when I first started working at the Lost Airline luggage Warehouse I thought it would be the kind of job you could do on autopilot you know sorting through suitcases matching tags and occasionally finding the weird stuff people left behind like that one time someone packed an entire taxidermic raccoon but after a few months the novelty wore off and it became just rows and rows of unclaimed baggage waiting for someone who is never going to show up the place is massive like a graveyard for forgotten lives we hold on to bags for 90 days if no
one claims them the contents are auctioned off and the cycle starts over my supervisor Dale once joked that every suitcase holds a secret but most of the time it's just dirty laundry and charges for phones no one uses anymore but then I noticed something strange a section of the warehouse I hadn't paid much attention to before it was tucked in the back past the rows of unclaimed baggage the area was marked with a faded sign that just said claimed at first I didn't think much of it I figured they were bags people had come to
collect but the weird thing was they were all still there perfectly stacked perfectly clean no dust no tags no signs of wear and they didn't show up on the logs one night during inventory I asked Dale about it what's the deal with the claimed bags I said trying to sound casual he didn't even look up from his clipboard some things are better left alone he must muted then Chang the subject to tomorrow's auction prep that answer should have been enough for me to let it go but the bag stuck in my head something about how
pristine they looked like they didn't belong there or maybe belonged too much like they'd always been there the thing about working late in a place like this is that your mind starts to play tricks on you the warehouse is dead quiet after hours except for the hum of the overhead lights and the occasional Creek of the metal shelves it's the kind of Silence that makes you jump at your own shadow one night I was wrapping up some inventory when I heard it shuffling something was moving in the far corner of the warehouse I first thought
was a stray animal maybe a raccoon that snuck in somehow how or knowing Dale it could have been some dumb prank to Spook the new guy I grabbed a flashlight and headed toward the sound the shuffling stopped as soon as I got close to the claim section there was nothing there just the same neat rows of pristine bags untouched but when I looked closer one of the bags was out of place it had been moved to a different while I was sure of it I called out Dale you messing with me no answer I stood
there for a while listening but all I heard was the hum of the lights and my own heartbeat finally I choked it up to me being tired and went back to my work the next day I couldn't stop thinking about that bag it didn't make sense no one else had been in the warehouse that night and the logs didn't show anything unusual curiosity got the better of me and I decided to take a closer look I picked a bag at random a sleek black duffel with no tags or identifying marks my hands were shaking as
I unzipped it half expecting to find something gruesome like those urban legends about body parts in lost luggage instead I [Music] found my childhood the first thing I pulled out was a tattered copy of The Hobbit the exact same addition my dad used to read me when I was little the corners were bent in the same way like someone had dogy at the pages then there was a faded Red Jacket my mom's jacket I hadn't seen it in years but I recognized The Fray cuffs and the small ink stain on the pocket and then I
saw the photo it was a picture of me as a teenager standing in front of what looked like a campfire but the people around me I didn't know any of them they were smiling leaning in like we were all best friends but I couldn't place a single face what really got me though was the photo itself it wasn't just old it looked wrong the edges were warped like the image had been stretched too far and the sky in the background was a sickly shade of green I zipped the bag up and shoved it back on
the Shelf my heart pounding maybe it was some kind of elaborate joke maybe someone had found my stuff online or dug through records to mess with me but deep down I knew better I should have let it go I should have zipped that bag up and walked away for good but when you see pieces of your own life staring back at you things you can't explain you can't just ignore it at least I couldn't the next night I stayed late again I told myself I was finishing inventory but really I couldn't stop thinking about that
bag I needed to see if what I found was still inside maybe I'd imagined it maybe someone was screwing with me but when I opened it the contents had changed it wasn't the book or Jacket anymore this time there was a watch my watch the one I'd lost 3 years ago on a camping trip next to it was a folded up piece of paper and when I opened it I nearly dropped it it was a note written in my handwriting you're almost there keep looking but I didn't remember writing it and then there was the
toy plane it was identical to one I used to have as a kid right down to the chipped wing and The Faded blue paint it couldn't have been coincidence it just couldn't I zipped the bag back up my hand shaking and shoved it back in the shelf for the rest of the night I tried to act normal but my head was spinning what the hell was happening who could have put those things in there and why the next day things got weirder Dale was jumpy more than usual he barely looked at me when I clocked
in and at one point I caught him on the phone he was pacing near the break room muttering under his breath but I swear I heard him say another one's getting close when he noticed me he hung up fast and walked off pretending like nothing had happened other people started noticing things too a couple of the guys joked about hearing whispers when they passed the claim section one of them Chris said it sounded like someone was calling his name but he left it off this place is creepy as hell at night man he said shaking
his head I'm not going near that corner again and then the dream started the first one wasn't bad just strange I was sitting at a dinner table with a family that felt familiar like I should have known them but I didn't they were laughing talking passing dishes around it was warm comfortable but when I woke up I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong I don't have a family like that I never have the next dream was worse I was standing in a church wearing a tuxedo holding someone's hand a bride I couldn't see
her face but I knew I knew I was supposed to know her my heart was racing not from fear but from something else like longing or regret when I woke up I felt this crushing emptiness like I'd lost something I never even had every night it was something new a birthday I'd never been to a road trip I never took a life that didn't belong to me but somehow felt like it did it was like the bag wasn't just holding objects it was holding memories pieces of a life that I was starting to think might
have been mine or could have been mine I couldn't stop thinking about it I couldn't stop going back it was around midnight when I was finally alone and I decided to investigate anything that could tell me what was going on I only had enough access in the computers to check data on the Main Luggage we sorted Dale was a standup guy but not the smartest when it came to technology so getting into his account was easy his password was on a sticky note under the monitor the claim section wasn't in any of the official documentation
it was like it didn't exist the first thing I noticed was how sparse the records were there were no flight numbers no name of passengers no airports of origin just dates and fague location tags but then I scr R further back and my stomach dropped the logs listed names names of people former employees frequent Travelers even a couple of Warehouse delivery drivers each name was flagged as unaccounted for missing the timestamps in the logs didn't make sense either they showed dates weeks sometimes months after these people had supposedly van vanished like the system was still
tracking them even though they were gone I didn't sleep that night every sound in my apartment made me jump and every shadow felt like it was creeping Closer by the next morning I knew I couldn't keep this to myself I cornered Dale during lunch catching him off guard as he stood by the vending machines Dale what's going on with a claimed bags I asked keeping my voice low his expression shifted instantly it wasn't just fear it was resignation like he'd been waiting for this you've been poking around too much he muttered glancing nervously toward the
security cameras why are their names tied to the bags people who went missing what the hell is this place I demanded Dale sigh his shoulders slumping you weren't supposed to dig this deep look those bags they're not normal they don't belong to any Airline any traveler they belong to people who have been taken taken by who not who what he said his voice dropping to a whisper those bags are like anchors they're tied to something else somewhere else when you open one you're inviting it in it starts pulling pieces of you rewriting things the more
you interact the harder it is to stay here eventually you just go I stared at him trying to process what he was saying it sounded insane but every strange thing I'd seen in that warehouse suddenly felt like a puzzle snapping into place why didn't you warn me I asked my voice shaking I tried he said but curiosity always wins it's why they keep sending people like us to work here people who need the job but won't be missed if something happens now you're in too deep whatever's in those bags it's noticed you that night when
I walked into the warehouse for my shift the first thing I saw was a new bag in the claim section it wasn't there before it was smaller than the others almost like a carryon my name was printed on the tag I froze my stomach t twisting into knots the bag was locked but as I stood there I heard it a faint tapping from inside like someone was knocking to get out I knew I was in over my head but by this point the bag with my name on it was all I could think about it
wasn't just curiosity anymore it felt like a compulsion a pull I couldn't ignore that night I waited until the warehouse was empty and the cameras were angled away my hands were shaking when I broke it open inside there was no clothing or trinkets no personal items just a shimmering mirror-like surface it was unnatural almost liquid but solid at the same time I leaned closer and my reflection stared back at me except it wasn't quite right my face looked older tired the scar on my chin from middle school wasn't there before I could process it the
surface rippled and I felt myself being pulled forward I tried to step back but my legs would couldn't move the world around me blurred and suddenly I was somewhere else the warehouse was still there but it wasn't the same the lights flickered erratically casting long distorted Shadows the air was thick suffocating and everything was Silent not the kind of Silence where you could hear your own breathing but aoid like sound didn't exist the aisles stretched endlessly in every direction and every bag in the claim section was there stacked high and moving ever so slightly on
their own then I saw him another me he stepped out from one of the aisles and I almost screamed he looked just like me but older Maybe by 10 20 years his eyes were sunken his skin pale and gaunt he moved like every step was painful but there was something worse than his appearance it was the look on his face desperation you shouldn't have opened it he said his voice horar but clear you need to leave now what is this who are you I demanded though my voice cracked halfway through I'm you he said his
voice tinged with something close to regret oh I was and if you don't leave you'll become me I didn't understand how could I but he kept talking fast and frantic like he was running out of time the bags aren't just lost luggage they're markers if you open yours you're bound to this place this other version of the warehouse you'll lose everything your life your memories you'll become a part of it I tried to speak but then I saw them shadowy figures emerging from the aisles moving slowly but deliberately their forms were vague like smoke trying
to take shape but I could see the hints of faces some anguished some expressionless they were the ones who had open their bags victims trapped here forever they'll take you if you stay the other me said his voice trembling please don't let them take you I could barely breathe the Figures were getting closer the void-like silence pressing down on me the other me reached into his own bag his version of my bag and pulled out the mirror-like surface this is your way out he said use it don't look back I hesitated my mind racing but
then I saw the figures reach for him his face twisted in panic as he shoved the mirror toward me go he screamed I grabbed it and felt the pull again the same sensation as before but reversed the distorted Warehouse blurred around me and suddenly I was back in the real one sprawled on the cold concrete floor next to the bag it was zipped shut like I'd never touched it the silence was gone replaced by the hum of the fluorescent lights but my hands wouldn't stop shaking I stared at the bag half expecting it to move
but it [Music] didn't I scrambled to my feet and ran leaving everything behind when I went back the day after opening my bag something felt off I walked into the break room and my usual coffee mug this old chip ceramic one with my initials wasn't on the counter instead there was a Sleek brand new travel mug I'd never seen before someone probably just moved it I thought but then I opened my locker the photos of my niece and nephew that I taped inside gone my spare hoodie gone in their place were things I didn't recognize
a set of car keys I didn't own a pair of sunglasses I'd never seen before they weren't just random items they felt like placeholders substitutes for my own life when I asked Dale about it he gave me this blank look like he didn't even know who I was you knew here or something he asked scratching his head the guy who trained me who signed off for my first paycheck was now acting like I was a stranger I thought maybe he was screwing with me but the way he looked at me confused almost scared it didn't
feel like a joke the worst part was the claim section my bag wasn't there anymore I comb through every aisle every shelf but it was [Music] gone instead there were new bags ones I didn't recognize and I swear some of them were moving ever so slightly like they were breathing I couldn't stay there the warehouse had changed or maybe I had either way I left I didn't even bother clocking out I just got him my car and drove telling myself I'd never go back for a day or two I thought I was in the clear
I stayed in bed ignored my phone and tried to convince myself that everything was fine but then the bag started showing up the first time it was in my car I unlocked it the drive to the grocery store and there it was sitting on the passenger seat like it had always been there it wasn't the same bag I'd open in the warehouse but he was unmistakably one of those bags pristine untagged and humming faintly with that same low static sound I left my car in the lot and walked home then one appeared outside my apartment
door same type same unnerving hum I didn't touch it I stepped over it slamming my door and shoved a chair under the handle when I finally worked up the nerve to peek through the peephole a few hours later it was [Music] gone but they kept coming on my walk to the park I saw one sitting on a bench perfectly placed as if waiting for me another was on the side of the road half hidden in the weeds but I knew it was meant for me they're not just bags anymore they're markers warnings reminders and I
can feel them closing in I thought quitting would end it I thought walking away from that damn Warehouse would mean I could finally sleep that I could leave all this behind I was so wrong but the bag those claimed bags they don't leave you alone after I left I moved back in with my parents for a while the thought of being alone in an apartment made my skin crawl even now I keep my blinds drawn and double check the locks on every door every window not that it helps the paranoia is always there like something
just out of sight waiting the bags don't stop or at least the feeling of them doesn't sometimes when the house is quiet and I'm trying to fall asleep I hear faint tapping it's soft rhythmic like someone drumming their fingers on the floor it always comes from places where something could hide a closet under the bed even the trunk of my car once I'll sit up heart pounding and tell myself it's nothing but I don't go looking not anymore every now and then I dream about the warehouse I see the rows of bags stretching into Infinity
a maze I can't escape from sometimes I hear Dale's voice echoing through the aisles warning me to stay away other times I see myself not me as I am now but a different version of me one who stayed one who opened all the bags one who never left and he just Smiles like he knows something I don't I've tried to piece it all together to make sense of it but there's no explanation that satisfies the claim section wasn't just unclaimed luggage it was something else a doorway maybe a trap or maybe just a cruel joke
the universe decided to play on me I don't want anyone else to go through what I did if you ever lose your luggage pray it stays lost because if you see your name on a bag that isn't yours don't open it not even once [Music]