Nails, Nails on a Wall

I’m standing in the makeshift storage room in the sub-basement.  I know Fred is going to offer me my own office soon.  This room will do.

There is a black and white photo in a gold frame on the wall of a woman. She is sitting upright, clearly a tall woman, sitting on a blanket in a field, the antique frame hanging from a floor nail jammed into the wall and painted over.  As I was admiring the photograph, a woman walked in, she glanced at the photo, kissed her hand, touched the picture, then her heart. 

“Oh, G.. you poor thing. You didn’t deserve this.” before swiftly walking out of the room.  The expression on her face was of deep sadness. She said "G" like it was a person's name, odd…

Anyway, the room is perfect and has ample sunlight during the day, and very spacious.  Fingers crossed Fred allows me to have this room.  There is another door in here, a big metal door behind stacks of boxes.

I’m meeting Reg at the Cantina after work, maybe he knows what is behind there...

THURSDAY 10.16

My boss confirmed I was getting my own office; I've been with the company for 5 years and have been very patient, not to mention the lead draftsperson for 2 years.

I was offered one of two rooms, the first one on the main floor was too small and had no window. The second was the empty room in the sub-basement, currently a storage room of sorts for all the oddball stuff from the building which was soon to be relocated. The move began immediately.

My boss travelled a lot and gave me assignments while on the road. The rest of the staff were tolerable, but chatty Kathys, or other aspiring draftspersons who just wanted to be left alone and work, like me.  These guys looked up to me since it seemed I was the only person Fred didn't yell at.

I moved into the downstairs room after he departed for a business trip- 2 weeks before Halloween- without telling any of the other staff, just me.

“Reggie will clear that room out for you.” Fred said to me before he left.

He’d be back for the party though, he loves those parties.  I love those parties. Now that I'm "in charge", I set about arranging my office and told the other staff to just relax; the cat is away, let the mice play.

My new "Lair", as I called it, was on the far end of the building, a good distance away from all the maintenance stuff, boilers, etc., normal stuff you’d find in a commercial building. 

Looking at the wall across from that desk (the only furniture that remained), I could tell that half of this building was constructed many years ago, many more years than I thought; the new offices upstairs and parking garage were attached to the old building 7 years ago. You couldn't tell from the front of the building, but half of the interior was already a permanent structure over 100 years old, just one long brick warehouse. With tiny little windows that were mostly broken or covered over with more brick.

Conveniently, it was a short flight upstairs to the main printing room where I spent part of everyday.  There was literally nothing on the walls except that small, framed photo of the woman sitting down on the picnic blanket.  The woman was very attractive, even in the discolored photo.  On the back of the frame was written in faded ink “G.F.S. - 07/02/1934”

The only person I'd see regularly on the sub-basement floor was Reggie, our custodian and my right hand man. Sharing beers with Reggie at the local pub, The Cantina, on Fridays was a regular thing; we were mates before we started working here actually.  The Cantina is where I met him, and Angie.

"Hey Reg, I’m moving my stuff in here today- new office.  IT is coming later. Brother, what is behind this door?"  I asked, pointing towards the corner of the room.

Reggie and I moved some boxes out of the way and stared at it. A small placard with the letters "HHH" was adhered to the bottom corner.

“I don’t know, in face I never knew this was here. Yo, let’s open this mutha.” he said. I could tell he was as excited as I was. He paused for a moment to look at the locking mechanism, thinking.  Reggie scratched his chin and reached into his bag for his key collection.

The door looked like a bank vault, it was made of thick metal, remarkable well-preserved after years of non-exposure down here in this dark, musty room. A small placard readubg "H-H-H Est. 1928" was adhered to the bottom corner.

It had a large, lever-style doorknob and an old-fashioned numerical lock above it that was clearly broken- it wouldn’t turn, it just fell off when we touched it, but it did leave a small hole into the unknown behind it. As a back up (I guess), it had a keyhole above the numerical lock.

"What's in here?" I asked again, now slightly annoyed, yet still curious.  If this is going to be my office, I want to know what’s in here. I knew Reggie wouldn't know but I asked aloud anyway.

“You got me, let me see if one of these old keys work.”

He tried every old key he had in his maintenance closet; we tried every tool he had; but to no success.

Exasperated, Reggie asked, "Are we having a brewski at The Cantina? You're buying me a beer for this."

"Yeah man. Let’s go."

We grabbed our stuff and headed out, disappointed, yet comfortable with the knowledge it’s just an old door, it hasn’t been touched in decades. Maybe I'll just knock the fucking door down...

TUESDAY 10.28

There was really no work to do today so I tried to open the vault door again, but this time I tried using different tools- a sledgehammer and crowbar.  The broken-off numerical lock allowed access to the inside through a small hole, just big enough for the crowbar.  To my surprise it opened, making a creepy, squeaky sound, like fingernails on a chalkboard. It was dark inside, the decades-old light switch did not work of course, but I could see a very large safe along the wall with the office light. Does anyone know it's here? What is in it??  My mind raced. Now my curiosity has reached peak level- I need to know what's in there.  I grabbed my coat, now hanging on the old nail where the photo frame once hanged.  I gotta get Reggie down here now that I figured out how to open it.

I pushed the door shut to test it first though.  The heavy, metal door slowly closed with a very distinctive ‘waaatthuunk’.  That sound raised the hair on the back of my neck.

Once you hear it, you don’t forget it. I shut off the light, wondering, where did the picture frame go?

 

WEDNESDAY 10.29

During lunch break, a few of the chatty Kathys were discussing the upcoming Halloween party, their costumes, the men in the office they liked...

“How about one of us dresses up as G.” a lady in a paisley top suggested during a moment of silence, raising her eyebrows while she said it.

“Oh god, that’s just asking for an attachment.” Angie replied.  Angie is our front desk receptionist, our friend and self-proclaimed resident paranormal expert.  She told me this place is haunted, but I don’t believe that shit.

 I was curious, I had to interrupt, “Excuse me… what’s an attachment?”

“Don’t you know who Grace is, err was..?” the paisley-topped woman asked, I think her name is Helen.

“No.”

“Grace used to work here when this building was an old warehouse, early 1930s.  She died here.  Grace got trapped in the downstairs vault before Christmas break.  Nobody was here to hear her cries for help. She had no family to look for her.” 

She continued, “From what I know she was a single woman, nobody even knew she was missing until they came back in the new year.  Very tragic. The building shuttered it's doors not long after that.”

I’m surprised I never heard this before...

“That vault downstairs, at the end of the building?”

“I believe so, I don’t go down there though.  But I’m glad it’s your office now and no longer a supply closet that I won't go into alone.”

“You’re full of shit, Helen.” someone said, laughing.  I’m glad I wasn’t the only one.

 Helen continued, “Angie here said she’s seen her, ain’t that right Angie?”

“I’m, I’m.. not sure.” Angie replied hesitantly, looking pale, her usual chipper demeanor now flattened.  

“One day I was getting supplies down there and when I turned to leave, I saw a tall woman standing there, she was wearing an old outfit and a puffy purple hat.  It was just for a second- she turned and left so I followed her out of the office, but there was nobody there.  I haven’t gone down there since.”  

 Angie got up and went back to her desk, her hands shaking a little.

“I think you’re all pulling my chain.” I said, not believing a word. Halloween was in the air, ghost stories abound. 

“So, an attachment is when a ghost follows you, home, I imagine?” I asked.

“Yes, exactly.” Helen said with a straight face.  Maybe they did believe this stuff.

“Get the hell outta here.” I said, brushing it off. “So, what is your costume this year?” I interjected to change the subject.  The remaining group seemed pleased with this too.

THURSDAY 10.30

I set up my computer terminal and large HP printer, the oversized printers were upstairs.  I put it in front of the metal door.  It was on wheels, so I just turned it 90º when I wanted to explore the mystery room.

 “Yo, Reg, come down here when you can.  I got the door open.” I texted him.

While on my hands and knees, feeding cable into the wall I noticed a sizeable piece of what appeared to be a purple, Lee Press-On Nail, or some such nail product.  I picked it up and threw it towards the trash can, but missing, the nail now in the corner somewhere.

"Yuck." I thought. 

Reggie then walked in with a flashlight, “Let’s check it out brother.”

Again, the squeaky door noise from Hades startled us; Reggie turned on the flashlight.  There was so much dust in the air we couldn’t see much except the large safe.  We explored what we could see, Reggie’s tool bag propping the door open (We learned early, thankfully, that the door is basically impossible to open from the inside of the vault door.  To prevent getting locked in I tied a rope from the desk leg to the lever as a precaution.)  

There are a date and initials scratched onto the safe, “G.F.S. - 12/31/1934.  Happy New Year”.  The same initials scrawled onto the back of the gold framed photo.

The rest of the day was spent trying to figure out what all this meant.  But, with not much work to do, people are telling each other ghost stories and listening to Thriller. I love Halloween.

As I was packing up, a uniquely dressed woman with red hair and long red nails, entered my office, she was pretty and pale; very striking. I mumbled a quick hello and left- I get nervous around attractive women. I left my office door open as there were still supplies in there, plus I just wanted to get home. The woman seemed familiar, I feel like I’ve seen her before, but I can't remember where.

As I ascended the stairs I heard the faint, but familiar, squeaking sound of the door. I quickened my pace to my car.

FRIDAY MORNING, HALLOWEEN 10.31

“Hey Fred, where did the picture frame go, from downstairs?” I asked my boss.  

 “Oh, I didn’t think you’d want that there.  Ileen at the front desk has it.” he said before diving back into his work.  We did want to finish up a project before the party and I was already finished my portion.

I asked Ileen for the photo frame, she stared at me for an uncomfortably long time, then pulled it out of her drawer.

“You really want this?”

“I do.”

I’m not sure why but I felt it belonged back on the old floor nail in my office wall.  I couldn’t get the nail out anyway. 

“Sure, take it.”

 

HALLOWEEN NIGHT

I saw the woman again at the Halloween party.  She was dressed in the same outfit.  She paused in front the punch bowl and said, “Hello, good to see new faces here.”

“Oh, I’ve been here for a while.  I’m Alex.”  I put my hand out to shake hers but she turned and faded into the throng of dancing people and colored lights.

But I was intrigued.  I put my drink down and looked for Angie.

“Who is that woman with the red dress and wide brimmed hat, long red fingernails?”

“Who?” Angie asked, looking puzzled.

“The woman with the old costume, big purplish hat…” (I don’t know anything about historical dress, but I know it was old.)

Angie just stared at me blankly as her jaw dropped, her face turning pale.

“You saw Grace!” Angie said, now smiling.

I’m thinking the staff may be playing a joke on me now.  They weren’t too thrilled with me after I placed a life-size display of one of our fashion model's mannequins in the middle of the break room last summer.  It scared even me when I turned the floor lights on, temporarily forgetting I put it there.

“Let’s get a drink. I wanna hear all about this.” Angie pulled me by the arm and beelined to the bar.

“So, what did you see?  Tell me! Tell me!” Angie implored.

I was about to spill all the beans when Fred motioned to the DJ to turn down the music, Fred was about to make an announcement...

“We had an amazing third quarter, so for the month of December- and half of November- everyone will work remotely from home.  We’ll discuss the details before Thanksgiving break. Well done everyone. Cheers to an amazing team!”  He held up his glass to a very pleased office staff.  “Payroll will come in once every two weeks and HR is always available anytime, myself included, except don't call me on Fridays." he said, laughing.  "Feel free to come to the office if you need anything but please let Reggie know first. Ok, spin that music back up!!”

Reggie held up his glass and nodded.  I guess his costume is a building custodian? Fucking Reggie.

 It was one of the best Halloween parties in recent memory, I forgot about the woman in the puffy hat.  I even did a few lines of coke with Angie in my office.

"Wanna do a bump?" she asked.

"Let's go." I said as we walked hand in hand downstairs.

She picked up the press-on nail that was on the floor next to the trash can.

 “Oh my god, this is old.” she said after examining it.

 “What do you mean?” I asked.

 “Right here, look.  ‘Lavilee’, this is an old-fashioned lady’s glue-on nail. Sometime they didn't come off, my grandmother told me once.”

 Angie dropped the nail into the trash can, then pulled out a large bag of shiny white powder from her bra.  My eyes widened. I pulled out a large bill and my company credit card.  This is probably the first time anyone ever did coke on this old desk.  Hell, I even used the gold framed photo to cut and arrange the lines.

I held out a folded $100 bill to Angie. She kissed me on the forehead and did two big lines.

"That second line was for Grace." she said with a giggle and a follow-me-upstairs look in her eye. I followed after doing my lines and putting the frame back into the desk drawer. I touched the woman's face before shutting the drawer. A sense of guilt spread through me, but Angie beckoned me back upstairs.

"Come on, silly." she said, rolling her eyes.

WEDNESDAY 11.12

November went by quickly; it is nearly 2 weeks before Thanksgiving break.  I am near completion on my end of year projects and decided to stay at my home for Thanksgiving instead of flying out this year to visit family.  They were a bit disappointed, but they understood and we agreed to meet on Christmas instead for an extended stay.

The last day leading up to the remote work period was so boring, but I kept thinking of all the projects I was going to work on at home in December to keep my spirits up.

I was still sad Halloween was over, it flies by every year. Then I remembered the nail.

I picked it out of the garbage can and examined it.  It appeared to have dried blood on one end, the base. 

I put the nail into a small plastic bag and into the bottom drawer of the desk next to the framed photo Ileen gave me.  I wanted to show the nail to Angie, but sober this time.

I texted Reggie to see if he was still around for a final beer before the break, but he had already left, family stuff to attend to.  He wished me a Happy Holidays though.

“I'll be out of town until December, nobody is going to call me to come back here. Enjoy your break brother, and Happy Holidays."

 “Likewise. Be safe.” I replied.

I wasn't quite ready to leave. I think I was the last person in the building. As soon as Fred left most of the staff vanished. I scrolled Facebook for a while before getting up to go at 5pm, not returning until next year.  I was happy for once.  I put my phone down on the desk and put my hands on my face and let out a silent shout.  Fuck this place, I’m going home and working on being me.  I don’t want to see anyone for weeks, even Reggie, as much as I love the guy.

I glanced over and noticed the vault door was open, but only slightly.  Reggie must have been down here.  I picked up the phone to text him and saw another nail, same color, same manufacturer. This one however was jammed into the door frame.

I opened the door fully, putting the rope on the desk leg and door lever, then saw the gold framed photo of Grace on the floor, clearly visible with the office light.  I picked it up, blew off the dust and touched the face of the woman on the photo.  I swear I just saw the same photo in the desk drawer.  Are there two?

 “Graaace.” I hear someone say in a whisper.  If that is Angie, I’m gonna kill her.  My heartrate is skyrocketing now. Figures she would do something like this to rile me up- I knew she liked me.

This nail had even more dried blood on it.

Behind me, in the darkness, the same darkness I still haven’t fully explored, I hear a shuffling sound, like dancing feet.  I can hear what I think is “I Ain’t Got Nobody” by Louis Armstrong playing, but barely audible, like a warbly Victrola broadcasting on an AM station from another time.  My father played this song when I was a child when I was upset, he would dance around and make funny faces.

But as the dust settled, I see a figure, maybe 15 feet away.  A large, brimmed hat comes into view at the same time as the unsettling, squeaky sound of the metal door sighed, followed by a...

 ‘waaatthuunk’