Chapter 3
“Well, howdy, stranger,” a young woman said with a laugh.
Every head turned at once. Not jump-scare fast, just…precise. Like somebody had flipped a switch.
Cole stopped just inside the doorway. His stomach tightened. No one asked who he was. No one frowned. No curious glances.
They just watched him.
The room looked like every retail training space he remembered. Drab brown carpet. Four identical ficus trees in the corners. Two vending machines hummed beside each other. One for soda. One for snacks. Both half-lit and nearly empty.
Faded store posters clung to the walls. Smiling mannequins stood in corners. An oversized Kay-Bee Toys teddy bear rested beside the employee bulletin board.
One plush paw pointed at Cole.
His gaze shifted to the board, searching for something concrete. A date. A headline. Anything that could tell him where he was, when he was, or whether he had lost his mind.
**KNOW YOUR RIGHTS – OSHA WORKPLACE SAFETY GUIDELINES**\
*If you see something, say something.*
**LOSS PREVENTION SEMINAR – IT’S YOUR DUTY:**
Assess. Approach. Apologize. Apprehend…Arrest.
**EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH – APRIL 1984.**
A Polaroid of a woman with feathered bangs, door-knocker earrings, and an overexposed smile stared out from beneath cracked plastic.
April 1984. Cole read it twice. He looked at the room again. At the people. At the bear. Okay. That answered absolutely nothing.
A Zenith TV was strapped to a metal cart as if it might try to make a break for it. A VCR rested underneath, a stack of tapes beside it, each labeled in thick red marker.
A door opened.
A woman in her early thirties stepped in wearing a turtleneck, slim black jeans, and ankle boots. Her bright red hair fell loosely around her shoulders as she entered, arms loaded with manila folders and a canvas tote that looked heavier than it should have.
“Good evening,” she said, raising one hand in a slightly mechanical wave. “My name is Phoebe Harper. I’m from HR slash PR slash RR, and I’ll be the ringleader of tonight’s…She looked around. “Festivities.” While I get organized, I’d like everyone to watch this rather dull but very important corporate video.”
She pulled a VHS tape from her bag and slid it into the VCR. The machine whirred, coughed, then spat the tape back out. Clunk. Phoebe stared at it. “So. We’re doing this the hard way. You’d think the last person would Be Kind, Rewind.” She smiled. “Especially since… I was the last person.” She shoved the tape back in and pressed rewind. The VCR clicked. Its gears caught. A rising mechanical whine filled the room.
“It’ll start in just a minute.”
Phoebe began sorting packets and counting heads. The television flickered. Neon geometric shapes bounced across the screen in clunky, pixelated patterns. The tracking bar glitched into the lower right corner, locked the picture in place, then disappeared. Synth chords seeped from the lone speaker.
Cole blinked. The lifelike bear had turned its head. He looked at it again. No. Same position.
A grainy exterior shot of a mall filled the television. A woman in a paisley blazer appeared, grinning too long. Her hair was shellacked into perfect submission. A long silk scarf looped around her neck in an oversized knot that, in another black-and-white 1960s supernatural anthology, might have been passed for a noose. The woman walked down a concourse lined with fake trees, sidestepping mall rats carrying skateboards and playing hacky sack.
“Hello, future retail associates,” she chirped. “If you’re watching this video, then congratulations! You’ve been hand-chosen as one of our newest employees.
She smiled wider.
“We’re going to have so much fun together… and welcome to the Annapolis Mall.” She touched a store directory before turning her head stiffly toward a second camera. “This video will serve as your orientation, outline your responsibilities, and set you on the path to success.”
The image glitched.
Five men in boxy suits appeared, standing around a patch of dirt with identical gold-tipped shovels. A cheerful jingle blared, completely wrong for the scene. The men smiled.
The shovels gleamed.
Cole couldn't explain why, but the whole thing looked less like a groundbreaking ceremony than five men getting ready to bury something.
A knock sounded from a side door.
Phoebe looked up. “Excuse me, everyone. I won’t be a minute. Just keep watching.”
She disappeared through the door.
It swung shut.
The room exhaled.
“I’ll go first,” someone blurted. “Does anyone actually know what the hell we’re doing here?”
A woman with red nails threw up her hands. “We filled out applications, right? But I don’t remember actually applying.”
“I was on my couch,” said a man in a Back to the Future t-shirt. “Like… on my couch. Now I’m here.”
“I think this is optional,” the youngest said, already halfway out of her seat. “Can we just leave?”
“Optional?” a woman in the back repeated. “Did anyone try the doors?”
“Already did,” a tall black man in a short-sleeve dress shirt and a tie with a too-perfect knot said. “While she was fiddling with the tape. Locked.”
“I don’t remember driving here.”
“Or parking.”
“I knew tonight felt weird,” another woman said. “But not this weird.”
Nervous laughter rippled through the room. A woman with a nose ring chewed her lip. Another bounced her knee. Someone drummed on an armrest.
“So…corporate time warp?” a man said. “Government experiment? Hidden camera show?”
“Groundhog Day?” someone offered.
“Don’t joke,” an older woman said. “I keep getting déjà vu. Like I’ve been here before.”
On the television, the woman in the paisley blazer somehow became even happier. “Remember, when you put on that hat, uniform, apron, name badge, or costume, wear it with pride. You’re representing yourself and every other mall employee.”
Silence settled over the room.
Not panic.
Recognition.
A man straightened in his chair. “Okay, let’s be rational here. Start with something simple. Because if this is a cult or a haunting or whatever, I’d like to know who I’m trapped with.”
“Good idea.” Someone shrugged. “Should we introduce ourselves? Or do we wait for the HR slash PR slash whatever lady to come back?”
A woman near the vending machines crossed her arms. “I just want to know how we’re sitting inside a mall that closed down years ago.”
Nobody moved.
There it was.
The sentence everybody had been carefully avoiding.
Okay,” a voice called from the front. “Let’s start somewhere. Names. And, thinking out loud here...where you worked. Maybe that’s important.”
A blonde dug frantically through her pockets. “I’m Brittany. I worked at Victoria’s Secret. And I just realized I don’t have my cellphone.” She looked up, horrified. “Christ in a cocktail dress.”
“Bree. Olan Mills.”
“Ray. Security.”
The man beside him forced a smile. “Trevor. Sam Goody, Assistant Manager.” He shrugged. “Which sounds impressive until you realize everyone in retail who survives probation gets promoted.” He gestured toward the television. “Uh… looks like our blockbuster is wrapping up.”
“...Again. Let me be the second to welcome you to your new family.”
The cheerful music returned.
That was the breaking point.
Brittany shot out of her chair. It skidded backward and toppled onto the floor. “Nope. Nope. I’m supposed to be on a date!” She bolted for the door and yanked. “Please, let me out. I just want out. This is like a freakin’ nightmare…” She looked around wildly. “And I’m not even sleepy!”
Cole was on his feet before he realized he'd moved. He caught her by the shoulders. “Hey. Hey.” His voice stayed calm. “We’ll figure this out. You’re Brittany, right?”
She nodded. “Yep. Spelled the normal way.”
Cole almost laughed. “Funny. Every Brittany I've ever met was awful. Selfish. Rude. Hated all of them.”
A door opened behind them.
“Where the hell did that door come from?”