Chapter 3 - The Empty Chair
The descent into the basement felt longer than usual, each step echoing against the concrete walls with a hollow, rhythmic beat.
Arthur clicked on the flashlight app of his phone, sweeping the bright beam across the rows of metal storage shelves and undisturbed moving boxes. Everything looked precisely as he had left it that morning before heading to the office. The workbench was clean, the tools were neatly hung on their magnetic strips, and the concrete floor was spotless.
"Hello?" Arthur called out, his voice sounding thin and vulnerable in the cavernous space.
There was no answer, save for the low hum of the industrial HVAC unit tucked away in the corner. He walked cautiously toward his private office at the far end of the hall, the reinforced steel door standing slightly ajar, a sliver of warm yellow light spilling out onto the gray floor.
Arthur pushed the door open with the palm of his hand. The scene inside made his breath catch in his throat.
Sitting in his exact leather executive chair was a ceramic coffee mug, still steaming softly in the cool underground air. Next to it lay a handwritten note, written on expensive corporate letterhead that bore his own personal company watermark.
With trembling fingers, Arthur picked up the paper and read the single sentence scrawled across the page in jagged, rushed handwriting: You left the back gate unlocked for me, Arthur.
May you like
He spun around, sweeping the flashlight beam across the room, realizing too late that the heavy steel door had quietly clicked shut behind him, the lock engaging with a heavy, final thud.
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