The Factory's Phantom Supervisor: A Haunting of the Desk

The factory, once a beacon of industry, now lay in ruins, its skeleton of steel and concrete standing as a testament to a bygone era. The night shift was always the most eerie, with the hum of machinery replaced by the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards. It was in this atmosphere of desolation that a new employee, Li Wei, found himself.

Li Wei was a young man with a strong work ethic, hired to help with the cleanup of the factory. He had heard the rumors about the factory's ghostly supervisor, but he dismissed them as mere tales spun by the overworked night shift workers. His only concern was to finish his job and move on to his next opportunity.

The factory was vast, with rows of desks and filing cabinets stretching out in an endless line. Li's task was to sort through the papers, a seemingly mundane chore that would take weeks to complete. He had just begun his work when he noticed a peculiar desk at the end of the row. It was larger than the others, and there was a strange, almost tangible sense of presence around it.

Curiosity piqued, Li approached the desk. The surface was covered in dust, but beneath it, he could see the outline of a nameplate: "Supervisor Zhang." He had heard whispers that this desk was where the supervisor had worked before his mysterious disappearance years ago.

As Li began to clean the desk, he noticed something odd. The drawers would not open. He pushed and pulled, but they remained stubbornly shut. Frustrated, he decided to move on, but the desk's presence lingered with him.

The next night, Li returned to the desk. This time, he brought a flashlight. The light revealed a hidden compartment beneath the desk. He pried it open and found a stack of old photographs and a worn-out journal. The photographs showed a man who looked strikingly like the factory's founder, but with a younger, more vigorous appearance. The journal, however, was the most intriguing find.

The journal was filled with entries detailing the founder's obsession with the factory's success. He spoke of the long hours, the grueling work, and the sacrifices made by his employees. The last entry was particularly disturbing. It spoke of a vision of a ghostly figure at the desk, watching over the factory with an unblinking gaze.

Li's heart raced as he read the journal. He felt a chill run down his spine, and he looked around, expecting to see the ghostly figure at any moment. But there was nothing. He put the journal back in the compartment and left the desk, but the feeling of being watched persisted.

The next night, Li's fear turned to terror. As he worked, he heard a whisper, "You're not worthy." He spun around, but there was no one there. The whisper followed him, growing louder and more insistent with each passing moment. He ran to the exit, but the doors were locked. He was trapped.

Li's panic reached its peak when he saw the ghostly figure standing at the desk, its eyes glowing with an eerie light. The figure raised a hand, and Li felt a cold breeze brush against his skin. He collapsed to the floor, his mind racing with fear and confusion.

The next morning, Li was found unconscious in the factory. He was rushed to the hospital, but the doctors could find no physical cause for his condition. Li's colleagues spoke of seeing him at the desk, his face twisted in terror, before he collapsed.

The factory's ghostly supervisor had claimed another victim. The night shift workers were in an uproar, and the factory's future was uncertain. Li Wei, the new employee who had dared to confront the phantom supervisor, had become the first of many to fall prey to the haunting of the desk.

The factory was eventually closed, its secrets buried beneath the ruins. The desk, with its hidden compartment and the journal of the founder, remained untouched. It was said that the factory's ghostly supervisor still watched over the desk, waiting for the next unsuspecting soul to walk through the factory's doors.

The Haunting of the Desk was a chilling reminder that some secrets are best left buried, and that the past can reach out and grab hold of the present in the most terrifying ways.