  Sydney screamed and sprang to her feet. She whirled around to face the intruder in the darkness while shuffling backwards into the hallway.

  A maniacal laugh sounded from somewhere within the void.

  Sydney whimpered and jabbed the letter opener in (what she thought was) its direction. In her blind panic, she attempted to recall which way it was to the front door. With her eyes refusing to adjust to the darkness, she still couldn’t see an inch in front of her face.

  Then it hit her. Making it to the lobby was pointless without her keys to unlock the front door. They were in her purse, somewhere in her office.

  She needed to get out now!

  The fire exit. But which way was it? She was completely turned around, lost in an alien setting so familiar during the daylight hours.

  The green EXIT sign suddenly flickered on.

  Sydney took off toward it. The sign went black again but the door’s location was alre
ady seared in her mind like a ghost image from a camera flash. She sliced through the darkness with arms raised.

  Sydney felt the metal door and turned sideways, her hips slamming into its handle. The lock released and it swung open.

  Stumbling into a much colder darkness, Sydney fought to remember which direction the exit was to the outside. A moment later, the door swung shut over her shoulder, making her jump. She spun toward the noise and realized that the intruder could’ve followed her through. Cursing that she hadn’t slammed the door immediately behind her to prevent him from doing so, she could now only pray that he wasn’t silently standing next to her.

  The thought made her skin practically crawl off her bones.

  Shivering in fear, Sydney turned around and slowly shuffled forward, hoping she was heading in the right direction. She was too terrified to extend a hand into the darkness after her last experience, choosing instead to grasp the letter opener tightly against her chest—sharp end pointing out.

  The metallic click of a door opening came from behind her. Sydney froze in her tracks. Then the surrounding darkness dissipated as a faint illumination filled the hall. She spun around and saw a glow outlining her office’s fire exit. The door was slightly ajar. The lights were back on in the advertising suite, beckoning her to return—to get out of the cold darkness and away from what might be lurking within it.

  But Sydney refused to go back. The exit leading outside was only inches away.

  A shadow suddenly moved under her office door, causing the light to flicker. Keeping her eyes glued to the opposite end of the hall, Sydney pushed the handle to the outside exit and stepped forward then…bounced back.

  The door didn’t open.

  She shoved again. Harder.

  If she couldn’t get outside, she’d be cornered. Trapped in the dimly lit hallway. Sydney slammed against it once more then came to the bleak conclusion that it wasn’t going to open.