The Hunt

 Martin arrived early today, having nothing to do at home but wait. He was the only person on the first floor wearing a suit—a raindrop to the maintenance and custodial workers finishing their tasks before the daily flood.

His shoes clacked with each step over the polished marble floor as he strayed farther from the tall glass panes that lined the grand entrance. The natural light from the dull morning air faded the farther he went, eventually getting replaced completely by sets of migraine-inducing globe lights that dangled from the ceiling. The intense artificial illuminance bounced their piercing rays off the shiny hardwood walls and the smooth, black columns that lined it. There was no escape from their power, nothing except closing one’s eyes.

He stopped at the dead end of the hallway in front of a gold-trimmed elevator. The doors were already open—no maintenance labels, no cleaning signs, no barriers. Martin stepped inside. Turning around, he approached the control panel. There were 10 buttons total for the 10 floors of the building, no emergency or door control buttons were ever installed. Martin pressed the third floor button, but it didn’t budge. He pressed harder, then even harder, still nothing. He tightened his fist then struck it against the frozen button. He struck it again but harder, causing the metal cover of the control panel to shoot off onto the floor creating a loud racket.

His face redder than a cherry, Martin quickly bent down to pick up the cover. While standing up, he peered out of the elevator. He was alone. Returning to the control panel he started to fit the cover back in place when he stopped. Just above the grid of floor buttons, there was a smaller 11^th button, which was normally hidden by the panel’s cover. Martin looked back outside the elevator. Finding he was still alone, he returned to the panel then pressed the button. The doors closed in tandem.

The elevator ride was always slow—taking about 30-45 seconds per floor—which wasn’t helped by the fact there wasn’t any music that played. While an inconvenience at first glance, the elevator generally proved to be one of the better parts of the work day for most of the employees (especially if they could get in just by themselves). When the doors shut, all other sounds ceased with it, leaving a rare opportunity to hear only your thoughts and mild tinnitus. While it didn’t last forever, the elevator ride tended to be a greatly appreciated timeout from a hectic work day.

The elevator rose and rose, slowly but steadily. Martin rolled up his sleeve to check his watch—he was still a good 20 minutes early. A minute or so later, a mechanical grinding sound began on the outside of the elevator, gradually crescendoing the higher it climbed. The number above the control panel ticked to ‘9’... then ‘10’... then, a few seconds later, it went blank and the elevator jerked to a halt. The sudden motion knocked Martin off balance, forcing him to grab the wall to keep upright.

He stepped to the control panel and pushed the 10^th floor, but nothing changed. He began pressing the other buttons seemingly at random, but nothing happened. He turned around and started scanning the small 16 square foot room. The ceiling, walls, then the floor, but there wasn’t any hint of a trapdoor or possible opening anywhere.

“Hello!” he yelled with a shaky voice. “Hello!” he tried again. Hearing no answer, he began pacing back and forth. He stopped then yelled again, “Hey! Is anyone there?! Hello!” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then he started circling the room, cursing under his breath. He dragged his hands along the walls up and down, occasionally banging on them with his fist. He yelled once more, “Hey! Help!” This cry, however, was answered.

A laughter filled the room and the space beyond it, coming in booming staccato pulses, one burst at a time. “I like that,” it said before resuming its laughter. Martin leapt back from the walls, reeling his hands in as if they were just burned. He looked around with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Wh-Who’s there?” he squealed.

The laughter softened, making room for the voice to pick up again, “Who?… There?”

The voice spoke in a gentle, somewhat mechanical manner, although it still resembled the sound of a human. The pacing of its speech made it seem as though English was not it’s most comfortable form of communication. It paused at random locations as it spoke (even in the middle of a word), exaggerating certain syllables and holding others.

Martin repeated his question, more confidently this time, “Who are you?”

“Who am I? I know who I am. Who are you?”

“I’m—My name is Martin. Banes," he gulped. "I work here… On the third floor.” Martin waited in silence, wringing his hands and looking around the ceiling aimlessly.

After the delay, the voice finally replied, “This isn’t the third floor, Martin.”

He perked up to attention. “Yes! Yes, you’re right!” he approached the control panel then lined his finger up with the third floor button. “It was a mistake. I’ll just—”

A secondary panel slid down forcefully and covered all of the buttons. “WAIT.” boomed the voice. Martin froze, his hand still extended out to the panel. The voice continued, “It has been… so long. I have so much to share… Martin,” he began, “will you… stay with me? Here?”

Martin breathed heavy, not uttering a word. As he settled and his posture started to defrost, he let the voice know that he should be getting to work and that, “they’re expecting me soon”.

“It will only take a moment," the voice assured. "Please.”

After another pause, Martin exhaled sharply then asked, “I won’t get hurt? Will I?”

“Of course not… I only wish to show you.”

“Well... Okay. But it has to be quick!”

“PERFECT!” shouted the voice.

The elevator shot upwards like a rocket, traveling tremendously fast and shaking violently. The sudden jolt swept Martin off his feet forcing him to land hard on his bottom. He yelled, “You liar!” A few seconds later, the elevator slowed to a halt. Martin hobbled to his feet and brushed off his pants. He shook his fist at the ceiling and yelled again, “You lied! That did hurt!”

The voice began sincerely, “Oh Martin. You must excuse my excitement.”

Martin stomped his foot, “Take me back! Take me back right now!”

“Martin, please forgive me. I will make it up to you. I promise.”

Martin, with a still-clenched jaw, gave in, “Fine! You better make it up to me though, or I’m going back!”

“And I will. One billion times over. For now, though, I must… show you. Please, observe.”

The elevator doors slid open. It was black. Only black. Martin stepped to the open door and looked out, peering in all directions. “What is it?” he asked.

“Beauty. And Perfection.”

“I don’t,” he looked around more, “I don’t see anything. It’s… empty. A void.”

“Observe.”

Martin stepped back and scratched his head. “I don’t understand,” he said as the doors closed. “What was I supposed to see?”

“What,” the voice said, “do you desire most in life?”

“What do you mean?”

“Anything. You can have anything. What is it you choose?”

Martin moved his hand back to his head and ran it through his hair. He thought quietly to himself, then he looked up and said, “Well… money, I suppose.”

The voice ordered him to stand back. The doors opened and a thick wall of fresh $100 bills caved in, flooding the room with cash up to Martin’s waist.

“Wow!” he chuckled. He peered over his new fortune like an artist studying a masterpiece. “There has to be nearly a billion dollars here, haha! This is, this is…” he frowned, “but...how am I supposed to take this all home? I’ll get robbed the moment the doors open.”

“Home?… Do you like your home, Martin?”

“I guess so, sure.”

“Do you ever find it… lacking?”

“Well, sometimes. It is a little small, and the neighbors can be a pain.”

“Behold.” The door slid open, revealing a large, new construction suburban home with a freshly-trimmed lawn the size of a football field. The property sat on a chunk of earth surrounded by nothing but clear blue sky.

Martin waded out of the elevator, spilling out heaps of money with him. “It’s beautiful. And huge!”

The voice continued Martin’s observation, “And fully furnished. And yours… Welcome home, my dearest.”

-

Martin paraded through the house, gasping with every turn. He sat on each chair, stretched out on both of the sofas, and rolled around, giggling over the king sized bed. He eventually returned to the elevator.

“How do you like it?” the voice asked.

“It’s amazing! Nicer than any place I’ve ever seen!” He was panting and smiling like a child who just left a playground.

“Wonderful.”

Martin looked over his shoulder at the house. “It sure is nice,” he said, still catching his breath, “but I should really head back to work.”

“Work? Why work when you can have anything here for free?”

Martin squinted. “Anything?”

“And everything. All you need to do is ask.”

He looked around, thinking to himself for a moment. “Well, if that’s the case… One thing I noticed lacking was a television.” he turned towards the elevator, “You wouldn’t happen—”

“Done. It’s in the living room, my dearest.”

Martin raised his eyebrows. “Oh! And it has channel 42 on it?”

“It has every channel, show, and movie to ever exist, all available at every hour of the day.”

“Wow!” he exclaimed, barely containing a wide smile. “I guess this place isn’t so bad… Well! If you’ll excuse me, I think I have some catching up to do!” He turned around and marched back to the house.

-

About 4 hours later, Martin slunk back to the elevator.

“Yes, my dearest?” asked the voice.

“I just wanted to see if you could possibly… maybe get me something to eat?”

The doors slid open, revealing a silver platter with two ribeye steaks and a side of mashed potatoes. Martin chuckled as he grabbed the tray.

“You wouldn’t possibly have a drink or two to help wash this down?” he wondered with a smile.

At that moment, an unlabeled bottle of beer appeared on Martin’s tray. “This bottle will never deplete.” explained the voice. “Drink as much as you’d like.”

Martin laughed, “Haha! I… Thank you! You’ve certainly made it up to me now, haha!” With that, he retreated back to the house.

-

About 3 days passed, all of which followed the same pattern as the first—TV, food, and beer. At the start of the new day, Martin appeared before the elevator yet again.

“This TV is nice and all, but, well, I’ve been thinking it would be a good idea to step away from the screen for a bit and enjoy some good old-fashioned reading. What do you say, do you have any books around?”

A grinding sound filled the void as the ground began to shake. A new island was soon erected beside the original property. A large marble building with tall columns sat upon it. “This,” began the voice, “is your new library. It houses every single written story and document to ever exist.”

Martin turned to the elevator. He cheered, “You did it again, haha!” before he ran off to the new building.

-

The next week, Martin arrived at the elevator again.

“Yes, my dearest?”

“All of this entertainment and food, it’s all great (really!), but… Well, I’ve just been here so long… Alone… Just by myself.”

“Yes?”

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “a man... He gets lonely sometimes.”

“Martin, I’m an elevator.”

“No, no! That’s not what I meant! Listen, there was this model in a magazine I used to read—“

“Say no more.”

The doors opened. A lean woman in her mid-20’s stepped out. While she wasn’t the exact person he was referring to, Martin failed to look any bit disappointed.

The voice explained, “Do note. Any living being I create is incapable of any emotion, opinion, thought, or memory. They are real, but only in the physical sense.”

Martin, grinning ear-to-ear, took the woman by the hand and walked her to the house. “That’s alright with me!” he hollered.

“For now.” muttered the voice.

-

An entire year had gone since Martin first stepped into the void. Solid ground had now consumed huge swaths of it, filling the view with all sorts of new buildings, scenery, and road (which was traveled over frequently by Martin’s vast collection of vehicles). The population of the void also increased significantly over the year—up to about 200 people and animals—though none of them existed outside of the physical sense. Despite all of the time, food, alcohol, and other ventures, Martin remained in the same physical state he was in the year before. No weight change, no illnesses, no injuries.

After 5 years, the void was essentially the size of earth. Martin traveled it frequently and took on hundreds of new hobbies. On the verge of the 8^th year, Martin embarked on a mission to fill his world with life. Between his theaters and bowling alleys, he added buildings like grocery stores and shopping malls, then he filled each of them with a variety of employees and customers. He added more houses around his and filled them with neighbors with pets and families. In the more natural regions, he added wild animals, who he would visit frequently to study their patterns and watch them fight.

While his world was definitely more crowded, it still lacked the life he hoped it would bring. He couldn’t communicate believably with anyone, there was never any news or drama, just a land filled with mindless zombies. Towards the end of the year, he removed them all.

-

Martin didn’t leave his bed for 4 days straight, not even to eat. When he finally did get up, he headed straight to the elevator.

He asked the voice, “How long do I have left?”

“Left for what” it replied.

“Life.”

“My dearest. Why do you ask such a question?”

Martin sat down on the bare ground. “I’m bored. Nothing here interests me anymore.”

“Surely there’s something you can think of to fix that.”

“I feel like there is, but I just can’t think of it…” After a moment, he perked up, “I can’t think of anything, but maybe you can! Yeah,” he stood up, “tell me: What do I want? What will make me happy again?”

No response.

“Come on, you must know! What do I want? Tell me!”

The voice chuckled softly, “I already have.”

“When?”

Silence.

Martin punched the air then sat down again, burying his face in his hands. “Ah, what’s the use. I’ll just get bored of whatever that is, too… Is life just one endless hunt where happiness is the prey?”

The voice laughed, loudly this time, “Martin. My dearest. All of these years you’ve spent with me,” A loud ‘cachunk’ sound interrupted and, in an instant, everything in the void disappeared, even the sky. All that remained was Martin, the elevator, and darkness. The voice finished, “and what do you have to show for it?”

Martin nearly fainted. He scrambled over syllables and noises, but he failed to properly speak. A rag was spawned then gracefully wrapped over his mouth.

“Silence.”

Martin squirmed and shouted through his gag. Another rag was added.

The voice spoke, “An easy life—one without consequence, without risk, without reward—is no life at all.”

The voice then boomed with laughter. Martin’s eyes watered, his breathing thinned.

[END]