Confidential

[WP] You're an intern working at a government facility and stumble upon an unlocked office door. Out of curiosity, you enter and look at the files and computers present. They're about conspiracy theories, and that they're all correct.

*****

"Don't believe whatever you saw in the movies," the head of HR said, eliciting a laugh from us all as the orientation program came to an end. "All those ideas of Area 51, Aliens, secret nuclear weapons, Frankenstein and all that are just hogwash. This place is as boring as hell. Makes we sorta wonder why you chose this job," he said with a mock conspiratorial wink.

We laughed again. He was good at this, and the whole program had been fun. I was posted to the analytics department, as I expected. It was where I wanted to work. Less chances of getting too social and up close with everyone else in the office, which was one of the best parts of my department.

Was I a recluse? Well, one might call me that, and although I'd be offended, there was some truth to it. So I would not argue with it, and that's what made me who I was. The boring guy who took all decisions based on logic.

The best for the job.

Which made the current situation which I was currently in something of a real dilemma.

It was Monday. Mondays are just about everyone's worst day of the week, coming from a short as hell weekend to be thrown back into he whirlpool of work/school. I was looking forward to going back home, soaking in a nice bubble bath and then researching the next cryptocurrency coins I'd be investing in. I know, I know - pretty boring stuff.

But those plans were shelved when I saw the door open.

Ideally, I was supposed to walk past it and continue going wherever I was headed. I wasn't supposed to do a double take or stop. It was an unspoken rule in the job that confidentiality and discretion were essential. Mind your business's and do your job in your given department, that was all. I had done a good job of that up until then, and that door left slightly open shouldn't have interested me. I should have kept on going.

But then my curiosity got the best of me.

That room had remained at the back of my mind since the day of the orientation, even though I tried hard to deny it and suppress those thoughts. But on that day, when we were being briefed on what different rooms were used for asnwe walked down the hall, the HR Head just looked at the room, coughed and said "Oh, sorry," as we moved on.

I didn't want to look around me to confirm of any of the other new recruits considered this strange, because I was sure we were being monitored by someone amongst us, and I would be singled out and 'taken care of' if they noticed.

But Room 237 was always a concern for me.

And that room was open now.

I fought with an inner voice that told me to let myself in for a while, and I lost.

Looking around and confirming that there were no cameras her, I sneaked in and looked around. The room was full of cabinets arranged in a haphazard fashion. Some box-shaped and other skid marks on the ground confirmed that there were some other boxes here that had been removed recently.

So this room was visited regularly, most likely after or before office hours. Why? What was in these cabinets?

I used a hairpin iny wallet to unlock one. Drawing out one of them, I saw its file jacket was marked confidential.

All the alarm bells in my head went off, but I ignored them and opened the file. It was titled the Kennedy Incident, and its pages were yellowed. A musty smell came from them too, and I stifled a cough for fear of getting caught.

Opening it up, I confirmed it was from the 20th Century, 1962 to be precise. It described the preparations and incidents leading to the...

Shit!

It couldn't be.

There was no way...

Conspiracy theories. All of them, the UFO sightings, the speculation that the 1969 moon landings were staged. Nobody ever did make it to the moon. President Kennedy's assassination was a cover up, Lee Harvey Oswald was framed, and...

"What are you doing here?"

I never got to finish that story. To know who ordered the death of JFK. Who planned it, who orchestrated it, and who executed it.

Because the head of HR was at the door. Hanson Murk.

"I-I..."

His eyes widened at the sight of the papers, and then he looked at my face. "You've looked in, haven't you?"

There was no need to lie. Even if he hadn't caught me with the papers in my hand, there was no reason for me to be in this room. No amount of explaining would ever get me out of this.

I had to resort to blackmail.

"Yes I did, and I have these," I said, waving the papers at him. "A really incriminating evidence this is, isn't it? I'm sure the public will be quite interested..."

He frowned deeply.

"...unless I'm allowed to leave here with a tiny compensation of about a million dollars. Can't be so much now, can it?"

I was pushing my luck a little bit, but I was going to get something out of it if I had any chance.

"Is that so?" He asked, coming closer.

I stood my ground. "Yes. I'm not intimidated by you, Hanson. I have the upper hand here, and I'm not afraid to..."

I didn't see the karate chop coming. Right down at a point between my shoulder and neck, it came with a paralyzing force that left me conscious, but unable to move any part of my body. I was basically a loving statue.

'Wh..mmgh" even speaking was quite impossible.

"You should have just been the good employee that you were and stayed out of what's not your business. Now you messed up thrice, by entering here, opening and reading those documents, and trying to blackmail me."

He smirked before continuing, "The ball is still in my court; I'll raise an alarm now, and you'll be hurled over to my car to be rushed to the hospital having collapsed in an 'unclear' set of events. You'll never make it to a hospital. Area 53 is where we conduct 'human' experiments for top secret, unethical projects, like super soldiers and so. That's yet another valid conspiracy theory you didn't have a chance to confirm."

I struggled to scream, but nothing came forth.

"We've hardly recorded any successes in all the experiments there, but it'll be interesting - what will be done to your body of course. And then, the disposal of your loose end self will be taken care of, just like that."

I glared at him.

"Ah, yes. Suspicions, people will talk - that's what you think, eh? We'll just cover that up like we've been doing for decades now. And if anyone gets too close, we dispose of them too."

He began to drag me out into the hallway. I was slipping in and out of consciousness now, the blow was quite debilitating.

All I thought about was how I'd chosen that one moment to abandon my logical process, and how I was about to die for it.

*****

A week of writer's block coupled with exams around he corner and I bring this to you, one of my least favourite works. I'll just leave it here for your scrutiny while I try to make a better masterpiece tomorrow or the next.

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