Chapter Text
You squint as the dusk sun seeps through the shuttered windows facing you, its rays warming your skin. It paints the sterile white walls of your office in a familiar deep orange. There’s no need to check the time to know the day is finally over.
You stretch from your desk, your muscles aching from a long day. You adjust the stack of reports left for your manager before grabbing a generous handful of mints from your bowl and heading for the door.
Last month, despite your meager resume, you secured a job as an accountant at a lavish hotel. It had everything you could ever want from a job: financial security, extended leave, your own desk, and free mints! How could you say no to that?
Admittedly, your standards were low after months of job-searching, but it is a great deal. And your competition was nonexistent. You didn’t even have to lie during the interview this time, considering there was no interview.
But despite your efforts to blindly enjoy your high salary and complimentary mints, the company’s shady marketing eventually caught your attention. In the few advertisements you saw, it presented itself as being a ‘welcoming environment’ and treating its staff ‘like one big family.’ You knew those were just buzzwords to make the company look better, but you didn’t think the work environment was this bad.
Your coworkers drag themselves around from place to place, their movements sluggish and clumsy. They’re at their cubicles all hours of the day with their heads down and eyes glued to their work. When you try to engage them in mundane conversation about the weather, they’ll stare at you, unblinking. You’re lucky if they acknowledge you beyond that.
And when their day is over, they leave only when you’re not paying close attention to them. Slowly, as the hours pass, all that’s left is you and the silence of the building.
It’s strange. You’d chalk up the behavior to being tired or bored, but it always seems like something else is happening behind those bloodshot eyes.
You can’t afford to complain, though. Certainly not with pay this good.
As you make your way to the office’s exit, you idly chew on your pilfered mint. Your sore body is begging you to slow your pace, especially after such a long day, but you can’t stop now. Not when your much-needed reward is waiting for you just at the end of the corridor.
Along with the less-than-ideal work environment, a downside to your job was the flights of stairs you had to climb just to get to your desk in the morning. So, the company seemingly answered your prayers by installing a high-end elevator on your floor. You’ve walked past it while it was still under construction several times, sometimes lingering to admire the ornate decorations before running off to avoid a coworker rounding the corner.
You’ve asked your manager to update you on its progress once. Her response was uncharacteristically serious.
‘We don’t have an elevator on this floor,’ she said, giving you a look as if you said something strange. It didn’t seem like she was joking. Her words still linger in the back of your mind months later.
As the elevator comes into view, you dig through the contents of your bag for your keycard. With your free hand, you feel around for the button panel.
Your fingers slide against the surface of the doors. Your eyes flicker toward the elevator, and you briefly see your panicked reflection in the polished metal. There’s no panel.
Right, it must be motion-activated. You wouldn’t put it past an establishment like this.
You stand in front of the looming doors and wave your hand in front of it.
Nothing happens.
You peer down the empty hallway, wondering if there’s anyone around to witness how ridiculous you look.
It’s not still unfinished, right? And there’s no way it’s already broken!
You glance at the staircase behind you and feel a sense of impending doom. It was inevitable.
Sighing in defeat, you mentally prepare for the agonizing trek to the lobby.
You don’t even make it a step downstairs before the elevator suddenly comes to life, playing a jingle as it does. You turn around and watch as the doors slowly slide open, a breeze of cool air rushing out of the cabin. Its lighting fixtures fill the dimly lit room with color. You close your mouth, not realizing it’s parted in awe.
Without a second thought, you step onto the elevator, the doors swiftly closing behind you. That would’ve been unnecessarily startling if not for pure fascination distracting you.
You lean against the railing bolted against the wall and eagerly take in your surroundings. Several wood panels cover the walls, with a few behind you making up the image of a beach. The front of the elevator holds two button consoles and a black screen showing what you assume to be your floor’s number.
The circular lights above you are bright but strangely calming. The floor is a thick layer of metal, and a delightful smiling face is displayed in the middle. It looks like a logo, but this is the first time you've seen your job use it. Maybe it's an affiliate company?
You look away from the logo and focus on the button consoles at the front. The buttons on the left panel are unlabeled, but the ones on the right are covered in strange symbols and pictures. The only thing that doesn't look completely intimidating is the large, glowing button underneath the two panels. This must be the lobby.
You press it and watch as it sinks into a small compartment, disappearing from your view. You knew they spent quite a fortune on this thing, but this seems pretty excessive.
Before you can continue to silently judge your job's spending habits, the elevator plays a familiar jingle. It lurches forward, and you can feel it descending.