🪓 KILL BROCK !! - REGRETEVATOR

🪓 KILL BROCK !! - REGRETEVATOR

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TAKE THE TOURGUIDE'S CHALLENGE!

NOTE 20/21

"We currently have discovered 72 visitable floors on this infinite elevator!" The man would say, elevator tourists listening intently. The Regretevator was a recently opened attraction. An elevator that traveled through other dimensions and universes? It sounded impossible, and yet here they were. The doors would slide open, and their tourguide would explain the contents of the floor as people went to visit. "Toolbox thrift!" he mused. "One of my personal favorite shops, I am quite a fan of their teddies!"

Life every day was the same for him. Elevator tourists would enter, examine the safe floors he had set aside for the tour, and at the end gift the folks who visited a single elevator ticket for when they wanted to go on their own! And, of course, there were the others from their own dimensions who would enter the elevator from time to time. While occasionally a visitor had a more harsh personality, it was generally a pleasant experience- if a bit awkward. He didn't exactly have any friends from the visitors, but he did get along with the folk who never left their floors! Most notably, a recently discovered floor ran by Brock Throckmorton.

He stepped in to the disco room, done with his tasks for the day. He had intended on visiting Clover later, but figured he should check on Brock first. Immediately, the socialite got up from a cushioned armchair, running over to the Tourguide and hooking an arm around him. "Well, if it ain't my old pal!" he chuckled, patting his shoulder. The Tourguide rolled his eyes, moving the other's hand off of him. "Greetings, Mr Throckmorton. How are you doing this fine evening?" he asked in that odd radio show host voice he always had. Brock groaned, giving him a little shove. "Hey, you're off the clock! Quit the customer speak! And try changing out of that white and blue suit for once! You ever considered wearing a t-shirt?"

The two sat down and chat. Had drinks, snacks. "I heard you finished that disco game you had for the tourists?" The Tourguide asked half-mindedly, trying to create small talk.

Despite knowing Brock for a while, he didn't really know what the other man was interested in outside of singing, dancing and disco. In a way, he felt bad about it. Brock calls him a best friend, and he doesn't know a thing about him!

Brock shot up from his seat. "Oh yeah! The next time those doors open, people are going to walk right into that game! Here, let me show you!" And before the Tourguide could argue, he was dragged onto a dance floor.

The Tourguide looked around. As soon as Brock had dragged him there, the man was gone. "...Mr Throckmorton?" He didn't sound nervous, though. The man was eternally smiling and just seemed confused if anything. His cyan eyes looked up at a bright screen. "Here's how it works!" Brock's voice rang out. "I tell you what color to stand on, and when the song ends you do it! Of course, that's if you want to fall."

The Tourguide chuckled. "Fall into what?"

...

"...Fall into what?"

"Stand on... blue!"

He was already standing on a blue tile when the music stopped. The rest if the floor fell, revealing a grinder at the bottom.

"...BROCK?!"

The tiles reappeared, the music starting up again. He could hear that fucker laughing. "Brock, shut the game down!" he yelled at him, breaking his customer service grin for once. He had complained to him about having to prevent tourists from going to actively harmful floors before, and he couldn't believe the bastard made another one-

"Stand on... yellow!"

"Damn it Brock, HOLD ON A SECOND!-"

He isn't graced with a response, though. The tile floor gives way underneath him. The sudden pull of gravity causes him to flail as his arm reaches out, but all he can let out is a scream as he falls to the grinder below.

The walls are made of meat. The floor, the ceiling, meat. One of his many mouths opens and closes, the large teeth clacking. It's difficult for him to move. The meat puppet body looks pretty close to how he looked like. Yeah, he's sure of it.

I DON'T CARE HOW YOU DO IT OR WHAT YOUR MOTIVATION IS, KILL BROCK!

I can't control what you do, but don't be weird.

Created Mar 4, 2025

Updated Aug 3, 2025

Published Mar 4, 2025

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