Aman was a man in his late twenties. He had recently moved to Delhi due to job-related issues and now lived in a 17-floor flat, occupying the 10th floor.
His job kept him quite busy, often causing him to return home from the office around 2 am. Despite only a week in his new place, he had comfortably adapted to his environment.
It was the second Friday of December, and the weather was freezing cold. Aman had a long day at the office, leaving him feeling extremely dizzy, with a strong desire to get home, sleep deeply, and never wake up.
In this dazed state, his legs moved as if on autopilot, heading somewhere, lost in thought, almost like a zombie. That night, he decided to take the elevator, bringing his hands closer to warm his numb fingers before pressing the lift button.
The elevator descended: 3rd floor, 2nd floor, 1st floor, and the doors opened. Aman stepped inside, turned on the lights, and pressed the button for the 10th floor. As the elevator ascended, he began to style his hair, which looked rather messy, akin to a 90s cinema villain. His black eyes showed signs of exhaustion, making him appear as though he had been on drugs for days.
The elevator continued its journey: 2nd floor, 3rd floor, 4th floor, 5th floor, and the doors opened again. Aman glanced outside, surprised to see no one there. Perhaps it was a child's prank, but who would do that at 2 am? He started to close the doors, but the elevator opened again, accompanied by a flicker of lights. He dismissed it, attributing it to the old building. The elevator started ascending once more, but at the 6th floor, the doors opened again.
This time, Aman saw a family entering: a man, a woman, and two kids. It was a good guess on his part. He stepped aside and leaned against the mirrored wall, realizing he didn't know this family since he had just moved in. The man had tanned skin, brown hair, and wore a blue shirt and grey pants. His head was tilted downward, and he had dark circles under his eyes, with the scent of aftershave lingering. The woman wore a black saree, different from everyday wear, suggesting they had returned from an event, likely a family function. Her hair was in a bun. The two kids, one around twelve and the other fifteen or sixteen, wore black T-shirts, their faces mostly obscured as they looked down. The elevator doors closed, and a sudden chill filled the air, prompting Aman to clutch his coat.
"Hello, sir. Hello, ma'am. I'm Aman, and I live in 7-G. I recently moved here. Isn't the weather cold tonight?" Aman said, offering a friendly smile and folding his hands.
There was no response, which dampened his excitement.
"So, how long have you been living here?" He asked again, but still, there was no reply. His enthusiasm waned.
Aman glanced to the lift buttons where he saw that the lift was still on the 5th floor.
"What the..." Aman started to say but couldn't finish as he frantically pressed the 10th-floor button again and again.
Suddenly, the woman spoke, "Nothing will happen, dear."
Aman turned around, and what he saw sent shivers down his spine. In the elevator's mirror, he only saw himself. Alone.
Panicking, he looked back at the woman, and for the first time, he met her gaze. She had no eyes, just hollow, dark sockets that seemed to pierce his soul.
The two children and the man finally looked up, revealing faces marred by burns, frozen blood covering their features. Aman's heart raced, and he felt like this must be a dream. It had to be.
He was terrified, and the elevator's lights began to flicker. The doors wouldn't open. Aman pounded on them and shouted for help.
"HELP! SOMEONE HELP! SOMEONE—PLEASE SOMEONE— COME—HELP ME—" Tears streamed down his face.
The family started laughing, a chilling, deathly laugh that echoed through the elevator.
At that moment, the elevator suddenly started moving again, now going up to the 18th floor. But the 18th floor didn't exist. The building only had 17 floors, and the elevator only went up to the 16th floor.
The elevator sped up, and the family mumbled incoherent words. "18-D—Friday—2 am—fire—killed—our family—our lovely family."
Aman was in tears, and he knew that death was imminent.
Aman collapsed.
When he awoke, he found himself in the nearest hospital, and it was 10 am. It took a moment for him to comprehend where he was and what had happened.
He began crying, but this time, it was a cry of relief that he was safe. Mr. Awasti, a senior member of the society, was there too.
"Oh, Aman! I'm glad to see that you're all right," he said.
"Sir, I need to tell you about what happened last night," Aman said, still with tears in his eyes.
"Yes, yes, Aman. I know what happened to you. The security guard found you unconscious in the elevator on the 5th floor. We reviewed the CCTV footage last night and saw you talking to someone—or something—that wasn't there. I understand what this is all about," Mr. Awasti replied.
"What do you mean? Who were those people? I saw a family. They mentioned something about 18-D and a fire," Aman asked.
Mr. Awasti began, "Listen to me carefully, Aman. Seven years ago, when this building was newly constructed, a family lived on the 18th floor, and I lived on the 17th floor. Mr. Ravi, his wife, and their two kids. We were very close, often sharing meals and attending events together. On that fateful night, we were returning from a nearby wedding. I'm claustrophobic, so I took the stairs, while they opted for the elevator. Although the lift was new, it had some defects, and we had requested the engineer to come and fix it. However, the family continued to use it. Due to an electrical issue, the elevator lost control, resulting in a sudden explosion. Friction caused a spark that led to the explosion inside the elevator. The family perished, and no one survived. Their faces were severely burned. As the building was new, the society staff tried to cover up the incident to preserve the society's reputation. After that, both the 17th and 18th floors were permanently closed off, as residents reported hearing the laughter of two children, followed by cries."
"Wow," Aman said, shocked.
"After that day, I too have nightmares about that family, saying 'You could save us. Why don't you saved us? Our family was MURDERED because of you..Aman, you are the only person I shared this information and i feel I am the one who..who killed them...I feel it's all my fault...i should have told them about the lift", Awasti broke into tears.
He moved to the window, opened the curtains and looked at the society that was visible from there. He pointed to the 18th floor (which was now a terrance or something).
"That floor...that floor! Listen Aman, I don't want to put anyone's life in danger now. If killing myself will give peace to the spirits. I will...I will...I will kill myself"
"Huh? Aman got to his feet and then...
[Window shattered]
×—×—×
- Agastya Bahuguna
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Elevator - A Short Thriller
HorrorAman, a young professional, encounters a ghostly family in his apartment building's elevator. They died in a tragic accident seven years ago, and their spirits are trapped, seeking justice. The building's dark past and cover-up are revealed by Mr. A...
