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About a year ago, I worked in a building that housed two offices, one downstairs for apartment management for the apartments behind the property, and the upstairs for the regional office. Unfortunately, I worked upstairs. It gave me the creeps the first time I went in it. I got a funny feeling just walking up the steps to be interviewed, but shook it off to nerves. I got the job and started the next Monday. The manager who I was working for, I'll call her Cathy, showed me around and the place seemed harmless enough. Three offices, two small, one large, a bathroom and a huge back storage room. The storage room was always cold, I mean freezing cold, and I hated to go in there for anything, it gave me the willies. You see, before this was an office, the local kids had used it for their annual haunted house, some of the walls were painted red, One of them read "REDRUM". There was an area in the back that was totally sealed off by boards. It had once been the stairs from the kitchen to the upstairs, but had long been removed.
I started experiencing things right away. Drawers would open with no one in the office, the radio would change frequency. I always locked my office when I left because I kept the petty cash, came in one day with the window wide open. No one had been in there at all. They couldn't have been. Only my boss and I had the key, and she was gone for a few days. I often heard footsteps when I would be the only person alone upstairs. I would occasionally feel as if someone had brushed me as if I had walked too close to them. Then one day, all the regional managers came to visit. I was sitting in the meeting taking notes, ready for a break, when one of them asked my boss about the "Ghost?". She began to tell of her experiences and some of the experiences of others (she had worked there for four years). She said they finally got tired of wondering and looked into the history of the house and found out that it had been a plantation home years ago. The husband had caught the wife sleeping with one of the "farmhands". It was rumored that she used to sneak him up the stairs from the kitchen as her husband went down to the living room via the more casually used stairs. He caught them and killed her instantly and had the farmhand hung in the back on one of the old oak trees. He had killed her in their bedroom - our storage room.
I only saw her once. I had a habit of looking at the stairs as I could see it from my desk, and I thought I heard someone coming. Upon looking up I saw this young woman, in her 30's maybe, in the mirror, but there was no one on the stairwell. Freaky. I decided to move on to a different job, but I definitely know that all the stories are true, I experienced them too.
Faithangel
