Lady In Red

Note, I've put Thriller, but if there was a horror or ghost category, I would have chosen that instead.



It was an accepted fact that the left lift in the east wing of the Newcombe building could not be relied on. It was one of three within the east wing of a building that served many companies on the various floors, and while the right and central lifts worked as you would expect, the left seemed to have a mind of its own.

Lift engineers had been to look at the problem on a number of occasions but found nothing. Quite the reverse. When lift engineers were around, it came when called, went to where it was needed; eager to please, it acted in a lift-like manner. But as they exited the building, it would slink off down to the basement where it seemed to spend most of its time. If someone from maintenance went down to the basement in one of the other lifts, it would look for another floor to lurk around on until the business in the basement was completed.

There were times when it did respond, busy times when it had no other choice but to pitch in. If this happened, the wary travellers would find the experience discomforting, though they could not tell you why. The left lift looked just like the right lift and the middle lift. It just didn’t feel the same.

As the left lift usually only functioned at very busy times, it was the case that there was normally more than one person waiting at a time. Which was just as well. The left lift was definitely one to be entered in the company of others.

***

Isaac Niedermeyer was the last person to leave the Newcombe Building that Christmas Eve. Everyone else had gone off early to get ready for the festivities. There’d been the last minute ‘Merry Christmas’, the joking ‘Don’t celebrate too hard, will you?’ as people had left their desks, their colleagues to go their separate ways.

No-one had thought to say Merry Christmas to Isaac other than his supervisor Richard when giving him the customary bottle of wine that he gave to all those he supervised. Neither had Isaac thought to bestow season’s greetings on any of his colleagues. It was not his style to wish anyone a Merry Christmas, a good weekend or a happy holiday. Isaac Niedermeyer lived in his own tiny world and didn’t think outside the confines of that world.

While others had left at 4 o’clock, 3 o’clock or in some instances at lunchtime, Isaac stuck to his customary 5 o’clock. He was a conscientious and thorough worker and 5’oclock was the time he was paid to, and he needed to tie up all loose ends before the holiday. He wouldn’t be back until the new year.

Finally admitting to himself that there was nothing to be gained by remaining longer, he closed down his PC, switched off the lights including those infernal flashing ones someone had draped round the office Christmas Tree, and grabbing his coat and bag, he headed to the exit.

It was his normal practice to use the stairs, yet when he arrived at the stairwell, the left lift was waiting invitingly for him. It seemed rude not to use it as it was already there. Not one to listen to office gossip, he was not aware of the reputation of the left lift, so entered in and thought nothing of it as the doors closed jaw-like behind him. As the lift descended, he questioned if he had been right to use the lift as it came to a juddering halt and the lights went out.

The sudden darkness didn’t worry Isaac unduly; he was a man of very little imagination, not likely to allow darkness and silence to have any effect on him other than a feeling of annoyance and the thought that he wished he’d used the stairs instead. He hoped he wouldn’t be stuck too long; his mother would worry if he was late home. With the power out he could not alert security. He had no mobile phone, as in the general rule of things he had no one he wished to call. So here he must remain until either the power came on or security did their rounds in the vicinity of the lift shaft.

If Isaac had been a man of more imagination, he might have been wary of the dark, alert to any insidious noises. He could have put up some sort of internal defence. As it was, there was no red tape, no barriers in his mind when whatever it was that lurked in the bowels of this building came hunting.

If he felt a cold breath on the nape of his neck, he put it down to a draft from somewhere and pulled up the collar of his coat. If he felt an icy embrace creeping up his legs, round his torso he put it down to that same draft. If he smelt an unpleasant faecal odour, he put it down to something emanating from backed-up outdated drains. He was in the process of making a mental note to inform someone about the smell when he lost the capacity to make mental notes.

As it was, the cold breath on his neck, the cold limbs that now embraced him showed itself to him in the dark. This ice-cold woman in red, showed him so many possibilities, so many pleasures that might be his. He wasn’t sure how he knew she was in red here in the pitch dark of the lift shaft, he only knew that she was.

And as he was in the promising embrace of the lady red, he missed the security guard who was checking to see if anyone was in the lift.

Isaac was not sure how long he was in the lift. He only knew that suddenly the lights came on, the lift jolted and began to descend. He had a vague feeling of something red. No more. The cold that had surrounded him was dissipating, the odour not quite so fast.

When he got down to the ground floor, he walked out to see Carl, a bemused security guard. “Didn’t you hear me? I was calling to make sure no one was in the lifts mate.”

Isaac viewed Carl casually. This was not the lady in red before him. “I was fine. I knew it would start up eventually.”

“Yes, but if it hadn’t, we’d have had to get the lift engineers to get you out, and how could we have done that if we didn’t know you were there?”

“No matter now,” replied Isaac and he walked towards the exit of the building.

“And a Merry bloody Christmas to you,” muttered Carl as Isaac left. He then stuck his head into the lift but pulled out quickly.

“What’s up?” It was Steve, come to take over from Carl for the night shift.

“Just had a power outage while that Niedermeyer guy was in the lift. I’d give it five before going in there mate. Smells like something died.”

Steve went close but didn’t enter – this was the left lift after all. He sniffed, wrinkled his nose and pulled back. “Probably farted when the lift opened and he saw your face mate.” They both laughed, moved on and didn’t notice how relieved they felt when the lift closed and took itself down to the basement.

***

Isaac Niedermeyer moved through the town as he did each evening, on autopilot. Tonight though he was more aware of his surroundings. He’d already forgotten about the lift, yet there were times when, well, there was a buzz inside his head. He’d no real love for Christmas as a rule, but he couldn’t help but notice the women that were dressed in seasonal red outfits. They sparked his interest, made his pulse race a little faster.

Made him smile in anticipation.

He arrived home, a house that he shared with Dorothy, his widowed mother, and the evening passed without further incident. He didn’t contribute to the evening’s conversation, such as it was. He was not interested in his mother’s day, she had no interest in his. The highlight of the evening was a soap on TV where some of the characters were celebrating Christmas dressed in seasonal red.

***

Christmas was not a big celebration in the Niedermeyer household. There were no decorations, few cards and the only presents were a bottle of aftershave for Isaac and a box of chocolates for Dorothy. And there was Christmas dinner, which involved a roast chicken for the one and only time in the year. A turkey would have been too much of an extravagance for the two of them and would have lasted the rest of the winter. At the given hour Isaac came to the table opposite his mother. He was aware that something was wrong. He looked at his mother and realised she was not dressed correctly. 

She should be wearing red, a voice inside him said.

She was not wearing red. She was wearing a simple cotton dress with small pink and mauve flowers, more synonymous with Easter than Christmas, but then Dorothy didn’t believe in splashing cash on clothing that could only be worn once a year.

“Bring the knife to carve the chicken would you,” Dorothy Niedermeyer asked her son. “It’ll need sharpening.”

And as he sharpened the knife, Isaac wondered about the dress being the wrong colour.

It should be red.

And in a dream, reaching round his mother from behind, Isaac Niedermeyer made the dress very red indeed.

***

It was early evening when Frank from next door called to wish the pair a Merry Christmas. Initially he stood in the kitchen doorway not quite making sense of what he saw. The Niedermeyers were normally a quiet pair. Then as he heard Isaac laughing in the living room, he carefully backed out of the house and called the police.

When the police arrived, it was to find Dorothy Niedermeyer sitting at the kitchen table, her throat slit.  Her dress was no longer red but rust brown where the blood had congealed. Isaac having lost interest now the dress was no longer red, had wandered into the living room to watch TV. He seemed unaware of what had happened and was bemused by the appearance of the police. He never uttered a coherent word again other than ‘red’.

***

Gossip back at the Newcombe Building was that Isaac Niedermeyer had suffered some sort of breakdown, murdered his mother. Carl and Steve talked to anyone that would listen that it was something to do with the left lift. After all, Niedermeyer had been stuck in there when the power failed. Simon their supervisor told them to shut it. Nevertheless, no further calls were made to the lift company to come and service the left lift, but if a wary traveller were to come across the left lift with its doors open, they would decide they could do with the exercise and take the stairs instead.