Repugnant

Desperate times call for desperate measures… I have no choice, I'll have to go to try my luck with the police.

This was truly a new low for Randolph, crossing a line he had refused to for his entire life. This was truly a last resort among last resorts, but he had no choice. The pressure of the loan sharks was like a giant hand overhead, holding his head down. He couldn't even imagine what they would do to him if his debt wasn't paid by the time the deadline was up.

Looking at the digital clock on the small radio, it was still pretty early.

Whatever, guess I'll wait another few minutes. Better to leave later, those assholes won't look for me when everyone else is out and about in the morning buzz.

Although they had given him two weeks, he'd be a fool to trust them. It was especially so considering what he did to their goons.

Leaning back onto his mattress, Randolph let out a sigh of relief. He would take the opportunity to rest his weary bones.

Reaching out arm, he turned the dial to the radio at this side. Switching it to the local news channel, he then began looking out the window in thought.

--was massive, with a reported 4 dead and over a dozen wounded. The investigations aren't complete yet, but the estimated numbers aren't promising. The Ottawa is now in a state of panic, as the capital--

A female news caster was in the middle of reporting a case when he switched over. Judging by the sounds of things, it was a rather large case.

--Our of the few who have made it out of the center of the explosion, they have all shared a few strange symptoms of what appears to be amnesia. They are all dazed and incapable of coherent speech. The paramedics on the scene have taken the matter into their own hands, transporting the citizens to urgent care almost immediately--

--That's truly interesting, Amanda. From the reports I have here in the office, the explosion was isolated to the sole shopping department, strangely enough. The police have sent out a statement a few hours stating the source to be of faulty gas leak--

A male voice continued after the woman finished speaking, likely another news caster or reporter.

--All related families are being compensated thoroughly by the government, though such compensation can't speak much to their loss. Many of the victims' families question the authenticity of what had happened, but the police are unable to mobilize too much manpower for the case despite it being a large one--

--It's Mr. Ford's case, right? Or the other murders in the city?--

--It's both. The timing of the incident coincides almost exactly with political social equity party leader, Robertson Ford's, death. Many conspiracy theorists online have linked the two cases together, but the authorities have remained silent. Police Deputy Chief Hars Moore has come out with a statement…--

As the newscaster droned on, Randolph slowly lost his interest. Such incidents sounded very grand, but as someone at the bottom rungs of society, they had essentially nothing to do with him until they began affecting him.

Well, enough rest is enough. 

Shooting another glance towards the digital clock, he pushed himself up off the floor.

A patch of dirt and grime was left on the floor behind him, but he didn't have the luxury to worry about it right now, deciding to clean it up later.

Acting quickly but gingerly, the young man stripped himself off before wiping his body down with a spare shirt he had wet with his bottled drinking water. Afterwards, he changed into one of the good sets of clothing he had, in an attempt to get rid of the smell and make himself at least somewhat presentable.

Unconsciously heaving another sigh to himself, Randolph exited his apartment in low spirits. The door slammed shut on its hinges as it closed behind him.

Stepping over the pile of notices at the side, he walked to the elevator in the corridor, pressing the button. The smell of weed and smoke in the hallway had cleared somewhat, along with the sound of construction, providing the young man with a bit of room to breath.

A few lightbulbs hung from the hallway's ceiling, suspended from a few electrical cords. A few of them had long burnt out, and the rest were dim due to old age. But even in the dim yellow light he could see the mysterious stains on the wall, making him unwilling to lean against it.

It was only after about 15 seconds of waiting for the elevator did he slowly realize that something was amiss.

Usually after exiting his apartment, or upon the elevator's call, at least one dog would begin barking like mad. The barking dog would elicit reactions from other dogs, just like earlier, but strangely enough, there wasn't a single sound.

Tilting his head, Randolph listened for any noise. But it was of no use. It was quiet to the point that one could hear their own breathing in the corridor.

Randolph found it incredibly strange. Even if one dog had been taken out on a walk, there would be at least two more there. It was very unlikely for all three to have been taken out at the same time, or at least it had never happened before. It wasn't to mention that just half an hour earlier, the dogs had been barking as they usually did.

But it wasn't a big deal. There was a first time for everything, so he didn't figure that there was a need to worry.

A slow ding sounded out through the corridor as the elevator arrived at the tenth floor, its door slowly unravelling open. The elevator was a small box in shape, around 1.5 meters wide and 2 meters in depth. The floor was carpeted, and there were three large mirrors on each side of the elevator aside from its front.

Entering the elevator, one other person one it, a man by the looks of it. He was leaning on the far end of the elevator, his head down and face invisible as he had a large brown hat on.

"..." Not bothering to greet the man, Randolph entered the elevator before tapping the first floor button.

"…" The man remained silent as well. It was a strange silence though, as if he didn't even acknowledge Randolph's presence as compared to just not saying anything.

Taking a position at the opposite end of the man, he waited silently. But almost immediately after entering the elevator, an absolutely revolting smell attacked his nose. The smell was not just bad, it was putrid and disgusting. It made the young man feel like vomiting, and he almost couldn't hold himself back from retching. He didn't know how the smell had been contained within the small elevator, but it only seemed to ferment it.

Holding his sleeve to his nose in a faux cough, Randolph wrinkled his nose and brows in disgust.

The silence continued as the elevator slowly made its way down the floors. Randolph, astounded as to what could cause such a scent, began inspecting the man in front of him.

The man seemed to be middle-aged, but Randolph couldn't exactly tell. He wore a large brown trench coat along with a large brown hat that hid the upper half of his face. But even that hat couldn't hide his dark purple hair, spiky and abundant. It stuck out from the back of his head, poking into the mirror behind him. Such a manner of dress was incredibly strange, especially in this part of the city.

From the bottom of his face, peeking out from the hat, the young man could see a long scar that lined from his lip, running into his trench coat.

Trying to hide his scars? The man needs a god damned shower. A long and hot one.

Unable to hold his breath for long, Randolph coughed out several times. His cough shook the elevator slightly, and he waved his hand under his nose rapidly in an attempt to get rid of the scent at least slightly.

But immediately after doing so, he looked down awkwardly. It was likely that he didn't smell any better, having basically bathed in garbage from the night previous.

"I've been rude." He muttered a slight apology, but the man didn't budge.

 He just stood there silently, leaning back against the mirror as the elevator continued to move.

Is he ignoring me?

Deciding not to mind it as he had been rude first, Randolph averted his gaze.

At the top of the elevator, there was a small screen indicating which floor they were on. As the building was old, the elevator was slow and not smooth, so they had only reached floor 5. Dropping his gaze further, Randolph glanced at the elevator buttons before turning away.

But his gaze turned back once again, noticing something unusual.

No light? That's strange.

On most elevators, the button corresponding to the floor you were going to would be lit up. But oddly enough, there was only one button lit, being the first floor button that Randolph had pressed. He had vividly remembered lighting the button a few moments ago, but then what about the man before him?

Was he just waiting in the elevator, without a location pressed? Why?

Randolph slowly straightened his back, his brows furrowing slightly. 

"Hello?"

But the man didn't respond to anything. Neither his movement or his voice drew a reaction out of him, and he merely stood there in silence with his head leaning down. The lack of reaction was perhaps the largest reaction that the man could cause. His attitude provoked a sense of dread in Randolph.

"…"

A silence came over the elevator as Randolph continued staring at the man. The only sound left was of the elevator running down to the ground floor.

...Is he even… breathing?

 It was only then that Randolph realized that the man wasn't breathing at all. His chest didn't go up and down like normal people, and while Randolph could hear his own breath, he couldn't hear the man's.

It was as if he was in a horror scenario, but Randolph didn't panic. He didn't believe in nonsense like the supernatural.

"Mister, are you alright?" Perhaps as if to alleviate his fears or prove himself right, he pushed forward for a response from the strange man. "Are you in some sort of trou-"

But Randolph's sentence was cut short by an observation of his.

In the mirror behind the man, the one he was leaning on, Randolph could see a faint glint. Maybe the man was trying to hide it with his cap and his clothes, but as his head was leaning down, he couldn't cover his nape.

Running down the back of the man's neck and into the void of his trench coat were several lines of criss-crossing thread. Seeing as to how they were shining, it was a metal thread of some sort. The thread was lining the man's flesh, going in and out as if to seal it up.

It was obvious at first glance that it was a stitch, but just a stitch wouldn't have drawn such a reaction from him. From underneath the sloppily done stitch, a deeper layer of red flesh could be seen. It was bloody and pulsating, as if alive, and the poorly done stitch only added to his view of it, the skin sliding around as if a shirt.

The sight was sickening, but more importantly, it was terrifying.

Cold sweat dripped down Randolph's back as he stared in horror. Luckily, it seemed as if the thing didn't notice his gaze, its head still tilted towards the floor.

It was only a few seconds later that the elevator door slowly opened up, allowing light to flood into the elevator from the day outside.

Forcing his feet to move, Randolph stepped out of the elevator one step at a time. The man didn't follow him. He remained in the same unmoving position as the elevator door slid closed, completely unreactive.

Randolph's pace was pale as he stood there stunned. He took a shaky breath as his gaze turned towards the top of the elevator, looking at the digital button that was there. It remained at 1, indicating that the thing was still in there, probably still unmoving in that exact same position.

Cosplay?... no, a prank. It was a prank. 

Though incredibly unnerved, Randolph shook off his goosebumps as he left his apartment complex.