Building's previous residents

If Stacy had paid more attention to the stories of the original building's purpose, she'd know that it had been a rather popular brothel in its prime, attracting clients far and wide to its variety of women. It was constantly entertaining all manner of guests, but it was the upper floor, now Stacy's floor, that had the most experienced, talented, and desirable choices. She might even have been aware that her office had been the Madame's bedroom. She only cared about the attached bathroom that came with it.

The door she watched open on its own led to a locker and shower room, for employees who biked to work or wanted to freshen up before their post work activities. It had originally been the sleeping quarters for the ladies who worked here, but renovations opened up the floor space, leaving it unrecognizable. If one didn't know the building's history, there'd be no indication of its previous use. Stacy has thought she was the only one still here, but if one of her staff was around, she could let off some steam on them. She strode to the end of the hall, and could see a light was flickering in the opened room.

She peeked through the doorframe, thankful that no one could see their fearless leader cowering along. The room was completely empty, the florescent lights buzzing overhead. Someone must have left them on, and a draft pulled the door open. Stacy shook her head, embarrassed by her sudden trepidation, and passed rows of lockers to reach the light switch. Her heels clicked louder in the open room; the echo made her almost believe there was a second pair walking right behind her, but she knew that was ridiculous just by looking over her shoulder. She'd have to mention to maintenance the temperature issue in here, though; she felt chills the whole time she was in the locker room. As she reached and flipped the light switch, she heard the sudden slamming of the door behind her. She spun quickly, startled by the appearance of a shadowy silhouette by her only exit. Even in the dark she could tell it was a woman, by the almost cartoonish hourglass figure. It posed gracefully in the shadows, and Stacy swore she saw its eyes glimmering.

"Who's there?" Stacy asked, filling her voice with as much confidence as she could. She flipped the light switch once more, but found some sort of glitch in the electrical system. Faulty wiring in an antiquated part of the building, she blamed, fishing her phone from her purse to provide some light. "The office is closed. You can come back tomorrow if you have need of our services." Stacy approached slowly, her phone providing minimal visibility ahead of her. When she reached the stranger, Stacy chuckled to herself. The silhouette she had seen was merely a coat hanging behind the door, which had been slammed by the draft from before. Shaking her head once more and resolving to get a good night's sleep, she returned to the elevator, rode to the lobby, and entered her car. As she buckled up and headed home, she still felt a slight chill from being in the locker room. She hoped she wasn't coming down with something as she drove through the silent streets. "Maybe I'm sick." she mused. It would explain the chills and her sudden hallucinations. Even her skin was starting to feel itchy, and her clothes would not rest comfortably. Resolving to examine herself in the morning, she pulled her car into her driveway, and entered her home. She dropped her purse on the table by her front door and marched up the stairs to bed, not bothering to remove her business attire: a professional and expensive pantsuit. Tossing uncomfortably, she finally drifted off, with strange images flashing through her head.