Something is changing the people in my apartment building. I don't know how better to describe the present phenomena rather than to explain as simply as I can that they come back different.

When they speak, their eyes never move.

They never leave for a second, piercing, dwelling shadow orbs that seem to know some deep secret

that I could never understand.

They seemed to be all connected somehow, in some inexplicable way, as if they are all in and some

cruel joke that I couldn't follow. Unless I went to the elevator of course.

I mention this now, not because I'm certain at the time of writing,

but because I have suspicions that have taken place over the past few weeks the things that have grown in me which must be described here

I am writing this because I am scared I can hear it speaking to me even now that chime calling from down the long hallway.

I need someone to know what happened to me if I come back different.

You see, having my sights on this apparition and try my best to discover the source of this

irregularity I have come to believe that it is the elevator that changes them the type with

a drawing scissor pattern cast in iron that grown that groans and shrieks and

cast an iron that groans and shrieks when it pulls to a gradual close with every

lift. There is something about it that I don't like.

Something that I haven't liked since I first moved into this place with my girlfriend,

Sarah, nearly two months ago.

It is something difficult to explain as anything more than a pervasive feeling, an inner sense of menace regarding

this particular elevator.

It seems to have an unnatural aura about it, a delightful, almost cheeriness when that medal gate expands, welcoming you in.

Inviting.

I think now would be a good time to let you know that I have never stepped foot into that contraption, not once. a spectacle 30s gave me a tour of the old structure and invited me in.

...