Yellow Jack (Demencia y el Abismo -3-)

“El Ascensor”

Esta es una historia real, me sucedió en un tiempo en el que trabajaba para una aseguradora ubicada en el noveno piso de un edificio de oficinas en la ciudad de México. El lugar tenía varios pisos activos, algunos en renovación y otros que se encontraban en renta o venta y aún permanecían desocupados. El noveno piso, que era donde yo trabajaba, se encontraba entre una serie de pisos desocupados y que estaban teniendo reparaciones, no habiendo más que tráfico de albañiles y contratistas entre el octavo y el décimo quinto piso. Como es costumbre en México, los edificios no cuentan con piso número trece. En el edificio siempre existieron rumores de cosas extrañas sucediendo, cuestión que yo no solía tomarme en serio dada la naturaleza pragmática de mi profesión, aunque procuraba siempre mantener una mente abierta a cualquier fenómeno sin descartar que cualquier posibilidad fuese plausible. No soy un hombre que procure abordar las explicaciones sobrenaturales como las primeras opciones de algo que puede fundamentarse con la razón y una lógica basada en la ciencia, sin embargo, siempre he sido consiente que las cosas que antes eran consideradas paranormales han encontrado poco a poco explicaciones racionales cuando la ciencia se ha aventurado a observarles, y aún quedan muchas cosas por explicar en esos límites.

Era tarde, quizá demasiado tarde para a penas salir del trabajo. Al tomar el elevador desde el noveno piso del edificio, encontrándome ya dispuesto a regresar a casa para descansar, pulse el botón para que el elevador descendiese  hacia la planta baja. Sin embargo, al momento en el que normalmente esperaría que el elevador cerrase su puerta, iluminando el botón presionado por los usuarios, pareció haber una falla de energía, por lo que las luces del elevador parpadearon momentáneamente. Aun así las puertas del elevador cerraron de forma aparentemente normal y antes de avanzar, el cubo dio un pequeño salto, que por su carácter repentino, hizo que me sujetase de las paredes con ambas manos.

Algo parecía no andar del todo bien… en lugar de descender hacia la planta baja el elevador comenzó a ascender con un sonido trabajoso, como si estuviese reptando hacia arriba por paredes cubiertas con papel para lijar. Observe el panel de pisos, pero el botón de la planta baja no estaba encendido. Racionalizando la situación, sabiendo que eran las once y media de la noche y sabiendo que generalmente el edificio estaba desocupado rumbo a las ocho de la noche, pensé para mí mismo: “seguramente alguien ha llamado al ascensor al momento de la falla de luz, alguien que estaba superado en su volumen de trabajo, como yo, persona que ahora compartiría conmigo el camino hacia la salida”. 

Observando el contador de pisos del ascensor, esperaba que este subiese hacia el décimo quinto o décimo sexto piso, notaba como este iba subiendo demasiado lentamente, aun con el trabajoso sonido que antes he descrito, sintiéndome intranquilo al asociarlo a una probable falla mecánica. “debo reportar esto al guardia nocturno inmediatamente me baje de este pinche cachivache.” Pensé para mis adentros. Trabajosamente el contador cambiaba entre el onceavo y doceavo piso pareciendo enlentecerse a cada segundo, y al difuminarse el número doce del contador para llegar al piso décimo cuarto, la luz del elevador volvió a fallar, dando otro salto el elevador mientras producía un sonido metálico. El sobresalto me llevo a quedar semi sentado mientras nuevamente me sujetaba con los brazos extendidos contra la esquina del elevador, sujetando las paredes en escuadra. La luz volvió a encenderse permaneciendo sin embargo en un amarillo tenue que daba un aspecto sombrío al pequeño cubo, mismo que, de forma completamente nueva para mi, me mostraba la sensación de lo que es la claustrofobia mientras mi respiración se agitaba. El contador de pisos se mantenía apagado casi por completo mostrando la mitad de un uno en la cifra izquierda y la parte superior del dos en la cifra derecha. El elevador se encontraba completamente detenido. Al notar que esto se mantenía con un silencio y una tensión sofocante, únicamente interrumpido por mi ahora acelerada respiración, me acerque al panel de control y empece primeo a digitar el botón de la planta baja, logrando que iluminase únicamente mientras lo presionaba. Al notar que no había ningún resultado y rápidamente desesperándome comencé a apretar otros botones al azar, cualquiera inicialmente, luego el piso de mi oficina, el doceavo, el decimo cuarto, el vigésimo quinto y último piso, ninguna respuesta. Presione frenéticamente el botón de alarma, escuchando el timbre del ascensor con cada digitación. “Al menos este botón funciona…” pensé con un muy ligero alivio a mi actual situación de pánico, misma que fue interrumpida cuando de la bocina del panel empecé a escuchar una voz ininteligible que murmuraba en una cacofonía gutural y autómata en algo que no tenía semejanza con ningún idioma que yo conociera. Bajo la misma desesperación y pánico renovado presione el botón de abrir en el panel del ascensor, al hacer esto, las puertas abrieron lentamente con un agudo rechinido metálico.

Frente a mí se observaba, únicamente iluminado  por la tenue luz del cubo del ascensor, un piso desértico, con manchas de suciedad y papeles por todo el suelo, frente a mí un escritorio viejo con manchas negras, como si hubiera sido salpicado con algo. Por un segundo pensé en salir corriendo hacia las escaleras de servicio, sin embargo, petrificado por el miedo, pues, en mi curiosidad conocía los siguientes pisos al mío y este no lucía como ninguno de los pisos que hubiera visto antes, permanecí en mi lugar pulsando desesperadamente el botón de la planta baja esperando obtener una reacción. Sentí como el color abandonaba mi piel cuando a lo lejos me parecía escuchar un alarido apagado, tras lo que comencé a pulsar el botón de cerrar desesperadamente. Un segundo después sentí una corriente helada desde el interior del piso hacia el ascensor. Una vez que hubo pasado esa corriente las puertas comenzaron a cerrarse con el mismo rechinido molesto, el miedo estaba a punto de conseguir lo peor de mí y sentía como mis esfínteres podrían ceder en cualquier momento.

El ascensor volvió a saltar de súbito. En ese momento se normalizaron las luces y comenzó a descender el ascensor con su sonido habitual. El botón de planta baja se observaba encendido ahora. Al notar esto, un suspiro de alivio se escapó de mi cuerpo. Sin embargo al terminar de suspirar note que había otra respiración a parte de la mía. Helado, evité voltear a ver lo que sea que emitiese esa respiración manteniendo la mirada sobre el panel del ascensor. Al hacer esto note como, de repente, se ilumino el botón del sexto piso. El ascensor continúo descendiendo de forma normal hasta el sexto piso, durante todo ese tiempo, que parecían horas seguí escuchando esa respiración diferente a la mía tras mi hombro izquierdo. Yo contenía la respiración logrando únicamente que el tiempo pareciera aún más prolongado. Al abrirse las puertas en el sexto piso, estas no emitieron ningún sonido a parte de su mecanismo usual. Nuevamente sentí la corriente de aire, o bien me pareció imaginarla, a la fecha no podría decirlo, sin embargo me pareció percibirla como saliendo del ascensor. Se cerraron nuevamente las puertas, permitiendo al ascensor descender de forma normal hasta la planta baja.

Al llegar a la planta baja corrí en dirección a donde se encontraba el guardia de seguridad, y le comente todo lo sucedido, preguntándole frenéticamente si había escuchado la alarma que había pulsado tantas veces presa del pánico y si el habría intentado hablar conmigo a través del intercomunicador del panel del ascensor. El guardia negó rotundamente que algo así hubiera ocurrido, sin embargo me advirtió que procurase no tomar ese ascensor en específico, si volvía a quedarme solo, pues precisamente, un albañil que trabajaba en las reparaciones del sexto piso, había muerto el año pasado al caer por el cubo de ese ascensor y esta no era la primera vez que alguien le comentaba de sucesos raros. Jamás volví a quedarme tarde en ese trabajo, mismo que deje un par de meses después por una mejor oferta de trabajo.  

Enero 31, 2017

 Dr. Schwarts Ripstein Aïken

“The Elevator”

This is a true story, it happened to me in a time in which I worked for an insurance company which can be found on the ninth floor of an office building on one of the nicer parts of Mexico City. The building had several offices which were functional, though it had also some empty levels, some of which were going through reparations or renewing, and some of the levels were just empty. The ninth floor where I worked, was found between a series of empty floors which were vacant to be owned and exploited, or well under construction for new offices, so it was usual to see construction workers or contractors going to any floor between the 8^th and the 15^th floor. As it is usual in Mexico City, because of superstitions, buildings don’t usually have a 13^th floor. I knew before my experience that in the building there were rumors which told about strange things happening, such as the elevator suddenly moving without anyone calling for it or lights which would turn on and off, but I discarded such rumors not taking them seriously because of the pragmatic point of view of my profession, even though I have always thought to keep my mind open, always considering that anything could be possible, given the correct circumstances. Regardless, I am not a person who would rely on almost any case upon any supernatural explanation without first considering any logical factor. This way has science evolved, hasn’t it? As what previously is considered impossible is achieved or what was unexplainable gets a rational explanation, so has science evolved, explaining what is considered legend or myth as well as attaining what once seemed unimaginable. And I am aware there is still so much to discover, invent, and uncover.      

Returning to the story, it was late at night, perhaps way too late to be just leaving work, when I was ready to leave, taking the elevator from the ninth floor, ready to go back home to rest whatever little time was left of the night to repeat my daily routine on the day after. As I boarded the elevator I pressed the button of the first floor to leave towards my house. At that moment I would normally expect for the elevators door to close while taking all of its passengers (in this case me) towards the corresponding destination, while the buttons pressed by the elevator users would be lit until reaching the signaled destination. That day, as this was happening, there was some electricity problem through which the lights flickered momentarily. The elevator doors proceeded to close as they would normally, and, before the elevator started to move, the box of the elevator gave a little jump upwards, which, because of how sudden It was, and how it caught me off guard, it made me hold me back to the elevators walls with both hands.

Something seemed not to go completely well with the elevator… instead of descending towards the lower levels, the elevator was ascending while producing a sound, as if the elevator’s metal pieces were struggling with the elevator’s rails on a forceful march, as if it were forcefully climbing through sanding paper. As I observed the button panel, the first floor’s button was not lightened. Rationalizing, knowing It was eleven and a half and knowing that nearly the entirety of the building’s workers  would have gone away by eight at night, I thought to myself “surely someone called the elevator when the lights failed momentarily, someone who is working late, as I am. Someone who would be sharing the elevator with me”.

As I observed the floor display over the doors, knowing the elevator would take me somewhere between the fifteenth and the sixteenth floor, I noticed how the elevator was ascending much slower, even considering the forceful march which I already described. I started to feel anxious as I started to associate the sound to a possible mechanical malfunction. “I must report this to the night guard as fast as I get down from this bloody scrap” I thought to myself.  With much struggle I saw how the display changed from the eleventh floor to the twelfth and the elevator seemed to even go slower. As the display was about to change from the twelfth floor to the fourteenth floor, the elevator’s light flickered once again as the elevator jumped on a more violent way while producing a metallic sound as it stopped moving. The surprise to this made me crouch with my back against the corner of the elevator while pressing my hands on each of the walls, the elevator was completely dark. The light came back with a dim yellowish hue which gave a somber aspect to the little cube in which I was trapped, showing me what claustrophobia really means, a sensation which was completely new to me, as my breathing got faster along with the thumping o my heart. The elevator’s display was stuck not entirely light, as if broken, showing only the bottom half from the one on the left and the upper half of the number two on the right. The elevator remained at a complete stop. As this happened the tension and the silence within the elevator was suffocating, silence which was only interrupted by my accelerated breathing. I got near the button panel and started to press the button of the first floor, which would only remain lit whenever I pressed. As I noticed there was no result to my futile attempts, and getting desperate really fast, I proceeded to press other buttons at random, at the beginning trying just about any floor, but afterwards trying constantly to hit the ninth, the first, the twentieth, the fourth floor where I had some friends during the work hours… but none of the buttons seemed to respond. Once I saw this I frantically started hitting the alarm button which was placed below a speaker, with every time I punched the button I could hear the elevator’s alarm working just fine. “At least that button still works,“ I though with a minimal sense of relief to my current panic situation, which was interrupted when the speaker over the button started to produce a mechanical cacophonic and guttural voice which started reciting words in a language which was not familiar to any language I knew or had ever heard. Under the same desperation and the renewed sensation of dread I pressed the “open door” button on the button panel, and as I did this, the elevator doors started to open really slowly with a metallic screeching sound.   

In front of me I could only see, as I was only illuminated by the dim yellow light from inside the elevator’s cube, a deserted messy flight which was covered with black stains and papers scattered all around, in front of me there was an old desk which was completely covered with the same sort of black stains, as if something had splattered a black liquid over it. I had the sudden urge to run from the elevator into the emergency stairs, nevertheless I was petrified from fear, because, due to my curiosity, I knew the floors next to mine and this looked like none of the floors which I had previously explored. I remained on the elevator, unsure of how to act, and I continued hitting the first floor button on the button panel wishing the elevator would react somehow. I felt how the color was drained from my face as I suddenly heard a muffled scream inside the flight, after which I started slamming the “close door” button. I felt a chilling as if a wind currents blew into the elevator from inside the unknown floor. Once that feeling stopped the elevator doors started to close with the same metallic screeching sound, which was puncturing on the residual courage which was left in me as I felt that the situation was about to get the worst out of my nerves, as I was struggling not to relieve my bowels out of fear.

The elevator bumped once more, making the lights flicker once again returning to normal. The button from the first floor was suddenly lit. As I notice this I left a fluttering sight of relief. Regardless as I stopped sighting I noticed heavy breathing behind my left shoulder. I froze on the spot, avoiding to turn to see whatever would be producing such breathing, holding my sight over the button panel to avoid looking over my shoulder. I noticed then how the sixth floor button had lit all of a sudden. The elevator continued descending on a normal fashion to the sixth floor, during all this time, which seemed like hours, I continued listening to the breathing behind my shoulder. During all this time I was holding my own breathing, action which made the time seem to pass even slower. As the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor, the sound they produced seemed just the ordinary sound from the elevators usual mechanism. Once again I felt the chilling wind current, or so I may have imagined, to the present day I am not truly sure, nevertheless I noticed how it left the elevator when its doors opened. After this the doors closed normally and the elevator resumed its decent to the first floor.

When I arrived to the first floor I went running towards the security guard’s post, and reported as fast as I could what happened, asking franticly if he had heard the elevator’s alarm which I pressed several times out of fear, and if he had spoken through the elevators speaker. The guard refused profusely to have heard any alarm, nor answer any technical call, still he warned me never to take that same elevator if I was ever to remain until late in the office again, because last year a construction worker, who was working on the sixth floor, had died as he fell on the empty elevator shaft, thinking the elevator had arrived. Ever since that day, the guard has heard stories of weird events such as mine. I never stayed until late again on that particular work, which I quitted a couple of months later, luckily finding a better job offer.

January 31, 2017

Dr. Schwarts Ripstein Aïken