Leo padded silently at my side as I moved through the rows of cubicles, laptop open and fingers poised. Task Two: observe my surroundings, list five people I interact with, and report any unusual behavior.
It sounded simple. Harmless. Safe.
But nothing about this place felt safe.
I started by noting the people I knew: Sophie Grant typing furiously at her desk, Mark Dalton laughing at something on his screen, Clara walking by with her sharp, measured steps. Everything seemed normal—or as normal as The Office could ever be.
And then I noticed him.
He wasn't in my first five interactions. But as I walked past his cubicle, I caught him fidgeting, muttering under his breath, glancing around like he was afraid of… something. Or someone.
Curiosity got the better of me. I stopped. "Hey," I said softly. "Are you okay?"
He spun toward me, and my stomach dropped. His face was pale, eyes darting, fingers tapping against his desk like he was fighting some panic I couldn't see. "What do you want?" His voice was low, sharp, and there was something… off about it.
"Just checking in," I said carefully. "You seem… nervous."
He leaned closer, a shadow passing over his features. His voice dropped to a hiss. "If you say another word, I'll—"
The words cut off, but the meaning was clear. Threaten you. Kill you.
I froze, heart hammering, cold sweat prickling my skin.
"Okay," I whispered, holding up my hands. "I'm not saying anything."
I backed away slowly, gripping Leo's leash. The dog whined softly, sensing the tension.
Once I reached my desk, I stared at my laptop. Fingers trembling, I typed a new report: the man's suspicious, erratic behavior, the threat, everything I could remember. Every detail.
Report Submitted.
The computer screen went blank for a second, then refreshed: Task Received. Thank you for your diligence.
I exhaled shakily. Maybe that was enough. Maybe someone—someone in charge—would handle it.
The next morning, I arrived earlier than usual, hoping to see what had been done.
His cubicle was empty. Not just him—everything cleared. Desk, chair, computer… gone. It looked like he had never existed.
I glanced around, stomach twisting. Something felt wrong.
Then I saw it.
A smear of red on the floor, faint at first, then darker as my eyes adjusted. I froze, Leo growling softly under my desk. My heart pounded in my ears.
Blood.
Not a lot—but enough. Enough to make my stomach turn, enough to make the hair on my arms stand on end.
I didn't scream. I didn't run. I just stared, frozen, trying to understand what had happened while every survival instinct in my body screamed at me to get out.
And I realized, with a sinking, terrifying certainty: This is real.
The rules aren't just rules. They're consequences. And someone—maybe even me—could die if I don't follow them perfectly.
I pressed my hand against Leo's head, grounding myself. My pulse was wild, adrenaline coursing. Every instinct screamed at me to hide, to escape, to run. But the rules were clear: observe. Report. Obey.
I would survive.
I had to.
And somehow… I knew that tomorrow, everything would be even more dangerous.