End of the Day shortscarystories

It had been a long, tiring day at work. I was treated like shit, and I wanted nothing more than to put my feet up on the ottoman, crack open a cold-one, and watch an episode or two of Cops before hitting the hay.

I walked into the apartment lobby and checked my mailbox. There was a white slip of paper inside with writing on it. I pulled it out to read the black script:

Don’t use the elevator. Take the stairs. -God

What the hell?

Never mind who was fucking with me here, I didn’t want to take the stairs. I lived on the 18th floor.

I stood in the lobby and looked at the closed, grey doors. The same doors that opened everyday for me by the press of a button. There was no maintenance sign on the door, nothing hinting that it was inoperable for the time being. And I was very tired from work.

I’ll take my chances, God.

I walked over then pressed the button. The doors opened like they usually did. I stepped inside and pressed the 18-button. The doors closed. Then the elevator started to move. The numbers on the LED screen above the frame of the door began increasing: 2… 3… 4… and so on. Finally, 18. It stopped, then the doors opened.

I exited and stopped in the hall, looking both ways. Nobody to be seen, and quiet. Typical for a Thursday night. The fluorescent lighting was a little brighter than normal, but the maintenance man must’ve replaced the bulbs.

You know, I’ll go and open the stair-well door and see what the better alternative would’ve yielded.

So I walked past my door to the end of the hall, and opened the door to the stairs. Upon opening it, I immediately halted and grabbed the door frame. There were no stairs, no rails, no landings; There was a large, black pit with no bottom to be seen. And screaming and laughter ascended from it. I stepped back and stared down at the pit.

Far below, approximately where the first floor door would be, a man stepped out and fell into the black depths, screaming as his body was engulfed in the black. I stepped back and slammed the door shut, taking deep breaths.

Fuck! Thanks, God!

I walked quickly to my door and went inside, and locked it, then turned on the hallway light panting. Then I walked into the kitchen to grab a beer and make sense of what happened. I grabbed a can from the refrigerator, popped the tab, then shut the door.

Before my face there was a note folded and taped to the fridge-door. My arms trembled as I reached for it. I opened the note, and it read:

I didn’t write that note. Sincerely, -The Real God

I took a gulp of my beer, set the note on the kitchen counter, and lied on the couch with my feet up on the ottoman, and watched Cops.

Submitted June 16, 2016 at 12:27AM by EricMoralevitz http://ift.tt/1UzDN54 shortscarystories