One of my tasks was to "manage" some of the IT equipment we had stored in cellar. Managing meant taking things in and out, lifting and throwing away old equipment. One evening I was working on unpacking new deliveries down in the cellar I heard the all-to-familiar sound of heels clicking from the archive area.I was trying to make some sound so who ever it was would know that she was not alone. Did not plan to scare someone to death. I heard her unlocking the door to the archive, and eventually the door slammed. I continued my work. After some time the door opened again, and the clicking came closer and around the corner. I was a bit excited wondering who it was."Hello?" she said. Then I knew who it was. Kristina from the Archive team stood in front of me came around the corner looking beautiful as always. We had been flirting during a company party, but nothing ever happened. She smiled, asked what I was doing there. She was in her late thirties, wearing a knee-long grey knitted. The glass and pitcher are still on the table so I pull my right hand out from under the heavy blanket and reach for the pitcher to pour a fresh glass. The pitcher is only about half a meter away, but as I reach out for it, it seems impossibly far. I lean up on my right side and try shuffle over a little in my bed but as I pressed my left hand into the mattress I fall back over like my hand wasn't even there. I pulled my arm out from under the blanket and scream, my left hand and forearm are gone. There is just a medical cap over where the limb used to be. I held it up and couldn't seem to stop screaming. My hand is gone. My arm is gone. But I can feel them, I can feel where it should be but my eyes are seeing nothing.I use my right hand and fling the blanket off, still screaming. The blanket goes flying onto the table and sends the pitcher and glass into the floor where they shatter and water seeps across the floor into the dark. I stare down at my leg and scream even harder, my left.
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