“Don’t get off until you hit the ninth floor. No exceptions.”

“But my interview is on 5,” I replied.

“I’ll only say this only one more time. Don’t get off until you hit 9th. No other floor is safe.”

It’s crazy but something about the way he said it penetrated my skull. He was serious. And, he looked nervous, like he had to fight every instinct in his body to say that to me.

The doors closed, while I thought to myself - who the fuck says anything like that?

As I went to hit the button for the fifth floor, some anxiety came over me. I shook it off and pressed it. The guy was probably just off his rockers.

The elevator went up. I scanned my surroundings - a TV bolted to the top corner of the elevator (playing the weather channel), a mirror for the back-wall of the elevator, and some cozy lounge-style music playing. Pretty standard stuff.

“Now arriving at the 5th floor.”

Weird - not sure if I’d ever been in an elevator that announced each floor it was arriving at. I was sure that if I worked in this building, this would get pretty old quickly.

DING!

The doors opened on 5. In front of me was a reception area with a woman seated at the front desk. She stood up from her seat.

“Mr. Davis! You’re early!”

The gentleman’s warning from earlier played in my head.

“We’ll be ready for your interview in a few moments. In the meantime, please feel free to take a seat.”

“Uh, thank you,” I responded. “If I’m, uh, early, maybe I can come back in a few minutes?”

“Nonsense! We’ll see if we can speed things up. He’s been very excited to meet you.”

The elevator doors started closing. I held them open. I wasn’t sure what to do here, but everything seemed fine enough. Granted, the receptionist did seem a bit eager, but beyond that…

From my vantage point, I scanned the office space behind the front desk area. All looked normal - cubicles, folks clicking away at their computer, a kitchen area. Pretty unremarkable.

That is, except for the portrait off at the far end of the office floor. It was very large. I couldn’t tell what the picture was of, but I did see a group of employees staring at it… almost, admiring it?

“Your wife’s name is Meredith, right?”

I froze as the receptionist’s question shot a dart right through me. I didn’t remember the job application form ever asking for my wife’s name.

“You two are thinking of having children, right? If it’s a boy, you want to name him Sam?”

What. The. Fuck? Forget that she was right on the money, this was something I’d never spoken about before to anyone, including my wife.

Before I could answer, the office workers surrounding the large portrait started singing the Happy Birthday song loudly, in complete and perfect unison. Someone brought out a birthday cake and presented it to the portrait. A portrait that, after a bit of squinting, I realized was a very large version of my highschool yearbook photo.

I backed into the elevator, and pressed the “close door” button. I panicked as it took its sweet time to register.

Press. Press. Press. Come the fuck on.

After what felt like an eternity, the doors started closing. As they closed, I heard the receptionist -

“I’m so curious to know what your insides taste like, Michael.”

Fuck. Me.

Ninth floor. I needed to go to the ninth floor.

I found the 9th floor button and pressed it. It felt like it didn’t register my push, so I pressed the button again. And again. Come on, come on, come on, ninth fucking floor. I tried again and again, but nothing was happening.

Fuck it. I’ll go back to the ground floor, I thought to myself. Back to the start.

As I went to press the ‘G’ button, I realized it was missing. Just that one singular button gone. Fuck.

I was getting claustrophobic. I took in deep breaths to prevent myself from having a full blown episode.

The elevator started moving up again. A panel above the elevator doors lit up with the following number: 11.

Someone was calling the elevator?

I started talking to myself to self-soothe. “It’s okay, someone will call the 9th floor soon. That’s where I’ll get off.”

As the elevator approached its new destination, I noticed that the background lounge music in the elevator had changed. It was now an instrumental arrangement of “Happy Birthday”. Huh. Not sure why this thing thought it was my birthday.

I glanced at the weather report on the TV. At least it was going to be sunny all week! Silver linings.

“Now arriving at the 11th floor.” DING!

The doors opened, I hung around the inside corner of the elevator beside the buttons. No need to have another nightmare-ish experience, right?

An old woman stepped onto the elevator.

Great, I’m sure this will be easy to explain to her.

She smiled at me, as the doors closed.

With a lump in my throat, I asked – “What floor?”

“Ground floor please.”

“Uh, I’m sorry ma’am but that button is missing. Maybe we could wait until someone calls us to the 9th floor?”

“9th? No, I think I’ll just go to the 2nd floor instead, then.”

She went to press the button.

“Ma’am, I don’t think it’d be safe to–”

“I have plenty of friends on the 2nd floor. It’ll be okay.”

Aaaaaaand she pressed it. I didn’t feel comfortable cornering an elderly stranger in a seemingly haunted elevator. But I tried again to convince her –

“I know this sounds weird, but I have it under good authority that the 2nd floor probably isn’t safe. I’d strongly recommend not getting off until we reach 9.”

She smiled.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Dear, it’ll be alright. You know, I like to take all opportunities that are given to me. It’s… a shame that you turned your opportunity down. I know the folks on 5 are very disappointed.”

I backed up into the corner of the elevator.

I saw the reflection of the old lady in the elevator’s back mirror. She looked ghastly. Otherworldly.

“Now arriving at the 2nd floor.”

The doors opened. She smiled at me again, and then exited.

I poked my head around the corner to look at the 2nd floor. It was damp. It looked old. More like a cave than an office. I heard a low rumble.

A man dressed in a fancy suit approached the elevator doors and held them open before they could close.

“You getting off here too, champ? I heard that 5 wanted you. I think we can give you a better offer.”

“I’m good.”

“You sure, bud? The salary is eight hundred thousand dollars every hour.”

“I’m good.”

“I’m kidding bud. The salary is we remove your eyes so you don’t have to see him.”

The floor went pitch black. The low rumble got much louder and started reverberating in my ears. Suddenly, the businessman grabbed me by the collar and tried to pull me out of the elevator.

I clung onto the ends of it. Fuck. Fuck!

I started kicking and headbutting him. I was able to make him let go of me momentarily, as I desperately pressed on the “close doors” button. Miraculously, the elevator responded much quicker this time and they closed immediately.

I tried the 9th floor button again. Didn’t work. I pressed 8 instead. Anything to get away from this hell-hole of a floor.

I heard a loud banging on the door as the elevator started taking off. Like an aggressive knock.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

As I saw the floor numbers rising -

3… 4… 5…

The banging continued. Just as loud. What the fuck?

6th floor… 7th floor…

The banging on the door didn’t subside.

“Now arriving at the 8th flo–”

I pressed the button for the 23rd floor. Just as we arrived on 8, I mashed the “close doors” button just as the elevator doors were about to open. The banging continued as the elevator doors started denting.

The elevator continued going up.

9…

10…

11…

The banging softened.

14…

15…

And softened.

19…

20…

21…

And disappeared.

“Now arriving at the 23rd floor.”

It was gone. Thank fucking god.

I exhaled. It felt like I’d narrowly avoided disaster.

The doors opened.

I scanned the new floor, and I realized… I was back on the ground floor. That’s what it looked like, anyways. Did I escape? Was I finally free?

A man stood not-too-far from the door. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t exactly place him.

“Hey man,” he spoke.

Was this the guy who got off the elevator just as I got on?

“...hey.”

“It’s over man. You got out,” he told me.

I felt a wave of relief wash over me… but I had to fight it.

“But you said the 9th floor was the only safe one, right?”

“That was a trick. You followed your gut and you were right. 23rd floor. The real safe floor. You can step out now, man.”

I didn’t leave.

“There’s someone here who really wants to see you.”

I couldn’t move.

“He wants to give you a job. He thinks you’re gonna be great.”

Why the fuck couldn’t I move?

“He’s in the other room. I’m gonna fetch him, okay? All you have to do is look at him. It’ll feel a bit weird at first, but then it’ll all be okay. It’s a permanent position. Great benefits. It is fully onsite, but, no better birthday present than a new job, right?”

I lowered my gaze to the floor. I forced myself to mutter the following words - “It’s not my fucking birthday.”

As he left to fetch… whoever he was meaning to fetch, he gave me the following response: “Relax, man. No cursing on the job. We’re a family here.”

It felt like I could only move a centimeter at a time. A true snail’s pace. I inched my finger closer and closer to the “close door” button.

I heard footsteps. He was coming back.

With every fiber of my being, I pushed through. I hit the button.

The doors closed, and I collapsed to the floor… free from whatever weird force was stopping me from moving.

“I’ll let you two talk more on the elevator,” I heard him say from outside the doors.

What?

Instinctively, I looked around.

To my surprise, there was nothing. The elevator was the same as it had always been.

A lengthy exhale. I was done with all of this. At this point, I would’ve taken death over continuing this bullshit any longer.

As I pondered my next move in this hopeless situation, I noticed something strange. The button to the 9th floor was lit up. An ominous, crimson-red color.

Before I could do anything else, my phone started ringing. I checked the call.

It was my wife.

I answered.

“Babe. Fuck, I don’t know why I didn’t even think to call you - I’m trapped in an elevator and fucked up shit is happening and maybe I should call the cops? Fuck I–”

“Hun. Don’t go to the ninth floor.”

“What? W-wait, how do you even–”

“It’s a trick, honey. You have to trust me. The man from before was lying to you. It’s not safe.”

“None of this has been safe! How do you even know everything that’s happening?!”

“You just need to trust me, hun.”

I paused.

“So what do you want me to do then?”

A demon on the other side of the phone answered this time.

“GO TO YOUR INTERVIEW.”

I hung up the call and in a panic, I mashed on the 9th floor button. The elevator started rising again.

Even with me hanging up the call, the muffled sound of the demonic voice coming from my phone continued.

“GO TO YOUR INTERVIEW.

GO TO YOUR INTERVIEW.

GO TO YOUR INTERVIEW.”

I pulled out my phone and flung it to the ground as hard as I could. I stomped on it angrily. The warped sound of “GO TO YOUR INTERVIEW” slowly started dying out.

But suddenly, the elevator started shaking. It was continuing to go up… but it was faster than usual. Really, really fucking fast all of a sudden. Almost like the 9th floor was now way below me.

It felt like an amusement park ride with no breaks on it. Loose. Dangerous. Flinging up at an insane speed, almost as if it was falling upwards.

“But I pressed nine?!” I screamed to myself, exasperated.

It didn’t matter.

“Now arriving at the 41st floor.”

God, what the fuck?

I was brought to my knees by the speed of the elevator traveling faster and faster.

“Now arriving at the 90th floor.”

The buttons didn’t even go past 52.

“Now arriving at the 141st floor.”

Fuck.

“Now arriving at the 230th floor.”

“Now arriving at the 401st floor.”

I felt like I was inside a bullet. The pleasant voice of the elevator lady was getting deeper and deeper as we rose.

“Now arriving at the 840th floor.”

The voice started croaking. A demonic sound this time –

“Now arriving at SOMEWHERE NICE.”

A sudden halt. The elevator stopped. The doors didn’t open though. The panel above the elevator doors had no indication on what floor we were on.

As I sat, I heard what could be best described as the sounds of hell coming from outside the elevator. Low grunts of pain. Crackling. A dark hymn.

Was this where I was supposed to get off?

Before I could ponder the question further, I heard a soft tapping on the elevator. A voice from outside –

“Do you want to trade?” said the voice.

I decided to bite, for reasons I still don’t fully understand.

“What do you mean?”

“What if you stay on this floor forever, and I get to go home?”

“Uhm. I, uh, think I’m good…”

“But I really want to go home.”

It almost sounded like the voice of a kid. Fucking hell.

“I-I’m sorry, kid,” I mustered back.

“It’s okay.”

An awkward silence between us.

“He told me that he wants to wish you a Happy Birthday,” said the kid.

“I, uh… think he’s got it wrong. Today isn’t my birthday.”

“It is,” he responded. “It’s the first day of your new life. Your birthday.”

…?

“He wants you to look at the TV.”

What?

I looked at the TV in the top corner of the elevator, hoping to see the one constant I’d had during this whole cursed trip - the weather.

Instead, the TV was now showcasing what looked to be CCTV footage. Grainy footage from a camera… of the exact elevator I was in. A live feed of this exact moment.

Except, the TV showed me lying down. Looking up with a wide smile on my face.

And something above me on the ceiling. Looking straight down at me.

Him.

The lights in the elevator went off. The elevator plummeted downwards, as I closed my eyes and screamed for dear fucking life.

I waited for the impact.

For what I knew was my demise.

Here it comes.

Here it fucking comes.

I’m not ready.

I’m not ready at all.

“Now arriving at the 9th floor.”

DING!

The doors opened.

Wait, what?

9th floor?

I peeked out from the elevator.

Another reception desk.

Wait, is this really the -

I was interrupted by a voice from the outside.

“You coming out or what you fucking moron?”

I got to my feet. The feeling of distrust… anxiety, whatever you’d call it. My fear intuition. It was gone.

I felt light.

Fuck it.

I stepped onto the floor and approached the counter.

The receptionist handed me what looked like a button for the elevator.

“For the ground floor,” she said. “Single use only.”

I took it and headed towards the elevator.

Then, I turned back to face her.

“Can I maybe take the stairs?”

She shook her head.

“If you didn’t like the elevator, then you’re really not gonna like the stairs.”

Fair enough.

I got into the elevator.

I said a silent prayer to myself as I put the button where it belonged.

It fit without any issue.

I pressed it, and the elevator went down. It was a smooth ride.

“Now arriving at the ground floor.”

DING!

As I got ready to exit, I realized that the ground floor button was missing once again. Strange. I didn’t linger on it.

I marched out, ready to get the fuck out of this building.

I noticed a woman running onto the elevator. I tried to stop her, but something in my body wouldn’t let me.

The most I could muster was putting my hand on the door to relay a message to her before the doors closed.

“Don’t get off until you reach the 9th floor. No matter what.”

The woman just smiled at me.

“Happy Birthday Michael.”