The Office Ghost: Employee

Table of Contents

The Office Ghost: Employee

It all started with the smell of coffee.

Every morning at McAllister & Co., the scent of freshly brewed coffee floated through the corridors of the 11th floor before anyone had even arrived. The machine should’ve been off—Emma knew, because she was always the first one in. But somehow, the coffee pot was warm. Full.

“Must be one of the night cleaners,” she told herself.

But the cleaning crew didn’t come to their floor anymore. Budget cuts.

One Thursday morning, Emma found a sticky note on her desk. Neatly written in black ink: “Meeting at 3pm. Don’t forget the Peterson file.”

She blinked. There was no meeting scheduled.

“Did you leave this?” she asked James, her cubicle neighbor.

“Nope,” he said, not looking up from his monitor. “Weird handwriting though. Looks…old school.”

Things escalated the following week.

Chairs moved. Lights flickered. The elevator stopped at the 11th floor with no one inside.

One afternoon, Emma stayed late. The office was silent. At 8:43 PM, she heard typing—rapid, rhythmic keystrokes.

But she was alone.

She stood, heart pounding, and followed the sound to an empty cubicle. The computer was off.

“Hello?” she called.

Nothing.

Suddenly, a document began printing. She approached the machine slowly.

One page. Typed in Courier font:

“He never left.”

Emma brought it home, unable to sleep.

The next morning, she confronted her boss, Mr. Talbot.

“There’s something weird going on,” she said, holding the page.

Talbot read it, face unreadable. “I figured it might start again. I was hoping it wouldn’t.”

“Start what?”

He motioned for her to close the door.

“Do you know the name Samuel R. Kline?”

She shook her head.

“Kline was an employee here. Died at his desk in 1987. Heart attack. No one noticed for hours. He was always quiet, always working late. When they finally found him, his coffee was still warm.”

Emma felt a chill run down her spine.

“He… never left, did he?”

Talbot nodded slowly. “We think his spirit got stuck here. He loved his job. Obsessed with it, really. And every so often, he… resurfaces.”

“Why me?”

“I don’t know. But maybe he sees something in you.”

That night, Emma stayed again.

“Mr. Kline,” she said aloud, standing in the darkened office. “I know you’re here.”

The printer came to life.

A single sheet: “I need help.”

“What do you need?” she whispered.

The lights flickered. Her computer turned on by itself. A folder popped open. Inside, a document titled “Final Report – 1987.”

She opened it. It was incomplete. Just a few lines of text. Data, tables, projections. All unfinished.

“You didn’t get to finish your last project,” she murmured.

The air grew warmer, almost grateful.

Emma spent the next week piecing together the data. Digging into archives, decoding handwritten notes, scanning old microfilms from the library. The more she worked, the more the office seemed to come alive. Lights stayed on longer. The coffee machine brewed exactly when she arrived. It was like the ghost was guiding her.

James noticed.

“You’ve been here like… every night. You good?”

“Just trying to wrap up something,” she replied, smiling.

The night she finished the report, the entire building seemed to sigh. Computers whirred, lights dimmed in a wave. The printer came alive one last time.

“Thank you.”

She turned to look at her reflection in the dark window. A faint image stood beside her—a man in a faded suit, smiling.

Then, he was gone.

Emma never told anyone everything. Only that she’d found an old report worth finishing. She left it on Talbot’s desk with a sticky note:

“Samuel R. Kline’s legacy.”

To this day, the 11th floor remains quiet. The coffee still brews early. But the air is lighter now. Peaceful.

Some say the office has its own guardian.

Emma smiles every time she clocks in. Because she knows: not all ghosts are meant to haunt.

But just as she began to move on, odd things started happening again—only this time, they weren’t friendly. Her emails would delete themselves mid-typing. Files disappeared. The printer spat out angry red pages with scrambled symbols.

At first, she thought it was a glitch. Until she noticed her desk drawer had been pried open and a folder—the one containing Kline’s completed report—was missing.

She rushed to Talbot’s office. “Did you take the Kline file?”

He looked confused. “No. Why would I?”

She explained everything—the disappearances, the angry printouts. Talbot leaned back, rubbing his temples.

“There was another,” he said.

“Another ghost?”

“His name was Howard Dent. He was Kline’s rival. Accused Kline of stealing his ideas. Howard was fired just days before Kline died.”

Emma’s heart dropped. “What happened to Dent?”

“He disappeared. No one ever found him. Rumor was he cursed the office.”

Emma now understood—this new haunting wasn’t Kline. It was Dent. And he was angry.

That night, she stayed again. This time, not to help, but to confront.

She sat at her desk and said, firmly, “Howard Dent. I know you’re here.”

The air turned icy. Lights flickered violently.

The computer screen went black. Then, words appeared:

“He stole everything. Now you will lose everything too.”

“No,” Emma replied. “I’m not here to pick sides. I just want peace.”

The screen glitched, then flashed an image—an old blueprint. It was Dent’s design. Dated before Kline’s report. Proof.

Emma printed it, and with a trembling hand, placed it beside Kline’s folder in the archives.

“You were both important,” she said aloud. “This building remembers both of you.”

The office went still. For the first time in weeks, everything was silent.

The next morning, the coffee was warm as always. But this time, there was no flicker. No misplaced file. Just peace.

Emma had become more than an employee. She was now the keeper of the past.

And the ghosts? They were no longer restless. They were part of the legacy.