Marg, the Auditor General, dropped the last of her files into her case. “Are you coming?”
Sandy looked up from the ledger she was concentrating on. “No, you go, I really want to get this entered so I can enjoy a long weekend.”
“Ok but that means you’ll be the last one here.” Marg gave her a devilish grin.
Sandy sniffed, “Yeah so?”
“Aren’t you afraid of the Rat Boy?”
“Urban legend!” Sandy laughed, she’d heard the tales of the Rat Boy that lurked under the Music Conservatory. It grew more ridiculous with each telling. “Go,” she waved Marg off.
“Suit yourself, the main doors will lock behind you, so make damn sure you have your cars keys, cause I’m not coming back for your ass.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
Two hours later Sandy set down her pen, stretched and yawned. “Thank God this job is over.” She closed the ledger and gathered up her purse. Now she could rest for two full days before going to the next Audit job. She picked up her briefcase, purse, and coat, checking that ‘yes’ her keys were in her purse pocket.
As Sandy turned off the lights to the boardroom, she realized that the lights in the concert hall were also off. She contemplated turning the light back on and propping the door open, then shook her head. “Don’t be silly Sandy.” She let the door close behind her and waited for her eyes to adjust.
The room before her was 100ft deep with rectangular windows 40ft up. As her eyes became accustomed to the low light, she could now see the main doors at the end, they too had small windows.
Sandy focused on her exit. She kept her head high, back straight, and walked calmly. The stories of Rat Boy entering her mind. The last supposed victim a young musician who stayed late one night, only to never be seen again. The thought of being dragged down into the sewers by a giant rat gnawed at her mind.
Sandy felt a stray thread tickle her calve and she twitched her leg to make it stop. Then a damp fur smell reached her nose and goose bumps broke across her arms. The tickle came again, now on her ankle. Sandy’s insides turned to jelly as “Rat Boy” crossed her mind.
That’s his tale, she thought and clenched her jaw. Don’t turn around, keep going. The door was ten feet away. She sped up, her heels loud on the marble floor. Now it sounded like sharp claws clicking behind her. Sandy broke into a cold sweat, dropped her briefcase, and ran. She flung herself against the metal bar on the door, falling out into the empty night.
The door slammed behind her. She turned to look, there was a pale gray face, with beady red eyes in the window. Heart pounding wildly Sandy laughed, no matter, she was out.
Then she noticed her purse was no longer on her shoulder.