What happens when you're trapped in a room full of your OCs?

Well, that's what you were thinking, too. You never would've imagined being trapped in a seemingly sprawling room with all of your OCs. The thing was, you'd been working as a janitor for the hotel as a part-time job, and your duties were simple - vacuum the floors, clean the rooms, and ensure that everything is in check. Nevertheless, you go into an elevator to traverse and efficiently clean the different floors of the establishment.

However, something happens. Once you click the buttons on the side and the metallic doors close, the journey starts off relatively normal - to say the least. A few minutes later, the elevator jolts - and the crimson, illuminated numbers begin to drop down; rapidly, in fact. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5..

Your eyes widen, your breath grows laboured, your heartbeat quickens, and your blood runs frigid as it continues to make a hasty descent. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.. This is it.., you think to yourself, your mind racing with stories of elevator malfunctions. Why?

Why didn't you listen?

The most confusing part of this trip comes as the elevator comes to a sudden halt. Your eyes pan up at the number above the metallic doors.

-1 It reads. How is that possible? You think to yourself, amazed at the fact that you - fortunately - hadn't become a smear of blood and gore on the walls, floor, and ceiling of the contraption. With a loud, indistinct "ping", the doors slide open, and you find yourself in front of a winding, labyrinthine hallway - with numbered doors lining either side. In this place, the ceilings look almost infinitely high, as if this level in particular was made to adopt beings of all different shapes and sizes rather than guests.

What do you do?