TW - ABUSE
There were twelve people in the elevator. One of them was going to receive a promotion that day. That person would soon be in a higher position than most of the people in the elevator. One of them was rushing home to greet her baby niece - born that afternoon. One of them was going to be fired, and secretly, he had already started looking for jobs. One of them had a wet shirt in his bag- his morning coffee had spilt all over him, and now, he was late for an important meeting. One of them had recently lost her grandparents, and sorrow was easily traceable on her face. One of them was an insomniac, and his sleepless state was obvious by his frequent yawns and the dark circles under his eyes. He was a bit of a slacker. One of them was silently groaning in her mind; the heels on her feet were killing her. Another one of them was bored out of his mind- he wanted the elevator ride to end as soon as possible. One of them was scrolling through his phone, waiting for a reply from his college-going daughter. She had refused to come for a family reunion on Sunday, and his annoyance was displayed on his face as he texted her once again, fingers moving fast on the keypad. One of them was a recovering alcoholic, and her left eye twitched as she tapped her feet in restlessness. Her husband was standing next to her, irritated. He would probably be the reason she ran to the bottle yet again that night, being drunk made the blows less painful.
The last one of them was an imposter.
His lips were twisted in a cruel smirk as he gazed at the faces of around him. His hand was placed on the gun in his bag. He had recently escaped from solitary confinement, and he wanted to go out with a bang.
There were twelve people in the elevator, and soon, all of them would be dead.