Hotel Astor

William got off the N train at Broadway and 42nd street and headed north towards One Astor Plaza. It was 10:30 in the morning on a chilly November day. He loved seeing the bright lights of Times Square, but the crowds of tourists and the noise of the busy streets can be overpowering. William was a young man, just 27, he recently passed the bar exam after three tries, and was on his way to interview at Viacom for their legal department. He was wearing his best suit, an Anderson & Sheppard, dark navy blue with pin stripes. He was tall, with dirty blonde hair, strong jaw line, he knew he could get the job on looks alone.

He was twenty minutes early, he never liked being late to anything. The appointment was on the twentieth floor, but he figured he'd jump on the elevator and start heading up. He walked up to the silver doors of the elevator and pushed the up arrow. A gentle ping went off, and the elevator doors opened.

Right away William was struck by the vintage look of the elevator. The carpet was bright red, and the walls were lined with beautiful hand carved mahogany wood panels that hearken back to the art deco style of the late 1920's. Inside the elevator stood an oddly dressed man. He looked to be in his late 50's, he was wearing thick black rimmed glasses, his complexion was pale white. What struck William the most was this man's odd outfit. He was wearing a dark green suit of some kind, and had on a matching funny looking hat, it looked sort of like a fez, but without the tassels.

William leaned in to push the button for the twentieth floor, but when he looked at the brightly polished bronze number panel, he noticed it only went up to the eleventh floor. The man in the dark green suit looked surprised that William had even attempted to push one of the elevator buttons. The doors of the elevator had closed. For a moment there was a pause. The odd looking man in the green suit slowly turned towards William. "Which floor would you like sir?"

"Well, I would like to get to the twentieth floor". William briefly took out his cell phone to see what time it was, but when he pushed the power button it didn't turn on. 'I swear I charged it before I left the apartment.' he thought. The odd fact that his phone wouldn't turn on was about to be the least of his worries in a moment.

The man in the green suit said, "I'm sorry sir, but there is no twentieth floor, this elevator only goes to eleven."

"What? No, I have an appointment on the twentieth floor with the legal department at Viacom, I believe you're mistaken." William asserted.

"Sir, I am the elevator operator, I have been here since 1915, and I can assure you, there is no twentieth floor, and I don't know this 'Viacom".

William started laughing, "Dude, if you started working here in 1915, you'd be like 120 years old by now! And just out of curiosity, did you say you're the elevator operator? Is that actually a job? Any idiot can push the buttons on the panel, why would they pay someone to do that? This must be some kind of joke."

"What floor would you like sir?", the operator just ignored William's line of questioning, and kept an expression of stoicism.

"Just let me out buddy, I'll take another elevator".

"But there is no other elevator, you've caught the only one." the operator's voice became deeper and slower on those last few words.

William looked at the elevator operators hands, the skin had large sores, and were almost gray. There was a big splotch on the top of his left hand, it was obvious as his hand hovered over the buttons. Then William started to notice the smell of the elevator, it had the smell of decay, it was the same smell he smelled once when a mouse died in his apartment and he had to find it. Williams eyes slowly went up from the man's hands to his jacket which now seemed to be frayed, and covered in dust. As panic started to set in, William finally looked up at the man's face, the first thing he noticed were the whites of his eyes were gone, and his eyes were now just black. The flesh around his mouth had rotted away and his yellowing teeth protruding out his grey gums were the only thing left. His face was now bloated, and a putrid mix of purples, blues, and yellows. Maggots were crawling out of his ears and nose.

"Welcome to the Hotel Astor!" the dead operator let out low blood filled laugh and started coughing violently.