Ch. 1 One hell of a ride
Elevated Underworld — Story Sample
Slick slate floors. Faded beige walls, the air filled only with barely audible
murmurs along with mixed musky scents and beeping from fax machines.
Hooray.
Office work is so exciting here, at Prosaic Law Co.
Particularly when all you really do is fax papers and coffee runs.
These are the thoughts inside the head of Conner Hunts, a 27-year-old office
assistant at Prosaic Law Co.
As exciting as an office job can get, usually an office assistant is one of the more
popular picks, but with Prosaic Law Co. being a new business, with already a
plentiful amount of employees, yet very few clients, minimal work is demanded
of him, and the few things that are, they’re usually intern-type jobs.
Needless to say, it’s pretty boring here. How did I even end up here? And still be
here for nearly 7 years, Conner’s thoughts continued to dwell as he sat at his
desk, twiddling a pen between his fingers with a blank, spaced look on his face. I
always had so much potential. I was a top student in school. Sure I didn’t go to
college, but I still showed so much potential! He let out a low, barely audible
grumble as his thoughts grew louder. I should’ve gone to college. Dealing with
debt can’t be much worse than this hell-hole.
He put his pen down and leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the clock on the
wall. It’s seven fifty-nine pm, and his shift is over at eight pm; he watches it,
waiting for it to tick to eight.
Yet it feels like forever.
…Click…
Finally, It’s eight.
Conner let out a sigh as if he was holding his breath. Not a second sooner he
grabbed his bag and started to head out of his cubicle, towards the elevator to
leave this miserable place.
“I’m gonna go home, order some Chinese food and— Oh damn it.” Conner was
talking to himself under his breath until he was abruptly stopped by a co-worker
of his.
“Hi, Conner!” a co-worker said, a bit too enthusiastically, her voice high and
bubbly, it felt like it almost pierced Conner’s eardrums.
He plastered the fakest smile on his face.
“Heyyy, Chloe,” he responded with clenched teeth and an attempt to sound
equally enthused.
Chloe is completely clueless to the painful fakeness from Conner, not that he’s
surprised. Chloe is the breathing definition of the typical-blonde stereotype.
She’s not a bad person, just painfully annoying, especially to Conner.
“Sooo…Our shift is over!” she announced with a childish giggle and a grin to
match.
“Yeah. I know, Chloe. That’s why I’m trying to leave,” Conner replied, still
keeping his faux smile on until he attempts to move past her.
He continued walking, but a bit faster this time so he can hurry out of here,
however, Chloe catches up and gets in his way again, standing right in front of
him.
“Wellllll…” She trails off, making a cute-but-devious expression and puffing out
her already big, nearly completely silicone chest.
“If you don’t have any plans, I can make some,” she says with a wink at Conner,
playfully biting her pink manicured nail.
Conner sighs and puts on a smile again, his violet eyes gaze into Chloe’s baby
blues; for a moment everything doesn’t seem so bad while Chloe waits for his
reply.
…Tic…toc…
“You should definitely make some plans, Chloe, but I’m going home,” he
answered, waved to her then continued walking down to the elevator.
Chloe stayed still, confused by Conner’s response. “How can we go out if you’re
going home?” Chloe asked and turned to watch him walk off.
“Easy! You go out, and I stay at home! Goodnight, Chloe,” Conner responded
without looking back at the lost-looking lady.
This hallway has never felt so long before, but with Chloe out of the way, he
should reach the elevator in no time.
Mmm…Bok choy, or maybe lo mein. Hell, I’ll settle for some orange— Conner’s
thoughts were brought to a halt as another person stops him in his tracks.
“Mr. Hunts,” a broad, heavyset man blubbered.
“Good evening, Mr. Leroy.” Conner greeted him, trying to be as polite as
possible.
“Are you leaving already? There were still some papers at your desk.
Unresolved, I might add,” Leroy questioned with a passive aggressive tone.
“My shift was over at eight. I’ll finish them tomorrow.”
“You always say that.” Leroy grunted with a scowl that made him look like a
bulldog. Not the cute kind either.
“If I could finish it all within a day I’d be out of a job.” Conner glared with his
reply.
“You’ll be out of a job if you keep slacking too, Hunts,” Leroy blubbered again,
but with a cockier attitude. Not a bright move.
If you keep slacking… echoes in his head.
That hit a nerve for him, he is always working with what he can, but if some of
the other workers don’t pick up THEIR slack, he can’t do all his work on-time
either.
Conner wanted to give Leroy a what-for, but as much as he wanted to, and as
much as he hates his job, he needs it; so he clenched his jaw and took a deep
breath, keeping it all in.
“Mr. Leroy. The papers you saw were last minute. Trust me, if I could be more
active around here I would be. They will be finished tomorrow,” Conner calmly
explained.
“Is overtime too much for Conner Hunts?” Leroy mocked and made a pouty face
that turned into a sneer. Clearly, he’s trying to get Conner to snap.
Leroy has always been hard on him ever since he was a new intern, but no one
knows why.
Leroy is probably just a dick, at least that’s what Conner believes.
He stared blankly at Leroy, trying to keep his frustration bottled up but think of a
response that will get him to leave. After a moment of silence, Conner responds.
“Yes.” He then walks off past Leroy.
Finally, he reaches the elevator. He presses the down arrow button and proceeds
to walk into it, turning on his heels to face the opening and the rows of
numbered buttons on the side.
He quickly presses the button to shut the elevator door faster before someone
else can come in.
“Finally, I can get out of here,” Conner mumbles to himself as he presses the
button for the first floor.
Click
…
Click
…
The elevator doesn’t seem to be moving, Conner presses the first-floor button a
few more times, but it still doesn’t move.
“You can’t be serious.” He huffed, then tried to press the open door button, but
now the elevator won’t open either.
A mixture of anger and anxiety swirl inside of him as he starts to press the open
door and first-floor button interchangeably quicker and quicker.
He starts to break into a slight sweat and his eyesight begins to blur from
shooting his eyes back and forth between buttons so quickly.
Click Click Click Click Click Click Click!
When it refused to work, he lets out a yell and stomps hard on the floor.
“I just want to get out of this forsaken hell-hole!” he roared and slammed his fist
into the buttons.
Following his action, out of nowhere he felt a wave of a peculiar feeling; the best
it could be described as is if the elevator became vacuumed sealed. There’s a
deafening silence to the point he can hear his heartbeat.
No muffled idle chatter, no clicking of shoes beyond the elevator, nothing.
He stayed completely still for a minute for what felt like hours.
What is going on? This doesn’t feel right. Did I pop a vessel or something?
Conner thinks, trying to make sense of this strange predicament.
He lets out a short, hesitant, shaky exhale, and as soon as he did, the elevator
started to drop at an insane speed, so fast it lifted Conner off the ground for a hot
second before slamming him hard back onto the ground.
It must have knocked him out, one moment he’s in the air grazing the roof of the
elevator, following a loud metal crashing noise, the next thing he knows he’s on
the floor of the elevator hugging his bag tightly to him.
He slowly gets up, still wobbly on his legs and looks around the elevator. His
eyelids are still fluttering, but it looks like there’s no damage done to it. With the
loud crashing noise he heard before he would think there would be some sort of
dents; yet there isn’t, not even a scratch or smudge from his shoes.
After he gets his bearings, he notices there is still no noise. It wasn’t a soul-
sucking type like before, but still eerily quiet.
He doesn’t hear any commotion outside of the elevator, there’s nothing except
the unexplainable tension in the air. He slowly walks over to the door and stares
at the elevator buttons, cautiously one step at time moving towards them.
He remembers punching the buttons not long before he blacked out, yet the
buttons all look pristine, if anything they look cleaner than normal. The whole
elevator does for being an office one.
He looks down at his hand, both his knuckles and palm.
Not a scratch or the slightest bruise.
Was I—or am I, dreaming? Conner thinks as he analyzes his hand.
He looks back up at the buttons once more.
A dream or not, he has a bad feeling about all of this.
He can’t explain it, it’s just his natural instinct telling him he’s not safe.
It’s not like he can go anywhere but out, so he takes a deep breath and hesitantly
pushes the open door button.
This time, as if there was nothing wrong, the elevator opened. However, what’s
beyond the elevator door is nothing he could’ve prepared for.
Conner is greeted instantly with a punch of hot, moist sulfur fumes in the face,
making his eyes water and giving him the desire to gag. He hastily pulled out his
jacket from his bag to cover his mouth and nose from the stench before
continuing to cautiously walk out of the elevator.
He repeatedly wiped the tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket so he
can see his surroundings. At first all he could see were glimpses of a blood-toned
red and pure black.
Once his eyes could focus, he gazed around with wide eyes.
“…Where the hell am I? This isn’t Prosaic Law’s lobby,” he mumbled to
himself, and he’s not wrong; he’s in a lobby, but not Prosaic Law’s.
The lobby Conner is in is softly lit; it’s not bright but you can see clearly what
inhabits it. The walls are covered in molten rock and brimstone, ebony stalactites
decorate the ceiling with skeletal candle chandeliers and the ground is a mixture
of stone and marble with some lava creases creating decorative marks
throughout the floor. Directly ahead, is a deep red receptionist desk.
Obviously none of this is right, this is way too weird. Conner takes a few steps
back before turning fully around in hopes of getting back into the elevator, at
least it was familiar, but when he turned around he nearly smacked into a wall.
The elevator is gone.
“What the…?” he mumbled before turning again and looking around the lobby
once more before his eyes got fixated on the desk ahead. He feels he has no
choice but to head towards it.
The only noise there is is the echo of Conner’s shoes hitting the stone and
marble along with the faintest sound of lava flowing.
Still disturbing, but much better than the horrible silence he endured before.
As he got closer he sees a feminine figure sitting at the desk, accompanied by an
obnoxious chewing sound.
A woman with a messy bun, cat eyeglasses and bright calamine skin is sitting
there, open-mouth chewing gum and scrolling on the mouse of her computer.
At first Conner didn’t say anything; why is she pink? How did he get here? Why
can’t she chew with her mouth closed? These questions rose in his mind the
loudest.
A few minutes passed and the woman looked away from her screen and up at
Conner, she slowed her chewing to a stop.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Yeah uh…Where am I?” Conner questioned.
“Well, you’re in the Underworld, or Hades. You humans have different names
for it.” Her response was nonchalant, as if it was supposed to be obvious for the
poor guy.
“The underworld? Why?” Conner questioned further, none of this adds up to
him, not because he thought he was a saint, but because he didn’t die, or at least
he didn’t think he did.
“Why would anyone be here? Obviously you’re a damned soul here to suffer for
all eternity. Now what’s your name, age, and hometown.” The tone in her voice
is already getting annoying, maybe this is routine for her but this is all so strange
and unreal for him.
“Er…” He was hesitant to give her the information she demanded, but not giving
it to her won’t help his situation either.
“Conner A. Hunts. Twenty-seven. Captoune.”
She doesn’t say anything as she starts chewing her gum again and types the
information into her computer.
“…Hm…” her expression twists into a confused one, in the reflection of her
glasses Conner can see she’s scrolling through a huge list, stops, retypes his info,
and scrolls again.
“Did you lie about yourself?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the screen.
“Why would I lie?”
“To get out of here, duh.” She rolled her eyes.
“I’m pretty sure if someone could lie their way out of the Underworld, this place
would be empty.” She stopped for a second to give him a quick glare before
returning to her search.
“You don’t seem to be in our database,” she announced while gliding her chair
over to a landline phone.
“Maybe because I don’t belong here,” Conner glared at her when she wasn’t
looking.
“Yeah everyone says that.” She started to get a bit nippy as she dialed in a
number on the notepad next to the phone, the tapping her long pointed nails
make is almost as bad as the chewing noise she’d make.
“Hello. It’s Rose. Yeah the receptionist, who else? I got another human who isn’t
in the database. What should I do?” she, who apparently goes by Rose, is
whispering into the phone, but Conner can still hear her.
Another? he thought to himself as he stood there, waiting for her to get off the
phone.
“Um, Conner. Hunts. Age is twenty-seven. Captoune. Yeah,” she whispered into
the phone more.
While still on the phone she looks over and glances up and down at Conner.
“…Yeah, that matches. O-Okay. Right— yep.” She hangs up after and sighs in
embarrassment.
“What was that about?” Conner asked the very moment she hung up.
“Well…It turns out you really don’t um…belong here,” Rose admits while
looking through other phone numbers on the pad.
“I told you I didn’t belong here.” Conner commented.
“Shut it, human. You’re not supposed to be here at ALL. As in you’re actually
not even dead, it seems you…” Rose sighed and rubs her forehead with her
middle finger.
“You found a portal here from Earth and in short, you…kinda sorta… fell in.”
You can tell this is as much of a headache for her as it is for Conner.
“‘Fell in’? I walked into the elevator of my workplace and next I know I’m here!
I know my job is a hell-hole but I didn’t think there was an actual hell-hole in
it,” he began to rant, he’s relieved on the inside that he isn’t truly supposed to be
here, but also angry that he’s here and he’s not sure if he can get out.
Rose went back on the phone talking to someone again, completely tuning out
Conner’s ranting, after she hung up, she interrupted Conner.
“Okay, a demon is being assigned as your personal guide to get you out of here.”
She glides back to her computer on her chair.
“What? I can’t be, poofed out of here or whatever?” he asked.
“Sir, I’m a demon. Not your damn fairy godparent.” She scowled.
“Ma’am. Demons are supposed to be scary, not bitchy Clarice,” Conner sassed
back and crossed his arms.
Rose gave a glare that literally burned Conner, leaving a mark on his cheek. She
pointed out to a sitting area in the lobby.
“Go sit down until your assigned demon guide arrives,” she stated.
He flinched slightly and gently touched the burn mark on his cheek, then turned
and walked over to the area she pointed at. There’s no use arguing with a demon,
in the underworld, right?
“Go sit down until your assigned demon arrives.” Conner mocked under his
breath as he made his way to the sitting area.
It looked more like a theater display than a lobby one, the deep red chairs
decorated with hooves and horns on the legs and back respectively, are aligned
in rows.
They’re all empty except for one human sitting in the second row towards the
back.
That demon said something about another human not “registered”... he thought
to himself and wondered if that could be the other person. With his luck so far, it
probably isn’t, and is a murderer or someone awaiting their eternal torturing.
He lightly shook his head and decided to not chance it and took a seat in the
front row. All he wants is to get out of here.
The waiting feels like forever when it was probably only thirty minutes or so.
While waiting, he would occasionally glance over at Rose, who seems to not be
doing anything except carelessly scrolling on her computer again, and
obnoxiously chewing her gum.
The noise of her chewing is starting to consume any other faint noise here, the
urge to go over and yank the gum from her sharp, grimy mouth is almost
unbearable to Conner. He clenches his teeth and closes his eyes, taking a deep
breath-turned-huff.
“You seem awfully tense.” A gentle male voice breaks through the tension next
to Conner, startling him and almost making him fall out of his seat. He quickly
opened his eyes and looked to his side to see the only other human here was now
sitting beside him, giving him a concerned expression, but a warm smile.
“How-How did you? I didn’t hear any footsteps?” Conner questioned as his eyes
darted around quickly before settling them back on the young man.
“This place has the echo frequency of a bare auditorium??” He is getting leery of
this guy already, is he actually human? Because that wasn’t very human!
The young man chuckled. “You seemed preoccupied in your own world, so you
might not have noticed, that’s all,” the young man said while rummaging in his
pockets, pulled out a single-wrapped bandage, and proceeded to unwrap it,
gently placing it over Conner’s burn mark on his cheek.
“It won’t take away the burn, but at least it’s protected,” the man commented,
tucking his hands back into his lap.
“Uh…Thanks.” Conner feels thrown off-guard, he looks up and down the man;
he looks quite petite, wearing a tattered, semi-formal outfit. He notices the guy is
also ginger, despite having hair dyed a more unnatural red— his other features
gave it away. He also has human tones, unlike a certain Rose.
“Are you here because you have no soul?” Conner blurted with a smirk that
quickly disappeared, he realized a moment too late how incredibly offensive that
was; he smacked himself on the face and left his hand there to cover up some of
the embarrassment.
Good going, Conner, I’m not here for a day and I’m already proving why I
should belong here, he thought.
To Conner’s surprise however, the man laughed.
“That’s a classic! Because I’m ginger, yeah?” he laughed more and extended his
hand out to Conner. “My name is Abel Layne, and I’m not sure why I’m here!”
he introduces himself with a shrug and an unwavering smile.
Conner hesitates to introduce himself in return. Then again, what’s the harm in
it? It’s just a random stranger he met in Hell’s lobby. He slowly grabs Abel’s
hand and gives it a singular, firm shake. “I’m Conner…Hunts. Apparently the
Hell I call my job’s elevator dropped me here,” Conner responded grimly.
Abel’s eyes widened and moved closer to Conner. “That’s how I got here! I
mean, from an elevator, too.” Abel sounded surprised but also excited, while
Conner is only getting more disturbed by the thought of there being more than
one elevator becoming a portal to the Underworld, with that daunting thought, he
doesn’t respond to Abel.
During the silence between them, as Conner gets lost more in thought, he snaps
out of it quickly when he hears Rose’s chewing again.
He lets out a small yell, “DAMMIT! Is the concept of chewing with your mouth
closed foreign here?” Conner fumed while he glared over at the desk.
“It’ll be okay,” Abel calmly commented.
Conner slowly looked back over to Abel, anger still filling his eyes.
“Okay? Okay??? You do realize— Abel, is it? We are in HELL— NONE OF
THIS IS OKAY!” He nearly roared towards Abel as his voice grew louder and
stood up to temporarily tower over the other.
“All I wanted to do today was go home and order Chinese food,” Conner states
while straightening up and throwing his hands into the air, turning his face away
from Abel.
“But noo I got stuck in one hell only to end up in another!” Conner continued to
rant, he growled under his breath and sighed.
He yelled at this seemingly innocent man that’s only here on accident— just like
him.
He turned his head to look behind him, catching Abel’s face.
Abel had a neutral expression, yet he also spoke volumes through his gentle
eyes.
He understood why Conner yelled, and he knew it wasn’t truly directed towards
him, that he just needed to let out steam.
The calm aura that surrounded Abel only made Conner feel more guilty, and
without any more words, he sat back down next to him.
You have reached the end of the Chapter 1 sample snippet.
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