Elevators are terrifying metal coffins that self destruct upon the act of jumping up and down. One particular elevator on our campus will deliver you through all nine circles of hell whether you jump, sit, or stand. 

Every Wednesday from 6 to 9 pm, I have Astro Lab on the top floor of Pupin. I have come to recognize the elevator as the most cursed place on campus. When I first laid eyes on the foreboding chamber, I knew something grim was in store. The only thing missing from this image is a sign reading “abandon all hope, ye who enter here”:

It has been confirmed with a reliable source (Satan) that the three segments represent the leopard, the lion, and the she-wolf.

Behind this threatening exterior is a chamber of misery like no other. When the segments eventually drag to the left (what elevator doesn’t close in the center, anyway??), you catch your first glimpse of the hostile interior:

Upon stepping inside, you’ll notice a few particularly cursed components. Notice the three rectangular boards lining the walls. They’re like the RXBAR you eat instead of a meal: rectangular, ugly, somehow the only thing keeping the flimsy piece of shit together.

Next, you’ll notice the devilish ceiling.

The far left bulb is dented. The center right bulb is the color of Donald Trump. There’s a random, boarded up hatch that is likely one’s only hope for escape. The blades of the vent are dented. There is simply no logical explanation for the conditions of these appliances that is not based in supernatural malice.

The scratches and dents along the walls are the claw marks of damned souls who weren’t fortunate enough to make it out in time.

In 2018, Black Mirror wanted to make an interactive episode in which innocent students are forced to ride in this elevator. The episode was dropped because the space is legitimately haunted, but you can still see the “white bear” symbol that the set decorators bolted into the wall:


If these visuals aren’t enough to send a bead of sweat down your back and give you tunnel vision, the blood-curdling screech of the closing door will be. Adam Scott aka Trevor recorded the shrieks ringing through The Bad Place to create a track that will foreshadow your impending doom:

The echoing BOOM at the end is the final thing you hear before you begin accelerating upwards, reaching an absolutely absurd speed. The numbers on the dumb little screen disappear, and once you start zooming, any button you press in an anxious attempt to escape early will be ignored by the blasphemous, omnipotent elevator.

I wish I could say that I’m writing this post to keep the nice people of Columbia safe, but that would be a lie; this is a cry for help. Please help me. As I said, my lab is every Wednesday from 6 to 9 pm. Will you please come with me? I really don’t want to ride in it alone. If holding my sweaty hand up eight levels isn’t enough of a bribe, I may or may not Venmo you a buck or two for your service.




elevator pictures via bwogger

white bear picture via Wikimedia Commons