The Job Interview
An original horror story.
I have a special Halloween treat for readers of this newsletter.
Recently, I entered a story in the first ever Wicked Writing contest put together by
and on the official Macabre Monday newsletter. I deeply appreciate the time and energy they put into bringing the contest to life. My story ultimately earned second place, finishing behind Rare Dawn, a haunting tale you can read in the latest newsletter.And now for our featured presentation, I give you that second place story for the first time: The Job Interview
This had to be the wrong place.
Chris double checked the address he typed into the map app on his smartphone. He glanced back up at the number above the door.
616.
No, he had the right number. 616 Market Street. Still, his destination did not match his expectations based on what he read and saw online.
A nondescript brown brick building. Windows flanked both sides of a heavy white wooden door. Drawn blinds shut out sunlight and concealed whatever lay inside from prying eyes. No sign hung above the door.
Maybe interviewing to be a content writer for Wild Grape Marketing wasn't such a hot idea after all. If this building truly housed their home office, it sent the wrong message about the company's approach to marketing.
“What kind of fishy fly-by-night company is this?” Chris wondered aloud.
He stuffed his phone back inside his jacket and shifted a navy-blue folder to his other hand. The folder held an up-to-date resume. Chris spent an entire evening ironing out the details after reading various articles that offered resume-writing tips. He ran his hand through his light brown hair, stepped up to the door, and twisted the knob.
A hinge creaked as Chris pushed the door open. Darkness and emptiness swallowed everything in front of him. Outside sunlight flooded past his shoulders and soon revealed an empty waiting room. His eyes settled on a single couch covered in rough brown fabric. The couch faced a bland white round table decorated with three random magazines. Across from the office furniture stood a second door.
“Hello?”
Silence greeted his question. Chris stepped through the open doorway and surveyed the cramped room. Nothing beyond the minimal decor caught his eye. No signs of human activity.
“Hello?” he repeated. “Is anyone here?”
Chris approached the second door and knocked. An echo of his knuckles banging against wood bounced back to him. He scrunched up his eyes and nose and let loose a confused sigh.
“Is this a prank?” Chris glanced back at the open door behind him. “Am I being punked?”
Did someone post a fake job at Wild Grape Marketing on the job board? Wouldn't be unprecedented for some anonymous jerk to pull that trick. Too many trolls out there with too much time on their hands.
Chris tested the doorknob.
Unlocked.
He pushed the door open and poked his head through the doorway. It led into a darkened hall. Chris paused. Should he go inside? If someone lurked around in the hall, they were doing a good job of hiding from him.
“I'm here for the job interview,” Chris called out as he stepped through the doorway. “Is anyone here?”
Hinges creaked.
Two doors slammed.
Darkness deepened into a thick shadowy soup. Chris jumped and wheeled around. The folder holding his resume tumbled from his hand to a floor covered in rough tawny carpet. He tried the knob on the second door again.
Locked.
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