I got promoted to senior analyst last month. Dream job, better pay, corner office on the 14th floor.
On my first day, my new boss Tom gave me the office keys and a weird warning: “Don’t work late on Thursdays.”
“Why not?”
He just smiled. “Trust me.”
I forgot about it until three weeks later. Big deadline, had to stay late on a Thursday.
Around 8pm, I heard footsteps in the hallway. Our floor should’ve been empty.
I looked out. Saw a woman in a blue dress walking toward the conference room. She looked solid, real, not like a ghost story ghost.
She went into the conference room. I followed.
Empty. Completely empty.
The next morning, I asked Tom about it.
His face went serious. “You saw her?”
“Saw who?”
“Katherine. She worked here in the 90s. Jumped from the conference room window on a Thursday night.”
I felt sick. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you wouldn’t have taken the office. Nobody takes it after they know.”
“So you’ve seen her too?”
Tom nodded. “We all have. Everyone on this floor. She just walks to the conference room every Thursday around 8pm, then disappears.”
“Why don’t we tell building management?”
He laughed. “We did. They investigated. Found out Katherine never existed. No employment records, no death certificate, no missing person report. No Katherine.”
I still work there. But on Thursdays, I leave by 6pm.