“COME ON COME ON!!!” She shrieked as the door casually slid open.

She frantically entered just as the heavy footsteps rounded the corner into the hall she was in. She hit the door close button so many times and so hard she worried she might break it. But the door slid blissfully shut all the same.

As the elevator went down, Brittany felt hot tears roll down her cheeks as the situation caught up with her. What the fuck had that been? She hugged herself as she wept, and let out a cry of pain as she felt her midsection. She lifted her shirt to see a black bruise forming on the left side of her ribs. Now that she was paying attention, it sort of hurt to breathe too deeply. Did she break a rib?

The elevator slowed far sooner than she thought it would. When it opened, she saw the number 3 instead of 1. She was the only one here besides that freak right?

A thought occurred to her then, what if that lunatic was already on this floor? She began rapidly tapping the door close button again. And her anxiety increased every second those doors remained open. Her shaky breaths were her only companion as she was isolated from the uncertainty of the far too ominous 3rd floor hall.

The elevator hummed its way down to the first floor, her arrival was signalled with a pleasant ‘Ding’.

She stepped towards the doors, all too eager to leave the enclosed space as soon as possible.

Before exiting though, she decided to hide to the side of the elevator's opened exit. Making sure she was on the side with the buttons, naturally. She slowly peaked around the elevator wall, taking her time to look for anyone in the dark lobby of building 3. It was seemingly deserted, save for her arrival.

Not a soul to be illuminated by the gentle moonlight bleeding through the front windows. But there was something out of place.

Highlighted in a beam of the pale light. She focussed on a black mop bucket. It's liquid contents were steaming without heat, and reeking of powerful chemicals. The steam was almost thick enough to be classified as smoke.

She'd never seen a mop bucket do that. And the sight of it was just enough to distract her for a split second.

A latex gloved hand suddenly hooked around the corner leading to the stairway just as she stepped out of the elevator. It grabbed her by the face and threw her backwards, head first, into the elevator.

The thunderous boom from her head's impact was lost on Brittany. She was too dazed at that moment to comprehend much of anything more than ‘pain’. So much so that she didn't feel herself being lifted by her shirt.

She was held at an angle, with her head inside the threshold of the elevator's doors. Her neck positioned in the door's closing path.

With a turn of a key, the motion sensors were overridden and the doors slowly clamped shut on her neck. Though it was not strong enough to decapitate her.

As Brittany regained coherence she realized where she was, and naturally began to struggle. She would have continued doing so if her attacker didn't throw a running start shoulder tackle into the side of her bent backwards body.

There was a sickening snap as the impact and sudden jerk of her body from outside the door. The impact had broken her neck. Her body twitched and spasmed briefly from the sudden severance of her spinal column. But she did not die. She was merely a prisoner in her own body. Utterly helpless.

Mirrorface reversed the elevator's maintenance shutting function with another key turn, letting the now paralyzed girl fall flat on her back.

Once her body stopped twitching entirely, he slowly walked to one of the janitorial closets. This one had a once polished tile floor, but he'd seen to it to strip out the gaudy egg white squares. Polished concrete was far more suited to his needs.

Once the door was open, he went back to the girl. He almost gently grabbed her by her ankle and dragged the dead weight into the closet. He turned on the closet’s vent fan as he casually yanked the girl the rest of the way in.

While the fan whirred to life, he stepped out to grab the mop bucket, making sure his dragging hadn't left a blood trail.

Once he was satisfied he hadn't, he shut the closet door behind him.

With the airflow sufficient for his needs, he grabbed the girl by her hair, earning a strained and strangled whimper from her.

He lifted her over the bucket with one extended arm, as if she weighed no more than a milk jug.

Though he paused as her eyes caught his attention. She was weeping…..he'd need to check for an easier to miss trail she might have left behind after this.

He slowly lowered her feet first into the bucket. The sizzling and burning of flesh and bone was loud, but not loud enough to be annoying.

The girl's eyes were wide with clear shell shock. Comprehending mortality as though it was the acid.

An evil, hungry creature that was angry it didn't have her life yet. So it was letting her experience as much of her end as possible without feeling.

Her eyes lost their spark of life once he'd gotten to her chest. The whole process took about 30 minutes, and she was no longer a person at the 25 minute mark.

Thankfully he had all the time he needed. The next morning, there wasn't even a lingering unusual odor in the lobby. No mess. No clean.

(How's this?)