The elevator was always there, but no one could remember when it was installed. It stood in the middle of a forgotten hallway in an old office building that had long since been abandoned. The walls were cracked, the floorboards groaned underfoot, and dust covered everything like a thick shroud. But the elevator—its polished steel doors gleamed even in the dim light, as if untouched by time. Most people avoided the place, whispering about strange occurrences. Some said they heard voices from inside when no one was around. Others claimed the elevator would stop on floors that didn’t exist, or that the numbers on the panel changed when no one was looking. But for those who dared to enter, the experience was never the same afterward. One rainy evening, a young man named Leo found himself alone in the building after work. He had taken a wrong turn in the maze of corridors and stumbled upon the elevator. The door was slightly ajar, as if waiting for him. He hesitated, then stepped inside. The cabin was small and silent, the air thick with the scent of old metal and something faintly sweet, like burnt sugar. The buttons glowed faintly, though the power was supposedly out. As he pressed the button for the 13th floor, the lights flickered, and the elevator gave a soft hum. Then it began to move. Leo watched the numbers change slowly, each one vanishing before the next appeared. The 1st, 2nd, 3rd… but something was off. The numbers weren’t counting up—they were counting down. 13, 12, 11… His breath caught. He reached for the emergency button, but it was unresponsive. The doors remained closed, and the elevator continued its descent. When it finally stopped, the doors opened into a long, narrow corridor that looked nothing like the building he had just left. The walls were lined with faded photographs, each one showing a different person standing in front of the same elevator. All of them had the same blank expression, their eyes staring straight ahead, as if frozen in time. Leo stepped out cautiously, his footsteps echoing in the empty hall. A door at the end of the corridor creaked open, revealing a small room filled with old newspapers and journals. On the desk sat a notebook, its pages filled with names and dates. He flipped through them, reading the names of people who had entered the elevator over the years. Each entry ended with the same line: “He never came back.” A cold wind swept through the corridor, carrying with it a faint whisper. It wasn’t words, but a sound that made his skin crawl. He turned to leave, but the elevator doors had vanished. In their place was a mirror, reflecting not the hallway, but a version of himself standing in the elevator, watching him. Leo’s heart pounded. He reached out, but the mirror showed no reflection. Instead, the figure in the elevator raised a hand, pointing toward the far end of the corridor. The door he hadn’t noticed before was now open, revealing a dark stairwell leading downward. He ran, feet slapping against the floor, but the moment he reached the stairs, the entire building seemed to shift. The walls stretched, the ceiling lowered, and the air grew colder. At the bottom of the stairs, he found another elevator, identical to the first. This one was open, and inside, a single button was labeled “Exit.” He hesitated, then stepped inside. The doors closed behind him, and the elevator began to rise. When it stopped, the doors opened into the original hallway, the one he had come from. The building was quiet, the rain had stopped, and the elevator was gone, as if it had never existed. Leo never spoke of what happened that night. He kept the notebook, but the pages were blank now. And sometimes, when he passed by an old building, he would feel a strange pull, as if the elevator was still waiting, somewhere, for someone else to find it. No one knows how many have entered, or how many have never returned. But the elevator is still there, hidden in the corners of forgotten places, ready to take another soul on a journey no one can explain.