The elevator doors opened. He stood there under the dim yellow lighting of a flickering light bulb, a handful of balloons hanging from white strings wrapped around his fingers. A clown. A very tall, very large clown. Dana stepped into the elevator immediately, and the doors closed shut behind her. Her meeting was on the twelfth floor of the hotel above them and she was running late. As for the clown, she could only imagine what his purpose could be. The lights flickered more severely, shrouding them in darkness for nearly a full second before turning back on.

"They should get that fixed," she joked, laughing awkwardly at her quiet elevator companion before pressing the twelve button.

He didn't reply, instead looking straight ahead with intense and focused eyes. Creepy. His makeup was odd. A stark white and sharp red and purple designs around the eyes and mouth. Pointed angles and sharp contrasts, not at all the soft and fuzzy look she was more accustomed to seeing in a child's entertainer. She cleared her throat, taking a step back and leaning back against the wall and railing. The lights flickered again.

There was a jolt. And she felt herself fall forward, hands catching her fall on the tiled surface of the floor. A tiny yelp from her throat. She pulled herself up unsteadily, her eyes searching around frantically. The lights turned on and off crazily, engulfing them in dark then light then dark then light again. The yellow on the man's face was not flattering with his make-up job. The shadows they cast on his face made his features look contorted and demonic, as if he were a wild beast baring fangs through narrow slits of animal-like eyes. He turned to look at her and she jumped back, unable to help herself. The elevator went silent. The sound of fans and gears all completely stopped, the light had turned off completely, and had been replaced with a hazy red emergency light.

They were stuck weren't they. The elevator had stopped completely. "Shame, huh," came a male's voice. Low and raspy. It terrified her. The clown was talking to her.

She nodded quickly. She squeaked, "yeah. What do you think we should do?"

He shrugged his shoulders, looking down at her shrunken form, bathed in blood red lighting. His eyes reflected the crimson color and she had to squeeze her own shut to keep from seeing them. Her entire body was shaking, alone and trapped with a man she didn't know, dressed like a psychotic killer with red eyes and fangs bared. She was terrified. She was terrified and she couldn't help it. He leaned down, the giant creature had have been seven feet tall, with clashing colored clothes that looked as though they had once been bright and vibrant, but had dulled due to age and washing. He reached a large palm over to her, and she watched it as though it were coming in slow motion, a bear's paw coming toward her. She whimpered, shrinking down even smaller.

"We're stuck in here. Come get us out."

She froze, her eyes moving cautiously to the hand that had moved past her shoulder. It pressed the red emergency button, activating a sort of intercom. The relief she felt was embarrassingly obvious. She was being cruel and paranoid, but surely under the circumstances he could understand.

"I was going to make a killing today," he commented. "I'm late."

"A killing?"

"Big gig. Kid's birthday party. They'll cut my pay if I don't show up soon."

"Oh." She didn't know what else to say. She didn't want to make conversation. She didn't want to be polite. She just didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be here with this... with this terrifying man.

"I hate kids."

Then he should get a new job. "Oh." She couldn't think. She wanted to get out. She wanted to get out. Where were the hotel workers. They should get to them faster. Why were they taking so long.

"I feel like strangling them, they get so bad."

She didn't care. Good god, she didn't care. She wanted out. She wanted out. Her meeting. She was late too. Her important meeting with her boss. She was supposed to get a raise. She wanted out. The red light. Blood light. Soaking them through with blood light. They'd be dripping wet by the time they were out. It would soak them to the bone.

He reached into his pocket, "sometimes when I get real mad, so mad at them I can't take it anymore, I take this out and use it on them." The slender object was pulled out carefully from his pocket, gleaming and shining under the blood light. Sharp too? Is that what it was? Something sharp? A knife! The bastard! She wanted to laugh out loud hysterically she was so scared. A knife he used on the bad kids that made him mad. The object became fully visible and he put it to his lips, blowing gently on it, and a airy tune came to life, a low sad song. "See, I'm a musician too."

Just a flute? She did laugh, a little spurt of a laugh. She was being ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. It was good to laugh at herself for it. She edged a little further away from his large form, feeling entirely too close to him. The elevator was broken after all. It had gotten smaller when it broke. Broken things, they shrink sometimes. The walls were too close together because of it. And together and closer, like magnets of opposite charges, they'd pull toward one another, oblivious to her suffering till the second the hotel workers finally pried the doors open and got her out.

"You ever kill anyone before?"

"Excuse me?" Her voice caught in her throat. His sharp face of distorted nose and mouth and pointy things came closer to her own.

"I asked if you ever entertained anyone before. For whatever reason."

Was that really it? What he had really asked? Could she have been hearing things. "N... no, I don't do that sort of thing," she stammered. "I... I'm in business."

"How would you like if I cut your throat?"

She cried out, "Wh... what?"

"I said you guys are real cut-throat. Business can get real tough."

"Oh... oh... Um... yeah. It's definitely competitive."

"I'll rip you into shreds." He smiled.

She whispered, "S...sir... I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"I said I'll rip you into shreds." The smile didn't leave his face. He took a step closer to her.

The doors opened. Two men looked down on them from above, leaning their hands down and grabbing hold of her wrists pulling her up onto the floor. She glanced back down as they did, watching as the horrible clown below looked up at her, his eyes unwavering and bathed in blood light. He reached up a hand, a single white string pinched between two fingers, and he held out a balloon to her. She crawled the rest of the way onto the floor before breaking into a fit of sobs and pointing down to the elevator, and telling them about how he had threatened her.

They looked confused, and one man stated quite firmly. "Miss. You were alone in that elevator. I have no idea what you're talking about."