When Jordan moves into the crumbling Victoriana Arms, they notice something an elevator button marked 7.5.
The landlord laughs it off. "Doesn't work," he says. But Jordan hears the elevator moving at 3 AM, stopping between floors. And the button is worn smooth—someone has been pressing it.
Curiosity turns to obsession as Jordan discovers Floor 7.5 actually exists—a timeless hallway between realities where residents have been trapped for decades. Mrs. Halloway, still wearing her 1950s dress. Mr. Petersen, who believes WWII just ended. A young woman who speaks in impossible languages. And something in apartment 7.5C that used to be human.
Jordan tries to document everything, to find proof, to escape. But the floor is hungry. It feeds on time itself, and it's been making room for a new resident. Jordan's apartment number is changing. Their friends are forgetting them. And a door has appeared with their name carved into it—dated 1964.
Some places don't just trap you in space. They trap you in time.
Perfect for fans of House of Leaves, The Magnus Archives, and modern creepypasta. A claustrophobic descent into architectural horror where the building is alive, time is broken, and once you press that button, you've always been a resident.