The old elevator in the building is starting to make me mad. It's too shaky and I feel like I'm going to fall. The office is mostly dark for a strange reason. It almost feels like it isn't 11 a.m. in the morning.
Everybody is typing away in their way too small cubicles and I spot a face behind the glass of the long hallway. It is dark and quiet, the only sounds are the echoing clicks of keyboards. I stare down into the emptiness. It doesn't look like a person. But having ripped my contact lenses and living off of caffeine only, my judgment wouldn't be the best.
A face in front of me shakes me from my thoughts. "Excuse me, You're standing in front of the elevator." It appears I am, I step aside and continue to my cubicle. I felt unease, the face or whatever it was, it was calling me. I stop short, curve back to the elevator, and gaze at the hallway. I take a couple of steps forward trying to get a better view. Instead, I get a whiff of some kind of rancid aroma. It smells of death, the deteriorating smells of flesh stumble from a room.
I don't think the janitors were doing their job correctly if the rest of this building was suffocating its employees with bleach and ammonia. The beckoning in the hallway did, and I felt powerless...
They are whispering through the vents, I can hear them. I can hear what they are saying to me. But it's too late, I walked down the hallway and the smell only intensified. I wish I were still in the elevator. Now I can tell I was smelling rotting flesh. It was dank.
I should've listened to them, maybe then I wouldn't have come down here. Because I know I will be his next victim.
