It was past midnight when Riya returned home after her night shift. She lived on the 13th floor of an old apartment building. The lift creaked as it opened, dimly lit and eerily silent. Still, she stepped in, too tired to climb the stairs.
She pressed the button for the 13th floor, but the lift unexpectedly stopped at the 6th. The doors slid open, and a strange woman entered — pale face, messy long hair covering her eyes, barefoot, and wearing an old torn saree. She didn’t press any button.
Riya felt a chill crawl up her spine.
“Which floor?” Riya asked politely. The woman slowly turned her head, smiled eerily, and whispered, “I’ve been waiting… for someone like you.”
Suddenly, the lights flickered and went out. The lift jolted and stopped. Riya’s screams echoed inside the metal box. In the dark, she felt nails scratching her skin and heard a low, growling laugh.
When the lights came back, Riya was alone. The CCTV footage showed her entering the lift — but no one else.
Since that night, no one uses the lift after midnight. They say… the witch still rides it, waiting for her
next victim.
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