Paper Cut: The Office Murder Mystery - Chapter 1

The clock on the wall of the break room read 10:14pm. The killer stood over the body, a bloody pair of scissors in their bare hand. Bright red blood trickled down the killer’s cheek and dripped down on their blue shirt. The atmosphere was still and quiet. Then, a sound came from the office in the next room. The office front door opened. The killer quickly turned off the break room light and looked through the blinds into the office area.

Jim Halpert came into the office. He headed towards his desk and turned on his small desk light. He opened a top drawer. He was wearing a pair of gray sweat pants and a black t-shirt. He had a cell phone pressed in his shoulder as he used his hands to search for something.

“I know Karen.” Jim said hurriedly, “I have the number here.”

Jim picked up a piece of paper and held it in the lamp light of his desk. He read aloud the phone number printed on it.

“I know, but if you’re gonna use me for your answering service, you should at least be patient enough to wait until morning to get the phone number. “ Jim said exasperated. “I understand that she’s your sister and you needed that number. Next time have Pam send it to your voicemail. No, I don’t understand your problem with her!”

Jim sighed in irritation. “Uh uh, I’m not coming over tonight. I’m tired. You’re cranky. You made me leave my comfortable apartment and drag myself over to the one place I hate to be in the middle of the night. It could have waited until morning. Okay, I’ll see you in the tomorrow.

Jim clicked the phone shut. He crumpled the piece of paper and tossed it into the garbage can. The killer accidently hit a metal blind slat with a hand. It made a small click. The killer stood back quickly and strengthened the grip on the bloody scissors. Jim heard the click and looked up. He stood silent for a moment listening for any other strange noises. He glanced over at the darkened break room. Jim took one step in the direction of the break room door. The killer backed up and slid into a shadow.

Jim’s phone rang loudly in the still night. He paused distracted and opened the phone. Looking closely at the number, he pulled a frustrated face and answered the call.

“Yes?” Jim snapped, “No, I am not stopping by the Wendy’s to buy you a chicken sandwich. Why? Because I have approximately 10 hours before I have to hall myself back into here. I want to go home, relax and get some sleep. No…I am not mad at you. I’m just tired.”

Jim turned back towards the office entrance. He reached over and snapped off his office lamp. He ended the call to Karen and this time, turned the phone off before clicking it shut. He took out his keys and left, locking the door behind him.

The killer waited for a full five minutes before moving out of the shadow, all the while wiping bloody hands off on the blue shirt. The killer headed to a small closet in the corner, opened the door and removed an old jacket that had been left by a previous employee. Donning the jacket, the killer covered their bloody clothes and placed the bloody scissors into the jacket pocket.

Walking quickly out of the break room, the killer went to Jim’s desk and opened the top drawer. Using a tissue, the killer removed a pair of stainless steel scissors. The scissors had “Jim’s Scissors – Remove from Jim’s desk and this will self destruct” etched into the side of the orange plastic handle.

The killer walked over to Angela’s desk and opened the bottom file drawer, carefully removing the small metal box. Prying open the lock with Jim’s scissors, the killer removed the petty cash that was enclosed. The destroyed lock box was then placed back on Angela’s desk.

The killer walked back to the break room and flicked the overhead light back on. Bending down, the killer paused for a second before plunging Jim’s scissors into the gaping wound in the victim’s neck.

Standing back and examining their handiwork, the killer looked closely for any clues that could give them away. The body was face up. It was clothed in jeans and a green flannel shirt. His arms were bent at an odd angle, one hand reaching towards his throat. The victim’s legs were splayed out and one was angled under the dining table. A large pool of blood was already congealing under his head. His eyes were staring up and open at the ceiling. The once handsome and boyish face of Roy Anderson was open mouthed, as if in a muted scream.

The killer stood for one more minute, coldly gazing at the dead man, and then turned to leave. The break room light was turned back off and the killer quietly exited the office.