The Heir's Dominance

4

CLICK

The sound of the lock’s hinge clicking into place was so satisfying. Harry let out a long sigh, rubbing his chest as he began to relax. For the first time since he’d arrived at this shop earlier that evening, he felt he could breathe a sigh of relief.

BZZZZZT! BZZZZZT! BZZZZZT!

The vibration from the mobile phone in Harry's trouser pocket broke his concentration. The phone’s default ringtone sounded incredibly loud.

Harry fumbled in his trouser pocket somewhat hurriedly. He pulled out his smartphone. The name displayed on the screen made him frown instantly.

Mr. Thomas—Finance Manager

Harry let out a soft sigh. He rubbed his temples, which had suddenly started to throb.

“Especially now…” he muttered before pressing the green button and holding the mobile to his ear. “Yes, Mr. Thomas? Sorry, sir, I’m already out of the office…”

"Harry! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

Mr Thomas’s shout blared out of the phone’s speaker at such a loud, shrill volume that Harry instinctively pulled the phone a few centimetres away from his ear.

“I’m at my granny's shop, sir. What’s the matter?” asked Harry, trying to remain professional even though his tone was curt due to exhaustion.

“Your bald Granny’s shop?!” shouted Mr. Thomas hysterically on the other end of the line. His voice sounded choppy, like interference on an old radio signal.

“The third-quarter financial report you worked on and sent yesterday afternoon… it’s a complete mess! All the figures in the system have turned into strange red symbols! Are you mad to have sent all this?!”

Harry furrowed his brow deeply. His meticulous accountant’s nature immediately kicked in, prompting him to defend himself.

“What do you mean, sir? I checked and double-checked it three times before submitting that file this afternoon, sir. All the reconciliations matched up perfectly! There’s no way the figures could have changed on their own!”

“Do you think I’m lying?!” shouted Mr. Thomas. His voice sounded increasingly unnatural; there was a heavy undertone resonating beneath it that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end.

“Come to the office RIGHT NOW!”

At that very moment, the padlock pendant around Harry's neck began to vibrate violently and grow scorching hot.

Through his beginner-level inner vision, which was still active, Harry's gaze narrowed sharply. Through the speaker hole and the crack in the screen of the mobile phone in his hand, he could see a wave of pitch-black toxic smoke bursting out!

"You were the last person to leave the fourth floor this afternoon!" shouted Mr. Thomas before a loud screech cut him off.

BZZZZZZT!

"Mr. Thomas, calm down! I’m heading straight to the office now. Please make sure nobody fiddles with my computer!”

Harry half-shouted into his mobile phone as he ran through the darkness of the antique shop’s forecourt. Behind him, the shop’s old wooden door creaked loudly before closing automatically; he placed the Barong mask he’d just acquired into the display case.

“You’ve got to get here straight away, Harry!" Boss Thomas’s voice on the other end of the line sounded extremely emotional and panicked, punctuated by a screeching static that grew increasingly intense until it pierced his eardrums. “If this report gets messed up, I’ll sack you tonight!”

“I’ll be there straight away, sir!”

BIP… BIP… BIP…

The phone connection cut out abruptly. The screen of the mobile phone in Harry ’s hand went completely dark, turning pitch black as if the battery—which had only just been fully charged—had been completely drained in an instant.

“Strange… but the battery’s still full,” muttered Harry, puzzled, as he shook his smartphone.

“It’s not your battery that’s run out, lad,” the voice of the Padlock Spirit echoed casually right next to Harry's left ear. The ethereal figure in a black suit floated calmly, following him wherever he went.

“Boy…” whispered the Spirit, his voice suddenly becoming very tense and heavy. “Something far more dangerous and bloodthirsty than this mask… has just risen at your workplace.”

“This is the work of a rather powerful spirit,” continued the Spirit of the Padlock, tapping his chin.

"That creature can cut off signals and absorb electromagnetic fields from electronic devices around it. What’s happening at your workplace is clearly its doing. Remember, lad, any evil spirit that rises can take a human life."

Harry ignored the spirit’s threatening ramblings. His main focus right now was saving his job. He leapt into Jack’s silver saloon car, which was parked at the side of the road.

Jack, who had only just come round from fainting and still looked dazed behind the wheel, was absolutely flabbergasted to see Harry get in, panting heavily and with his shirt stained with dried blood.

“Harry! Where on earth have you been?! There was a creepy shadow out there just now.”

“Start the car now, Jack!” Harry cut in firmly, his eyes fixed straight ahead. “To the head office. Now!”

Seeing the tension and seriousness on Harry's face, Jack didn’t dare to argue. He immediately pressed the accelerator pedal to the floor, speeding off.

For someone like Harry, the third-quarter financial report was a matter of life and death at the office. If that file were corrupted, his position would be under threat.

***

Twenty minutes later, the silver saloon came to a halt in the car park of the Mori Tower Building—a modern, fifteen-storey office block where Harry and Jack had staked their futures.

Harry stepped out of the car, gazing intently up at the building that had captured his attention. To Jack, the concrete structure looked perfectly ordinary. Several floors were still illuminated by white neon lights, indicating that some employees were still struggling to finish their overtime.

However, as soon as Harry blinked and his fledgling Inner Eye reacted, the scene before him changed drastically and horrifically.

The fourth floor of the building—which housed the Accounting and Finance division—appeared to be shrouded in a thick, blackish-purple mist.

The eerie mist swirled slowly, like a toxic whirlpool, around the outer glass window. A faint red glow occasionally flickered through the thick mist.

“Look at that, Jack! That mist is absolutely mad!” Harry exclaimed instinctively, pointing towards the fourth-floor window.

Jack, standing beside him, looked up too, squinting with a puzzled expression.

“What fog are you on about, Harry? It’s perfectly clear out here—are you just tired or something?”

Harry suddenly realized. That terrifying sight could only be seen by him alone, through his newly awakened supernatural vision.

“Don’t let that cowardly friend of yours come up,” whispered the Spirit of the Padlock right into Harry's ear. “He won’t be of any help at all; in fact, he’ll just be a nuisance and a burden to you.”

Harry swallowed hard. The Spirit of the Padlock had a point: taking Jack, who panicked so easily, along would only put his best friend’s life at risk.