Long Way Down Elevator Novels & Stories

, and the floor vibrated and started shaking to move, it was declining downwards. Hellion was standing at the edge with her shoulders folded upon one another, while Sam and Murphy jumped by the sudden movements under their feet! They were hoping for the surprises to end, as each and every of it was freaking them out. Hellion cleared her throat calmly after having watched the show of scaring them to death, her lips twitched into a smile as she explained the behavior of the room drowning in this odd fashion, “This is an elevator actually, designed as a room, whoever hasn’t encountered this earlier, doesn’t know what to do here and certainly gets caught in this little room of wonders”.

Victor checked the tablet. “About another five hundred meters below the main structure.” Daniel raised his eyebrows. “So we’re going deeper into the ocean?” Victor nodded. “Yes.” Elizabeth looked at Lewis. “Your father really liked secrets.” Lewis answered calmly. “He planned for many possibilities.” The elevator continued moving down. For a moment, no one spoke. Finally the elevator slowed. A loud metallic sound echoed as the platform stopped. The doors opened. A dark tunnel stretched ahead of them. The walls were rough stone mixed with old metal support beams.

The elevator continued to descend. It had been moving downward for what felt like an eternity. Far past the levels we had explored. Far past the library, the labs, and the heavy security vaults. The numbers on the display panel had stopped counting floors long ago, replaced only by a steady glowing line that seemed to stretch endlessly into the dark. The hum of the machinery was low and steady, vibrating softly through the floor beneath our feet. The air here was cooler, crisp, and carried a faint scent of ozone and old stone.

The foul-mouthed guy got back on his feet and moved on to the next corridor. ‘Lets part now,’ Elky whispered in my ear. And so we did. I just melted away into the dim light, and Elky Jennings stepped on to the grilled landing, slipping on slimed concrete floor before it. There was a low dirty railing next to the grilled panels that he managed to grab on his way down. A sleepy guard leaned to the wall in a far corner. Elky froze. He was in two minds shooting the guard dead: it could be a noisy affair. A few minutes had past until the guard’s walkie-talkie came to life. He listened to it half-ear, without much enthusiasm on display, unplastered his butt from the rocky wall and went away, swear

I threw them. ​Not at him. At the open coal chute behind the console a vertical drop that led straight into the flooded sewers of the lower East Side. ​"No!" Sterling lunged for them. ​As he reached for the bundle, I didn't use code. I didn't use a handshake. I used the one thing I’d learned from a lifetime on the streets. I kicked the brass lever at the base of the console the manual emergency brake for the station’s original freight elevator. ​The floor beneath Sterling’s feet vanished.

The plan had not accounted for a broken elevator, which meant fourteen flights of stairs with a four-and-a-half-year-old who was, on principle, opposed to being carried but had agreed to it today on the grounds that Patterson was also being carried and Patterson's legs were too short for stairs. Patterson was in Eli's left hand. Eli was on Selene's right hip. They descended fourteen flights together with the particular efficiency of people who had learned to adapt to each other's logistics without discussion. "How many more?" Eli asked, somewhere around the ninth floor. "Five." He considered this. "That's a lot." "It is." "Why is the elevator broken?" "Because things break sometimes." He abs

She quietly moved to the back of his wheelchair, fingers finding the handles. “Ready?” He nodded, anxiety shutting down his larynx—voice box—. They slipped down the hallway like shadows stitched into the seams of night. Past the empty common room, past the janitor’s closet, down the stairwell corridor. “We could actually use the Elevator?” Junior suggested as Nevena paused, swaying him into her arms. “Stairs,” she said. “Cameras in the elevator. You think I didn’t plan this?” Junior didn’t argue. He just leaned in on her and whispered, “Sorry for the trouble.”

The elevator system blinked once. Then changed. Upstairs in the hallway, Sebastian watched the elevator indicator. Penthouse level. 8th floor. 7th floor. Suddenly the numbers stopped. Then changed direction. The elevator started going down. Daniel smiled slightly. “It worked.” But downstairs in the elevator, Vanessa looked at the panel calmly. She noticed the change immediately. Her lips curved into a faint smile. “So you’re playing games.” She tapped the small black case in her hand. “Interesting.” When the elevator reached the parking level, the doors slowly opened.

Then, without a word, he turned toward the far corner, where a single panel in the wall gave way to an elevator, hidden, almost invisible. He pressed the button labeled B. The elevator shuddered softly as it descended. My curiosity pulsed through the silence, but I didn’t ask. I simply watched as the numbers flickered down, the air thickening with each passing second. When the doors opened, I froze. This wasn’t a basement. It was a world below the world, an underground structure draped in luxury. Crystal chandeliers, marble floors, and black-and-gold banners with intricate symbols, double ‘O’ I couldn’t quite decipher. It was elegant and terrifying.

"What if I want to get closer? How would that be?" "We're already close, Josh." Chloe smiled understandingly. No one spoke after that. The silence inside the elevator was filled only with the sound of the ding as the elevator didn't stop on any floor other than the basement and the lobby, as indicated on the panel buttons on Chloe's right side. The spacious elevator could accommodate about seven people and had a luxurious feel to it. She was surrounded by mirrors that reflected the people inside, including Chloe, who could see the figure of the man standing next to her without having to turn her head.