Portals to another world

I spent far too much time last night reading about "the elevator ritual", which I heard about through YouTube apparently thinking I wanted to watch a video about a mysterious disappearance. Sometimes I wonder about the suggestions, but then, with my weird taste and the auto-play feature, who knows? I've ended up on some bizarre videos (I often leave it running while I draw or clean or play solitaire - yeah, guess which of those happens most often?).

Anyway, like most of the made-up "rituals" you find places like creepypasta, it's entirely too long and convoluted. And, being that it involves an elevator of more that ten stores (which would have to be a cable elevator, not hydraulic) *and* you have to be alone the whole time (I am too old to stay up until 2am to try to find a deserted elevator), there's really no way I'll ever try it. I don't believe elevators are portals to another dimension, but they are evil death-boxes.

I could go on about how at least one of the instructions cannot work (you push another floor button to "cancel" the previously pushed on in the return instructions, but... elevators don't work that way) except, well, portal to another dimension so all bets are off.

I *really* wish I lived in an area where a lot of people did this, I'd love to get a group of people together to wait for people to try (sadly, since I don't ride elevators, I couldn't dress up as the creepy girl, but I *could* be the one on the tenth floor that turned out the lights and whatnot). Eh, maybe that would be too cruel, I dunno.

It's not the longest one, though... In reading about it, and with my dislike of elevators, one titled "the staircase ritual" caught my eye. But seriously? Not only multiple days, but twelve hours standing on your staircase?! I think the people who make these up need to scale it back a bit. Sometimes less is more.

Though, admittedly, things are more detailed than the good old "Bloody Mary" days (people always dared me to do that one as a kid, and I did, sooooo many times. Not do much brave as logical and cynical, even back then).

From the other side: the elevator ritual

"Have a good night," James says as I step off the elevator at the fifth floor. Good night, my ass. Probably another long, boring night of starting at the walls. Boredom really will get to you after awhile, make you see and hear things. And, yes, I realize that a ghost seeing and hearing things is a completely odd twist of fate, unless, perhaps, there's another world beyond this one? Can ghosts be haunted by... super-ghosts?

After I first died (very boring, pathetic story, don't even ask, I've started making up tales of shark attacks and serial killers because I can't handle the pity in everyone's eyes when I tell the truth) I thought that, well, that's it, at least something will change. But here's the kicker. It didn't. I still live in a crummy studio apartment in a bad part of town and work a crappy shift in a crappy job. Sure, there are chances for advancement, but that's going to take forever, and for now I'm stuck standing on this fifth floor hallway, night after night, waiting for kids to try out some stupid elevator game ritual.

For awhile, traffic was good, and I was getting someone every few nights. But interest has slowed down, as internet memes are, by nature, transitory. I hear they are already re-asigning some of others, but as it happens I "lucked out" and ended up in one of the more popular buildings, so my traffic hasn't completely disappeared. I think it has more to do with accessibility and low traffic, not so much any particularly creepy vibe to the place. The carpet is downright colorful and cheerful. I don't envy James's job in spookifying the 10th floor between their first and second visit. You'd think, being "supernatural" beings and all, we'd have super powers, but no. It's all pretty much garden variety illusion, smoke and mirrors. And it's a lot of work, thank you very much.

My best chance of a good new assignment is to make up a ritual of my own that takes off, but so far, no dice. It's an odd balance of complexity, weirdness, and payoff/risk that I just can't seem to nail down. And I don't mean to whinge, it's not all bad, and there are definitely worse afterlife jobs, but, man, this hallway is getting to me.

Oh, look, the elevator is moving. Looks like we have a customer tonight! The elevator readout goes through the familiar cycle of numbers, and as it reaches the fifth floor, I ready myself. Not too close to the door, but not too far away. The doors slide open, and I start to glide forward, but the voice inside the elevator stops me cold. They're not supposed to talk to me, my brain screams, trying to cover up the horror of what I heard.

"Hello, Candice, I've been looking for you," the man in the elevator says, and grins an evil grin.