Falling for You

Melissa Carala waited at the bar, swirling her olives in her martini. It had come from someone at the edge of the bar. Somebody looking for something they couldn’t have. She leaned forward putting her forearms on the wood. It was sticky. She sensed the men's eyes on her. The fat biker making fist-pumping gestures near his genitals and getting a laugh from his sweaty friends who were standing around the pool table, leaning drunk against their cues. It had not been more than twenty minutes and she had already been hit on three times. Why did I agree to meet him at this shithole? Why did he ask me to meet in the first place? Sure they had to be discrete, but this was a bit much, and fucking insulting. She finished her drink and placed seven dollars on the bar. The bell above the door rang. It was Julien. With his usual arrogant grin he walked over and placed his hands on her waist. 

    "Go sit down over there and I'll order you another drink," he said and she obliged. The desire to give him a piece of her mind still under the surface. He walked over, another martini and Guinness in hand. 

    "I was just about to leave. Real nice place you picked here. I mean jesus-"

He placed his hands on top of hers.

   "It's done. She's gone," he whispered his eyebrows raised emphatically.

Melissa sat back against the booth. She stared unblinking and dazed. When the shock subsided a smile slowly grew on her face. Her hands covered her mouth and she let out a muffled laugh.

   "How? When?"

   "Last night. Bullet to the brain. The guy made it look like a robbery gone wrong." His eyebrows curved pitifully. "My poor wife just couldn't fight back against the intruders," he said sarcastically. Melissa took a large sip of her dirty martini, leaned across the table, and kissed Julien, lightly biting his lower lip.

    "Let's get out of here. Somebody might see us. I'll meet you there," she said. And with that, she walked slowly and seductively out of the bar. 

The usual place was different every time. This time it was an old hotel on West Ninth. The Savoy. Melissa arrived a short time later. 

An intricate art deco design adorned the front of the elevator doors which were covered in gold paint that was beginning to chip and curl. A set of faux Doric columns framed either side of the doors. She pressed the button and watched as the arrow above moved slowly counterclockwise. The bell dinged and the doors rattled weakly as they opened. Melissa hesitated. She saw her reflection in the mirror at the back of the elevator and with an exhale she stepped inside. The doors shut and the car began its shaky ascent to the twenty-fourth floor. Melissa reached in her purse and applied her red lipstick that Julien was so fond of. 

    "You're in for a real treat," she said and kissed her reflection leaving a mark of red lipstick on the mirror. Then something moved in the mirror behind her. She turned around. It was probably just a shadow from the crack in the door, she thought to herself, but still, she stepped closer to the back corner of the elevator. A slight warm breeze blew across her left shoulder and up the side of her neck. Strands of her hair blew forward. By this time Melissa began to feel a pinch of fear forming in her shoulders. Grabbing her shoulder she stepped forward and turned around slowly. As she stared at her reflection her face began to distort. It swirled around into monstrous images, landing on a grotesque pink and hairless creature. Its round black eyes narrowed. Its pushed in snout and cleft-mouth showed an uneven row of jagged teeth. Its breath was labored and deep. Melissa screamed. At that moment, the elevator began to shake. The lights flickered and poor Melissa cowered in the corner. And then with a popping sound, the lights went out and the car stopped abruptly causing her to tumble forward. The only light now came from the dim red emergency lights. In a panic, she pressed every floor button. Then she pressed the red alarm button. A deep and steady moan came from the speakers above. The silver door to the phone creaked open. Hesitantly she reached for it pulling it slowly from its cradle.

    "Hello? Hello? Please help me. I'm stuck. I'm stuck in this elevator," she sobbed. 

    "Ma'am please stay calm," a woman answered. "I'm going to need to know your location."

    "I'm at The Savoy Hotel on West Ninth. I'm in the elevator. Please send somebody," Melissa pleaded. 

    "Don't you worry, Ms. Carala. Somebody is coming for you."

Melissa's hand began to tremble and a chill ran up the back of her neck.

    "I... I never told you my name," she stuttered. 

The woman began to laugh. 

    "Don't you worry, Ms. Carala. Somebody is coming for you." The sardonic laugh grew louder in the background as the woman repeated the phrase. Melissa slammed the phone down. In the mirror now, a black dog paced back and forth growling and curling its lip. It stopped and ran straight forward into the glass. The glass cracked. Melissa walked backward, her spine pressed against the door. She shook her head, mumbling incoherently in disbelief. She felt the crack of the elevator door against her spine and turned. Her fingertips fit just inside the opening and she pulled the doors open a sliver. Just enough to get her hands against each panel. The adrenaline pumped through her bloodstream and the doors slowly started to press open. The side of a woman's face appeared against the crack of the door. Her eyes, wide and dark, pressed against the opening. Melissa fell backward. The woman's hands squeezed through the opening and pushed the doors apart. Her face dripped black blood from a gritty wound on her forehead. It was the wife. It was Frieda stepping through the door. With stuttered steps, she reached for her. Melissa's legs wobbled. Her eyes rolled back and she collapsed on the floor.

    No more than 5 minutes later, the lights in the elevator began to flicker on. The power surged and came on with a groan. Melissa woke up on the floor of the elevator. Frieda was gone. The black dog was gone. The elevator shook and began to ascend the remaining five floors. Melissa stood up still dizzy and light-headed. On the twenty-fourth floor, the doors opened. Julien was standing in the elevator lobby. His face filled with both worry and relief.

"The power went out. I was so worried about you."

He held out his arms and Melissa stepped towards him. She began to cry and Julien stepped forward and held the doors open.

    "It's okay. The elevator was just stuck for a bit. You're okay now." He wrapped his arms around her. The elevator plunged. Julien fell backward, his legs cut off at the knee. Melissa reached for him. Well, her upper torso reached for him. 

The electrical power for an elevator is controlled by the mainline disconnect switch in the machine room. At the backend of the machine room, is the opening to the elevator shaft. Frieda looked above the elevator into the black hole from where it had fallen. The broken cables hung above and stuck out below the open car. She wiped the reddish-black corn syrup from her lips and looked down at the bottle of acid-laced Rohypnol. Melissa should have paid attention to where that martini came from. Frieda placed the axe against the wall. Melissa and Julien's amputated legs flopped and twitched on the floor. Maybe now Julien would stop running around with her.