The Eighth Floor

A young woman, Irene, moves into an old apartment building in the city, lured by the suspiciously low rent. She quickly notices something strange-there is no eighth floor in the elevator panel, even though the building supposedly has twelve floors. When she asks her neighbors about it, they become tense and dismissive, warning her not to ask questions.

One night, Irene wakes up to the sound of knocking. It's coming from the wall behind her bed-an exterior wall. The knocks turn into scratching, then desperate pounding. When she investigates, she notices that the apartment numbers on her floor skip directly from 707 to 809.

Determined to uncover the truth, Irene pries open the old elevator panel, revealing a hidden button for the eighth floor. Against her better judgment, she presses it. The elevator jerks violently, the lights flicker, and when the doors open, she steps into a dimly lit hallway that smells of decay. The walls are smeared with faded, bloody handprints, and the doors are all slightly ajar.

As she cautiously walks forward, she realizes the rooms are mirror images of the ones on her own floor, filled with distorted, rotting versions of her neighbors. Some are crying, others are staring blankly at the ceiling-until they all slowly turn their heads toward her at once. A voice whispers behind her: "You weren't supposed to come here."

The last thing Irene sees before the lights go out is the elevator door closing-leaving her trapped on the eighth floor, where no one ever escapes.