Stacy Dennings, ladder climbing business woman

Stacy sat in her private office, finishing the last tasks keeping her from starting her weekend. One of her subordinate's had misdated a folder's worth of documents, and she had to correct them herself. The cause of this blunder had already escaped the office for the day, so she'd have to deal with him on Monday. As she corrected dates, she daydreamed about how she could make an example of this incompetent worm, humiliating him so his peers will understand what happens to someone who fucks her over. She'd fought too hard to get where she was to have some dummy embarrass her. She earned the cushy corner office in which she burned the midnight oil through her aggressive business tactics and cutthroat selfishness. She had to, as a women in the fast paced business world, if she didn't want some schmuck assuming she was a secretary or coffee girl. It meant most people assumed she was a frigid bitch, but she just had higher standards for herself and for others.

It was around 8pm when she finally finished her corrections, and she was the last person left on her floor, probably in the whole building. She gathered her things and started the long walk to the elevator. Her black heels clicked down the echoing halls of the anachronistic level of the building where she worked. It had been refurbished and renovated from some kind of hotel or public house from 200 years ago, and it now stood to support the towering skyscraper full of monotonous offices. Stacy was thankful her trips to and from her office didn't involve a long elevator trip; she could take the stairs quickly if she needed to, but the old, wooden fixtures still gave her the creeps. If she had been a superstitious type, the rumors of hauntings and paranormal sightings would spook her, but she was too level headed to give those stories a second thought. That didn't stop a slight chill from running up her back as she reached the elevators and a wooden door at the end of the intersection creaked open slowly.