Real Estate Tale EP.10 – The Wooden Chair in a Luxury Condo at Phrom Phong

Real Estate Tales EP.10
“The Wooden Chair in a Luxury Condominium in Phrom Phong”

There was a junior agent who had just entered the industry. His name was New.

One evening, his supervisor asked him to open a luxury condominium in the Phrom Phong area so he could show a room to a customer. Most people did not make appointments at that time because it was already late. But the customer said it was the time he had just finished work: “I work late. Could we view it at 9:30 p.m.?”

New did not think much about it because this was a major deal. The room was priced at 150 million baht, with a commission in the millions. He therefore agreed, even though, deep down, something felt strange.

The elevator opened on the 31st floor. When he stepped out, the corridor lights flickered and a whistling wind came through the ventilation opening. When he reached the scheduled room, New unlocked the door and entered to prepare it for the customer.

The room was completely silent and had no furniture at all. The strange thing was that there was a single wooden chair in the center of the room, as if someone had put it there waiting for something.

While New stood confused at the doorway, a telephone rang. It was not the number of the customer he was expecting. And the voice he heard was not familiar.

The voice was quiet and hoarse. It did not come from the telephone; it seemed to come from behind his right ear.
“Come in and sit down.”

New was a young man who had studied abroad and did not believe in supernatural things. He believed only in science that could be proven, so he did not think much of it.

The fluorescent lights on the ceiling were dim, with only some of them working. At that exact moment, the telephone pressed to his ear suddenly went dead. The signal disappeared, but New could still hear a hoarse breath floating beside his ear.

He turned around. This time, the wooden chair seemed to move slightly. A quiet creak sounded, as if someone had actually sat down on it, even though he could not see anyone.

His heart beat hard and his hand shook so much that he almost dropped the key. Then the voice in the room came again. This time it was not a whisper; it sounded like someone speaking from somewhere in the room, although he could not identify where it came from.
“Sit down.”

New stared at the wooden chair for a long time. His feelings were caught between fear telling him to run away and a strange attraction telling him to try.

Eventually, it was as if some force pushed him forward step by step. He entered and sat on the chair in the center of the room.

As soon as his body touched the old wood, a long creak sounded and everything in the room became unnaturally quiet—so quiet that he could not even hear the wind from the ventilation opening that had been whistling moments earlier.

New looked around the empty room, but his eyes stopped at a large mirror on the side. He saw his own reflection sitting on the chair. The frightening thing was that another shadow was sitting behind him in the mirror.

The shadow was a long-haired woman with a pale face and no pupils. She seemed to lean close to his ear and quietly say, “Are you comfortable?”

New’s heart beat as if it would burst. He tried to stand, but his body was pinned down and could not move. Both arms seemed to be held against the chair’s armrests. A hoarse breath was close to his cheek, and his ear felt damp, as if someone’s breath were truly there.

Suddenly, all the lights in the room went out.

Many voices began speaking in the darkness, but he could not understand what they were saying.

After only a moment, when the lights flickered back on, New found that he was no longer alone.

The room that had been empty was now full of strangers. They were shadows darker than the darkness of the room. They had human shapes, but he could not tell who they were.

They stood in a circle around the wooden chair where New was sitting, as if they were holding a meeting or performing some kind of ritual. New felt every gaze fixed on him.

The pale, long-haired woman in the mirror slowly stepped out and stood behind him. This time she lowered her face against his cheek and whispered, “Will you stay with us?”

At once, New felt several pairs of cold shadows reach out to grab his arms, legs, and shoulders. They squeezed tightly enough to hurt. Many whispers filled his ears, like a room full of people speaking at once.

New could think only, “It’s over… I will not survive tonight.”

Then his mobile phone rang, echoing loudly through the flickering darkness of the room.
Rrrr… Rrrr… Rrrr…

New looked down at the screen. His hand shook so much that he could barely pick it up, but he clearly saw that it was the real customer’s number.

As soon as he answered, all the eyes staring at him seemed to startle. The shadows around the room vanished, leaving only the normal voice on the other end.

“Mr. New, I am sorry. I finished work late. Could we postpone the appointment until next time?”

The lights in the room came back on. Everything returned to normal: an empty room, no one there, and no whispers—and no wooden chair.

New looked around with his heart still pounding. When he realized what had happened, he was sitting on the floor, not on the chair. His phone was still against his ear, and the customer was asking repeatedly, “Hello, Mr. New? Can you hear me?”

New ran out of the room with the key still in the door. He did not even dare to turn off the lights.

The following morning, New arrived at the office with a pale face, looking as if he had not slept. He had barely closed his eyes all night because the image of the chair and the whispers kept circling in his head.

He told everything to Ek, a senior agent who had worked there for a long time: the mysterious phone call, the voice behind him, and the wooden chair in the middle of the room.

At first, Ek listened silently. But when New described the moment he was about to sit on the chair, Ek suddenly turned and stared at him.

“Do you know that room has not had a single piece of furniture since the day it was first offered for sale? The owner never put anything inside—not even a chair.”

The office immediately became quiet. Other employees nearby turned to listen. Ek gave a long sigh and bent down to whisper.

“Two years ago, a senior female agent from our company went to open that room at night, exactly like you did.

That night she called me for the last time. She only said, ‘Brother… it has called me to sit with it.’ Then the line was cut. To this day, we have never seen her again and never learned where she disappeared to.

New went numb, as if all the blood in his body had reversed. He sat still for a long time, with his hands ice-cold.

Ek continued quietly: “So, no matter which customer asks you to view that room at night again, remember this: absolutely do not go.”

After that night, New tried to avoid opening the room. He remembered the hoarse voice and the wooden chair as if they had been burned into his mind. But, as a young man who had studied abroad, he tried to tell himself that it might have been an illusion or a coincidence created by his own mind.

Until three weeks later, when an email from a foreign customer arrived at the company. The customer was interested in buying a condominium in that project, and the list of rooms he had selected included the 31st floor.

The company manager looked across the team and said in the meeting room, “This room is in New’s portfolio, right? Please take care of it. This is a major customer with a budget of several hundred million. He has selected several rooms. If you close it, the commission could change your life.”

New’s face fell immediately. He tried to say that he had a schedule conflict and was unavailable, but the manager said, “This customer is in a hurry. He will not be in Thailand for long and wants to see the rooms tomorrow.”

What made New feel cold all over was that the customer had clearly specified the time in the email: “I would like to view the room on the 31st floor at 8:30 p.m.”

That night, New stood in front of the building with his heart pounding as if it would burst. He looked at the time on his phone: exactly 8:30 p.m. A night breeze moved slowly, but strangely his body was ice-cold, as if he were standing in a freezer.

He pressed the elevator button to the 31st floor. The “ding” sounded to New like a countdown to death. The elevator doors opened. The corridor was completely silent, even though at 8:30 p.m. there should still have been people around. There was not even a shadow.

New walked to the room on the 31st floor. His hand shook so much that he could barely insert the key, but he forced himself to do it because he could not refuse the job.

Click. The door opened even though New had not yet turned the key. A stale old smell rushed out. The room was still empty—and yes, the wooden chair was still in the center, exactly where it had been.

New swallowed and pushed the door open wider, but his feet remained outside.

He was surprised to see the customer already inside. The customer stood with his back turned, looking at the view through the large glass window.

New felt slightly relieved. At least the customer had arrived this time, so perhaps he would not encounter the same strange event.

New stepped into the room to greet him. Bang! The door slammed shut as if a strong wind had blown it. New became suspicious because the customer had not opened the window. Where had such a strong wind come from?

His phone lit up. A LINE message from the customer appeared: “I have arrived at the building. I am waiting in the lobby.”

New was startled and rushed to turn the knob, but it was locked even though he had not locked it. His hands shook so much that he almost dropped the key.

In that empty silence, he heard faint footsteps moving toward the wooden chair in the middle of the room, coming closer and closer to him.

Thud… thud… thud…

New stood still, unable to breathe normally. He did not dare turn around. Then the wooden chair gave a soft creak, as if someone had really sat down on it.

The chair creaked for a long time, as though someone were sitting there. New continued to stand with his back turned, afraid to look. He thought only, “If the door opens, I can escape.”

He quickly texted the customer and asked him to have security escort him up to the room.

At that exact moment, a voice behind New said, “Come sit down.”

The chair began to move by itself, slowly, as if someone were standing up from it. A black shadow shaped like a human body stretched across the floor and over New. It was longer than the shadow that the chair could have created.

In the reflection on New’s phone, he saw people standing in rows everywhere. A jumble of voices echoed in his ears: “Sit down… sit down… sit down…”

The pressure in the room continued to rise, as if the air were being sucked out little by little. New struggled to breathe and his legs began to shake, as if an invisible force were making him walk toward the wooden chair.

The whispers from every direction grew louder: “Sit down… sit down… sit down…”

Then the door handle clicked. The door was pushed open. Light from the corridor entered, along with the polite deep voice of a foreign man.

“Hello? Is anyone here? Mr. New?”

New jerked his head up and saw the real customer standing at the door with a folder of documents in his hand. The customer’s face was confused as he saw the young agent sweating heavily in a dark room.

The customer stepped inside. New could barely hold back his tears. He was about to say something, but before he could speak, the chair creaked again.

This time New and the customer both turned to look at the wooden chair in the middle of the room.

The customer frowned and said quietly, “What… what is that?”

Suddenly, the open entrance door slammed shut. The key in New’s hand fell to the floor in front of the customer. The room became freezing cold, and they could see their breath even though the air conditioner was not on.

The foreign customer’s face turned pale. He tried to walk back to open the door, but his body would not move, as if it were fixed to the wall.

New was the same. He pulled the handle, pressed the key card, and tried to use the key, but everything was useless. The metal scraping against the latch made a high sound, as if a person’s voice were entering his head: “Ha… ha… ha…”

Suddenly, the wooden chair began to shake by itself, harder and harder, as if someone were angry that they were trying to escape.

The customer stared and shouted, “Open the damn door! NOW!”

But his voice echoed and became distorted inside the small room. In the reflection of the large glass window, New clearly saw that they were no longer the only two people there.

The foreign customer beside him staggered as if he had been thrown against the wall. He shouted, but his voice faded as if it were being swallowed.

New was left alone, pulled by an unseen force at his arms and shoulders toward the chair.

Sweat ran over his entire body. With every step he took, the chair creaked—creak… creak…—as if it were happy that its new owner was about to sit down.

Just as New was about to be forced down onto the chair, his mobile phone rang and echoed throughout the room.

The ringtone was sharp and clear, cutting through all the pressure. New looked at the screen. It was a call from Ek, his senior colleague.

Immediately, the pressure forcing him seemed to be thrown away. New collapsed onto the floor instead of onto the chair. All the whispers fell silent, leaving only the continuous ringtone.

The foreign customer quickly got back up. He looked around with wide eyes, then helped New try to open the door again.

This time, the door that had refused to open clicked open easily, as if nothing had ever happened. They both ran out without looking back.

The next morning, New dragged himself back to the office. His face was exhausted and confused. He still could not believe that he had actually escaped.

Ek came over and said calmly, “I called you last night. Are you all right?”

New immediately turned with a shocked look. “Why did you call at exactly that time?”

Ek was silent for a moment, then sighed and spoke softly. “Actually, I did not intend to call. But at that moment, I saw that young woman.”

New froze. “The young woman—the one who disappeared?”

Ek nodded. “Yes, the junior agent who worked at the company before she disappeared after opening that room. I came across an old memory of hers in my feed.”

Suddenly, a voice appeared in his mind with only one sentence: “Help him. Do not let him sit down.” He had suddenly been startled and immediately called New.

New went numb all over. The previous night came back to him. If he had not heard that phone call, he might truly not have escaped.

Ek looked at him and continued firmly: “Remember, New… some rooms are not put on the market for people to live in. They are left for something else to live in. If anyone asks you to show that room again, do not even accept the appointment.”

New fell silent and turned to look at the property files piled on the desk. Among the dozens of room files waiting to be sold, the file for the 31st-floor room had disappeared, and no one knew who had taken it.

From that day onward, no one ever opened the 31st-floor room to show it again, whether a new agent or a customer. The room’s name disappeared from the system by itself, as if it had never been offered for sale.

But the most frightening thing was what New said: whenever he sat quietly late at night, his mobile phone often rang by itself with no number displayed.

Every time he answered, the other end remained silent for a long time. Then a soft whisper would sound, exactly as before…

“Would you like to come in and sit down?”

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