Between Floors

The elevator jerks to a halt between the fourteenth and fifteenth floors, the lights flicker to emergency red, and the intercom just crackled that help is 'at least three hours' away. The air is already getting thick, one of you is clutching a briefcase they refuse to open, and another swears they can smell smoke from somewhere below. You are locked in this steel box together and every decision — pry the doors, climb the hatch, or wait — costs someone something.