I worked as a mall security guard, a job I took to make ends meet while I finished up my college degree. It was a quiet gig for the most part, with the occasional shoplifter or mischievous teenagers causing minor trouble. My shifts typically passed uneventfully, allowing me to work on my assignments and study during the late hours. Little did I know that a single, fateful night would change everything.
One chilly autumn evening, I was assigned to the Calington Mall, a sprawling shopping center located on the outskirts of town. With its labyrinthine layout, it was easy to get lost in, even during daylight hours. The mall had seen better days, its once-vibrant stores now dwindling in number, and the echoing footsteps of shoppers replaced by the eerie quiet of empty corridors. The mall’s decline had affected my job, too; there were fewer disturbances and fewer people to keep an eye on.
As the hours ticked by, I settled into the usual routine. I patrolled the corridors, checked the CCTV cameras, and made a point to investigate any suspicious noises or disturbances. That night, however, a peculiar event unfolded, one that would leave me questioning the very fabric of reality.
It was around 2 AM when I first discovered it: a crumpled piece of paper, half-hidden under a bench in the food court. As I picked it up, I assumed it was just trash, but something about it caught my attention. It was a neatly folded, worn piece of parchment that seemed ancient in comparison to the modern-day surroundings. Intrigued, I unfolded it and began to read.
The list was titled “The Mall’s Midnight Rules,” and my heart started pounding as I read the first rule.
Rule #1: Never look back.
I chuckled nervously at the cryptic message, thinking it was nothing more than a prank by a bored teenager or a creative shopper. But then, my curiosity got the better of me, and I looked around the food court, half-expecting someone to jump out and laugh. There was no one in sight.
I shrugged it off and continued my patrol, occasionally glancing back, thinking it was all just a silly prank. I was wrong. Rule by rule, my night spiraled into a waking nightmare.
Rule #2: Don’t trust the mannequins.
I shivered as I read the second rule. It couldn’t be a coincidence, I thought. How could someone know I was reading this and craft these rules so quickly? My unease grew as I remembered the lifelike mannequins scattered throughout the mall. Their glassy eyes seemed to follow me, their expressions changing subtly when I looked away. I’d always found them eerie, but now, they were downright sinister.
Rule #3: Stay in the light.
I glanced up at the dim, flickering lights above me, unsure of how seriously I should take this rule. With a growing sense of dread, I began to quicken my pace, staying close to the pools of light cast by the dimly lit overhead fixtures.
Rule #4: Avoid the echoing laughter.
As I approached a deserted arcade, I heard faint, unsettling laughter. It was a child’s laughter, sweet and innocent, but somehow, it sent chills down my spine. My flashlight revealed nothing, and I couldn’t pinpoint its source. I tried to keep moving, but the laughter followed me, echoing through the corridors.
By now, I was panicking, and the rules seemed less like a prank and more like a sinister game. But there was something about them that compelled me to follow. Perhaps it was morbid curiosity or fear that kept me reading, but I couldn’t stop.
Rule #5: Do not enter the forbidden store.
The rules were becoming more ominous with each passing line, and the mention of a forbidden store piqued my curiosity further. There were empty shop spaces throughout the mall, but none of them were labeled as forbidden. Nevertheless, I couldn’t ignore the urge to find this forbidden store.
I checked my watch; it was nearing 3 AM. I had hours left on my shift, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was no longer alone in the mall. I pushed forward, drawn inexplicably to uncover the mysteries lurking in the shadows.
Rule #6: Beware the silent whispers.
The rules kept coming, one after another, each more ominous than the last. The mall was playing tricks on me, or so I thought. I heard faint whispers in the air, like hushed secrets, but there was no one to share them with. My flashlight revealed nothing but empty corridors.
Rule #7: Do not answer the ringing phone.
With rule number seven, a sense of dread washed over me. My phone began to ring. I hesitated before picking it up; I knew it was a bad idea, but the rules seemed to be dictating my actions now. A chilling voice echoed through the receiver, speaking words that sent shivers down my spine.
“Leave the mall now, or you’ll never leave at all.”
I disconnected the call, my heart pounding. There was no caller ID, just a series of random digits on the screen. I checked the mall’s emergency exits, but they were locked, seemingly leading to nowhere. Panic surged through my veins as I realized I might be trapped in this bizarre nightmare.
Rule #8: Run from the shadowy figures.
I picked up my pace, nervously glancing around every corner, seeing fleeting figures out of the corner of my eye. They were shadowy, indistinct, and far from human. I tried to run from them, but they always seemed to be just out of reach.
My mind was in chaos, and my sanity was slipping away. I knew that something was terribly wrong, that I was caught in a twisted game of unknown rules.
Rule #9: Trust the child in red.
As I stumbled through the dark mall, I encountered a child in red, standing at the end of a long, desolate corridor. He seemed normal enough, despite the surreal circumstances. I approached him cautiously, my instincts warning me not to trust anyone or anything, but my fear and curiosity outweighed my judgment.
The child in red extended a hand, and I noticed a piece of paper clutched in his tiny fingers. He handed it to me, and I saw that it was another rule.
Rule #10: Never let them catch you.
The cryptic message sent a chill down my spine. It was as though the mall itself was sentient, toying with me, urging me to run, to hide, to escape, without giving any clue as to who or what I was supposed to evade.
With each passing rule, the mall grew darker and more menacing, as though it had transformed into an entirely different place. I had no choice but to continue following the unsettling instructions, my heart pounding, my mind racing with paranoia.
Rule #11: Follow the flickering lights.
I noticed a pattern in the rules; they often directed me to specific locations within the mall. The flickering lights led me to an abandoned movie theater, where I found an old projector. As I aimed my flashlight at the screen, I saw a series of disturbing images flashing before my eyes: grotesque faces, distorted figures, and violent scenes. It was a macabre display that sent my nerves into a frenzy.
Rule #12: Listen for the heartbeat.
By now,
I was disoriented, terrified, and thoroughly convinced that I had entered a nightmarish realm beyond my comprehension. As I walked, the mall’s silence became oppressive, and I began to hear a faint, rhythmic heartbeat. It pulsed in the air, growing louder with each step.
I followed the sound to a deserted jewelry store, where a large grandfather clock stood, its pendulum swinging with each beat. The rhythmic pounding echoed in my head, pushing me to the brink of madness.
Rule #13: The mirrors are gateways.
I couldn’t help but feel that the rules were leading me deeper into a realm of the unknown. The mention of mirrors intrigued me. The mall had a few stores with mirrors, but there was one place that had an unusual concentration of them: an abandoned hair salon.
As I approached, I saw a reflection that sent a chill down my spine. My own reflection, but with hollow, empty eyes that stared back at me with malevolence. The mirror seemed to ripple, as though beckoning me to enter. I resisted the temptation and fled, unable to bear the thought of being trapped on the other side.
Rule #14: Trust the girl with the porcelain mask.
The next rule seemed to defy everything I’d experienced so far. It was as if the mall was playing with my trust and paranoia. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. I had seen no one else in this forsaken place except for the shadowy figures, the child in red, and the menacing mannequins.
And then, as if on cue, I stumbled upon a girl in a pristine white dress, her face concealed by a porcelain mask. She appeared from the shadows and handed me another rule.
Rule #15: Confront your darkest fear.
My heart sank as I read the final rule. I knew I couldn’t go on like this, blindly following these incomprehensible instructions. I had to confront whatever lurked within this mall and put an end to this madness.
The girl with the porcelain mask led me through winding corridors, her presence both eerie and oddly comforting. We reached a part of the mall I had never seen before, a place that felt like the heart of darkness itself.
In the center of a vast, dimly lit chamber, a grotesque, nightmarish figure awaited. It was a manifestation of my deepest fears and insecurities, a twisted, monstrous version of myself. I stood face to face with the embodiment of my darkest demons.
The battle that followed was a surreal and horrifying experience. The mall seemed to come alive, twisting and distorting around us. Time and space lost their meaning, and I fought with every ounce of strength and willpower to overcome the nightmare that confronted me.
As I confronted my darkest fear, it slowly began to wither and fade. The mall itself seemed to collapse in on itself, crumbling away like a house of cards. I was consumed by an overwhelming sense of relief and a strange clarity of mind.
I woke up on the floor of the mall’s food court, surrounded by shattered glass, mannequins, and debris. It was daylight, and the mall was once again the abandoned, decrepit place I had known. The rules, the figures, and the surreal horrors had all vanished.
In the end, it was as though I had experienced a waking nightmare, a nightmarish journey through the depths of my own psyche. I couldn’t explain what had happened, and I knew that nobody would believe me if I tried to tell them. I collected myself, made my way to the security office, and checked out for the last time.
My time as a mall security guard had come to an end, and with it, my connection to the Calington Mall. I left that place behind, hoping to put the bizarre and horrifying night behind me.
Years have passed since that inexplicable night, and I’ve never been able to forget it. The rules, the child in red, the porcelain-masked girl, and the nightmarish reflection in the mirror still haunt my dreams. I’ve tried to find answers, to understand what happened, but the truth remains elusive.
The Calington Mall stands as a decrepit monument to a past era, forgotten and abandoned by the world. Its enigmatic, sinister secrets are known to only a few, and I am one of the unlucky souls who walked its dark and twisted corridors. I still wonder if it was all in my head or if I stumbled upon something that should never have been discovered.
One thing is certain: I will never forget the mall’s midnight rules, and the terrifying night that changed my life forever. The experience serves as a chilling reminder that sometimes, the darkest horrors are not found in the shadows but within the depths of our own minds.