August 12, 2025 • 18 mins
Step into the eerie silence of a downtown corporate office as we unravel the chilling tales of a night security guard's encounters with the unexplainable. What begins as a peaceful refuge in the quiet hours soon spirals into a series of haunting experiences that blur the line between reality and the supernatural. Meet Martin, the janitor with a mysterious past, whose unsettling behavior and appearances in forbidden areas leave our guard questioning his own sanity. Strange occurrences captured by security cameras, vanishing objects, and the whispers of a tragic past weave a narrative of suspense and intrigue. Discover the hidden secrets of an office that never sleeps, and follow the spine-chilling journey that ultimately leads to a terrifying revelation behind a door that should have remained closed. With every encounter, the haunting memories linger, casting long shadows over those brave enough to enter the ominous office space after dark. Join us as we explore the boundaries of fear and curiosity in this gripping episode of "Guarding the Unknown: Shadows of the Night."
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:01):
I've worked as a night security guard for a few
years now. It's not a bad gig, easy money for
the most part, and the quiet is something I've grown
to appreciate. After all, in this job, a peaceful night
means a successful night. The building I'm stationed at is
a corporate office downtown, one of those glass towers that
(00:21):
looks impressive during the day but feels almost haunted when
it's empty at night.
Speaker 2 (00:26):
Most nights, I'm the only one here.
Speaker 1 (00:28):
I sit in the security office, monitor the cameras, patrol
the hallways a couple of times, and lock up the place.
It's monotonous, but I prefer it that way. The quiet
hum of the building systems, the soft glow of the security.
Speaker 2 (00:42):
Monitors, it all became routine. Then there's Martin.
Speaker 1 (00:46):
He's the janitor on the same shift as me, and
from the moment I met him, something about him didn't
sit right.
Speaker 2 (00:52):
He's an older guy, probably in.
Speaker 1 (00:54):
His late fifties or early sixties, with thinning gray hair
and a way of moving that's too quiet. I don't
know if it's his hunched posture or the way he
always seems to appear without making a sound, but I
can never shake the feeling that he's watching.
Speaker 2 (01:08):
Me even when I don't see him.
Speaker 1 (01:11):
At first, it was just a gut feeling, nothing I
could put my finger on. He was polite enough, keeping
to himself and occasionally nodding if we passed each other
in the hallways, But over time the strangeness started to
add up. One night, I was doing my usual rounds
checking the locks, walking the hallways when I saw him
standing in one of the empty offices on the sixteenth floor.
(01:34):
The lights were off, but the glow from the hallway illuminated.
Speaker 2 (01:37):
Him just enough.
Speaker 1 (01:38):
He wasn't cleaning, he was just standing there, staring out
the window. His reflection in the glass looked wrong, distorted somehow.
I stood there for a moment, unsure of whether to
say something. It felt like I was intruding, even though
I was technically the one supposed to be there. Finally
I cleared my throat. Everything okay, Martin, I asked, trying
(02:01):
to sound casual. He didn't turn around, completely ignoring me.
He just kept staring out the window. I waited a
few more seconds before walking away, the unease settling.
Speaker 2 (02:11):
Deep in my gut.
Speaker 1 (02:12):
That was the first time I felt like something was
seriously off with him, but it was just the beginning.
Over the next few weeks, I started noticing other things,
small things at first, but enough to raise alarm bells
in the back of my mind. For one, Martin would
always be in places where he had no reason to be.
The janitorial staff had their designated areas, but I'd find
(02:35):
him wandering the upper floors at odd hours, sometimes just
standing in the middle of a hallway as if waiting
for something. The worst part, he would always seem to vanish.
The moment I turned the corner, I'd see him in
the reflection of the glass doors, but by the time
I reached that spot, he was gone. I tried telling
myself I was being paranoid. It's easy for the mind
(02:58):
to play tricks when you're alone at night in a massive,
empty building. But then things started happening that I couldn't explain.
It started with the cameras. One night, I was watching
the security monitors when I noticed static on one.
Speaker 2 (03:12):
Of the feeds.
Speaker 1 (03:13):
That's not unusual, the camera's glitch from time to time,
but this was different. The static would flicker for a second,
and then Martin would appear on the screen, standing perfectly
still in a hallway I knew I had just checked.
He wouldn't move, wouldn't clean, just stand there staring at
something off camera. Then, just as suddenly, the feed would
(03:35):
cut out, and when it came back, he'd be gone.
At first, I chalked it up to a technical error,
but it kept happening, always the same camera, always the
same unsettling image of him standing in the middle of
the hallway, staring into nothingness. And then there were the items.
Things started going missing from my desk. A pen here,
(03:55):
a key card there. I thought maybe I was just
being careless, until I found them in strange places. Is
an office supply closet that hadn't been used in months,
or a stairwell nobody ever used.
Speaker 2 (04:06):
How are they getting there? And why?
Speaker 1 (04:09):
The night everything changed, I had decided to confront Martin.
I couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow involved
in the strange happenings around the building.
Speaker 2 (04:18):
I didn't know if he.
Speaker 1 (04:19):
Was messing with me, trying to scare me, or if
something darker was going on, but I needed answers. It
was a little past two am when I saw him
again on the cameras. He was on the lower level,
near the basement, a place he never had any reason
to go. I watched as he stood outside one of
the maintenance rooms, his hand resting on the door. This time,
(04:42):
I wasn't going to just watch. I grabbed my flashlight
and headed downstairs, moving as quickly and quietly as I could.
The lower level was colder than the rest of the building,
the air thick with the hum of the HVAC system.
My footsteps echoed off the concrete walls, amplifying the growing
sense of dread in my chest. When I reached the
(05:03):
maintenance room, the door was slightly ajar and Martin was
nowhere to be seen. I hesitated for a second before
pushing it open. Inside the room was filled with cleaning supplies, tools,
and spare parts for the building systems. But something felt
wrong off somehow. I shined my flashlight around the beam,
cutting through the dimly lit space, and that's.
Speaker 2 (05:25):
When I saw it. A door. Not a regular door.
Speaker 1 (05:29):
This one was hidden behind a large metal shelving unit,
almost as if someone had intentionally tried to conceal it.
My heart raised as I moved the shelf aside, revealing
the door fully.
Speaker 2 (05:39):
There was no.
Speaker 1 (05:39):
Handle, just a small keyhole and a rusted plaque that
read authorized personnel only. I knew I shouldn't go in.
Every instinct told me to turn back, to leave this
room and forget I had ever seen it, but my
curiosity and fear drove me forward. I found a key
on one of the shelves that fit the lock, and
with a deep breath, I turned it. The door creaked open,
(06:02):
revealing a narrow stairwell that led down into darkness. I
don't know what possessed me to go down those stairs.
Maybe it was a need to prove to myself that
I wasn't losing my mind, that there was a logical
explanation for everything that had been happening. Or maybe it
was the realization that I couldn't live with the uncertainty anymore.
The stairs seemed to go on forever, the air growing
(06:24):
colder and heavier with each step. The smell hit me, first,
musty damp, and something else, something metallic. My flashlight flickered
as I reached the bottom, casting long, distorted shadows against
the cracked cement walls. At the end of the hallway
was another door, this one even older, its wood warped
(06:44):
and splintering with age. I hesitated, my hand trembling as
I reached for the handle. The cold metal sent a
shiver up my arm, and with a sense of impending dread,
I pushed it open. What I saw inside will haunt me.
Speaker 2 (06:57):
For the rest of my life.
Speaker 1 (06:59):
The room was small, no bigger than a storage closet,
but it was filled with items, boxes and shelves, overflowing
with photographs, clothing, personal effects. And then there were the
more disturbing things, tufts of hair, blood stained rags, and bones.
I stumbled backward, barely able to comprehend what I was seeing.
In the center of the room was a small, rusted cot,
(07:21):
and on it lay a faded photograph of a family,
Martin's family. Suddenly, the door behind me slammed shut. I
spun around, my flashlight beam shaking as I frantically searched
for a way out. And that's when I saw him, Martin.
He was standing in the doorway, his expression calm, his
eyes glinting in the dim light. He didn't say a word,
(07:43):
didn't need to. The look in his eyes told me
everything I needed to know. He had been waiting for
this moment. You shouldn't have come down here, he said softly,
his voice barely above a whisper. I took a step back,
my heart racing, my mind scrambling for a way out.
What is this place, I asked, my voice shaking. Martin smiled,
a slow, sinister smile that sent chills down my spine. This,
(08:07):
he said, gesturing to the room around him, is where
I keep the things I care about. I felt bile
rise in my throat as I realized what he meant.
This wasn't just a storage room. It was a shrine,
a tomb. I didn't wait for him to make a move.
I bolted toward the door, pushing past him with all
the strength I could muster. He reached out, trying to
(08:29):
grab me, but I managed to break free, running up
the stairs two at a time. I could hear him
behind me, his footsteps heavy and deliberate, but I didn't
look back. I burst through the door at the top
of the stairs, slamming it shut behind me. My hands
shook as I fumbled with the lock. I didn't stop
running until I was back in the security office, slamming
(08:50):
the door and locking it behind me. I called the police,
my fingers trembling as I dialed, barely.
Speaker 2 (08:56):
Able to explain what had happened.
Speaker 1 (08:58):
The police arrived within minutes, but when they searched the building,
Martin was gone. The room in the basement was exactly
as I had left it, but there was no sign
of him. They found evidence enough to launch a full investigation,
but to this day they've never found him. I quit
the job the next morning. It's been months since that night,
(09:20):
but I still can't shake the feeling that he's out there, watching, waiting,
and sometimes late at night, I swear I can hear
the sound of his footsteps echoing down the empty hallways,
just like before, only now I'm not there to stop him.
(09:43):
When I first took the night shift at the office,
I wasn't thrilled, but the extra pay was too good
to pass up. My department was on a deadline for
a huge project and someone needed to stay late to
monitor progress and make sure everything was on track. I volunteered,
figuring it would be just a few quiet hours of
catching up on work without distractions. The office building itself
(10:07):
was your typical corporate setup, rows of cubicles, a break
room with a coffee machine that never worked right, and
fluorescent lights that buzzed just enough to drive you crazy
During the day, the place was bustling with people, the
hum of phones ringing and keyboards clacking filling the air.
But at night, when everyone else had gone home, it
(10:27):
felt different. There's something unsettling about an empty office at night.
The rows of cubicles stretch out like a maze, the
dim emergency lighting casting strange shadows. I could hear every
little sound, a creak of the building settling, the faint
hum of the air conditioning. Even my own breathing seemed
(10:48):
too loud. At first, the quiet was a relief. I
liked the solitude, the peace of it all. But after
a few nights the piece started to feel more like isolation,
and then strange things began to happen. One night, I
was working on a report when I heard a faint,
rustling sound coming from across the room. I looked up,
expecting to see one of the cleaning crew, but the
(11:09):
office was empty. I shrugged it off, figuring it was
just some building system kicking in, but the sound kept coming,
papers shuffling, chairs creaking, as if someone was moving around
just out of sight. It was subtle, almost too subtle
to notice at first, but once I heard it, I
couldn't unhear it. I stood up and walked around the office,
(11:31):
checking the cubicles, but there was no one there. The
building was old, I reminded myself. Buildings make noises, That's
all it was. But then things started to get weirder.
The next night, I came back from a break to
find the papers on my desk scattered across the floor.
At first, I thought maybe I had knocked them off
without realizing it, but as I bent down to pick
(11:52):
them up, I noticed something strange. The papers weren't just scattered,
they were arranged spread out.
Speaker 2 (11:58):
In a way that seemed deliberate. I felt a chill.
Speaker 1 (12:02):
Creep down my spine. I was the only one in
the office, wasn't I. I checked the security system. All
the doors were locked, and no one had come in
or out since I arrived. I laughed it off, telling
myself I was just being paranoid, but I couldn't shake
the feeling that I wasn't alone. That's when the footsteps started.
(12:22):
It was late, probably close to midnight, and I was
working on some spreadsheets, the glow of my monitor the only.
Speaker 2 (12:28):
Light in the office. I was deep into my work
when I heard it.
Speaker 1 (12:32):
Footsteps echoing down the hallway just outside the cubicles. I
froze my fingers hovering over the keyboard. The sound was unmistakable.
Someone was walking down the hallway toward me. I strained
to listen, trying to figure out who it could be.
Maybe someone from the cleaning crew had arrived late, or
maybe another employee had decided to pull an all nighter.
(12:53):
But no matter how hard I listened, I couldn't hear
any doors opening or closing, no rustling of cleaning supplies,
just those footsteps. I stood up, my chair, creaking as
I pushed it back. Hello, I called out, my voice
sounding too loud in the empty office.
Speaker 2 (13:11):
No response.
Speaker 1 (13:12):
I stepped out of my cubicle, peeking around the corner
into the hallway.
Speaker 2 (13:16):
It was empty. The footsteps had stopped.
Speaker 1 (13:18):
My heart was racing now, and I could feel a
cold sweat forming on the back of my neck. I
tried to tell myself it was just my imagination that
I was hearing things because I was tired, But deep
down I knew something was wrong. I went back to
my desk, but I couldn't focus. Every little sound, the
hum of the air conditioning, the soft clicking of the clock,
(13:40):
set my nerves on edge. I kept glancing over my shoulder,
expecting to see someone standing there, watching me, but no
one was there. A few nights later, the situation reached
a new level. I was sitting at my desk finishing
up a report when I saw something out of the
corner of my eye, a shadow moving across the wall
behind me. It was quick, just a flicker, but it
(14:02):
was enough to make me turn around. There was nothing there.
I turned back to my computer. I tried to focus,
but the shadow kept appearing just at the edge of
my vision. It was like someone was standing behind me.
You know that indistinguishable feeling that there's a presence behind you.
But every time I turned to look, the room was empty.
(14:23):
The breaking point was when I caught a glimpse of
something in my monitor. It was a reflection just behind
me in the dim light of the office. I saw
the outline of a figure. I spun around, my breath
catching in my throat, but there was no one there.
The office was empty, as it always was, but the
reflection had been real.
Speaker 2 (14:42):
I knew it was. That's when I started to panic.
Speaker 1 (14:45):
I called security, asking them to check the cameras, but
they found nothing. No one had entered or left the
building all night. I was alone, at least I was
supposed to be. After that night, I couldn't shake the
feeling that I wasn't alone. Every time I came in
for my shift, I felt eyes on me, even though
I was the only one there. I started hearing voices,
(15:07):
faint whispers, just on the edge of hearing. I'd be
sitting at my desk and i'd hear my name, like
someone was calling me from down the hall, but when
I went to check, there was never anyone there. The
footsteps became more frequent too. I'd hear them almost every night,
walking up and down the hallways, sometimes stopping just outside
my cubicle. I'd sit there frozen, waiting for them to
(15:30):
move on, but they wouldn't. They'd just stop, and I'd
feel the overwhelming sense that someone was standing there, just
on the other side of the wall, waiting for me
to move. One night, after a particularly unsettling encounter where
I'd seen a shadow pass by the window even though
I was on the twelfth floor, I decided I needed
(15:51):
to get to the bottom of this. I started asking around,
trying to find out if anyone else had experienced anything
strange in the building.
Speaker 2 (15:59):
That's when I learned about the accident.
Speaker 1 (16:03):
Years ago before I started working there, and employee had
died in the building. She had been working late one night,
just like me, when she had a heart attack. No
one found her until the next morning when the cleaning
crew came in. She had been lying in her cubicle,
her face pale and her eyes wide open, staring at
the ceiling. The story sent chills down my spine. Could
(16:25):
it be her?
Speaker 2 (16:26):
Was she the one haunting the office?
Speaker 1 (16:27):
Unable to move on, I tried to brush it off
as an old office legend, just a story meant to
spook the night shift workers, But deep down I couldn't
shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.
The footsteps, the shadows, the whispers. They all started after
I had taken the night shift, and they were getting worse.
One night, I was finishing up my work when I
(16:50):
felt it again, that cold presence, the feeling of being watched.
I stood up and looked around. The empty office was quiet,
too quiet. Then I heard it, a soft voice whispering
my name. I turned toward the sound. The lights flickered,
and for a split second I saw her A figure
standing at the far end of the office, just beyond
(17:10):
the glow of my desk lamp. She was pale, her
eyes wide and vacant, her hair hanging limp around her face.
I froze, unable to move, unable to breathe. She took
a step forward, her feet making no sound on the
carpeted floor. The lights flickered again, and she was gone.
I grabbed my things and ran out of the office,
not bothering to turn off my computer or lock up.
(17:33):
I didn't care. I just needed to get out. I
never went back to the night shift after that. I
told my boss I couldn't do it anymore, and I
didn't give him a reason.
Speaker 2 (17:41):
I didn't need to.
Speaker 1 (17:43):
The office is still there, of course, people still work
late shifts, but no one ever talks about the strange
things that happen after dark. The cleaning crew has their
own stories, whispers of shadows moving in the hallways, of
footsteps that shouldn't be there. But no one ever stays
late alone anymore. As for me, I've moved on. I
(18:04):
got a new job in a new building, and I
don't work nights anymore. But I'll never forget that face,
those empty staring eyes, and I know that she's still there.
I've worked as a night security guard for a few
years now. It's not a bad gig, easy money for
the most part, and the quiet is something I've grown
to appreciate. After all, in this job, a peaceful night
means a successful night. The building I'm stationed at is
a corporate office downtown, one of those glass towers that
(00:21):
looks impressive during the day but feels almost haunted when
it's empty at night.
Speaker 2 (00:26):
Most nights, I'm the only one here.
Speaker 1 (00:28):
I sit in the security office, monitor the cameras, patrol
the hallways a couple of times, and lock up the place.
It's monotonous, but I prefer it that way. The quiet
hum of the building systems, the soft glow of the security.
Speaker 2 (00:42):
Monitors, it all became routine. Then there's Martin.
Speaker 1 (00:46):
He's the janitor on the same shift as me, and
from the moment I met him, something about him didn't
sit right.
Speaker 2 (00:52):
He's an older guy, probably in.
Speaker 1 (00:54):
His late fifties or early sixties, with thinning gray hair
and a way of moving that's too quiet. I don't
know if it's his hunched posture or the way he
always seems to appear without making a sound, but I
can never shake the feeling that he's watching.
Speaker 2 (01:08):
Me even when I don't see him.
Speaker 1 (01:11):
At first, it was just a gut feeling, nothing I
could put my finger on. He was polite enough, keeping
to himself and occasionally nodding if we passed each other
in the hallways, But over time the strangeness started to
add up. One night, I was doing my usual rounds
checking the locks, walking the hallways when I saw him
standing in one of the empty offices on the sixteenth floor.
(01:34):
The lights were off, but the glow from the hallway illuminated.
Speaker 2 (01:37):
Him just enough.
Speaker 1 (01:38):
He wasn't cleaning, he was just standing there, staring out
the window. His reflection in the glass looked wrong, distorted somehow.
I stood there for a moment, unsure of whether to
say something. It felt like I was intruding, even though
I was technically the one supposed to be there. Finally
I cleared my throat. Everything okay, Martin, I asked, trying
(02:01):
to sound casual. He didn't turn around, completely ignoring me.
He just kept staring out the window. I waited a
few more seconds before walking away, the unease settling.
Speaker 2 (02:11):
Deep in my gut.
Speaker 1 (02:12):
That was the first time I felt like something was
seriously off with him, but it was just the beginning.
Over the next few weeks, I started noticing other things,
small things at first, but enough to raise alarm bells
in the back of my mind. For one, Martin would
always be in places where he had no reason to be.
The janitorial staff had their designated areas, but I'd find
(02:35):
him wandering the upper floors at odd hours, sometimes just
standing in the middle of a hallway as if waiting
for something. The worst part, he would always seem to vanish.
The moment I turned the corner, I'd see him in
the reflection of the glass doors, but by the time
I reached that spot, he was gone. I tried telling
myself I was being paranoid. It's easy for the mind
(02:58):
to play tricks when you're alone at night in a massive,
empty building. But then things started happening that I couldn't explain.
It started with the cameras. One night, I was watching
the security monitors when I noticed static on one.
Speaker 2 (03:12):
Of the feeds.
Speaker 1 (03:13):
That's not unusual, the camera's glitch from time to time,
but this was different. The static would flicker for a second,
and then Martin would appear on the screen, standing perfectly
still in a hallway I knew I had just checked.
He wouldn't move, wouldn't clean, just stand there staring at
something off camera. Then, just as suddenly, the feed would
(03:35):
cut out, and when it came back, he'd be gone.
At first, I chalked it up to a technical error,
but it kept happening, always the same camera, always the
same unsettling image of him standing in the middle of
the hallway, staring into nothingness. And then there were the items.
Things started going missing from my desk. A pen here,
(03:55):
a key card there. I thought maybe I was just
being careless, until I found them in strange places. Is
an office supply closet that hadn't been used in months,
or a stairwell nobody ever used.
Speaker 2 (04:06):
How are they getting there? And why?
Speaker 1 (04:09):
The night everything changed, I had decided to confront Martin.
I couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow involved
in the strange happenings around the building.
Speaker 2 (04:18):
I didn't know if he.
Speaker 1 (04:19):
Was messing with me, trying to scare me, or if
something darker was going on, but I needed answers. It
was a little past two am when I saw him
again on the cameras. He was on the lower level,
near the basement, a place he never had any reason
to go. I watched as he stood outside one of
the maintenance rooms, his hand resting on the door. This time,
(04:42):
I wasn't going to just watch. I grabbed my flashlight
and headed downstairs, moving as quickly and quietly as I could.
The lower level was colder than the rest of the building,
the air thick with the hum of the HVAC system.
My footsteps echoed off the concrete walls, amplifying the growing
sense of dread in my chest. When I reached the
(05:03):
maintenance room, the door was slightly ajar and Martin was
nowhere to be seen. I hesitated for a second before
pushing it open. Inside the room was filled with cleaning supplies, tools,
and spare parts for the building systems. But something felt
wrong off somehow. I shined my flashlight around the beam,
cutting through the dimly lit space, and that's.
Speaker 2 (05:25):
When I saw it. A door. Not a regular door.
Speaker 1 (05:29):
This one was hidden behind a large metal shelving unit,
almost as if someone had intentionally tried to conceal it.
My heart raised as I moved the shelf aside, revealing
the door fully.
Speaker 2 (05:39):
There was no.
Speaker 1 (05:39):
Handle, just a small keyhole and a rusted plaque that
read authorized personnel only. I knew I shouldn't go in.
Every instinct told me to turn back, to leave this
room and forget I had ever seen it, but my
curiosity and fear drove me forward. I found a key
on one of the shelves that fit the lock, and
with a deep breath, I turned it. The door creaked open,
(06:02):
revealing a narrow stairwell that led down into darkness. I
don't know what possessed me to go down those stairs.
Maybe it was a need to prove to myself that
I wasn't losing my mind, that there was a logical
explanation for everything that had been happening. Or maybe it
was the realization that I couldn't live with the uncertainty anymore.
The stairs seemed to go on forever, the air growing
(06:24):
colder and heavier with each step. The smell hit me, first,
musty damp, and something else, something metallic. My flashlight flickered
as I reached the bottom, casting long, distorted shadows against
the cracked cement walls. At the end of the hallway
was another door, this one even older, its wood warped
(06:44):
and splintering with age. I hesitated, my hand trembling as
I reached for the handle. The cold metal sent a
shiver up my arm, and with a sense of impending dread,
I pushed it open. What I saw inside will haunt me.
Speaker 2 (06:57):
For the rest of my life.
Speaker 1 (06:59):
The room was small, no bigger than a storage closet,
but it was filled with items, boxes and shelves, overflowing
with photographs, clothing, personal effects. And then there were the
more disturbing things, tufts of hair, blood stained rags, and bones.
I stumbled backward, barely able to comprehend what I was seeing.
In the center of the room was a small, rusted cot,
(07:21):
and on it lay a faded photograph of a family,
Martin's family. Suddenly, the door behind me slammed shut. I
spun around, my flashlight beam shaking as I frantically searched
for a way out. And that's when I saw him, Martin.
He was standing in the doorway, his expression calm, his
eyes glinting in the dim light. He didn't say a word,
(07:43):
didn't need to. The look in his eyes told me
everything I needed to know. He had been waiting for
this moment. You shouldn't have come down here, he said softly,
his voice barely above a whisper. I took a step back,
my heart racing, my mind scrambling for a way out.
What is this place, I asked, my voice shaking. Martin smiled,
a slow, sinister smile that sent chills down my spine. This,
(08:07):
he said, gesturing to the room around him, is where
I keep the things I care about. I felt bile
rise in my throat as I realized what he meant.
This wasn't just a storage room. It was a shrine,
a tomb. I didn't wait for him to make a move.
I bolted toward the door, pushing past him with all
the strength I could muster. He reached out, trying to
(08:29):
grab me, but I managed to break free, running up
the stairs two at a time. I could hear him
behind me, his footsteps heavy and deliberate, but I didn't
look back. I burst through the door at the top
of the stairs, slamming it shut behind me. My hands
shook as I fumbled with the lock. I didn't stop
running until I was back in the security office, slamming
(08:50):
the door and locking it behind me. I called the police,
my fingers trembling as I dialed, barely.
Speaker 2 (08:56):
Able to explain what had happened.
Speaker 1 (08:58):
The police arrived within minutes, but when they searched the building,
Martin was gone. The room in the basement was exactly
as I had left it, but there was no sign
of him. They found evidence enough to launch a full investigation,
but to this day they've never found him. I quit
the job the next morning. It's been months since that night,
(09:20):
but I still can't shake the feeling that he's out there, watching, waiting,
and sometimes late at night, I swear I can hear
the sound of his footsteps echoing down the empty hallways,
just like before, only now I'm not there to stop him.
(09:43):
When I first took the night shift at the office,
I wasn't thrilled, but the extra pay was too good
to pass up. My department was on a deadline for
a huge project and someone needed to stay late to
monitor progress and make sure everything was on track. I volunteered,
figuring it would be just a few quiet hours of
catching up on work without distractions. The office building itself
(10:07):
was your typical corporate setup, rows of cubicles, a break
room with a coffee machine that never worked right, and
fluorescent lights that buzzed just enough to drive you crazy
During the day, the place was bustling with people, the
hum of phones ringing and keyboards clacking filling the air.
But at night, when everyone else had gone home, it
(10:27):
felt different. There's something unsettling about an empty office at night.
The rows of cubicles stretch out like a maze, the
dim emergency lighting casting strange shadows. I could hear every
little sound, a creak of the building settling, the faint
hum of the air conditioning. Even my own breathing seemed
(10:48):
too loud. At first, the quiet was a relief. I
liked the solitude, the peace of it all. But after
a few nights the piece started to feel more like isolation,
and then strange things began to happen. One night, I
was working on a report when I heard a faint,
rustling sound coming from across the room. I looked up,
expecting to see one of the cleaning crew, but the
(11:09):
office was empty. I shrugged it off, figuring it was
just some building system kicking in, but the sound kept coming,
papers shuffling, chairs creaking, as if someone was moving around
just out of sight. It was subtle, almost too subtle
to notice at first, but once I heard it, I
couldn't unhear it. I stood up and walked around the office,
(11:31):
checking the cubicles, but there was no one there. The
building was old, I reminded myself. Buildings make noises, That's
all it was. But then things started to get weirder.
The next night, I came back from a break to
find the papers on my desk scattered across the floor.
At first, I thought maybe I had knocked them off
without realizing it, but as I bent down to pick
(11:52):
them up, I noticed something strange. The papers weren't just scattered,
they were arranged spread out.
Speaker 2 (11:58):
In a way that seemed deliberate. I felt a chill.
Speaker 1 (12:02):
Creep down my spine. I was the only one in
the office, wasn't I. I checked the security system. All
the doors were locked, and no one had come in
or out since I arrived. I laughed it off, telling
myself I was just being paranoid, but I couldn't shake
the feeling that I wasn't alone. That's when the footsteps started.
(12:22):
It was late, probably close to midnight, and I was
working on some spreadsheets, the glow of my monitor the only.
Speaker 2 (12:28):
Light in the office. I was deep into my work
when I heard it.
Speaker 1 (12:32):
Footsteps echoing down the hallway just outside the cubicles. I
froze my fingers hovering over the keyboard. The sound was unmistakable.
Someone was walking down the hallway toward me. I strained
to listen, trying to figure out who it could be.
Maybe someone from the cleaning crew had arrived late, or
maybe another employee had decided to pull an all nighter.
(12:53):
But no matter how hard I listened, I couldn't hear
any doors opening or closing, no rustling of cleaning supplies,
just those footsteps. I stood up, my chair, creaking as
I pushed it back. Hello, I called out, my voice
sounding too loud in the empty office.
Speaker 2 (13:11):
No response.
Speaker 1 (13:12):
I stepped out of my cubicle, peeking around the corner
into the hallway.
Speaker 2 (13:16):
It was empty. The footsteps had stopped.
Speaker 1 (13:18):
My heart was racing now, and I could feel a
cold sweat forming on the back of my neck. I
tried to tell myself it was just my imagination that
I was hearing things because I was tired, But deep
down I knew something was wrong. I went back to
my desk, but I couldn't focus. Every little sound, the
hum of the air conditioning, the soft clicking of the clock,
(13:40):
set my nerves on edge. I kept glancing over my shoulder,
expecting to see someone standing there, watching me, but no
one was there. A few nights later, the situation reached
a new level. I was sitting at my desk finishing
up a report when I saw something out of the
corner of my eye, a shadow moving across the wall
behind me. It was quick, just a flicker, but it
(14:02):
was enough to make me turn around. There was nothing there.
I turned back to my computer. I tried to focus,
but the shadow kept appearing just at the edge of
my vision. It was like someone was standing behind me.
You know that indistinguishable feeling that there's a presence behind you.
But every time I turned to look, the room was empty.
(14:23):
The breaking point was when I caught a glimpse of
something in my monitor. It was a reflection just behind
me in the dim light of the office. I saw
the outline of a figure. I spun around, my breath
catching in my throat, but there was no one there.
The office was empty, as it always was, but the
reflection had been real.
Speaker 2 (14:42):
I knew it was. That's when I started to panic.
Speaker 1 (14:45):
I called security, asking them to check the cameras, but
they found nothing. No one had entered or left the
building all night. I was alone, at least I was
supposed to be. After that night, I couldn't shake the
feeling that I wasn't alone. Every time I came in
for my shift, I felt eyes on me, even though
I was the only one there. I started hearing voices,
(15:07):
faint whispers, just on the edge of hearing. I'd be
sitting at my desk and i'd hear my name, like
someone was calling me from down the hall, but when
I went to check, there was never anyone there. The
footsteps became more frequent too. I'd hear them almost every night,
walking up and down the hallways, sometimes stopping just outside
my cubicle. I'd sit there frozen, waiting for them to
(15:30):
move on, but they wouldn't. They'd just stop, and I'd
feel the overwhelming sense that someone was standing there, just
on the other side of the wall, waiting for me
to move. One night, after a particularly unsettling encounter where
I'd seen a shadow pass by the window even though
I was on the twelfth floor, I decided I needed
(15:51):
to get to the bottom of this. I started asking around,
trying to find out if anyone else had experienced anything
strange in the building.
Speaker 2 (15:59):
That's when I learned about the accident.
Speaker 1 (16:03):
Years ago before I started working there, and employee had
died in the building. She had been working late one night,
just like me, when she had a heart attack. No
one found her until the next morning when the cleaning
crew came in. She had been lying in her cubicle,
her face pale and her eyes wide open, staring at
the ceiling. The story sent chills down my spine. Could
(16:25):
it be her?
Speaker 2 (16:26):
Was she the one haunting the office?
Speaker 1 (16:27):
Unable to move on, I tried to brush it off
as an old office legend, just a story meant to
spook the night shift workers, But deep down I couldn't
shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.
The footsteps, the shadows, the whispers. They all started after
I had taken the night shift, and they were getting worse.
One night, I was finishing up my work when I
(16:50):
felt it again, that cold presence, the feeling of being watched.
I stood up and looked around. The empty office was quiet,
too quiet. Then I heard it, a soft voice whispering
my name. I turned toward the sound. The lights flickered,
and for a split second I saw her A figure
standing at the far end of the office, just beyond
(17:10):
the glow of my desk lamp. She was pale, her
eyes wide and vacant, her hair hanging limp around her face.
I froze, unable to move, unable to breathe. She took
a step forward, her feet making no sound on the
carpeted floor. The lights flickered again, and she was gone.
I grabbed my things and ran out of the office,
not bothering to turn off my computer or lock up.
(17:33):
I didn't care. I just needed to get out. I
never went back to the night shift after that. I
told my boss I couldn't do it anymore, and I
didn't give him a reason.
Speaker 2 (17:41):
I didn't need to.
Speaker 1 (17:43):
The office is still there, of course, people still work
late shifts, but no one ever talks about the strange
things that happen after dark. The cleaning crew has their
own stories, whispers of shadows moving in the hallways, of
footsteps that shouldn't be there. But no one ever stays
late alone anymore. As for me, I've moved on. I
(18:04):
got a new job in a new building, and I
don't work nights anymore. But I'll never forget that face,
those empty staring eyes, and I know that she's still there.
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