Ding
Andrew stepped into the lift, his finger hovering nervously before jabbing at the button for his floor. He then glanced at the digital display above the doors.
"What is it with this bank? Ten floors? What could they possibly need all that space for?" He muttered to himself, a low hum of perplexed curiosity. "I can't even imagine what they do on the other floors. Maybe they rent them out? But if that's the case, why haven't I ever seen anyone else from those floors in the lift? And the strangest part of it all… no one ever gets on or off at the even-numbered floors.. Except maybe the boss or someone with special access. Well… This matter is not under my purview. Best to keep my mouth shut."
Ding
"What now? I thought everyone would be at their desks by now. Maybe it is the boss? No, it couldn't be."
The doors slid open.
A cluster of figures stood outside, all clad in suits. But these weren't the mundane grays and navies of the banking world. Each suit was a different color, each bearing a hint of darkness. Deep burgundy, forest green, a teal so dark it bordered on black—a spectrum of muted, unsettling hues.
Who the hell are these people? He thought, adrenaline spiking. They stepped out from the fourth floor?! How? he mused.
"I thought no one used the lift at times like these," one of them commented, stepping forward. His suit was a dark, unyielding blue, a shade that seemed heavy. "Look, I expect you won't cause trouble for us, so this is the deal: You didn't see us, and we didn't see you, capisce?"
Andrew's heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.
"Okay," he squeaked, the word barely audible.
"Good job, bro!" The blue-suited man grinned, a flash of teeth in the dim lift light.
The group—six in all—piled into the lift. The man in a brown suit punched a button.
6 glowed on the screen.
"Um… If you don't mind my asking, what do you guys do?"
"Oh… we're, uh… contractors. Hired by another company."
"Do you always work on the even-numbered floors? And what kind of work is it?" Andrew probed, a nervous sweat slicking his palms.
"Yeah… Look, you really can't tell anyone you saw us, understand?"
"Okay."
"About the job? It's classified." He winked, a gesture that seemed strangely out of place. "But I can tell you we're… indirectly related to your company's security."
"Hey Mike, ease up; too much lip," the woman in the dark red suit snapped.
"Sorry, Ann," the man replied, immediately subdued.
Ding
"Our floor. See you around," the blue-suited man said as he and his crew filed out.
The doors slid shut.
"I can't believe what I just saw. If I told the others, they would freak!"
A memory slammed into his mind, unbidden.
"You haven't seen us, and we haven't seen you, okay?" "Okay."
"Guess I can't tell them anything," he said, letting out a shaky breath.
Ding
"Where the heck is Andrew?!" A man's voice thundered.
Andrew didn't need to see him to know who it was—his boss. Through the glass walls of the office, he spotted the man talking to the manager, irritation written all over his face.
Not wanting to deal with it, Andrew quietly slipped into his own cubicle. His office was small, built for one person. The silence felt heavy.
"Guess it's going to be a long day," he muttered, sinking into his chair.
"The boss is looking for you," said the girl sitting near his desk, leaning slightly over her divider so only her head showed.
"I know. He's probably losing his mind right now. I took home all the company's important papers yesterday, and now I'm late."
"I think you should go talk to him. He said if you don't show up soon, he'll fire you."
"Yeah… you're right. Thanks, Leyla."
He stood up and headed for the director's room.
"If he's talking about my work performance, I should be as polite as possible," Andrew thought.
The boss had already noticed him approaching but pretended not to. He continued writing something at his desk until Andrew opened the door.
"Good morning, sir," Andrew said carefully.
No reply. The boss stopped writing, leaned back in his chair, and turned slightly to face him.
"Andrew, when does your workday start?"
"At 9 A.M., sir…"
"Right. Then why did you come ten minutes late?"
"There was a traffic jam. I had to walk from Lesley Street."
"Listen, Andrew. Even though you're not terribly late, the bank runs on schedule. We have a meeting with investors in twenty minutes."
"Uh… So what exactly do you need me to do, sir?"
"The papers you took home yesterday. You accidentally took one of the documents I need for the meeting. Where are they?"
"At my home."
His boss narrowed his eyes. "Why are your work papers at home?"
"Well… sir, sorry, but I accidentally spilled coffee on them yesterday."
The boss froze. Silence stretched for several seconds—heavy and cold.
Five minutes later, Andrew stepped out of the room.
"You're fired."
The words kept echoing in his mind like a curse.
"Fuck!" he shouted. Heads turned across the office.
"Ah… I'm distracting everyone," he whispered bitterly. He sank down on a nearby bench.
"Even if I scream my lungs out, it won't bring my job back."
He laughed once—a dry, hollow sound.
"Yeah. You can't bring back your job, but you can release me, and everybody here will be destroyed."
"No… "I can't do this," he said to it in his mind.
"Although I lost everything, this doesn't give me any reason to hurt anybody."
"I am already speaking with you. I must be crazy to even talk to you."
"Huh…"
He came back to his office.
"How are you?" asked Leyla.
"Bad. I am fired."
"I am sorry, Andrew," she said.
"It's okay, Leyla. It's not your fault."
"I must have been more careful with documents."
"I should have used another bag to store my hunting equipment," he murmured.
"Pardon?" Leyla asked.
"Ahh… Nothing. I am just dreaming."
"Ok. Then good luck, Andrew. I hope you can overcome this."
"Thanks, Leyla."
"The knife cut the sack, and its blood spread across all the documents in my bag," he thought.
"I couldn't say this to the boss, so I came up with another alternative."
He put all his things in his box and went to the lift.
Ding
He entered the lift.
This time nothing happened.
He calmly went out of the lift on the first floor.
"Oh…Andrew. What happened?"
Andrew didn't say anything, but Tomas instantly understood it.
"Andrew… I wish you good luck. Be strong; you can overcome this."
"Thank you, Tomas."
He came out of the bank. The air felt thick, almost electric. The sky above was heavy with dark clouds.
"It's going to rain soon."