THE BROKEN TILE – Short Story with Suspense
Photo credit: wintersixfour from morguefile.com
“But why is the management not looking into this matter?” Mr K. K. Rathi’s wrath was at its peak.
“It is sir, even I am worried right now, I will look into it at the earliest” I said.
“Look Gupta, I want a report by Monday.”
The senior manager left me with major weights on my head. The last week in the office had been very perturbing. Four of our major employees had quit the job and that too without any prior notice. The office just received an email the next day about the resignation. When tried to contact, none of them answered their phones. The HR department faced grave issues.
As I finished my day, I headed out towards the parking. The parking was on the other side of the lobby. As I reached the end of the lobby, I noticed that the echo of my footsteps suddenly changed. It became a dull thunder, rather than a sharp sound. I ignored it, and went to my home.
The next day was quite normal until another mail was received at the reception. This time, Mr. Amit Singh, a technical advisor had resigned. The circumstances were the same, no prior notice, no problems on the job at all. He was a very senior employee and had just one year left for retirement. His resignation at this point of time was quite baffling.
I decided to look into the matter closely myself. Keeping my other engagements at bay, I ordered the records of these people to be brought to my office. I went through the files one by one. There seemed to nothing abnormal about them. These were normal people, graduated from different colleges, all of different age groups, of different designations. There was absolutely no connection between them. I wondered what happened with these people.
I felt ill in such a tense atmosphere. I thought to call it a day, and start collecting my things. As I was about to enter the parking, I noticed the same dull thunderous sound. This time, it definitely made an impression on me. I retreated few steps, and started heading towards the parking again. The echo in the empty lobby changed abruptly. I noticed the sound came when I stepped on a particular tile. Our office had those big vitrified tiles and this one particular tile seemed to have some problem. I called the janitor to ask him to come and check it out but he didn’t answer the phone. It was such a trivial matter but I don’t know why I was attracted to it. I always liked to do stuff which involved screw drivers and hammers. And though I was a grown up man, but somehow, those childish fantasies never left my side. I decided to check out the tile myself the next day.
The following day brought nothing new with it. I was loaded with extra pile of work, but my mind kept cerebrating about the “missing” employees. By now, I had started presuming that these people have not left the job at their own will, but they were forced to do so, and somewhere deep down I dreaded that something bad has happened to them.
The day passed uneventfully but I waited for everyone to leave the office. Then I went to the parking noticing the weird sound in that one particular tile again. I opened my car bonnet and took out the toolbox.
“It’s time to see what is under the broken tile” I thought to myself.
I started my work. After a few minutes, I was drenched in sweat. If someone had seen me then, he would think I have gone insane, the manager of the office hammering a tile in an empty office. Finally after few blows, the tile gave away. But as soon as the hollow tile cracked, my nostrils were filled with such a horrible acrid smell that I automatically vomited. After a few seconds I managed to hold myself up and removed the pieces of the tile.
What I saw next was way beyond to be believed. Five rotten heads of our ex-employees, all covered in polythene bags, laid in front of me. My senses were in shock, I was unable to able to move, unable to think. I felt nauseated, I managed to get up and started to leave.
NEXT DAY
The receptionist was in a great dilemma. Everytime news of a resignation came, it was she who has to deliver it to the senior officials. She thought to whom she should approach because it was a big one this time.
She went through the hall and knocked the on the senior manager’s office door.
“Sir, I have some news.”
“Yes” K. K Rathi didn’t even bother to look up.
“Sir, I have another of those mails. We have one more resignation.”
“Who is it this time, and why did you come to me instead of Gupta?”
“Because the person who has resigned this time is our manager, Mr. Gupta himself.”
__END__
