Overnight (The Red Night Archive #1)

Chapter 1

Victoria

“Damn it. Not again.”

I love technology. I really do. But right now? I could throw this work phone straight through my office window.

From what I heard earlier today, everyone’s tech has been glitching for the last few hours. My desk phone specifically has been cutting in and out, so I know it’s true.

I’m trying to wrap up my last few calls before I can finally leave. Of course, the one person I need to reach is completely unreachable.

I really need to confirm the final project deadline before tomorrow afternoon, because once he’s gone on vacation, he won’t give a shit about any of this.

Though, I’d be the same if I were in his shoes.

It’s already 7 p.m., so I know he’s probably not even in the office anymore. Still, I tried everything from his office number to his personal cell.

Absolutely nothing.

The monotone voice just keeps repeating the same phrase on every outbound call, “Your call cannot be completed as dialed.”

This is really starting to piss me off. I put in extra time to finish this tonight so I wouldn’t have to deal with it tomorrow.

Why is it always that the second I’m finishing things up, everything suddenly decides to stop working?

Accounting isn’t for the weak. It’s just me, endlessly punching numbers into a system that picks and chooses when it feels like cooperating. Half of the time, it doesn’t.

“Fuck it,” I mutter to myself.

I log out of my computer swiftly and push back from the desk. I don’t even know why I stayed so late. I should’ve left hours ago. It’s not like I get paid overtime. I just burned my free time sitting here instead of being home.

I could’ve watched another three episodes of Jujutsu Kaisen by now.

I grab my purse and shove my phone inside, already moving toward the elevator. Once I get to it, I scan my keycard for it to open.

But instead of the doors opening, the scanner blinks red twice.

My eyes narrow at it.

Yet again, technology is being an asshole.

I try it again. And again. And every fucking time, it still flashes red.

“Fucking A.” I whisper under my breath.

I don’t even bother hiding the irritation as I turn away. I really don’t want to take the stairs, but obviously, I’m not getting the easy way out.

My heels hit the marble, clicking across it as I make my way to the stairwell door. I scan my card over this scanner and again, it flashes red.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I hover the keycard over the machine time and time again and just like the elevator, it wants to be an asshole too. I glance down at the keycard to check for any damages that could be disrupting my exit, but there’s nothing besides minor scuffs.

I pull my phone back out of my purse and scroll to maintenance in my contacts. This isn’t even the first time the tech here has gone to shit.

Marvin’s nice though. Like, actually nice. He’ll come up after hours if I ask politely.

Well, he would.. if my phone actually worked.

I hit call, and nothing happens. There isn’t a ring noise, and it doesn’t playback a message like the office phone did.

What the hell is going on tonight? First the phones here, then the elevator, then the stairwell. And now my own damn phone, the one I pay for, won’t even connect.

My anxiety worsens. This is my nightmare. I don’t like the idea of being here alone, in almost complete darkness.

I do not want to be stuck here overnight. The building feels eerie and it reminds me of the vibes you’d get from a horror movie.

That amps my anxiety through the roof and my hands start to sweat because of it.

I’ve seen P2. I know how this ends.

Some creepy fuck shows up and kidnaps me.

The fucking end.

I start cycling through my options.

I could make some big sign and slap it on the window, hoping someone out there actually sees it. I could try to break the stairwell door, even though I already know that’s not happening. Or.. I stay.

I could crash in my office. Wedge a chair against the door like it might actually keep something out. Something other than a ghost.

That’s the only option I’ve come up with that doesn’t sound completely stupid.

I guess that’s the plan. I’ll stay here and keep trying to reach someone.

I could try to call-

Nope. Absolutely not.

I’m not fucking calling him. I swore that dickhead off.

My heels click against the floor again as I head back to my office. I dial my co-worker Zoe’s number as I step inside, pushing the door shut behind me and jamming a chair under the handle like I said I would.

I hold the phone to my ear and nothing happens.

No ring and no stupid automated voice practically telling me to fuck off.

What in the actual fuck.

I don’t usually drop the F-bomb this much, but everything seems to be going against me today, and I’m not enjoying it.

I shut the blinds on the big window next to my door, tugging them closed as fast as I can.

It makes me feel better, like if no one can see me, I’m somehow safer.

It also cuts off the dark that dreadfully sits outside my door, which I’m more than okay with.

I don’t do well with the dark. Why I keep staying here after-hours, I honestly don’t know.

Once that’s done, I move over to the small velvet green sofa and drop onto it, kicking off my heels in the process. I lean back and start flipping through different apps like Facebook, Instagram and TikTok; just to see if something works.

Nope.

Of course not. Not one fucking thing has gone right today.

My brain immediately jumps to the worst possible conclusion. Maybe some other country finally got sick of us and hit us with an EMP or something, because at this point, that’s the only thing that would make sense.

Or my luck is just so bad that AT&T decided to be useless again, and the building’s tech picked tonight to die right along with it.

I grip my phone, trying not to throw it across the room. I’m not obsessed with social media and I don’t enjoy talking to anyone most of the time, but being completely cut off like this? Yeah, that’s not my idea of a good night.

It’s like every ounce of control I have just got ripped away. I can’t reach anyone, and I can’t even leave the building. This has got to be the worst fucking day ever.

When I put my phone down, I notice how quiet it actually is here. So quiet I can hear the air conditioning kick on, pushing air through the vent above me. Why in the hell was the electricity working, but the Wi-Fi for the building is completely down? My phone itself isn’t even working right.

The couch creaks as I shift slightly.

My stomach drops into my ass.

There’s no way I can sit here all night in silence. My brain would absolutely invent horrors just to fill the space. I watch way too many murder documentaries for my own good.

Just as I start convincing myself it’s all in my head, something thuds against my office door. I snap upright, eyes locked on it. “Hello?”

I don’t hear anyone move or say anything.

Yeah, probably just my brain trying to scare the shit out of me.

I ease back down onto the couch, trying to tell myself I’m fine. Then three sharp knocks bang against the door. I shoot back up, scooting to the edge of the couch. “Who’s there?”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Fuck this.

“Listen, motherfucker,” I shout. “I have a taser, and I know how to use it.”

That’s a lie. I’ve never even read the instructions. I have zero clue how to actually use it.

It’s silent again.

It takes everything I have just to pull myself off the couch and move over to the blinds. I take a shaky breath, then lean forward, peering through them.

There’s nothing.

The whole area is empty. Just like before.

I step away from the window, edging back toward the sofa.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The door rattles on its hinges, and I jolt, stumbling toward the back of the room. My eyes land on my purse, sitting just a few feet away. I inch toward it, careful not to make a sound. For all I fucking know, whoever’s out there could break the door down at any second.

I unzip it quickly and pull out my taser, holding it in front of me to possibly fight off whatever’s coming.

I’m going to die here.

I’m too young to die.

And here, of all places? God, I hate this fucking job. I should’ve just moved back home and worked in my dad’s office. Anything would’ve been better than this.

I don’t even know how long I’ve been standing before my legs start to ache.

Slowly, I sink to the floor, leaning against the small shelf beside me.

My eyes stay trained on the door.. at least until they start to flutter shut against my will.

With all the extra unpaid hours I’ve been putting in, I guess I didn’t realize just how tired I actually was.

Clutching the taser in my hands gives me a tiny sense of safety. And slowly, but surely, I succumb to exhaustion.