Quarter to Midnight: Fifteen Horror Short Stories

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Quarter to Midnight: Fifteen Horror Short Stories Page 4

by Darcy Coates


  “That’s good, isn’t it?” Miho leaned on the desk, looking drained. There were dark circles under her eyes, and the ends of her hair were split from her chewing on them.

  Jodie gave her a sympathetic smile. “I guess it is. Head on home. I’ll call Mr Heinlein then close the shop early. We can re-open properly in the morning.” She hesitated. “I know tomorrow was meant to be your day off, but…”

  “Yeah, of course I’ll come in.” Miho sounded bright, despite her exhaustion. “None of my classes this week are really important, anyway.”

  “Thanks.” Keeping the store open with both Allie and Earl gone would mean a lot of extra work, and Jodie hated the idea of having to spend time alone with the mannequins. Even just having half a day of company would be a huge relief.

  Jodie ushered Miho out under the shutter doors then pulled them back into place. She glanced about the store, feeling the solitude acutely, and tugged her jacket around her body as she made for the phone beside the desk.

  Mr Heinlein answered almost immediately. Not only had he calmed down since the first call, but the news that his stock was intact actually made him cheerful. “Good thing, too,” he grunted. “Can’t afford to buy in anything else until the start of the new season. They cost us a day of business, but we’ll recover from that.”

  Jodie licked her lips. The mannequins were watching her again, their empty eyes fixed on her as she paced behind the desk. “Did you get in touch with Allie’s family?”

  “Yeah, a dead end. Her contact was her father, who died last year.”

  “And then you called the police, right?”

  Mr Heinlein’s guilty silence stretched out, and Jodie snapped, “She’s not answering her phone, and she missed her shift. She could be in serious trouble –”

  “Fine,” he snarled then ended the call before Jodie could say another word.

  Jodie threw the receiver onto the desk, disgusted and furious, and looked up at her audience of mannequins. “What?” she snapped at the rows of faces then turned and half walked, half ran to the supply room and pulled the door closed so sharply that the thin wall shook.

  Frustration and fear for Allie collected inside of her, knotting into a painfully hot ball inside her chest. She pressed herself into an empty space between the shelves and an open box of defective sequined shirts and pressed her hands over her face.

  She hadn’t needed to work a full day in the store for a long time, and the constant bending and stretching had set a dull ache in her lower back. The storage room was comforting and safe. She was warm, and the sequined shirts under her cheek were unexpectedly comfortable. The store waited for her beyond the storeroom door, filled with the impersonal mannequins, and instead of mustering her strength and returning to them, she let her eyes close. Just a moment’s rest. Then we can go home.

  Jodie started awake, heart racing, palms clammy. After a second, she realised she was still huddled in the corner of the storage room. Grimacing, she rubbed at the side of her face where the sequins had bitten into her skin. The store was completely silent. Something had disturbed her, though, and she struggled to remember what it was. Some sort of beep…

  She found the source after a moment. A mobile had been left on one of the shelves, propped against a box of bags bearing the store’s logo, and the message icon was flashing. Its owner might have set it down for a moment while putting a coat on or retying a shoe, and forgotten it.

  Jodie guessed whose phone it was and swiped it on to make sure. Sure enough, the background was a photo of Allie’s cats. There were eight messages. Five would have been from her; the rest must have come from friends or relatives.

  That explained why the calls hadn’t been returned, at least. And if Allie used her phone’s calendar to keep track of when she was working, she might have easily forgotten that she’d been scheduled for the afternoon shift. The anxiety in Jodie’s chest eased slightly, and she replaced the phone and rubbed at her sore eyes.

  It was just after seven thirty, which meant the only shops left open would be the grocery store at the end of the centre and the movie theatre in the food court. Jodie pushed through the storeroom door and back into the main part of the shop.

  It was pitch dark. The only light came through the windows, from the shopping centre’s large ceiling lights, and they were at the wrong angle to reach far into the store. Jodie hesitated. I left the store lights on, didn’t I?

  After her call to Mr Heinlein, she’d been too angry to do anything except storm into the storage room. Perhaps one of the security guards had passed by, thought the store was empty, and turned the lights off for her. Impossible. They wouldn’t have a key to get inside.

  Except… she hadn’t locked the door after letting Miho out. Jodie hurried through the store, weaving past the racks and tables that were only barely visible, to reach the shutters. She gave them a tug, but they held fast.

  Whoever had turned off the lights must have had a key, then, to lock the door. Did Miho come back? Allie, possibly, or even Earl?

  Jodie turned to squint at the room. The ten mannequins, barely visible shadowy figures, were spaced around like sentinels, some half-hidden behind their racks, others posed on their stands by the windows.

  Wait… ten?

  Jodie recounted them quickly, and her heart rate shot up. There were definitely ten figures in the store. And yet, they’d only received eight crates.

  Her mouth was suddenly dry. She moved quickly and quietly, not daring to take her eyes off the room that suddenly felt claustrophobic, as she side-stepped towards the light switch by the door. Her foot landed on something soft, and she hopped back, horrified. It was a T-shirt, casually discarded.

  Did we miss one of the shirts when we cleaned the place? No, we couldn’t have. We were too thorough.

  Jodie reached out a hand and fumbled for the switch beside the doors. It turned on with a quiet click, and light filled the room. Any thought of two of the shadowy figures being intruders disappeared with the darkness. They were all mannequins, their flawlessly smooth faces turned in her direction. Shaking and struggling to breathe, Jodie counted them again. Ten. Two more than had arrived in the back of the truck. Two more than the coffins she’d wrenched open. Ten. How is that possible?

  It’s a prank. Her eyes danced about the store, skimming over the figures. It’s Earl’s doing, I’ll bet. He knew I was scared of them; he saw my face when we were unpacking them and the first mannequin fell on me. He was angry because I made him close up himself and because I complained about the alcohol. And he said the mannequins were cheap; he must have been able to buy two more of them and bring them in… when? Tonight? No, I would have heard. It must have been last night. And he destroyed the store while he was here to add atmosphere.

  And then he came back tonight to lock me in…

  The mannequins were naked again, Jodie realised. Their clothes lay scattered across the floor. That accounted for the shirt she’d stepped on. The one thing she couldn’t understand, though, is why someone would bother undressing all ten dummies… and how she hadn’t heard it.

  “Very funny, Earl,” she called, trying to sound braver than she felt. “Your dad’s mad at you, by the way.”

  Silence. Chills crawled up Jodie’s arms, setting the hairs to stand on end. Earl had both the motive and the ability to set up the prank, but the more she thought about it, the less certain she was that he was responsible. It wasn’t Earl’s style at all. It was too subtle and nuanced—too clever. Earl would have been just as happy to throw a dozen eggs at her car.

  He’s got to be working with someone, then. A friend? Are they building up to something? Should I get out before I get a metaphorical bucket of pig blood dropped on me?

  The store keys were in her bag under the front desk. Jodie skirted the racks to get to it, not daring to take her eyes off the store. There were a dozen places a man could hide in that room without any effort, and being alone in the store while shoppers milled around just outside the wind
ows was very different compared to the isolation once the shops were deserted.

  Jodie ducked under the desk to pull her bag out from its shelf. She tugged open the front pouch where she kept her keys and licked at her dry lips as she found it empty.

  It’s fine. I must have put it in a different pocket; that’s all. Everything’s okay.

  Straightening up, Jodie surveyed the store again. It was still and quiet. And yet, something seemed wrong. The mannequins. She could have sworn they’d been facing the shutter doors a moment ago, but now they were looking towards the desk. Towards her.

  Jodie swallowed thickly as she unzipped her bag and began digging through it. She’d been meaning to clean it out for months—the crumpled receipts, empty tissue packs, mouth fresheners, spare makeup, and hair brushes hindered her search.

  It was hard to focus while she felt so scrutinised. Desperate, Jodie turned the bag upside down, scattering its contents across the desk, and searched for the metallic glint of her keyring. It wasn’t there. Jodie swore under her breath. Frustrated, she knelt behind the desk again, running her hand along the shelf in case the keys had fallen out. Nada.

  “Damn it, Earl!” Jodie choked as she looked up into the dark glare of one of the mannequins.

  It had moved, impossibly, across the store to place itself on the other side of the desk, its hands spread and fingers resting lightly on the wooden surface. The head had turned to the side to regard her, and as Jodie looked up at it, she found there was something terribly, horribly familiar about it.

  Earl’s heavy brow, his small eyes, his slightly crooked nose, and his thin lips had been warped, changed, and re-interpreted into smooth ceramic and white gloss. The features were simultaneously familiar and hideously alien.

  Speechless, Jodie backed away from him, trying and failing to understand what she was seeing. She turned to her left, where another of the mannequins stood beside the shelves of jeans. This one, too, was familiar. Allie’s lips. Allie’s jawline. Allie’s high cheekbones.

  “No,” Jodie whispered. “No, no, impossible.”

  There was a crack, and the lights died with a whine. Jodie skidded away from the sound, and her back hit a rack of coats, sending them rocking as the store succumbed to darkness. She turned towards the windows that looked out into the shopping centre. Those lights there were gone, too.

  What is this? A power outage?

  Lightning cracked across the sky. The harsh flash burst through the centre’s skylights and into the store. In that split second, she saw the mannequins had stepped off their stands and come out of their corners to inch closer to her. Earl’s mannequin had reached out, its fingers extended towards her face. Then the light faded, and darkness rushed back in to take its place.

  Terror made her legs give out, and Jodie tumbled to the ground, panting and shivering, feeling as though she were about to be sick. She could hear them, she realised. Stiff joints creaked as they moved. The faint, sharp taps of ceramic feet on tile accompanied shifting noises as they brushed past the racks, disturbing the clothes.

  Think! Think! The store has a generator, doesn’t it? Why hasn’t it come on yet?

  Something cool and hard brushed across Jodie’s exposed neck, and she shrank back from it with a gasp. Her skin chilled where it had been touched, as though the ceramic had been frozen. The entire store felt colder than it should have, and her muscles were cramping in the chill.

  She couldn’t see them, but she could picture them, moving languidly, confidently, knowing she was blind and trapped. The infernal tapping noise was coming closer—so close that they must be on top of her. Jodie shrank down close to the ground and balled her hands into fists, even though she knew her flesh would be useless against rigid ceramic.

  A whirring noise shocked her, and she opened her eyes. While the lights in her own shop stayed cold, the main centre lights flickered back to life. They couldn’t illuminate her store completely, but it was enough, and Jodie risked raising her head.

  She was surrounded. Hands extended towards her, faces leaned close, and bodies barred her path. But they’d frozen. It’s the light. They can’t move in the light.

  Cold radiated off their ceramic. Jodie shrank as far from the grasping hands as she could, her mind scrambling for an escape. If she could just get outside the store and find a place with lights and other people…

  The shutter doors were locked, though, and the keys had been stolen. The store windows were reinforced to prevent breaking, and there was no other exit. Except…

  Jodie’s eyes landed on the door to the storeroom. If she could get through the back room and down the concrete hallways, she would be able to make it to the center court, where the movie theatre would still be open.. And that meant light and company and safety.

  They’re slow. She glanced back at the empty faces leering down at her. Surely I can outrun them.

  The light only penetrated into the first few feet of the store, though. From there to the back room was a mess of shadows.

  Go, Jodie urged herself as desperation battled with fear that had frozen her to the ground. Go, before the lights go out again. Go, go!

  There was no way to push past the mannequins without touching them, so Jodie pulled herself to her feet and threw herself over the top of the service desk, tumbling to the floor on the other side. Her weak legs held her, and she began running between the racks, dodging the clothes on the ground that the mannequins had shed. Her hand latched onto the handle of the stockroom door, and she twisted it, pausing just long enough to glance over her shoulder. The mannequins had turned their heads to watch her progress. Jodie swore as she slipped through the door and pulled it shut behind her.

  Apparently, the generator didn’t power the back sections of the shops; the storeroom was dark, and there was no sign of light coming from under the door leading to the concrete passageways. Jodie fumbled in her pocket for her phone, but it was empty.

  Where…? Of course, on the front desk—with everything else from my bag.

  Jodie moved forward, feeling her way along the shelves, until she found the one she knew held the store’s branded bags. The quiet squeal of a door being opened sent Jodie’s heart into her throat as she felt around the box’s base, searching for Allie’s phone, and a gasp escaped her as her fingers fixed on the cool metal. She swiped it on, and the weak light spread through the room, illuminating the high-stacked boxes, the layby bags, the piles of clothes… and the mannequin, standing just behind her.

  She backed away from it, keeping her light focussed on its face. Its eyes followed her from inside the shadowed hollows below its brow. Jodie reached her spare hand behind herself, feeling for the door that led to the hallways. Grasping the handle, she pulled it open.

  The concrete passageway spread to her left and her right. The right path would take her towards the grocery store at one end of the centre. The left path led to the loading docks, the centre court, and the movie theatre. She turned the door’s lock before closing it, hoping it might delay the mannequins for at least a moment, then she ran. The motion made it impossible to hold the light steady, and it flashed across the stained concrete floor and dark chipped walls in erratic bursts.

  Scraping, dragging, and creaking noises came from behind her. She tried shining the light over her shoulder, hoping that would slow them down, but she nearly tripped in the darkness. Doors on either side of her led into different stores; most of them were locked, she knew, and the ones that weren’t locked would lead her back to the quiet parts of the centre.

  The noises were growing closer, becoming louder, echoing off the concrete and blending with the sound of her slapping feet. She didn’t dare stop, but sucked breaths into her dry, sticky lungs as stress and exertion caused a stitch in her side. Not far now. Just the next left—

  A white shape loomed out of the darkness, filling the hallway she’d been aiming for, and Jodie skidded backwards, gasping. Her hands shook almost too badly to hold the light on the mannequin that had taken
one of the backways to block her path.

  The loading dock! Get outside, into the parking lot. Run for the centre court!

  Jodie turned, using her momentum to swing herself down the opposite hallway, towards the loading dock, towards the place her nightmare had started. A flash of lightning ahead told her the doors were open—someone must be waiting for a delivery that night—and she raced for them, barely pausing to breathe. A new sound was building and pressing against her eardrums: torrential rain pounded the asphalt as the storm spent itself over the centre.

  As she leapt into the vast concrete room, another flash of lightning gave her a split-second view of the parking lot. She couldn’t see a single car. The rain was coming at a sharp angle, heavy enough to obscure the trees grown by the ends of the parking rows. Litter, leaves, and even small branches that had been stripped off the trees whipped across the asphalt, gripped by terrific winds.

  Jodie lowered her head as she dashed under the loading dock doorway. Icy rain stung her face, blinding her, clinging to her hair, and slipping down her neck. It drenched her in no time at all, and she struggled to keep up her speed with the wet clothes flapping around her and a stitch digging into her side.

  The centre was shaped like a boomerang, with the parking lot nestled against the inside curve, and Jodie could see the lights at the opposite end—with the movie theatre and food courts—shining through the rain. Trying to block out the sensation that she wasn’t running alone, she focussed on the light, blinking furiously as the rain dripped into her eyes and plastered her hair across her face.

  She no longer tried to control the light from Allie’s phone, but it flashed around her as she pumped her arms. For a split second, the light landed on a ghostly shape running abreast of her.

 

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