Four strangers are trapped in an elevator and forced to reveal details about their most malicious deeds within the hour to prevent a fall to their death. But as secrets are exposed, tension escalates, leading to a reality no one is prepared for.
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My eyes went big as I naturally scanned the room for a trace of where the knife had gone. "What's happening?"
"The lights went out and came back on." Mouse scoffed in a matter-of-fact tone. "Don't you have eyes?"
I could have asked him the same question, since apparently, he hadn't yet realized the knife was missing. Or was it a bluff? Not wanting to ruffle any feathers, I looked to the giant, who continued to test the elevator by pressing buttons.
Frustrated, he punched the unresponsive panel with his good hand, startling us both with the sound of impact. "Why the hell did the lights go off? What's going on out there?"
The lights going out were the least of my worries, although it was a valid concern. Was there an issue or something untoward going on out there that caused the lights to go out? Were the lights connected to the same electrical system as the elevator panel, and could that indicate a building-wide electrical issue? Or was something else happening?
Was it a coincidence that the lights went out after Mouse's weird ramblings?
"This is freaking me out." The fear in the mousy man's eyes showed he wasn't just talking out of his ass. He harbored a genuine fear of the flickering lights. "I should've never gotten myself into this. Now I might end up dead in this damn elevator."
The way Mr. Macho cocked an eye at him showed he thought the mousy man put more meaning behind the lights than was necessary.
"We'll get out of here." I nodded, hoping to keep him from doing something drastic out of desperation.
"You don't know that." He turned to me, showcasing a glare I couldn't quite digest, so I looked away only for him to continue. "You think you're above it all, don't you? You think nothing could happen to you?"
I chose not to answer, seeing the increasing frustration in his dark eyes. From my experience with Ms. Cardigan, that kind of terror and anxiety would not lead to good things. The panic would only escalate.
"Hey!" Mr. Macho butted in with a voice drenched in no-nonsense. "Back off, will you? You're scaring her." But even as he attempted to be my knight and come to my rescue, he possessed an unnerving demeanor.
From my perspective, men like Mr. Macho were usually the type who strolled through life thinking nothing bad could ever happen to them. They had a presence, a way of existing that announced, 'the world revolves around me, and laws, rules, and accountability need not apply.' They were the ones thoughtlessly walking into dangerous situations without understanding the threat until it was too late.
My eyes dipped to the body lying between us. And I regretted bringing attention to what should have been the obvious change in the room.
When Mr. Macho's gaze followed my line of sight, he glared. "Where's the knife?"
"Huh." Mouse huffed, scratching the scant whiskers on his pale chin. "Yeah, where is the knife?"
"I was about to ask the same thing." I assessed the room, seeing the accusation and suspicion exchange in the air between us as tares darted across the cramped space. Suddenly, I sensed the exact moment that we entered the next phase of phobias, especially the fear of being falsely accused.
