The last one.

 Dot parked the scooter close to the entrance. He'd never been to that part of the city before, especially since they flattened the hills and raised apartment buildings, all within a couple of years. It was advertised as a new utopia, but so late at night, it did not appear to be anything other than a bunch of shiny, overpriced boxes.

He picked up the pizza from the back of the scooter, wiped the rain off his shoulders, and rang the intercom.

"Who is it?" a voice sounded from the other side.

"Pizza Delivery for-," before he had time to check the order details, the line was cut and the door buzzed.

Pulling on it several times, Dot realized something was wrong with the handle and he rang again.

"I buzzed you in already," the voice growled, now quite agitated. "You know how doors work, right?"

For the second time he tried to open it, but the door did not budge.

"Sir, I don't think this is working. Is there another entrance I can use or would you-"

"Tsk tsk. Just go to the back. But they lock it at midnight, so hurry up. I've been waiting for ages already."

Midnight, Dot repeated in his head as he circled the building. He had a whole minute until it was too late, but he did not want to worry about it too much. It was a fancy building, they simply had to have some understanding for people who tend to order food minutes before closing time.

The proximity of the highway made the parking lot behind the building echo with the sounds of passing cars. Surprisingly, most of the lights surrounding it had gone out, and the few that were still standing were no brighter than candlelight. Under these odd circumstances, Dot thought it best to get finished with the day and head home as quickly as possible.

Somewhere along the short walk, he noticed something moving down the middle of the parking lot. It was white, almost too bright for such dark surroundings, prancing among the cars and slowly getting closer.

Is that a bird? he wondered, though he could not be certain from the distance. Whatever it was, it was watching him, tilting its head as he climbed the stairs to the back entrance.

"You coming in?" said an old man, startling him from behind. He was just about to lock the door, while Dot tried to reconcile with the mystery.

"Yes," he returned, and quickly slid inside. "Hey, did you see that goose over there?" He pointed through the glass. "Is there a farm around here?"

The man squinted at him, having no idea what the question meant, and looked vaguely at where Dot was pointing. "What? A goose? Where?"

After another look, Dot realized that the animal was no longer anywhere to be seen.

"Forget I asked," he returned waving his hand, and quietly wondering if the lack of sleep was getting to him.

The housekeeper mumbled something in response, rolled up the long strand of keys, shoved them in his pocket, and led Dot to the lobby without another word. There, he insisted Dot used the front door on his way out, because he too wanted to head home sooner, rather than later.

The empty hallway echoed with his footsteps and Dot went around the wet spots and the "slippery" signs left by the cleaners. He did his best not to sully their work with his rain-stained shoes, but he soon realized his efforts were in vain because someone ruined it already. A long, precise trail of bird feet left a mark.

He lifted his head to see the white feathered animal standing by the elevators. This time there was no doubt what it was, but Dot did not understand how it was possible for a bird to cover such a distance in such a short time, and better yet enter the building before he did. Either it was some magical inter-dimensional goose, or some crazy person kept a bunch of them as pets.

"How did you get in?" he whispered as he reached for his phone, hoping to at least get a picture of it. He moved slowly, slightly bent over, trying not to scare the animal, but after only a few steps it turned away and wobbled further into the corridor.

"Wait. Don't go. Idiot."

He tried following it, but as he reached the first corner the bird was no more, like it was never even there to begin with. A cold, unnerving chill went down his spine like he'd just witnessed a ghost. He signed, rubbed his eyes, and slapped his cheeks gently, before turning back.

I need a better job.

He called the elevator and leaned against the wall, checking the weather forecast. Rain was very likely to start again and his scooter was not keen on another late-night shower and neither was he. He'd caught one too many colds over the summer and he almost could not remember what it was like to not have his nose stuffed.

~~DING~~

He winked at the mirror at the back of the elevator, knowing very well his face looked like it belonged to a pale, crusty mummy, so he pressed his back against it, trying to at least enjoy the ride. It's been a while since he'd had a good night's sleep, or any kind of proper rest at that. The idea of a warm bed sounded better than any other dream he ever had.

The seventeenth floor was far away and he dared to close his eyes if only for a moment.

When that moment passed, whether it was a couple of seconds or a minute, he was jerked back to reality by something shifting under his feet. The elevator was trembling, softly vibrating as it moved upward, and then, it began to slow down, until it was hardly moving at all.

The numbers on the display above the door got locked on number 13, and stood there for a bit, before changing to 12, then 14, 5, 7, 88, 45, 99, 11111, and onward, an endless array of random numbers appeared and disappeared like there was no limit to how many floors there were. The maddening display was soon followed by the flickering of the ceiling lights in a synchronous rhythm. Then, there was a complete darkness.

Now, that's just great.

In this particular situation, most people would resort to panic or at least some form of dread, but getting stuck in an elevator happened a great number of times in Dot's life. He'd long ago accepted the fact that unfortunate things would happen to him more than to an average person and there was ultimately nothing he could do about it, thus no reason to be frustrated by it at all.

In a natural attempt to hit the emergency button and wait for someone to show up and save him, he even considered taking a nap, but the plan fell through when his elbow hit something midway. Though he could not feel much through his arm, he did conclude the thing was surprisingly pleasant and bouncy. Upon quick investigation, he realized it was fur, which happened to be attached to something that was very much alive.

 He froze, pulling his hand back and noticing a change in the air. It smelled of metal, leather, lavender, sweat, fish, and something a lot like blood. Heavy breathing and growling intestines revealed the uncanny presence of other passengers.

When did they come in?

"Who's touching me?" the voice beside him said. It was deep and rather slow-spoken. "I am soft, but I'd rather you kept your hands to yourself."

"Is this Hell? Am I dead?" someone else said in the pitch-black darkness.

"What is this nonsense, now?" said another.

"Hello? Who's there?" said the fourth, "Is this real?"

"No," said the fifth, without a grain of confusion and fear the others shared. "This can't be the underworld."

"Why is it dark then?" the second one sounded again.

"I should have stayed in prison." they croaked together.

The voices swirled around him like a pack of ghosts in the night, as he tried to keep his stand in the corner of the elevator and pretend he was not there at all.

A long sigh came from the right, and Dot could swear he saw a glimmer of light from that corner, like glowing embers in white. "Everybody stay calm."

Whoever they are, they have some issues.

"Yes, but… oh unholy whiskers, where are we? I can't say I imagined it this way," the furry one spoke.

A small commotion rose among them as they tried to understand the confines of the metal box. They tapped on the walls and the ceiling as the elevator began to speed up again.

"Wait? What's that smell?" said an angry woman's voice as someone kept sniffling the air. "I smell food."

"Delicious food," said the furry one, and before long a paw swayed through the air and landed right on Dot's head, heavy and soft. He did not see it coming.

"Who are you? Why is your hair so weird?" The paw kept patting the top of Dot's head and then tried to grasp the features of his face. Soon after, the other paw landed on his shoulder. The very idea of who they might belong to gave him goosebumps.

"I got the light," said the one with glowing eyes that now seemed to leave a trail in the air, like a long exposure photograph of a beast in the night. The light above their heads began to flicker once again until they slowly returned to normal, revealing the faces of everyone present.

Grasping his pizza box Dot observed the bizarre elevator companions. They were not what he expected.

At first glance, they looked like they were headed to a costume party. They were, however, more convincing than that, to a point he wondered if they were a part of some expensive production. because every scar on their faces, every intricate detail of their clothing, and dents on the metal they wore, was far too real.

He watched them, scanning every piece of them he could see in such a tight space, having no clue how he did not notice them enter mere moments ago, for it would not have been something he'd have easily forgotten.

One was hooded, with a long black cloak, so dark it almost absorbed the light, save for her unnatural eyes.

One stood taller than the rest with a dozen weapons and heavy armor that would ring with every movement.

One had long pointed ears that twitched under his silver hair.

One had all the looks of a gangster from the old movies and an eye patch to cover up a scar underneath.

The last was a tall cat in leather clothing.

Yet, they were as surprised as he was. When he stared, they stared back at him, like he was somehow the odd one out.

Like a looming menace, the tall woman with blood-red hair leaned down to him and looked him in the eyes through red-tinted glasses until the blood froze in his veins. He could have sworn he heard echoing screams in those few seconds of torment.

"Something wrong?" Dot returned in weak defiance. He could not remember the last time he came face to face with someone so terrifying.

"You tell me?" she said, looking at the oily cardboard in his hands.

"Always count on a Karzun to start trouble," said the man who resembled an elf. He kept his eyes closed until the light stabilized and then focused on her like she was the enemy.

"Who are you to tell me how to act in this of all places?" she said putting her cold finger to Dot's forehead like she was drilling for oil. She was not pleased. "Who are any of you?" she growled turning her head. "Are you what the Citadel has for me?"

She pushed back Do'ts head like he was some unwanted weed in a perfect garden.

"Bailanarth of the Windweaver, but please call me Bax," returned the elf with a gentle bow of the head. He did not seem to be in any fear of the big woman, or any of the sharp blades she carried. "Pleased to make your acquaintances."

"Honored to be in your presence," said the man with the eyepatch. He was arguably the most normal-looking of them all, dressed in a fine black suit with matching shoes and a golden ring on his index finger. The look of intrigue in his eyes was matched only by his sarcastic smile. "Call me Flarion."

"I didn't think a Yordagan would stoop so low," returned the tall woman. "Quite a shame, don't you think?"

"And yet here we all are," he smiled cheerfully this time. "A Samarel monk, a high elf of Windwever nobility, a great Karzun warrior, and a… a wizard?" he looked at the white-eyed woman, who squinted back at him, pulling her hood further over her forehead.

"The Citadel has a real sense of humor," he added. "But I don't think it's very practical to accuse anyone of anything just yet."

They are really invested in this…

"Then who is he?" the tall woman sounded again, turning her suspicion back at Dot. "What's a weakling doing in here?"

"Weakling?" Dot cried and then quickly lowered his voice at the sight of Crow's oddly sharp teeth. "Seriously? Please, just leave me out of your game. I have more important things to do right now," he said as he shook the box with a large logo of a happy crow eating a slice of pizza.

"Crow?" she returned, grinning like a predator. "Like me? Wonderful."

Someone save me.

Even without his prayer, salvation arrived as a paw cutting the space between him and Crow. "That's enough of that."

"I'm afraid it isn't even close. You of all people, monk, should know how this place works, and what happens to the weak ones."

"That we leave to the Creator," he said. "Time will reveal her intent."

The elevator was slowing down again. When the moment came, Dot had a plan to politely push his way out and never lay eyes on those lunatics again. He no longer felt safe among them.

"What exactly do you mean?" asked Flarion. 

"He means we're all screwed," Crow returned and lowered her head like she'd just lost a battle. "I am no wizard but I've heard enough tales of this place to know what may come. By the honor of the Karzun horde, I swear to you we've all made a deadly mistake by entering this place."

"It is foolish to waver now friends. We chose this path, after all." said the cat monk with a cheerful gleam on his furry face. The more he looked at him, the less Dot believed he was a human wearing a costume. The tail moved perfectly on its own, the mouth and the eyes had more life in them than any mechanism or illusion, and he spoke and acted like he was both a cat and a person.

"Oh, how I love the fateful," Crow's gaze was fixed on Dot and he felt the cold needles pierce his skin like she did it on purpose. "It would be a shame to prove me right," she said and then began to laugh like it was the funniest thing ever. "But the game hasn't even started yet."