Today’s post is a collaborative ghost story being written by several bloggers. Visit Smithereens first for the beginning of the story.
As I looked up, my smile froze and my heart skipped a beat…
The man was tall and thin. His face pale, his cheeks hollow and his eyes sunken. He stared straight ahead. “Working late too?” I asked.
He acted like I wasn’t there.
“We need to get out in the daylight more often, these fluorescent lights aren’t doing much for the ol’ complexion.”
Still no response. I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“What slave-driver do you work for? I bet you’re in the legal department, right?”
The man didn’t move a muscle.
I stared at the numbers above the elevator door. None of them were lit. It didn’t even feel like we were moving.
“This elevator sure is slow tonight,” I said. I reached over and pushed the ground floor button again. I pushed it again. And then I kept pushing it, fast.
“This elevator doesn’t stop at that floor,” said the man. I don’t know what unsettled me more, that the man finally spoke or the deep, dusty sound of his voice.
I laughed nervously and pushed the button again.
“This elevator only stops when it gets to the bottom,” said the man.
“You know, that’s not very funny,” I said. My voice came out in a higher pitch than I would have liked. I sounded scared, not the thing you want to sound stuck in an elevator with a crazy man. I backed away from him as far as I could get which admittedly wasn’t very far. I reached into my bag searching for the mace I kept there. But if I had to use it in an elevator I wasn’t sure that I wouldn’t be incapacitated too. I had to take my chances. My hand closed on it and found the trigger, if he made a move I was ready.
But he didn’t move. He just stood there staring straight ahead.
After what seemed like a very long time, the elevator bell dinged. I relaxed a little, finally I could get out of here. The elevator doors slid open…
(To be continued…)