"The Ninth Floor"
By: [Chirag]
Genre: Psychological Horror / Corporate Horror
Word Count: ~1,000 words
Content Warnings: Mild language, psychological tension, supernatural elements
The Ninth Floor
The elevator never stopped on the ninth floor.
Everyone at Virex Solutions knew it. Officially, the floor didn't exist - sandwiched between the eighth and tenth - but longtime employees whispered otherwise. A gap in the buttons, a flicker on the floor display, the brief sensation of slowing down before rising again. Subtle signs that something was there. Something best left alone.
It was Marla's third week as senior data analyst. A transfer from the San Francisco office, she didn't believe in ghosts or corporate legends. Numbers didn't lie, but people did. So when her badge flickered and granted her unexpected access to Floor 9, she hesitated? but only for a moment.
The doors slid open. Silence greeted her.
The hallway was pristine, eerily so. Carpet untouched. Fluorescent lights humming in perfect rhythm. Cubicles lined both sides, empty and orderly, as though waiting for workers who had just stepped out.
Her phone lost signal immediately. No bars. No Wi-Fi. No GPS. A chill crept under her blazer.
Still, she walked in.
Each workstation bore a nameplate, outdated by at least a decade. CRT monitors. Fax machines. Rolodexes. A museum of obsolete corporate tech. Yet the machines were on - green cursors blinking, screensavers dancing. One screen read simply:
"Welcome back, Marla."
She didn't remember ever working here.
She turned to leave. The elevator doors were gone. Not closed - gone. Just a seamless wall where they had been.
Panic rose, but she forced it down. She wasn't a junior associate anymore. This had to be some elaborate hazing ritual. Maybe a VR prototype test. Virex dabbled in immersive systems. This could be a test of psychological resilience.
Her footsteps echoed down the corridor. Light flickered behind her. Ahead, a single cubicle had its chair turned toward her. Someone was sitting there.
Marla approached slowly.
The figure was pale, back to her, typing on a mechanical keyboard with rapid, deliberate strokes. She opened her mouth to speak, but the figure spoke first.
"You're not supposed to be here yet."
Its voice was hers. Identical.
The figure turned. It was her. An older version. Tired eyes. Greyer hair. Same badge, same title - Senior Data Analyst - but on her blazer, the name had changed.
"Marla Hart, Ninth Floor Division."
"You're? me?" she whispered.
The older Marla smiled sadly. "They always come eventually. Ambition leads them here. Or curiosity. You opened the wrong door."
The walls began to hum.
"You accepted the job, but didn't read the full contract, did you?" Older Marla pointed to the fine print etched into the wall behind her:
"Position is permanent. Advancement is recursive. Exit is prohibited upon access to Level Nine."
The younger Marla stepped back. "I want to leave."
"There is no 'leave.' Only promotion."
Behind her, cubicles began to fill. Identical employees in Virex attire, all versions of herself, stared silently.
"We audit the minds that wandered too far," one said.
"We optimize the ambitions that outran their bodies," said another.
"You're already being processed," whispered the last.
Her phone buzzed once. A calendar reminder.
Meeting: Performance Review (Location: Floor 9 Conference Room)
Attendees: You
The walls began to close in. The lights dimmed to red.
Marla screamed, but no sound escaped.
Monday, 9:00 AM - 8th Floor, Virex Solutions
"Did we get that new transfer from San Francisco yet?" asked Olivia, the team lead.
"Nope," replied Alan, sipping coffee. "HR said she started three weeks ago, but I haven't seen her. Weird, huh?"
They both shrugged.
The elevator dinged. Skipped the ninth. Went straight to ten.
Like always.
END