Elevator Hitch Protag Novels & Stories

Cale said, his voice cold and deadly, "don't bother calling an ambulance. Call a priest." The rigger swallowed. He looked unnerved. Cale turned and ran. He sprinted toward the access bridge that connected the roofs, moving with that impossible, blurring speed that Elion had noted in his journal. Elion watched him go. Then he turned to the rigger. "Hook me up," Elion said. The rigger strapped him in. He tightened the buckles until Elion gasped. He clipped the carabiner to the overhead safety line. Click.

He simply watched his reflection run away from him as the darkness claimed the lower tier. ​"Julian, jump!" Lyra yelled, reaching out from the open safety grate of the elevator platform. ​Julian launched himself across the widening gap as the catwalk dissolved into the flood. His boots slammed against the steel edge of the lift, and Leo immediately caught his vest, hauling him inside. ​Eniola slammed her fist against the manual emergency ascent button. ​The auxiliary batteries screamed in protest, and the elevator platform lurched upward into the dark vertical shaft just as a wall of black water obliterated the cavern below, sealing the First Prototype and his corrupted blueprint in a tomb o

He was out of balance, his head rolling back against my shoulder. "I have you," I said. I hooked my arm under his thighs, lifting him against my chest. He was a guy, an NHL center, but he felt light to me. I stepped into the elevator, slamming the button for the penthouse floor. The doors shut, cutting off the shouting from the garage. The elevator rose in silence. The digital floor indicator counted up to forty-four. The honey smell from Elliot's collar got stronger. It meant he was in heat. It was a strong signal. My own cedar scent flared up a heavy wall of pine that filled the elevator.

But her movement faltered when she spotted Catherine standing right outside the elevator, her eyes wide with recognition—and mischief. “L-Liz, do you know Allenon Farat?” Catherine asked. “Yes,” Elizabeth answered curtly. She brushed past her, heading straight for the maintenance team. One of the workers explained that a malfunctioning gear had triggered the elevator’s emergency control, which had thankfully been fixed in time. “Good thing maintenance was working nearby, or the elevator might have dropped completely,” the staff member said gravely. “Thank you. If you need anything for the repairs, inform Logan or Shanaya immediately.”

Daphne said. Nik had her arms around the other woman. I repeated the process and took us back up to the seventh floor. After the slowest ride in the history of elevators, we made it to the seventh floor. Everyone darted forward. I waited for them all to clear out. Doing my original job, I stood in the way of the doors. I put the device back in place and kept the doors open. Good thing, too. In less than five minutes, everyone came running back. Corrie and the hospital bed included.

He crashed against the rusted iron frame of the elevator, half-conscious, his golden eyes flickering wildly. I grabbed the director by the throat with a shadow tendril, but he managed to throw himself inside the lift, slamming his hand onto the emergency ascent button. “Dominic!” I screamed, diving into the elevator car just as the heavy, reinforced iron security gates slid shut, locking us inside the steel cage. The elevator groaned, its massive gears grinding as it began a rapid, high-speed ascent up the vertical shaft, moving away from the deep mines and toward the uncharted human corporate sectors above.

“Elara.” She looked up. “When I say jump... jump.” “What?” “Trust me.” “I do.” The answer came instantly. Without hesitation. His chest tightened. He had never wanted to deserve someone's trust as much as he did hers. He wrapped one arm around her securely. With the other, he reached toward the emergency lever. The elevator continued falling. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven. He pulled. Nothing happened. He pulled harder. The lever finally snapped downward. A violent grinding noise exploded beneath them.

Elias said. He stood by the door, listening to the distant, metallic groan of the service elevator as it climbed the thirty floors. The sound seemed to take an eternity, each click of the shaft gears sounding like a clock ticking down to zero. When the elevator finally chimed, the doors slid open to reveal a heavy, industrial plastic crate sitting on a rolling dolly. The night guard wasn't there; he had left the cart in the elevator, too intimidated by the Hawthorne name to step out onto the private floor after the disaster at the Pierre.

Only half of the lift was accessible to the floor, the other half faces the gray cemented wall. “You must go first, madame.” Fred said, guiding me to the front. A man in a suit reached his hand down to take me as I held mine up. But before I could grab him, a loud screeching sound filled our ears as the elevator escalated down quickly, the gravity pulling us down, the wall scraping the outer side of the elevator doors causing sparks to occur while I fell on the floor, Tony and Fred pulling me away from the front.

A man yelled back, and the people in the elevator cheered. “How many people are with you?” “5!” “There should be a trap door on the ceiling. Can you see it? Open it!” Declan shouted. After a few minutes, the emergency trap door opened, and Declan watched a man stick his hand out. “Great! Okay, we are going to throw some blankets and water bottles down! Stand against the walls.” He yelled. Sienna and he quickly fetched supplies from the rooms and aimed to drop them in through the trap roof. The elevator was a few meters down, and unfortunately, there was no ladder or way to climb up.