Another Door

A/N: I am not sponsored by TryHardNinja, I just like this song :p
Chapter 1

Thom Yorke of Radiohead stepped into the lobby of the hotel he was staying at, expecting the usual grandeur and opulence of a five-star establishment. But as he looked around, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The lobby was strange, not like a lobby at all. It was small and narrow, with nothing but a carpeted floor, a few plush chairs, and a set of elevators. There was no reception desk, no staff, and no other guests. Thom couldn't understand how an entire hotel could be so deserted.

He walked towards the elevators, hoping to find a way to get out of this bizarre place. But as he approached them, the door behind him suddenly slammed shut, and he heard the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking shut. He turned around, but there was no knob, no handle, no way to open the door. Panic set in as he realized he was trapped.

Thom turned back to the elevators, and as he looked up at the numbers above the doors, he noticed something strange. The numbers went up to 100, far higher than any building he had ever seen. He pressed the button for the ground floor, hoping it would take him out of this unsettling place. The elevator doors opened, revealing a plush interior that was out of sync with the eerie atmosphere of the lobby. Thom stepped inside and pressed the button for the lobby, but as the doors closed, the weather outside shifted from a sunny day to a stormy night in an instant. Instead of the bustling city street, the outside was just darkness, like a void. It was as if the hotel had been transported to another dimension.

The only thing that was normal was the cozy, 1950s style of the place, as if it was frozen in time. The walls were adorned with vintage paintings and elegant sconces, but it was all just an illusion to Thom, who was now certain that he was in some kind of nightmare. He pressed the button to take him back to the lobby but the elevator didn't move. Suddenly, he heard a voice whisper his name.

"Thom."

He spun around, but there was no one there. He tried to push the button once again to take him back to the lobby, but it was unresponsive. He was stuck in the elevator with no idea what was going on. Thom was terrified, and he knew he had to find a way out before it was too late.

Chapter 2

As the elevator doors slid open with a soft mechanical whisper, Thom Yorke stepped out into the encompassing stillness. He found himself in a room that looked, ostensibly at least, like a proper hotel lobby. Yet there was something about the stillness, the peculiar sense of emptiness that permeated the air, that kept him on edge. He couldn't shake off the feeling that he wasn't alone.

Across the room, he saw a door. Painted on it in an eerily neat handwriting were the numbers 001. His eyes travelled to the large, metallic padlock that hung stubbornly on the door handle, making it clear that entry was forbidden. He approached the door, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the cold, lonely walls.

In his search for a way out, Thom ransacked every drawer and cupboard in sight. His fingers brushed past a cold metallic surface. He pulled out a key, and his heart lifted. Alongside it were a lighter and a handful of coins. He pocketed the items, the coolness of the coins and the lighter providing a small degree of familiarity, a tiny piece of reality in this unsettling dimension.

He approached the locked door again, his heart pounding in his chest like an erratic drum. The key slid into the lock smoothly, a perfect fit. The padlock fell away, landing on the ground with a soft thud. Thom swung the door open, revealing a small, dimly-lit hallway. He hesitated at the entrance, his instincts screaming at him to retreat. But he swallowed his fear and stepped in.

As he progressed, his eyes fixated on a grimy window. Forming in the dust-covered glass were a pair of glowing eyes, alongside a mouth with an eerily humanlike smile. Thom's heart skipped a beat, and he stumbled back, dread coursing through his veins. As quickly as his petrified limbs would allow, he sprinted down the hallway.