The KPI Graveyard

The KPI Graveyard

Short Story — Halloween Special, PART 1

Every Friday, the managers gathered to celebrate.
All the numbers were green.
Smiles. Congratulations. Another successful week.
Then, without warning, the door slowly creaked open.
The conversation stopped.
Everyone turned.
Nobody entered.
A cold wind swept across the room, scattering papers across the table.
One manager stood up to close the door.
He glanced into the empty hallway.
For a moment, he thought he saw something move at the far end.
He closed the door.
Nobody mentioned it.
The following Monday, the complaints began.
Late deliveries. Defective products. Angry customers.
Yet every Friday, the numbers remained green.
Weeks passed.
The complaints multiplied.
One evening, long after everyone had left, five managers gathered in the same room to investigate.
Outside, the factory stood silent.
Only the faint hum of the fluorescent lights disturbed the stillness.
They examined every report.
The numbers were accurate.
The calculations were correct.
Every department had met its targets.
As they dug deeper, a familiar chill crept up their spines.
They exchanged nervous glances.
Nobody had made a mistake.
Then came a whisper.
So faint that nobody was sure they had heard it.
One manager looked toward the door.
“Did someone say something?”
Nobody answered.
Another whisper.
This time, closer.
The lights flickered.
One of the managers noticed a shadow stretching across the wall.
It moved slowly.
But nobody in the room was moving.
Suddenly, the printer started.
Everyone froze.
The printer had been disconnected for months.
A single sheet emerged.
One manager approached it, his footsteps echoing through the empty room.
His trembling fingers lifted the paper.
All green.
He turned toward the others.
His lips moved, but no words came out.
Then, from somewhere beyond the closed door, a familiar voice whispered:
“Everything is under control.”
Nobody moved.
The printer started again.
Another sheet.
The date was next Friday.
All green.
Below the numbers were five names.
Their names.
One had been crossed out.
Slowly, the managers looked at one another.
There were only four of them in the room.
From the empty chair at the end of the table came a soft, familiar whisper.
“Another successful week.”