My Landlord Warned Me Never To Press the 7th floor Button. I Should Have Listened.

My new apartment felt safe until my neighbor asked me if I’d ever been to the 7th floor.

“Okay, so the locks have been changed. This one is from the front door, and this one is from the apartment door.”

“Thank you.”

Denis turned around and began walking down the hall.

I was about to close the door when he burst back in.

“Also, one last thing. The 7th floor is closed up. You can’t get there by stairs, but the floor is still on the elevator. The elevator shouldn’t go there, but don’t press it.” He walked away.

My neighbour John came over that day with a box of chocolates and a warm introduction. He invited me over for some tea. 

“Are you married?” He asked.

“No, not anymore.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

John tightened his lips and nodded. His beautiful small dog then came into the room. He quickly shifted the conversation to him.

We continued talking for another 15 minutes, then John excused himself. 

Over the next few weeks, I saw him almost every day after work, coming into the building with his dog. We would chat on the elevator, and on some days, he would invite me to his apartment.

I had grown a fondness for John. Being away from my family and friends was unpleasant, but his presence and the conversations we had made it easier. His personality was warm and kind, and he made me feel safe. Plus, I loved his little cute dog.

One day, I was back on my way from work. I saw him coming into the building, but he didn’t have his dog today. He waved at me and held the door as I came in.

That night, I didn’t sleep too well.

As always, John could tell something was wrong.

“Still thinking of Jenny, huh?”

“How do you know her name?”

“You told me before.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Well, I got something to cheer you up.”

“Have you been to the 7th floor before?” he said as we got on the elevator.

“No, Denis said it’s blocked off.”

“Yes, for tenants, but not for apartment owners. I have some stuff stored up there. You wanna take a look?”

“Sure.”

John pressed the button. The elevator rattled and began going up.

First, second, third floor.

“Our floor,” John said jokingly and winked.

Six, seventh floor.

The elevator stopped.

A ding.

The door didn’t open.

I stared at the door, not blinking, waiting.

Nothing.

A chill ran down my spine.

“Um….John?”

He was looking at the door with contempt.

His eyes were glowing red.

Then the elevator started shaking violently.

Blood froze in my veins.

I had to grab onto the bar.

“Jesus.”

John stood still.

Then the shaking stopped.

The door opened.

A dark, cold, and empty hallway.

“Come on,” John said and waved his hand.

His eyes were normal again.

“What was that, John?”

“No one really goes up here; it makes it rattle a little.”

“A little?”

“Everything okay?”

He put his hand on my shoulder.

I let out a loud sigh.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he said and smiled.

John then walked over to the wall and pressed the switch.

It flickered in a dim yellow light.

The walls were grey with large pieces of plaster peeling off.

A moldy, damp odor reeked.

The hall went on and then split in two directions at the wall.

The sound of John’s steps echoed weirdly, almost as if they were coming from behind me.

“To the left.”

John walked swiftly, faster than I had ever seen him before.

The hallway would turn corners, but it looked the same.

No old doors, no storage units.

It gave me goosebumps.

I kept looking back behind us.

“John, where are the storage units?”

“Wait.”

Another turn.

A hall much longer than the others.

Rooms with steel bars.

“Here,” he had a strange, cunning smile. 

The storage units were mostly filled with Christmas lights, old clothes, old toys, and random boxes.

Then a mostly empty one.

Except for a car seat, half burned and scraped.

In another, there was a children’s car seat.

John was at his storage unit looking through his pockets.

When he saw me come over, his face twisted in an unnatural, wide grin.

My heart dropped when I walked closer to him.

In the unit was a half-broken car.

“You recognize this?” His voice was crackling and deep.

“What…How did you get?”

He was now standing next to it, smiling.

“You know what this is, don’t you?”

“What’s happening, John?”

“You tell me. Why did you lie to the police? Why did you say you didn’t drink that night?”

The car started burning. The smell of burned fuel filled the room.

I jumped back and tried to get away, but the hall to the left was only a wall.

“What about your wife and daughter?” John’s eyes turned dark red, and his face went black.

The car rattled.

Two people now sat in it. 

A woman in the front seat. 

A small child in the back.

It was my wife and daughter.

They were screaming, crying, banging on the seat and windows.

“No, no, no.”

My body slowly slid to the ground, and tears began pouring out of my eyes.

I lay on the floor curled up in a ball.

Darkness flashed in front of my eyes.

I was in the car now.

The heat slowly surged to a painstaking burn.

The extreme heat was unbearable.

Soon, smoke filled my lungs.

I started coughing and choking.

My lungs felt like two heavy bags.

I banged on the windows, trying to get out.

The screams of my wife and daughter.

So loud I could feel my eardrum burst.

A ding.

I quickly shuffled around, feeling my body.

No more burning.

I was inside the elevator again, lying on the ground.

The floor felt cold on my skin.

No one around.

Outside the door was the hall to my apartment.

I slowly got up and stumbled to the door.

Not knowing what to make of what happened.

I tried to knock on John’s door, but no answer.

The next day, I called my landlord.

Apparently, that apartment has been vacant for a while.

A man used to live there.

He died in a fatal car crash, in which a mother and a daughter also passed away.

The father made it out alive.

This will be my last post on Reddit for a while.

Tomorrow I’m gonna go to the police and tell them what actually caused the crash that killed my wife, daughter, and John.

I survived the fire once, but I won’t survive it again if I keep lying.