A paranormal investigation brought a small online crew to a disused office where a sealed reception booth continued admitting visitors long after closing.
Case Record
Case file: URC-002
Archive Cycle: Archive Cycle One: The Intake Cases
Fictional location: Disused office suite, Fenwick Reach Business Court
Primary record: Investigation and access records
Recording status: Not applicable
Case status: Unresolved
The case follows Leila Ward’s investigation of an abandoned reception booth after former caretaker Gareth Pike reported unexplained activity inside the sealed area. Despite disconnected equipment and restricted access, the reception buzzer continued to sound, while the mechanical inner-door release behaved as though somebody remained inside. The investigation offered no reliable explanation for the apparent occupancy.
The Last Admission
Leila Ward crouched beside the half-height security door, bracing one knee on the dusty carpet as she worked the manual release with the flat of her thumb. Behind the clouded glass of the abandoned reception booth, visitor badges lay in shallow trays beside two disconnected telephones. The empty swivel chair faced the corridor, and pale rectangles of old adhesive clung to the glass where opening hours had once been displayed. Gareth Pike stood beside her with the only access key, turning it slowly between his fingers as the remaining fluorescent panels hummed above them.
“You have to lift the catch first,” Gareth said, watching her struggle. “It was stiff for years. They always promised to replace it.”
Leila eased the metal fitting upwards and felt the mechanism settle. “At least something in here still works.”
“That was usually how the place got by,” Gareth replied. He looked past her towards the booth, keeping his shoulders square to the corridor. “People made do. Management called it maintenance.”
She smiled at the familiar bitterness in his voice, though the evening had left her uneasy. The crew had spent money they could scarcely spare reaching Fenwick Reach, and their careful checks had produced little that would justify the visit. Gareth deserved a fair hearing, even if the answer proved to be old wiring and an unpleasant place to work. She pressed the catch once more, watching its matching lever on the reception side lift and settle through the glass. A buzzer sounded behind the partition, sharp enough to make her still her hand against the cool metal.
Leila listened until the noise ended. “Same one?” she asked, glancing towards him.
Gareth gave a small nod. “Visitor waiting for the inner door. That was what it meant when I worked nights.” He slipped the key into his palm. “Sometimes I’d get up before I remembered reception had closed.”
Leila rose and looked through the streaked glass. The telephones had their leads coiled loose beside them, and the visitor-badge trays were thick with dust. “There may be a supply still connected to the buzzer. A bell can have its own circuit.”
“I’ve heard that explanation,” Gareth said. His voice remained even, which troubled her more than anger would have done. “I’ve heard it from people who wouldn’t stay long enough to hear the bell.”
“Then stay with me while I check the release.” Leila held out her hand for the key.
He passed it over at once, though he stepped farther from the booth entrance. She recognised his refusal as something practised. When she had first arrived, she had taken his reluctance for resentment towards the owners and their dismissal of his complaints. Now she noticed how carefully he kept clear of the glass, leaving space for anyone coming through the door.
Before Leila could turn the key, the inside release moved. The small metal lever sank against its spring, held there for the length of a breath. The latch lifted in answer. Leila watched the fitting rise again, slow and ordinary, as if a hand had just let go. Through the glass she could see the empty chair, the bare strip of carpet behind the desk and the full length of the lever. There was nowhere for a person to stand unseen and operate it.
Gareth caught her looking for the mechanism’s other end. “You see why I kept the key?” he asked.
Leila slid it into the lock. “I want to see the back of that desk.”
Gareth stayed in the corridor while she went inside. The air smelled of stale paper and carpet dust. She checked below the counter, the inner frame and the manual linkage, then pressed the release herself to feel its resistance. A firm hand was needed. Behind her, Gareth remained visible through the clouded pane, waiting where he had waited all evening.
When Leila returned, she drew the door shut and turned the key until the lock caught. She handed it back, careful to keep her eyes on the release. Gareth took it with an expression she had mistaken earlier for stubbornness. He was simply waiting for her to understand the difference between an empty building and an empty room.
From beneath the reception desk came three deliberate knocks, spaced like someone waiting to be admitted. Gareth’s hand rose towards the locked door on instinct. Halfway there, he closed his fingers around the key and held them against his chest.
The Fenwick Reach Business Court access record lists Gareth Pike’s earlier visits, while the property owner remains unnamed and an unexplained intermediary reference appears above the entries.
Access Record
Access for Leila Ward’s crew was arranged through an independent production fixer. The accompanying visitor record for Fenwick Reach Business Court left the property-owner field blank. Gareth Pike, the former night caretaker, retained the only key to the sealed reception booth.
The access email placed documentation requirements ahead of liability conditions, following the same unusual ordering found in an earlier case intake form. A six-character intermediary reference appeared alongside the authorisation. The available correspondence contained no confirmation from the property owner or explanation of the reference’s origin.
Witness Statement
Former night caretaker Gareth Pike reported hearing the reception buzzer during his evening rounds, long after the office suite had closed to visitors. The signal was identical to the one previously used to request admission through the inner security door.
Pike recalled occasionally rising to answer before remembering that reception was closed. He eventually refused to enter the booth alone, preferring to remain outside the glass. His complaints received little attention from site management, although he maintained that the sound originated from within the sealed reception area.
Next Case
Before the Instruction
At Bellmere Community Hall, freelance sound technician Nia Holt is dismantling the last of the equipment while volunteer caretaker Sam Deller refuses to unlock the under-stage store. As the building settles into silence, a familiar voice begins giving instructions from behind the locked door, before anyone has spoken them.
