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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The need for a change in scenery kept me on edge as well as the unnerving stare Mr. Macho and I exchanged. He fingered the credit card sized invitation with his good hand, running the pad of his fingertips along the dogeared corners and crinkled edges, but his eyes never left mine. The handwritten message must have perplexed him, judging from the way he refused to pocket the card.
Time seemed to go by quickly, although only seconds passed. How much longer would I have to endure the claustrophobic torture? Would I have to give him what he wanted to ensure my safety? Those thoughts crossed my mind as I tried to determine Mr. Macho's intentions with me and the invitation card. When staring at each other proved pointless, the pile of junk in the corner, stacked chaotically on top of my overnight bag, called to me.
As soon as I turned, he scoffed. "Going to fetch your little pink toy?" His eyebrow lifted, arching seductively. "Must be a great way to pass the time."
I grabbed my phone, answering his question with my actions and a swift, "Fuck off."
"Ooh, dirty talk." He grinned, showcasing his pearly whites. "I love it."
I dismissed his comment and glanced at my phone. The time on the home screen read fifteen minutes past eight. It's been over an hour since first being trapped in this hellhole with an unhinged brute and it progressively worn on my sanity.
Next to the "no service" message, my phone displayed a low battery percentage. "My phone's dying like everything else around here." Although insensitive, the comment was a jab at him made to remind him of the horror he caused and the blood on his hands.
The remark didn't seem to faze him as he continued to twirl the invitation between his fingers. "You have a portable charger. Use it."
"I forgot my charger at—" I paused when he pointed to the device lying among the rest of my items in the pile.
"Funny looking phone charger, if you ask me." His scrutiny put me further on edge and his stare stung the longer it remained on me.
I shrugged off his comment, feigning disinterest. "It's missing the cord. I forgot it at home."
His eyebrow arched near the deep lines in his forehead, and he continued to twirl the card in his good hand.
Exhausted and mentally overwhelmed, I had no interest in playing his little game. The game of innuendos and deciphering body language. The pressure to call some sort of truce weighed on me. I took a deep breath. "Ok, let's be frank."
"Frank?" He chuckled.
"What's so funny?" I cocked my head.
"Nothing in particular." He shrugged. The hefty muscles of his shoulders barely lifted. "Let's be frank. Go on."
"You want something from me, and I want something from you." I huffed, feeling myself doing the opposite of what my instincts told me to do, and slowly chip away at my protective barrier. "So, let's figure it out. Let's lay it all on the table. What do you want?"
