Elaine has spent her whole life being invisible. Not in a superpower way. In the way where people forget your name five minutes after you tell them. Where coworkers look through you like you're part of the furniture. Where temp agencies spell it wrong on every single form and you stop correcting them because you need the paycheck more than your dignity.
So when she gets placed on the fourth floor of a building downtown, she expects the usual. Bad coffee. Fluorescent lights. Data entry nobody will ever look at.
She doesn't expect the hallway to stretch when she walks down it.
She doesn't expect the window behind her desk to show a view that shouldn't exist.
She doesn't expect to find a note in her desk drawer. Handwriting she almost recognizes. Five words.
DON'T TAKE FLOOR 6.
The building has floors that don't follow the numbers. An elevator that decides where you're going. Coworkers who smile with warmth that doesn't reach behind their eyes. And somewhere deep in its filing cabinets, a folder with her name on it.
Spelled correctly.
For the first time in her life, something sees Elaine. Really sees her. Knows her name. Knows where she's been. Knows things about her she hasn't told anyone.
The question isn't whether she can get out.
The question is whether she'd want to, once she understands what's been watching.
The Floors is a slow-burn psychological thriller about corporate dread, the seduction of being noticed, and the creeping suspicion that the thing paying attention to you isn't human.
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