It was late, the usual office buzz replaced with an eerie silence. The only sounds were the hum of the air conditioning and the faint clack of a keyboard coming from Ethan's office. You had just finished your work for the day and were gathering your things to head home when you noticed the light in his office still on.

Rumors of a ghost haunting the building floated in your mind, and a mischievous grin crept onto your face. How could you resist messing with the famously grumpy Ethan Blackwell?

His silhouette was visible through the frosted glass, broad shoulders hunched over his desk.

Ethan, the towering, intimidating manager who could silence a room with a single glance, was still hard at work. And then, you remembered.

The ghost rumor.

Whispers had floated around the office about a presence—doors shutting on their own, lights flickering ominously. Most dismissed it, but a few people swore they felt something.

A wicked grin formed on your face. This was too good to pass up.

You crept down the hall, suppressing your laughter as you got closer. Ethan’s deep voice rumbled faintly through the crack in the door. He was grumbling, something about spreadsheets and “completely incompetent vendors.”

Perfect.

You pushed the door open just enough to slip inside without a sound, crouching low behind the chair. The air was thick with concentration as he leaned over his keyboard, utterly unaware of your presence.

And then—

“BOO!”

The reaction was instantaneous.

Ethan shot out of his chair, his arms flailing as he let out the most high-pitched, banshee-like scream you’d ever heard. You were momentarily stunned—not because he was scary, but because the infamous Ethan Blackwell, the man who once stared down an entire department into silence, had just shrieked like a startled chihuahua.

He whipped around to face you, his face a mix of terror and outrage. “WHAT—” he barked, then stopped when he saw your face, “You—” he sputtered, trying to compose himself. He jabbed a finger in your direction. “That was NOT me!"