Episode 1

Chapter 1

The Elevator at 12:07

Paris...

During the day, the city was filled with tourists, cafés, and laughter.

But at night...

Paris became an entirely different story.

The golden lights along the Seine reflected across the dark water. Ancient balconies watched the city in silence. Somewhere in the distance, a piano played softly from a late-night café while rain-soaked cobblestone streets shimmered beneath the streetlamps.

People called Paris the City of Love.

But every city had secrets that only the night knew.

And Paris...

Paris knew how to bury its secrets deep.

In the heart of the city stood an old building.

Beaumont Building.

A century-old structure.

From the outside, it looked no different from the other historic buildings surrounding it. Yet the locals often whispered strange stories about it.

They said the building's old elevator started moving on its own every night at exactly 12:07 AM.

Without a passenger.

Without anyone pressing a button.

And the strangest part...

It always stopped on the thirteenth floor.

Even though the building didn't have a thirteenth floor.

Most people dismissed it as nothing more than an urban legend.

Except those...

Who had seen it with their own eyes.

"Isabelle, you're late again."

The museum supervisor glanced at her watch.

Isabelle Laurent offered an apologetic smile as she gathered her papers.

"I know."

"If you keep working like this, one day this museum will become more important to you than your own home."

A small laugh escaped Isabelle.

"I think it already has."

The woman shook her head and walked away.

A few minutes later, the museum was nearly empty.

Isabelle slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped outside.

The rain had just stopped.

The streets were damp.

The scent of coffee and wet stone lingered in the cool night air.

At twenty-four, Isabelle Laurent possessed a quiet elegance. Her hazel eyes seemed darker beneath the city lights, and her dark brown hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders.

She wore a long black wool coat, a red scarf wrapped around her neck, and brown leather boots.

Old buildings.

Forgotten stories.

Silent nights.

Those were her greatest weaknesses.

She loved Paris after midnight.

Because at night, the city spoke less.

And Isabelle liked quiet things.

Lost in that silence, her gaze drifted across the street.

Beaumont Building.

She paused.

She had heard its name before.

Especially the stories about the mysterious elevator.

A faint smile touched her lips.

"People really do invent the strangest stories."

She was about to turn away when suddenly—

A light flickered on inside the building.

Her eyes narrowed.

The elevator.

The old elevator with its golden iron gates.

It was moving.

Slowly descending.

A frown formed on Isabelle's face.

The building was closed.

The street was nearly empty.

So why was the elevator moving?

She glanced at her wristwatch.

12:07 AM.

Exactly 12:07.

A strange chill crawled down her spine.

The elevator reached the ground floor and stopped.

The doors slowly slid open.

Isabelle froze.

Because the elevator wasn't empty.

A man stood inside.

Tall.

Dressed in a black coat.

Dark hair.

Ash-gray eyes.

For several moments, he simply stared at her.

Isabelle was certain she had never seen him before.

And yet...

There was something strangely familiar about him.

As if he had known her for years.

Then his lips moved.

"Meministine me?"

A crease appeared between Isabelle's brows.

She had never heard that language before.

Not French.

Not English.

Not any language she recognized.

"What...?"

she whispered.

But the man didn't answer.

He simply kept looking at her.

As though he knew her.

As though he were staring at a memory he had lost long ago.

Then suddenly—

The elevator lights flickered.

Once.

Twice.

And everything went dark.

Isabelle jolted upright.

Her breathing was uneven.

The room was dark.

Rain tapped softly against her bedroom window.

For several seconds, she couldn't understand where she was.

Then her eyes landed on the digital clock beside her bed.

12:07

The color slowly drained from her face.

Because it was the same time.

The exact same time she had seen in the dream.

The silence in the room suddenly felt heavier.

And for the first time...

Isabelle wondered if it had really been a dream at all.

To Be Continued... 🚪🕛✨

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***