Hellevator Stories Real Novels & Stories

"The broadcast is still live on the building's external screens. If we show the world those papers, Sterling can't spin it as a hack. It becomes a confession." ​They climbed. The higher they went, the thinner the air felt, the pressure of the conspiracy pushing against them. On the 50th floor, they emerged onto the helipad. The wind was a violent, screaming force, whipping Elena’s hair across her face as the city lights twinkled below, indifferent to the war happening in the sky. ​The helicopter was idling, its blades a rhythmic thrum that shook the very foundation of the building. Standing by the open door was Claire Vance.

It’s more the lack of power and prestige that will clip her wings. Her fall from grace could be spectacular and I’m here for all of it. They don’t say a word. Jayden just puts his hand up to quiet the buzz. The elevator doors close again and the numbers light up. It’s going up? Is there even an up from here? Maybe Heaven? I look quizzically at Lance next to me. “Helipad on roof. Someone’s arrived by helicopter,” he whispers. Holy shit. This is really happening. Lucky I bought the townhouse outright because I may not be able to afford rent or mortgage payments after today.

He pulled me close. "You idiot," he whispered into my ear. "You just burned forty million dollars." "I burned the leash, Caleb." I wiped the blood and water from my eyes. "Now we're both in the gutter. Let's see who survives the fall." The helicopter circled. The spotlight cut through the mist, searching for us. "The stairs," Caleb said. He pulled me up. "If we get to the basement, we can—" The floor beneath us gave way. We fell. Not into fire, but into the darkness of the elevator shaft.

She walked inside and then towards the elevators, waiting for the doors to shut before she pressed the seven on the keypad. Today was a quiet day at the plaza and the elevator didn’t make any stops, dropping her directly on her destination. She got out and walked towards the brown door with a polished plaque reading ‘Estate Experts.’ She knocked once and then walked in without waiting for a reply. Helene operated from a single roomed office - an enormous room but a single room nonetheless. She looked up from behind the desk as Ilana approached. Her eyebrows rose and she observed Ilana quietly for a second before she motioned for Ilana to take one of the empty chairs across from Helene.

Xyla and Stanley were freezing and both shocked by the peculiar scene they were seeing. The elevator incident was strange enough, but whatever this was made it even weirder. There were no longer in the real world. According to myths, red spider lilies only grew along the pathway to hell. Xyla couldn’t help but think they had gone to the Underworld somehow. Did the elevator take them all the way down to hell? She couldn’t help but gasp at the thought. Stanley frowned as he gazed at his wife. “Don’t be afraid. No matter where this place is, I will protect you.”

The doors slid shut, and they ascended in silence. When the elevator finally reached the top floor, it opened into a spacious helipad, the city sprawling out below like a breathtaking miniature world. A sleek, silver helicopter gleamed in the afternoon sun, its polished surface reflecting the cityscape. Allysa's heart hammered in her chest. A helicopter ride? This impulsive, extravagant gesture was so unlike the controlled, calculating Randall she thought she knew. Allysa's jaw dropped. "You own this?" she breathed, disbelief coloring her voice.

Thanks to the little cash Sammy spared me yesterday. The building was a ten story. And we lived on the seventh floor. But all the elevators were in bad conditions. They actually functioned, but you entered at your own risk. Ever since I heard how three different people got stuck there on different occasions for some hours, I never dared to use it. I rather used the stairs. Though risk takers like my roommates said it was fun taking it. Who knows? One of the rescuers could turn out to be your husband, they said.

With the call over, Helma rose and walked into the study, ready for what was next. Helma was hunched over her computer again, typing in the name "LEV International Terrorist Organization" for what felt like the millionth time. The group had been taken down by the cops on a global scale. However, Helma was convinced it was all a show—a clever ruse by LEV to slip into the shadows and become a ghost story, a legend of the past. It was as if they had faked their own death, vanishing without a trace.

Not the terrifying intensity underneath every joke that made my chest tighten whenever he got too quiet. But acknowledging it would mean acknowledging myself too. And I wasn't ready for that. So instead, I grabbed another tray of drinks and pretended my life wasn't slowly turning into a terrible decision wrapped in tension and stolen midnight fucks with a much younger man. "Lilith." I froze slightly. Oh fuck.

* **Floor 10-20: REPETITIVE TRAUMA (THE SLASHER SUB-DIVISION)** * **Floor 21-40: UNREQUITED LONGING (THE ROMANCE REVENUE STREAM)** * **Floor 41-60: EXISTENTIAL DREAD (THE PHILOSOPHICAL THRILLER WING)** * **Floor 61-80: SYSTEMIC OPPRESSION (THE DYSTOPIAN ENGINE)** "They've mapped out every way a human can suffer," I whispered, pressing the button for Floor 90. The elevator doors closed, but the ride wasn't a smooth ascent. As we passed each floor, the "Reality" inside the elevator changed.