This story is based on a dream a friend of mine had. I thought it was marvellous and she agreed I could write the story. Enjoy, and laugh - it's supposed to be a bit silly, especially in parts 2 and 3, coming soon hopefully!
Caty Dean made her way down the long office with a faintly smug smile on her face. It was the last day of the working, five-day week –making tonight Friday Night. She glanced across the neat arrangement of partitions, and cast her gaze over still busily-working heads.
This was her final walk down this ‘corridor’ of cubicles; for she had just been given a promotion that granted her an office. A proper office with walls – just for her!
It was exactly what she had needed. Finally, she was getting a leg-up out of this dingy, ever un-changing office, and on to bigger and brighter things.
The lift doors were just opening as she reached it. It was empty – another piece of good fortune. Unfortunately, before Caty had the chance to press the ‘down’ button, Alison came around the corner. Groaning inwardly, Caty moved over to have the greatest amount of space possible between the two of them as Alison stepped inside.
Not one person in the whole of the office liked Alison. She was rather short, with mousy brown hair that was always getting in her eyes, or nose, or mouth. Her sense of fashion was deplorable; she wore corduroy skirts and bobbly, knitted jumpers that looked about four sizes too large. As if that was not bad enough, she spoke and acted as if she were above everybody else on the planet – up to and including the Queen.
Sensing her euphoric mood slipping rapidly away, Caty sighed and rested her head back against the smooth panelling on the lift wall.
“Hey! Hold the lift, would you?”
Caty’s heart fluttered both uncomfortably and joyously. She knew that voice. It belonged to Jason, head of marketing in this department. It was his job to edit and approve all the posters, advertisements for the business. He was the typical artsy guy: messy dark hair flopping playfully into his eyes, soft facial features that managed to keep a constant expression of tenderness, unusual frames on his glasses that always looked wonderful, and – because he liked to paint outside of work – there would often be a colourful smudge of paint on his nose, cheek or chin.
Half of the female staff was desperately in love with him. Caty liked to think she was not included in this group, but had to concede every time he looked her in the eye and smiled that gorgeous, winning smile of his.
“Sure,” replied Caty, pressing the hold button once, half-wishing the doors would close before Jason reached them.
“Thanks,” said Jason breathlessly, hurrying through the closing doors, his arms full of rolled up posters and his rucksack slipping off his shoulder. Alison looked at him disdainfully – clearly noting the acrylic paint stains on his jumper – and sniffed, turning the other way.
Caty and Jason shared a smile and a look, before the awkward silence fell. Caty cleared her throat quietly, and Jason hoisted the strap back up his arm.
“Oh, congratulations, Caty,” he said a few excruciating seconds later. “I heard about your promotion.”
“You did? Oh. Well, it’s not a big deal,” replied Caty nervously, flattered by his attention.
“Do we not work for the same boss?” asked Jason jokily. He rested his posters against the corner of the lift, evidently tired of holding them in his arms. “I’m pretty sure that the last person he promoted was me – and that was three years ago.”
Caty grinned sheepishly. “Well, thanks. But, wait - no, he promoted Sally a couple of months back.”
“Oh yeah,” said Jason reminiscently, and then he snorted. “No guessing why her, I suppose.”
They shared a dark, knowing chuckle for a moment. Then, once again, silence descended like a spiky black cloud. To extract herself from Jason’s shining blue eyes, she watched the little red numbers go down.
14... 13... 12...
“You have any plans tonight?”
“Err... nothing special,” she stammered, laughing timidly. “You?”
“I... Well, no. Not really.”
Caty made a small noise in the back of her throat, and instantly wondered why. It sounded like she was loosening phlegm – the perfect impression she wanted to make.
“I was thinking, do you...” began Jason.
“Caty, did you send that memo to Robert in accounting?” cut in Alison in her repulsive, shrill voice.
“Oh, God!” gasped Caty. “Oh, no!” She swore loudly, and Jason chuckled; Alison looked scandalised. “I completely forgot! Crap, crap, crap! Was it really important?”
“Only if you don’t want the company to go bust over the weekend.” Alison glowered at her.
Caty swore again. “Right, I’ll run up and do that now.”
The little red numbers declared they were on level three. Caty hastily pressed the stop button, but then decided it would be easier just to go down to the ground floor and catch another lift going up. Sighing heavily, she stepped back into the lift and chastised herself for forgetting. She could remember now: she had just been told to send on the information about that week’s takings, when she had been called into her boss’s office and given her promotion. All the excitement had driven the Top Priority memo right out of her mind.
2... 1... G.
Caty stepped forward, waiting for the brakes to squeal and the doors to slide open with a delicate whoosh.
But neither came. There was no sound of brakes. Slightly nervous, Caty jammed her finger twice into the ‘G’ button as Jason reached down to pick up his posters, but the lift kept moving.
“Is there a basement?” she asked Alison, panic beginning to show in her voice.
“Errm... no,” replied Alison. The pitch of her voice had risen several tones.
“Then why aren’t we stopping?”
-1... -2... -3... -4...
The number ‘-4’ flashed once, and then the tiny red bulbs died.
“OK, this is just a teensy bit weird,” said Jason. “Listen, Caty, I was saying...”
“Shh!” hissed Alison, and for once Caty agreed with her. She needed to concentrate on what on earth was going on – and hearing Jason’s smooth voice would not be helpful. She considered the possibility that the floor numbers were simply out of sync with reality – that they were actually still on level five, say. However, there were no more flashes of light coming from the bottom of the doors that signalled the passing of a floor.
No sooner had Caty realised this, than the lights flickered several times within the lift. Alison screamed, and Jason paled, his eyes wide.
“That’s not good.” Somehow, she was keeping calm. Patting her fringe down, then plumping it back up soothed her for a second, allowed her to think clearly.
Without warning, the lift suddenly picked up speed. All three of them swayed, their knees buckling, before they managed to grip onto the handrail that went around three sides of the lift. Jason’s posters fell out of his arms, onto the floor and rolled around, knocking into their ankles. The lights went out again – but did not come back on again. Alison began moaning under her breath, and Jason gripped Caty’s arm tightly, when the shock of sudden darkness made her let go of the rail.
Before they could panic for longer than a few seconds, the lift lurched to a stop. Jason’s hand, slick with sweat, slipped and Caty tumbled to the floor, smacking her head on the hard bottom of the lift.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God oh God oh God,” wailed Alison.
“Caty? Damn – Caty are you OK? Please say something Caty!”
“I’m fine, Jason, I’m fine.” She sat up slowly, cradling her head in one hand, the other she reached out to Jason, who managed to pull her gently to her feet. “I just hit my head, that’s all.”
“And you’re not concussed? How many fingers am I holding up?” demanded Jason in a desperate voice.
Caty tried to focus, but in the near total blackness she could barely see anything. “Seventeen,” she said, and he laughed shakily.
Silence fell again, but it was not the awkward silence of barely minutes previously. This was a silence of fear, a silence that waited for a next move.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the lift doors creaked open jaggedly. In the dim, green light that came from the odd naked strip light on the ceiling, they could see a low-ceilinged, rocky passageway that went straight on. It went straight on into nothingness – total darkness.
“Hello.”
Alison screamed as someone who was neither Caty nor Jason spoke from just a few feet away. She twisted her head, and saw a man standing in the opening. He was completely bald, with a massively tall forehead and an elongated skull that tapered at the top. She was reminded of a duck’s egg, for in the pale green light this man’s skin looked white. He wore a simple tunic that hung loosely around his bony frame. There were shapes and patterns on both his skin and clothing, but she could not tell what they were in this weak light.
“Hello, Caty,” he repeated in a quiet voice that matched the surroundings in its darkness. Caty’s mouth fell open, and she trembled in abject terror. “We’ve been waiting for you – for a long, long time.”
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