A Likable Person

In the late afternoon at Voorstraat, people came out in big groups from the numerous commercial buildings and offices. It was the time where most people finish working, so they were all rushing to go home to their families or just to get away from their offices as soon as possible. Their faces looked tired; their shirts that were tucked had gone messy, but they didn't care. All they cared about was getting home.

In one of the buildings where many people were hurrying out, inside an office that was separated from the other sections by a glass wall, there was a man who was still sitting in front of a typewriter. His fingers were dancing around the keys in a swift movement, showing his expertise in doing his job. His eyes were following the new letters that appeared on the piece of white paper, while the machine was constantly making a tapping noise. Every once in a while, when he heard a ding sound, he would push the carriage back to return it to its original position when typing a new line.

The man looked to be in his early thirties with sharp brown eyes and brown hair. He wasn't good looking, but he wasn't ugly either. His clean-shaven face was just plain looking, but it exuded warmth and friendliness, which made people talking to him tend to like him better. His overall appearance was very neat and clean, even though he had been in the office for hours, he still looked fresh, except for his eyes, which looked tired.

Much like the owner, the desk was also clean and tidy. The neatly organized desk didn't have a lot of stuff on it. Besides the typewriter, there was a tidy stack of paper and a small pot of plant for decoration. There was a black landline phone and also a black, square pencil holder placed next to the potted plant. At one corner of the desk, there was a name tag that read 'Daan Holsten'.

Tap... tap...

The sound of typing resounded in the now almost empty office building, coming out from the open door that connected Daan Holsten's office to the common workspace. In the cubicles, there were only two other people who were still working, while the others had been left empty. One of them, a man in his thirties, finished writing something on a piece of paper and cleaned up his desk. He got up and walked up to Daan Holsten's office with his tired face.

"Hey, boss. I'm going home now. Are you not going?" he asked in a friendly manner, but still showing respect.

Daan looked at the man standing just by the door without stopping what he was doing. "I'm not finished writing this yet. You go on ahead," he said with a slight smile then returned to his work.

"Okay. Finn is still here." he pointed at the shared office behind him with his head.

Daan took a glance and nodded.

"So, what about the thing I asked earlier?" the man asked in a hopeful tone.

Daan remembered right away what the man was talking about; he had asked Daan to take a week off because his wife was going to give birth anytime soon, and he wanted to be there for her.

Daan said in a reassuring and friendly voice, "Don't worry about it. You can still have your week off. I'll make sure your work is covered."

"Thank you! You really are the best!" said the man with a bright, relieved smile.

"Haha," he laughed, and then added, "Anyway, send my regards to Emma."

"Okay! I'll be going then. Have a good one." the man waved at Daan and walked towards the exit with light steps.

"You too!" shouted Daan from his office as he watched the man exiting through a door.

The tapping sound continued in that quiet office building. Daan Holsten seemed to need to finish whatever he was doing today; that was why he couldn't leave his office yet. His brown eyes looked reddish from staring at writing the whole day. His fingers were still able to move fast even though he was tired.

The other man, who was called Finn, finally stood up from his desk and grabbed his backpack. He walked towards Daan's office and leaned at the door frame.

"I'm done. Going home now," he said with an easy-going tone.

Something inside Daan got triggered. He just detected a lie being told in front of him and it somehow made him want to burst out in anger. However, he was good at controlling himself, so he quickly suppressed the split-second rage. He looked at Finn without any change of expression. His eyes still exuded friendliness which was accompanied by his warm smile.

"You just lied, didn't you?" he said with a very assured tone while smiling meaningfully. It sounded like he was teasing the other person instead of accusing him.

"Dang! How could you always tell?" asked Finn in disbelief.

"Trade secret," he said vaguely, then added, "Now, tell me, which one was a lie? Be honest, you know you can't lie to me," Daan said matter-of-factly.

"The going home part. I'm actually going out with friends to a bar," he scratched the back of his head like a child who had been caught red-handed.

"Have fun then. I'm your boss, not your mom. Just don't get too drunk, you still need to come to work tomorrow," said Daan with a tone that wasn't judgmental or condescending at all. It was as if he was speaking to a friend instead of a subordinate.

"Thanks, Daan. You're the best!" he said happily. "Are you going to stay here until late again?" asked Finn curiously.

"Yes. I need to finish these reports," said Daan shortly.

"You should get a girlfriend. That way, you wouldn't be too much of a workaholic," Finn spoke casually.

"I don't have time for one. You know I'm a busy man, don't you?" he said jokingly.

"I can introduce you to some of my friends. They will definitely be interested in you," Finn shot a meaningful smile at Daan.

"No need, no need. Don't you need to get going?" Daan changed the topic. He didn't mind the company, but he really needed to get back to finishing the documents.

"Haha, yes, you're right. I won't be bothering you then. Have a good one!" said Fin while waving his hand. He then walked away and exited through the same door that the previous man had used.

Daan Holsten's smiled and waved at Finn. His smile then slowly turned into seriousness after his subordinate had left and he got back to working mode. The report that he was writing needed to be filed today, so he had to finish it soon because there were several others that needed doing. He had often stayed in the office the latest, so he didn't mind the lack of company. The tapping sound was the only thing that proved that there was still human activity inside that fourth-floor office.

He kept typing and writing documents until nine in the evening. The building should already be closed by that time, and the doors locked. He only had the keys to the floor where his office was located, but not to the whole building. However, there were security guards stationed twenty-four hours, so Daan could just ask one of them to open the main door and gate for him.

After he had finished, he used the landline on his desk and dialed a number. He waited until his call got through and then spoke to the person on the other side.

"Hello. This is Daan. The reports are done. I'll leave them with the security. Come get them quickly and send them. Uhuh... alright. Thank you very much."

His tone was domineering but warm. The person on the other side seemed to be another one of his subordinates, most likely his secretary. Once he had finished conveying his message, he hung up the phone and put on the black coat that was hung near the door. He also picked a brown envelope containing the documents that he had put safely inside. He closed his office door and locked it with one of the keys in his keychain. He also locked the door to the shared office space and went down to the first floor where the main door was located.

The security guard outside saw him walking closer and quickly unlocked the side exit because the automatic sliding door's power had been turned off, so it couldn't be opened. Daan walked through the door and smiled warmly at the old security guard with a beer belly.

"Mr. Drott, can you keep this safe? My secretary should come soon to pick it up," he requested politely while handling the brown envelope to the man with the last name Drott.

"Sure, Mr. Holsten! I'll keep it safe," said the security guard excitedly. It appeared that he was happy he could be of service to his higher up, especially the person before him, who had a very good reputation around the company.

After safely putting down the envelope in his post, he unlocked the gate for his superior to pass through. Daan Holsten went to the parking lot and got in to his motor carriage. It was an expensive model with a comfortable seat and an elegant interior. The passenger's seat was more spacious than the public type. He always took care of his motor carriage well, so it was very clean and well-maintained. His bright headlight illuminated his path ahead.

He drove past the now open gate and started heading home. The street that night was already quiet, with only a few other motor carriages driving by. There were almost no bicycles left on the road, so he could drive fast without fear of hitting anyone. He went almost seventy kilometers per hour, which was much faster than the regulated speed limit, which was only fifty kilometers per hour. However, since it was night time, there would be no traffic police stopping him.

He drove past a big Cathedral in Kerkstraat; the street where he lived. The Cathedral, which was simply called Sloten Cathedral, was mostly just a tourist attraction now. It was famous for its classic architectural design and the stained windows. In the morning, when the time was right, a ray of sunbeam would shine through the inside, giving tourists a magnificent view. Although it would still hold masses at times, most people in Sloten were not religious, so there wouldn't be many attendees anyway.

He kept driving until he stopped at house number 58. He got out of his motor carriage and opened the black iron gate to his big house. He then drove the motor carriage in and closed the gate before locking it secure again.

After parking the motor carriage, Daan Holsten entered his house carefully. Since arriving home, he seemed to have turned into a completely different person. His friendly and calm demeanor became cold and careful. He checked everything thoroughly to make sure his house was still in the same condition as when he left it.

Daan Holsten didn't turn on the lights in his house; his eyes glowed red in the dark, enabling him to see clearly as if it was daytime. However, everything in his vision had a red hue due to his eyes. He took off his coat and hung it on the coathanger by the door. The neat, dark corridor in front of him felt strangely lifeless.

He walked down the corridor and used one of his keys to unlock the closet under the stairs. Inside it, there were unused objects that had been arranged neatly, so it would be easy to take them out anytime he needed. He went to the corner and lifted a carpet to reveal a wooden trapdoor hidden underneath it. Before opening the trapdoor, he checked his surroundings to make sure everything was in place. He would notice if something was moved even just by one centimeter.

He unlocked the padlock keeping the trapdoor secure and lifted it open. In the quiet night, it created an audible creaking. He entered through the trapdoor and closed it behind him, to make sure no sound could escape from the basement. His expression became extremely twisted as he walked down the stairs to the hidden basement of the house. Muffled crying could faintly be heard from the stairs, and it got louder the closer he got to the room in his basement.

Daan Holsten revealed a depraved, perverted smile.