87 Below
- Reads 3,675
- Votes 894
- Parts 35
Ongoing3h 37m
Last published Wed, Mar 8, 2023
With a watch on his wrist, no memory of his past, and a puzzle-filled room, Atlas tries desperately to escape the elevators.
Upon waking to darkness, Atlas stumbles into the white room. His desire for answers driving his feet to move. In the first room, he happens across a puzzle. This puzzle was the beginning of it all. As time passes he moves from room to room. Each one contains a puzzle and an elevator. Just as he believes he has found freedom, the elevators take him down once more. Every move leaves him with more questions and no answers.
A never-ending cycle of madness awaits.
A/N:
1st Place science fiction- Rose Gold awards
1st Place Science Fiction- June Book Worm Award
2nd Place out of 93 in The new writer awards! (all genres)
2nd Place Science Fiction- The Carnation Award
2nd Place Science Fiction- The Magical Book Awards
3rd Place for Science Fiction- Hidden Gem awards
3rd Place for Science Fiction- Mystical May Contest
The following people helped IMMENSELY with editing: @abusiveblueberries, @Aoife_bookworm_bluesc , @silverwarren
Cover by yours truly -^^-
This came to me in a dream and I decided to put it into reality. Please correct me on any spelling or grammatical errors.
All Rights Reserved
#583
trapped
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COMPLETED Roselyn is heading for her first-ever interview for one of the world's top enterprises. Being late, she steps into an almost-empty elevator and is attracted to the handsome man in a gray suit that compliments his electric blue eyes. She, of course, doesn't start any conversation between them. They are strangers after all, and she is not tempted to flirt with some random guy despite her interest. However, everything changes when the elevator gets stuck on the 70th floor... - - - 𝑇ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑝. 𝑇ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑝. 𝑇ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑝. As I'm aware of my surroundings now, the banging only adds to my trepidation. My tense jaw muscles tick as I grate my molars. 𝐶𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑘. 𝐶𝑙𝑢𝑛𝑘. That is the sound of metal breaking. I am sure of it. But what's outside? The maintenance crew? The firefighters? My lungs start constricting again. Stop. I have to stop overthinking. It's going to be fine. 𝑀𝑢𝑛𝑐ℎ. 𝑆𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑝. 𝐺𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑛. Light comes through the tiny puncture. First a beam, then a shaft, finally a gap. Fingers situate themselves onto the elevator floor. Blood-red cover the tips. Why will there be red paint on fingers? A long-lost dreadfulness pours into every pore of my body as a grim augury preoccupies my distressed mind. I unconsciously scoot to the back of the elevator, pressing my body close to Mr. Uburg's as I cling onto his robust arm. Hands grip onto the elevator door and use bare strength to rip the metal further apart. Then, a blood-plastered face comes into view. His bloodshot eyes bore into me with hunger. Patches of flesh on his forehead and cheek are torn. His nose is gone, replaced by a seeping wound. His teeth are crimson, a piece of fiber in between the gap of his incisors. What frightens me most is the emotion in his eyes. The craving for flesh and blood. The desire to fulfill his hunger. I do the only reasonable thing. I scream.
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