Blank

You are walking through a hallway.
The footsteps echo on the pristine linoleum floor. The sounds seem to belong to themselves, as though they are there with you, not being made by you.
There are doors on either sides of the straight, extensive hallway.
They display numbers in black uniform type as you pass by them.
1279.
1280.
1281.
You are looking for 1316. Supposedly at the end of the hall.
The overhead fluorescent lights cast fanciful, almost imperceptible
shadows across the walls. The sound of your footsteps is the only one you can hear. Silence, except for yourself.
Finally, door 1316 approaches. You hesitate momentarily. You reach for the silver perfect spherical knob, and turn it.
The door opens without a sound, the hinges perfectly oiled.
It reveals a blank room, with nothing but asylum white covering all the walls and ceiling. a plastic looking white desk stands alone in the middle. On it, is one lonely piece of blank paper, and in its corner is one black telephone. Just beyond the desk, a white swivel chair is resting on the strangely unscuffed linoleum floor. The chair's high back is facing you.
Suddenly the chair spins around at a confident speed.
A man is sitting in it. The fluorescent lights cast an eerie sheen on his white hair. He appears to be in his late forties, maybe early fifties. His arms rest on the arms of the chair. He sits there staring at you, gargoyle-like.
Suddenly he smiles, revealing in his mouth 2 rows of perfect teeth. He speaks.
"Hello."

* * * * * *
Chills?
Boo!