Young Writers Society

Prologue:

This is Simon. Simon is looking for a job in the paper. He enters a building a-

"HEl-"

Doesn’t Simon know it's rude to interrupt the Narrator? He really should.

"HE'S A PSYCHO! HEL-"

Now now, Simon…It’s rude to interrupt the Narrator.

*Static*

"Your call has been interrupted. Attempting to reconnect."

*Elevator music*

"Connection failed. Please hold while we try again."

*Elevator music*

"Connection failed. Please hold while we- Connection failed. Please hold while we-Connection failed connection failed connection failed connectionn-n-n-n-n..."

***

“Excuse me?” Simon called to the busy lobby room. “I’m here for the interview?”

Around him the strangers continued with their business, chatting loud enough to drown him out. There was a receptionist, but she was on the phone and shooed him away before he could even consider bothering her.

Well, that was fine. He knew the vague location(it wasn’t on the first floor, at least). Checking the paper ad I’d cut out and saved, it informed me to head to the top. I could make it there without anyone’s help. If I was to work here I might as well learn the building like the back of my hand after all.

Nine floors was a lot to climb and I didn’t want to be sweaty when I reached the top, so I decided against using the stairs as normal. The elevator door was open and ready and I paced over to it, cutting through large groups of people on the way.

It was a normal elevator to a normal interview with a normal guy, nothing to be scared of. Still, I couldn't help but feel a bit nervous, or maybe apprehensive was a better word. It was my first job interview in a long time, after all.

I reached for the numbers, just about to select when there was a sudden shout of “WAIT!” and before I knew what was happening, a single polished shoe was shoved in between the elevator doors.

They opened again to show a man with a green suit and messy blonde hair barging in without regard for the fact that I’d never seen him before as he said, “I’m soooo running late. Traffic was simply awful today and I had to drive….Not like the boss is likely to take that excuse again.” He laughed.

It was then he seemed to notice me standing there. “Top floor?” He asked, snapping his fingers with a grin.

Cringing away from his over energetic aura, I pushed my glasses up with a sigh. “Um, actually, I’m here to see-”

“You too? What a coincidence!” The man laughed. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around here, actually. Who're you?”

Simon opened his mouth to answer when the man interrupted him again. “The name’s Clayton Cole. Make sure you remember it.” He grinned, slapping me on the back and causing me to stumble. “Nothing more annoying than a man who won’t take the time to learn your name, am I right?”

Who, someone like you? I thought tartly, regaining my balance. Still, I figured I wanted to make nice with my possible future coworkers, so I sighed and said, “...Right. I’m the new guy, here for the interview with-”

Again the man didn’t let him finish. “Ohhhhh, so you’re NEW new. Gotcha! No need to worry, as long as I’m here you have nothing to fear.” He paused for a second, and I opened my mouth only to be interrupted by him again as he remarked: “That rhymed! Well, I won’t save you, but if you have questions, I guess make sure to ask…” He paused thoughtfully again and I managed to get words out at last.

“Why are you here?” I sigh, now disappointed in myself for even thinking I’d meet a non-annoying person here.

“I’m a full time employee here, of course!” He grins conspiratorially and invades my personal space to add, “And a part time stock market investor.”

Whatever I say doesn’t matter unless it’s about you, huh? I sighed internally. “Are you a relative of the CEO by any chance?” I asked wearily, figuring it had to be the case.

“How did you know?” He asked, seeming genuinely perplexed. 

"Lucky guess..."I groaned, mumbling sarcastically under my breath.

Suddenly the lights flickered on and off twice in quick succession and the elevator shuddered. “Does that usually happen?” My voice trembled a bit, my nerves were still acting up from the whole ‘new job’ jitters.

“You think I know every single problem the office has?” He asked, regarding me skeptically, as if wondering if I was mentally alright.

Cautiously, I edged towards the exit, now afraid the elevator would plummet and willing to take the stairs instead. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for me to even work here if their elevators were so twitchy… For that matter, why had no one else tried to enter the elevator anyhow? Didn’t large buildings usually have full elevators all the time?

I reached for the button for open doors, and the button labeled 1, but neither worked. The button for the lobby was key only and glancing at my odd companion he shook his head. Were we trapped? This could be bad… Trying to open the doors by force doesn’t seem to work either.

“Do you think the other buttons are still…functional?” I ask, out of breath from trying to open it and failing.

“Again, why should I know???” He asked, now slightly impatient and checking his rolex watch.

Clicking the button labeled two, I almost startled when the elevator started moving in a shaky manner.

DING! It opened to a startlingly small room: Beige on beige with a single black chair nailed to the ground, a hole in the wall and a sticky note on the wall.

Seriously, what kind of odd office building was this??? I was starting to be a bit alarmed by it all. Definitely second guessing the decision to come here for work of all places...

Not the floor I needed, but maybe it has something we could use to safely get out of the elevator alive? “We should check the floor for something useful.” I decided.

“Good idea! I was about to say that exact thing!” Clayton said cheerfully.

“You were not.” I glowered at him

“Were too.” He stretched the word and grinned cheekily. “It’s not like you can prove to me that I wasn’t about to say it.”

“Well, if you were, go in there and find something we can use.” I said, crossing my arms, through with his nonsense.

“I’m more of an ideas man, sorry pal.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck with that sh*t eating grin on.

“But it was MY IDE-” I shouted, unable to hold it in.

He didn’t even let me finish my complaint. “Then maybe you should go out and find something we can use.” His smile widened a bit.

This man…Could there be a more irritating person?

“I’ll stand guard,” He decided without asking for my opinion. “You know, to make sure nothing bad happens while you do the easier stuff.”

He even had the nerve to pretend he was doing me a favor? I wanted to scream at him but he would undoubtedly interrupt me AGAIN.

“Well, what if it’s dangerous?” I asked, fuming but trying to be patient.

“Oh you,” He swung an arm around my shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll think of something! You’re the idea man after all.” He said, grinning carelessly.

One of my eyes twitched. Of course now I was the idea man…

Have it your way then.

Reaching down, I seized his ankle. He went off balance and crashed to the ground with a yelp as I pulled at his shoe.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” He demanded as I yanked off his left shoe. Realization dawned and horror overtook the confusion. “Wait no! Those are Augusti Couth ‘73 edition bronzed leather with chinese silk lined interiors!!!”

It was too late and the shoe went flipping majestically out into the room, landing with perhaps the most satisfying noise I’d ever heard on the floor. His expression was priceless. 

Unfortunately it seemed it was safe, so I had to enter. Clayton loudly told me that I was to retrieve the shoe immediately or he would fine me for the cost of it, so I had no choice.

Walking in, a creeping feeling of discomfort filled me, sinister energy rippling across me as I stepped tentatively out of the elevator. “God, this room is awful.”

“I know, right? Who would pair beige wallpaper with sand carpeting? I’ll have to contact my brother about this.” Clayton said.

Of course he would focus on the least consequential thing…

I reached over and pulled the sticky note off the wall. “Give it something LIVING.” It read. What was that supposed to mean? …Was the note talking about the hole, perhaps?

Glancing down it, I saw nothing-

It was lighting fast: a shadowy thing grabbed me by my neck and yanked me down into-

“Your call has been disconnected. Attempting to reconnect…”

“-You think I know every single problem the office has?” Clayton asked, regarding me skeptically, as if wondering if I was mentally alright.

I blinked. “What the hell was that?!” Glancing down at myself, I seemed to be completely intact. Were my eyes fooling me? To check, I rapidly jabbed the button for two again.

“Um, what’re you doing?” Clayton asked, looking a tad alarmed. “And what do you mean by ‘that’? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“That-That thing!” I said, gesturing wildly. I probably looked crazy but then again, I wasn’t certain that I really wasn’t. The memory was crystal clear in my mind as I stared at my hands, feeling my neck to ensure it wasn’t tender. It didn't seem to be...

The elevator rose while he stared at me even more skeptically. “Are you actually that scared by the lights flickering?”

DING! The same room, the same sticky note and chair. What the actual hell was going on here?

“...You mean you don’t remember-?” I turned my horrified gaze to a very clueless Clayton.

“Um…remember what?”

“How? How did…You forgot…?” I said, shock filling me.

“Forgot what? That’s impossible.” He scoffed. “I have the memory of an elephant. Wow though, the recruits get sadder every year…You need to hold my hand?”

I opened my mouth to refuse and he interrupted me again, which I noticed was becoming a recurring theme at this point...

“Oh that wasn’t a serious offer, I don’t hold the hands of grown men, even scared ones. Only ladies get that sort of treatment.” He winked, as usual completely missing the point.

“You don’t believe me at all.” My tone was flat as I stared incredulously.

“No, no, I believe you…” He cringed away a bit. “Which is why it’s so sad. Never thought I’d see this generation getting so scared over an elevator malfunction of all things…The world is on a downward spiral.” He muttered as if I wasn’t standing right there.

Glaring at him, I looked at the buttons again. Maybe I’d just been imagining things, I could have fallen asleep and had a micro nightmare?? This time I clicked the 3.

DING! The 3rd floor’s doorway was pitch black as it opened. For some strange reason, the light from the elevator didn’t even touch the seemingly impenetrable darkness of the room before me.

Suddenly the elevator seemed humid, there was a current of clammy air lazily flowing into the elevator and heating it up. My glasses start fogging up as I get closer, squinting into the darkness. Why can’t I see anything?

I stepped in slowly, the ground felt oddly…squishy… and wet…What were those odd white squares above my head?

They kind of looked like teet-

“Your call has been disconnected. Attempting to reconnect…”

Blinking rapidly, I hear Clayton once more.

“You think I know every single problem the office has?”

Seriously, what is going on with this damned building? I tuned out Clayton for a moment, thinking hard. Was there any possibility that I was stuck in a time loop of some sort? Did that mean nothing I did mattered? No, I retained the memory at least.

I should aim to find out if I’m ever to escape the loop. The other possibility…

It wasn’t possible to contemplate the alternative without breaking down completely.

“Hello?? You alive in there?” Clayton looked mildly annoyed for a change. “Cause if you are, I’m gonna speak louder in case you’re deaf or something.”

Taking a deep breath, I clicked 4. Maybe it would give me some clues, unlike the other unhelpful ones.

“Hey, are you even listening?”

DING! There was music coming from under the door and it seemed promising, but when I tried to open the doors using the button or by force, it didn’t seem to work.

“Why don’t any of the damned doors open?” I demanded, now getting irritated with the whole situation.

“Who knows. Maybe the answer is right behind our noses.” Clayton shrugs.

“Don’t you mean under?” I said, giving him a look.

“That’s what I said.” Clayton sniffs dismissively and rolls his eyes, turning his chin up at me.

Something seemed off about that…His face turned back to mine, indignant. “Wait, so you can hear me! Why were you ignoring me earlier then???”

I ignored him, thinking hard. Behind, huh?

I turned around and there it was: a door with the number four on it. I could've sworn it wasn’t there before, or on any of the other floors…

The chipped bottom edge reminded me of the house I’d lived in with my parents as a child. “The floors always creaked, I could barely ever sleep and I always hid everything I owned.” I sighed, recalling those times.

Still, I vividly remembered there being no back door when I stepped into the elevator first… How was it here now?

“It’s probably your mind playing tricks on you.” Clayton said, disinterestedly picking at his fingernails. “You going in?”

“I guess I have to.” I can’t help but feel a bit tense as I open the door with a long drawn out squeak I can’t help but flinch at. As soon as I step into the room the door slams shut behind me and a feeling of dread creeps over me as I hear a chilling voice coming from beyond it.

“What was that?” My mother’s voice rose from the stairway down from my attic room.

It really is my room, a complete echo of it. Panicked, I searched desperately for something, anything, to use to escape. My every footstep causes the floor to creak and the window is locked despite my frantic pounding. I feel the familiar panic attack coming on as my breathing becomes ragged and shaky, trembling.

“You’d better be asleep by the time I get up there.” She says, her voice taking on a dangerous undertone.

Terrified tears sting my wide eyes as I scrabble through the abundance of drawers under my bed, had there always been so many?

Finally I thought to flip the mirror, which I often hid things behind. There was a sleeping pill sitting there innocently. I grabbed it and raced to the door, my heart pounding as I heard a mockery of my mother’s voice, now twisted and haglike. “You’ve escaped me…this time.” It hissed as I opened the door, stumbling and gasping for breath in the elevator once more.

“Hey, you okay?” Clayton asked. His face looked blurry through my tears and for a moment it seemed odd, but my eyes were stinging, so it would make sense…right?

“Not really, but it doesn't matter.” I said, ignoring my thoughts and holding the hard won sleeping pill. “I got this.”

“...so, something useless. Shall we go to the next floor?” Clayton asked.

“Yeah…let’s go.” I wheezed, trying to calm my racing heart, ignoring his comment.

DING! The doors opened to reveal…Nuclear waste?!

Immediately inside was a pool of murky green liquid, and across from that was a sign stating, “Spent Nuclear Fuel”.

What in the actual hell is going on here?? I wanted to scream. But then Clayton would give me a weird look…

My head started to spin from the strangeness of it all, my limbs still unsteady.

Or maybe it was the radiation? My nose started bleeding as my eyes became bleary and uncomfortable to open. The last thing I saw was Clayton’s face, not at all bothered by the radiation even as my own felt like tearing apart.

“Your call has been disconnected. Attempting to reconnect…”

DING! This time I didn’t even listen to Clayton, clicking the next floor up. He seemed to be getting increasingly irritated with me as the door slid open to reveal…

Me? And him?

No, we were different here. His doppelganger was disheveled, with stubble and looking like he hadn’t slept judging by the eyebags and partially undone a tie. Mine looked a bit more carefree, shirt unbuttoned, no tie…but there was something in his eyes as he smiled that made me back up half a step.

“Who are you and what’re you doing here?” I demanded, on guard at once.

“I’m Clayton Cole…” A nervous laugh came from his doppelganger as he responded, but it didn’t sound like his normal tone: instead of cheeky and a bit proud, it was deranged and a bit shaky.

My doppelganger rushed to cover the tonation difference, cheerily responding, “I’m Simon, pleased to meet you.”

“Gross!!! Do I really look like that?” The original Clayton asked, wrinkling his nose. “What happened to get you so damned ugly?”

The words seemed to burst out of the fake Clayton’s mouth in a panicked rush despite fake me’s sinister warning glare. “We’ve been stuck here for who knows how long! My watch died and we couldn’t even count…The only thing here was a pair of scissors! There are no buttons on this side and no means of escape, please you have to let us on with you!” He begged, his eyes desperate.

“Hand over the scissors and promise not to attack us…Then I’ll let you on.” I said, sneaking a sideways glance to my doppelganger, who looked like he could murder Clayton any second now.

“Thank you, thank you so so so much!” A relieved fake Clayton says, his shaky hand held out a pair of scissors.

I knew what I had to do.

Grabbed them, I whispered, “...sorry.” as I clicked the close doors button.

His eyes widened and I watched as my own face lunged at the doors, twisted into a mask of utter rage in a single instant. “I’LL KILL YOU I'LL KILL YOU I'LL KILL YOU!!!” He screamed.

In the background Clayton’s doppelganger moaned a low, “Noooo…nononononono…” as he sank to the ground, his head in hands.

The doors shut to my doppelganger’s enraged pounding and threats.

Clayton whistled. “Damn.”

“What?” I demanded, slipping the scissors into my back pocket.

“I just didn’t think you had it in you…I mean, that was pretty damned ruthless.” He shook his head slowly.

“They would have killed us. You don’t understand.” I said quietly.

“Oh I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, I just…I have a feeling the boss’ll reallllly like you.”

“Why?” I asked, suddenly suspicious. I stare at him and abruptly a thought strikes me. 

Is this even real? What if it’s just a long dream? Surely I couldn’t truly kill my own likeness, and Clayton’s as well, right? Of course, none of this was real. It was obvious, I should have seen it from the start. It was even clearer as he’d even answered my unspoken thoughts earlier, hadn’t he?

“What? Why’re you looking at me like that?” He asked.

I opened my mouth but he interrupted. “Oh, I get it, I get it. You think I’m somehow part of this elaborate fake reality or something? The reason those two looked just like us? I don’t honestly know why, but my best guess is…”

His voice was fading into the background.

He’s not real.

I looked at him, studied him. Every detail seemed clear, tangible.

He’s not real.

None of this is real, is it?

He was never real.

He was never here to help me. 

Never here to talk. 

Maybe never here…at all.

He never existed.

“Don’t you trust me?” He asked, the expression suddenly becoming terrifying and perverse.

No.

“Don’t you believe you’re with the same me as always?”

I didn’t. Not anymore.

The scissors were cold in my hands. I took them out.

Not real not real not real not real not real not real-

DING!

A crowd full of people stared at me in silence, filling the lobby as frozen bodies as I hovered over the bloody scene with the eyes of my doppelganger: shaky, dangerous, insane.

Not. Real.

“Your call has been disconnected. Attempting to reconnect.”

“You think I know-"

“Every office related problem, and no.” I interrupted him, flicking button 9.

DING!

It was like I’d disassociated this whole time. I knew what I had to do now. And it seemed that, while Clayton remembered nothing, the scissors were still in my pocket, cold and bloodless once again.

The 9th floor had a smiling man in a chair, sitting with one leg on his knee.

“Heeyyyyy, sorry about that boss, I was helping the newbie!” Clayton said cheerfully, conveniently leaving out his traffic issues as he strode forth towards the boss…

And plummeted from the exit of the elevator, disappearing from sight instantly. 

There was no floor.

The man was floating.

“I’ll be your interviewer today. Nice of you to finally join us.” His face was like a theatre mask, empty smile, dark eye holes, porcelain pale skin. “Take a seat, make yourself comfortable.”

“I’d rather stay here.” I said, eyeing the nonexistent floor.

“Whatever works for you.” His empty smile widened. “You’re here for your first day right? No complications finding your way here?”

“None.”

“Was Clayton helpful? I sent him your way…”

“Very, sir.” He was anything but, however judging by his seemingly pleasant exterior, he likely had the worst dark side of any person here, and I didn’t want to see it.

“I’m glad…This job is very forgiving of any mistakes. There will always, and I do mean always..” He grinned knowingly. “Be a second chance.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Now. Do your lungs work decently?”

“...Yes?” This question took me off guard.

“Good, good, I didn’t see that on your resume…Now, what do you think is the most important trait in a worker?” He took a few notes on a paper.

“A working left kidney?” I guessed, recalling the strange answer option on the application I’d so eagerly accepted an elevator ride earlier.

It was hard to believe so much had changed since the time I had mistakenly assumed that the answer was a joke by the employer. a part of what had caused me to apply for the job with my knowledge that employers with good senses of humor typically have a lower chance of firing you.

I wasn’t so naive anymore.

He nodded slowly, then reached out his hand for a shake. I took it, fully convinced he'd pull me in and let me plummet to the nothingness below...

Instead, he slipped a key into my hand. "A token of goodwill.” He explained, elaborating more with my bewildered look. “Congrats, you’re hired!"

I was now alone in the elevator as the doors closed on the top floor, hiding the man. It was odd, being alone for the first time since the beginning of this hell. The key fit perfectly in the hole next to the button labeled “Lobby”. Despite everything that had happened or perhaps because of it, I was eager to get home, to escape this mad world I’d been living in for the past…had it really only been 40 minutes?

That couldn’t be right.

Then again, I’d died and came back to life. I guess maybe it wasn’t that crazy after all.

It was a blissful, mind numbing relief to head towards the doors labeled exit on the opposite side of the lobby, filled with people rushing about. A smile broke out in spite of itself, I was free, at last, to leave this nightmare. To be released from this terrible hell I’d been forced into.

I would leave for a calming shower and rest, time to try to think through what had happened, consider maybe choosing another place of work even, somewhere less crazy and terrifying.

I was so caught up in the bliss of the thought of leaving that I bumped into a stranger.

Looking up instinctually to apologize, I froze in fear. It wore my father’s face but completely in shadow with only white where his eyes had been. He stared down at my petrified form and asked, “Where are you going? What are you doing?”

Even his voice was the same. “Why are you leaving? You’ve only just started. There’s no cause to leave now, after all you’ve done for this job. You’ve passed the interview, don’t you know how many would kill to be in your position? What cause do you have to be upset? You’re leaving so soon? You haven’t worked a day and you’re already giving up? After all, you need this job, don’t you? You’ll die without this job, won’t you? You need this job. You need this job.”

Shaking, I tried to steady my knees to no avail, the words echoing in my head.

I need this job.

I need this job.

I need this job.

I need this job.

“I…I need this job.” My shaky voice managed as despair overtook it, creeped out thoroughly by the figure.

“I’m…not leaving.” I stammered out.

Yet, that is.

He moved on, telling me to watch where I was going, and I glanced desperately towards the exit.

There was still hope, right? I could still leave, I could quit. They couldn’t actually stop me, could they? It was against the law. I could leave. I could.

Or so I thought.

I held my breath, praying and pleading and begging. This wasn’t unescapable. This wasn’t the end. There was still hope. I could still be free, creepy hallucinations aside. Maybe I’d just choose to be homeless instead? Or another job, though the very idea made my heart pound in fear.

EXIT. The doors slid open, light shining through.

What I saw destroyed all hopes, all dreams, all thoughts in my head.

The doors labeled EXIT didn’t lead outside at all.

They led to an elevator. An identical elevator. The same elevator as the one I’d died in an innumerable amount of times now.

There was no escape. There was no running. There was no freedom.

My knees gave out.

I’d been a fool.

"Call disconnected."