You wake up. Quite jarringly, in fact. Your head hurts, and you seem to be in a polished metal box. There's a set of doors on one side, but no doorknob. Right next to the door, there's a small panel. It has half a dozen buttons, labeled 1-6.

The button with the number 6 looks as if it's out of order. The button is hanging out of the socket by a red wire.

You're sure you've been in a place like this before, but you seem to remember it moving. Yes, these things are supposed to move. This one must be stuck. Call for help? Yes, you can call for help. But... how? You have no way to contact any people, and the elevator has nothing but the doors and the buttons.

Maybe you should press one.

You choose the second button. A siren rings in your ears, and you frantically try to hit a different button, but it's too late--your fate is sealed, just like the closed doors of the elevator.

The elevator shakes and screeches as it staggers up its track. You're bounced around, it drops several times but catches itself every time you think you're going to die. Finally, the doors groan open and you gladly step outside, grateful to be alive.

The smell of smoke and smog fills your lungs. Skyscrapers loom above your head. A greasy wind blows into your face. You hear sirens. Spotlights blind your sight as helicopters hum above you. Dogs bark. Cars screech and honk. You've stepped in the middle of a manhunt; speakers and broadcasts announce the escape of a violent murderer from a maximum security prison.

You turn towards the elevator. The doors are shuddering, as though they'll close soon.

"You!" shouts a voice as sharp and flaky as the aftermath of a bad can opener. "Hands in the air! Turn around!"

You obey slowly.

A man in the bright orange prison uniform glares at you. His hands are stained with murder, but he has no gun. He's just distracted you. He's running forwards. You read his purpose in his bloodshot eyes--the elevator can only carry one person.