The Door at the End of the Hall
The door caught my attention on the first day of work at the machining company. Florescent lighting lit every inch of the hall with the exception of the door at the end. The light constantly flickering and going out on occasion. A single sheet of paper stuck to it with scotch tape read “KEEP CLOSED AT ALL TIMES” in poor handwriting that could have belonged to a small child.
I passed the door no less than ten times a day every day over the next two months and never saw anyone go in or out of it. It stayed closed, just as the sign instructed, all the time. The question of what was behind it slowly ate away at me and, even when I asked about it, I never got any answers.
Gavin, the production manager, walked slowly from the office across from mine, walking toward the shop. He was reading his reports and usually didn’t work the same shift as me. I rose from my desk and joined him in the hall, walking slowly beside him.
“Can I ask a couple of questions, Gavin?” I asked.
“Sure,” he replied, looking up from his clipboard. “What can I help you with?”
“How long have you worked here?” I asked.
“Twenty-five years, why?”
I nodded to the door at the end. “Do you know what’s in there? I’ve been asking about it for months, but no one can tell me anything.”
“Listen to me, Ian,” Gavin said, suddenly very serious, “That door has been locked since before I started working here. We don’t open it. No one does. Not even Old Man Trevor, the owner. I recommend putting it out of your mind and eventually you’ll forget about it.”
I stopped walking as he rounded the corner and walked through the door onto the floor. I looked at the door feeling a little defeated. I sulked back to my desk and got back to work checking orders and shipping parts, but the new questions burned in my mind hotter than ever now. I had to know…
To be continued…