Madness at Madison Mall
Page 12
Tracey shrugged and cracked a smile – a nervous smirk. She said, “I'm sorry, sweetie, but I have no idea what you're talking about.”
Isaac opened his mouth to speak, ready to berate his girlfriend, but he bit his tongue instead. He narrowed his eyes as he examined his girlfriend's figure. Tracey's stomach protruded forward, away from the rest of her torso. As far as he could tell, the extra flesh was not fake – and it was not fat. She was pregnant.
Isaac whispered, “Is it... Is it really that day? Did it take me... Shit, did it take me back?” He glanced over his shoulder – the door to the mall remained in the alley. Isaac whispered, “It's like a time machine or something. It's not fake...”
The guard glanced back at his girlfriend as Tracey simpered. She twisted her hips from side to side, puckish.
She said, “It's not fake, Isaac. We're back to that dreadful day on these horrible stairs. It took you long enough to remember, but at least it was quicker than the others. I guess I should be... 'proud' of that.” In a blatantly sarcastic tone, she said, “You didn't completely block this memory, whoop-dee-doo.”
Isaac asked, “Why did you bring me here? Why... Why did the mall bring me back here of all places?”
“Come on, hun. You're not that stupid, are you? You're here because this is one of those places where you showed your true colors. You committed a horrible crime here. This is where you unleashed the monster you hide inside of you. That's why you're here. Think of it like... A Christmas Carol, except it's all in the past, it's filled with monsters, and you're still an asshole.”
Isaac shook his head as Tracey giggled. He was still trying to grasp the situation – trying to find his footing in a gloomy abyss. He had been through several court cases and he was counseled by a dozen lawyers in the past. Their legal advice continued to echo through his mind: always uphold your innocence, never self-incriminate.
Isaac said, “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Don't play dumb now, hun. You remember these stairs, don't you? You remember my little 'accident,' right? If you don't, you're an even bigger asshole than I thought. I mean, you might have some real issues, babe.”
“I told you: I had nothing to do with that. It wasn't my fault, it wasn't your fault. It was an accident. It was a... an unfortunate accident. It was a tragedy, but you're going to have to move on someday. Please, just drop this – whatever this is. Forget about it, sweetie. It'll be better for you.”
“Forget about it? You mean like you forgot about all the rotten shit you did to the people around you. That sounds convenient. Maybe I'll try to forget about you. It would work so much better if you were dead, though. What do you think? Can you die for me, hun? Can you make my life easier?”
Isaac lowered his head and said, “Don't say that. Drop this... this... this hunt. Drop it so we can move on with our lives – so we can be normal people. I don't want any of this anymore. It's crazy.”
Tracey puckered her lips and glanced up at the sky, as if she were deeply considering Isaac's request. She twirled her hips and hummed, tilting her head left-and-right. She wasted time, building up unnecessary tension for the man she despised. She wanted him to tremble like a wet dog, she wanted him to sweat bullets like a man standing before a judge, she wanted him to defecate like the dead before their deaths.
Tracey smirked and said, “I'll think about it. Normal people? I don't know. I guess it sounds nice.”
The mischievous woman lunged over two stairs, stepping closer to her boyfriend. She twisted her foot as she stepped on the edge of each stair on her tiptoes, barely keeping her balance. She playfully spun in place, daring a gust of wind to push her down the staircase. She couldn't help but bite her tongue and giggle as she lived on the edge – literally.
Isaac leaned forward, ready to catch his girlfriend if she fell. He said, “Be careful, Tracey. Shit, you don't want to fall out here. You don't want to do this. You're not thinking straight. You're confused because of... because of all of the shit we've been through. Please, calm down. Don't do anything stupid.”
Teary-eyed, Tracey smiled and said, “That's so sweet of you. I didn't know you cared so much about me.” She rubbed her stomach and said, “About us.”
Isaac barked, “Stop it! Stop talking about it! It's not real! Okay? You're not pregnant anymore. It's over, Tracey. Do you understand that? It's over. It wasn't meant to be. This... Whatever this is, it won't change anything. We'll be in the same position tomorrow as we were yesterday. Move on and let me leave this damn mall before I get angry.”
“Are you threatening me, hun? You shouldn't be threatening me. It won't work. I'm not scared. It happened once, maybe twice–”
“I told you: I had nothing to do with it.”
Tracey continued, “And, it'll happen again.”
***
Tracey held her hand over her mouth as she simpered. She widened her eyes and mouth, pretending to be shocked, then she waved at her boyfriend. Isaac furrowed his brow, baffled by her peculiar behavior. He welcomed her departure as long as the couple split ways on good terms. He wanted to tame the madness and escape from the mall more than he sought to repair their broken relationship.
As Isaac opened his mouth to speak, Tracey winked and fell back. She rolled down the stone stairs, bouncing off the sharp edges like a rag doll. The unnerving sound of bones crunching, like the sound of autumn leaves crackling under heavy boots, echoed through the neighborhood. She stopped as she hit the back of her head on the concrete floor at the bottom of the stairs. The thud, like the sound of a watermelon hitting the kitchen floor, reverberated through the city.
Isaac staggered to his feet, tightly gripping the handrail. He was awed by the unexpected tumble. The stairs were smeared with blood. Tracey lay at the bottom of the stairs, bones protruding from her arms and legs. Blood gushed from a gash on the back of her head like water from an open fire hydrant during a hot summer, streaming across the pavement like a crimson wave at shore. She twitched and trembled uncontrollably.
Horrified, Isaac stuttered, “Trace–Tracey... Shit, Tracey, what the... what the hell did you do? What did you do?!”
As Isaac whimpered, hopeless and helpless, Tracey opened her eyes. Blood spurted from her mouth as she coughed and grunted. She giggled maniacally as she stared at her boyfriend. She was ravaged by the fall, but she didn't seem affected by the pain. She lived through hell for most of her life, so she was already numb to the world.
Tears streaming down his blushed cheeks, Isaac ran down the alleyway. He was tormented by his girlfriend's delirious laughter. He constantly glanced over his shoulder, peering towards the staircase. He hoped the truth would be revealed. A prank, he thought, it's all a prank. Tracey didn't emerge, though. Only her laughter echoed through the alley.
With rapid steps, Isaac skidded to a stop in the maintenance corridor. He inadvertently returned to the mall. He glanced over his shoulder and stared back into the alley. Before he could utter another word, the door closed by itself. He rushed back to the door, frantically knocking and shaking the knob to no avail.
Isaac shouted, “Wait! Wait, damn it! Don't leave me in here! Let me go!” He planted his moist forehead on the frigid door and sobbed. He said, “Shit. I'm sorry, Tracey. I'm sorry, Karla. I'm sorry, mom. I was wrong. I shouldn't have done any of that. I apologize. How many times do I have to say it? Huh? I'm sorry for everything. Please, just let me go.”
He slid down to his knees, enfeebled by his guilty conscience. He turned and leaned back on the door, sitting on his ass in the eerie hallway. He dug his fingers into his unkempt hair and thought about the night. His mind was clouded with pessimism and doubt. He couldn't escape his hopeless thoughts, he could not escape the abandoned shopping center.
Madison Mall had a powerful grip on the security guard and it wouldn't allow him to leave its clutches.
Chapter Twenty
Escape Route
“I'm a bad man, but I don't deserve this. I just wanted to l
ive a normal life. I didn't want to feel pain and I didn't mean to hurt anyone, but... shit happens. I just tried to make my life the best it could be. If I hurt people on the way, it... it was never on purpose. They were casualties of 'war,' collateral damage. It's supposed to be survival of the fittest, right? I shouldn't be punished for surviving,” Isaac mumbled as if he were trying to convince himself of a fallacy, unhinged.
A soft, indistinct whisper echoed through the hall, meandering like a paper boat on a tranquil lake. It wasn't an invitation from another room, though.
Isaac asked, “Who's there?”
His eyes widened as a barrage of thudding footsteps followed the echoing whisper. He crawled away from the door, frightened. He struggled to stand as he slid on the bloody floor, unable to find a decent grip. The rapid steps reverberated from the darkness, hurtling towards the security guard from the ominous shadows. It could be anything – and that terrified him.
Isaac stuttered, “Wa–Wait... Pl–Please, don't do this! Don't do this!”
As if she were running out of a bank of fog, a young girl emerged from the shadows. She ran down the hall, breathing heavily and glancing over her shoulder with every other step. Her white sundress contrasted against the fleshy walls and ominous darkness. She stopped in front of the guard, placing her hands on her knees and hunching forward as she caught her breath.
His eyes locked on the young trespasser, Isaac staggered to his knees and whispered, “Melanie...” He examined every nook and cranny on the girl's pink face. He asked, “Is... Is that you, Melanie? What have they... What are you doing here, sweetheart? How did you get here?”
Eyes full of tears, the girl said, “Daddy, I missed you.”
Isaac smiled in relief and said, “It is you. Oh, God, it really is you.”
As tears dripped from her puffy eyes, Melanie ran forward and wrapped her arms around Isaac's body. She nuzzled her father's chest as she softly whimpered. Isaac gently stroked her hair, trying to calm her with his soft touch. With the family reunion, the black cloud brewing in his mind was whisked away.
Isaac said, “I've been looking all over the place for you, sweetie. What happened? What are you doing here?”
Her face buried in her father's shirt, Melanie said, “I needed to find you. They told me about what they were going to do to you. I had to warn you. I didn't want you to get hurt.”
Isaac furrowed his brow upon hearing his daughter's worrisome explanation. His daughter had spoken to a mysterious party about a threat to his well-being. He couldn't fathom who would use his own flesh and blood against him.
His hands on her shoulders, the guard knelt down in front of his daughter. He gazed into her moist eyes, lost in her innocence.
He asked, “Who did you talk to, Melanie? What did they say?”
“I talked to... to your new girlfriend and two other girls. I don't know the others, though.”
Isaac glanced down at himself and whispered, “Tracey, Karla, and my mom...” He shook his head, baffled – one of them was dead, so the theory didn't make sense. He glanced back at Melanie and asked, “What did they say? What are they planning?”
“I'm sorry. I don't know everything, dad. They want to hurt you. They–They said they wanted to punish you. I wanted to help you. I'm sorry for being here. I just don't want you to get hurt. I don't–”
“It's okay, sweetie. You did the right thing. Let's just worry about getting you out of here. Sound good?”
Melanie nodded in agreement. She pointed back and said, “I know a way out. We have to go fast. That man is still walking around down here.”
“That man?” Isaac repeated in an uncertain tone.
“They call him 'Bugaboo.' Come on, follow me.”
Melanie ran down the hall, leading her father into the darkness. Isaac didn't have the opportunity to question his daughter's role in the plot. He wanted to learn about her connection to Bugaboo, too. Yet, he understood the dangers lurking in Madison Mall. He followed closely behind Melanie, jogging at a brisk pace.
***
Walls pulsating around him, oozing blood like pus from pimples, Isaac jogged down the grotesque hallway. He followed his daughter's lead, keeping the child in his sight. The world was surreal. He felt like he was running through a nightmare, searching for an alarm clock so he could finally awaken. He was only certain of his daughter's existence.
Melanie was the alarm clock – she was his escape route.
As the pair ran down the seemingly endless corridor, running past dozens of identical doors, ghastly groans and chilling whispers emerged in the hallway. The whispers seeped through the cracks on the doors, meandering through the hall like gossip in a classroom. The overlapping voices belonged to men and women.
The trapped security guard recognized the voices from his troubled past. His mother, his underage girlfriend, and his current lover were not the only people he wronged.
Between breaths, Isaac whispered, “You can't... do this... to me.”
Isaac's eyes widened as he spotted the fork in the road. The corridor branched off into two hallways – one on the left, the other on the right. Melanie stopped at the edge of the wall, skidding to a stop before the turn. She poked her head from around the corner to her left, then she quickly retreated – startled.
She glanced back at Isaac and whispered, “He's there.”
Isaac stared into his daughter's eyes, reading the fear in her soul. He took a deep breath, then he leaned around the corner. He narrowed his eyes, trying his best to penetrate the darkness. The sound of scraping was faint, but the noise increased with each passing second. The sound of heavy chains clinking and clanking joined the symphony of madness.
Like a demon surfacing from the depths of hell, scorched and lusting for blood, Bugaboo emerged from the darkness. The man with the cow head dragged his handy sledgehammer in his right hand and held the chains in his left. The chains were different, though. The chains were wrapped around three nude female bodies.
Even through the darkness, Isaac could identify the bodies as his trio of scorned women – his mother, Karla, and Tracey.
Isaac retreated from the hall, hiding behind the throbbing wall. He pulled Melanie away from the corridor, too. He didn't want the young girl to see his bogeyman or the tortured women. He wasn't the best father, he wasn't even a decent man, but he tried his best to protect his daughter. He hurt people, but he loved Melanie.
Isaac knelt down and whispered, “Tell me that's not the way out.”
Melanie shook her head and said, “No. It's the other way. We have to run. We can't let him catch us.”
“I know, I know. But, where are we going? Where are you taking me?”
“Just follow me, daddy. It's only a few doors that way. Come on.”
Isaac grimaced as Melanie heedlessly darted down the hall to the right. The sound of her sandals slapping the floor was loud. The guard glanced down the corridor to the left, then he gasped.
Bugaboo jogged down the hall, the floor vibrating beneath his feet. The nostrils on his cow head flared, as if the head were fully functional.
Isaac slipped and slid as he ran down the opposite hall and followed his daughter. He could barely keep up with Melanie. She was unusually fast in the hellish maintenance area. From his limited experience, he knew his daughter wasn't very athletic. She was a bookworm, not an athlete. Her surge in stamina was disquieting.
Yet, the shrill scraping and husky breathing behind him was much more worrisome.
Despite exerting all of his energy, the scraping and the breathing grew louder with each passing second – Isaac couldn't outrun him. He could feel a moist breath on the nape of his neck, breathing down his spine and caressing his hair. Like dedicated athletes on the track, the man and the monster were neck-and-neck, sprinting towards the finish line.
Panting, Isaac muttered, “Please... let it end. Please... let me... let me live.”
Melanie pushed a door open, then she glanced back and beckoned to her fathe
r. She shouted, “In here! Hurry!”
Face twitching with joy, Isaac nervously smiled as he spotted the finish line. Light poured through the doorway and washed the grimy floors with a yellow glow. Light triumphs over darkness, light always defeats evil–he thought.
As Isaac stumbled through the doorway, Melanie slammed the door and sealed Bugaboo in the corridor.
***
Isaac slowly shook his head as he examined his surroundings, astonished. The young man found himself standing inside of a small church. He stood towards the center of the nave, surrounded by rows and rows of pews. The altar was located directly down the aisle, illuminated by a dozen candles. A neighboring podium was also bestrewn with candles. The flickering flames danced, swinging like hips in a club.
The security guard stared down at his boots and contemplated the situation. He counted the cracks on the moldering hardwood floorboards, trying to keep his mind occupied. He couldn't help it, though. He thought about the role of the church in the plot for vengeance, he thought about Melanie's true intentions.
Would a child deceive her own father for the greater good?
Isaac glanced back at Melanie. He asked, “Why did you bring me here?”
Melanie clasped her hands behind her back, twirling in place like a bashful child. She said, “I had to.”
“Why? Why did you bring me here, Melanie? Did your mother make you do this? Huh? Did she team up with Tracey and plan this whole thing out? Was this all some sick plan to... to... I don't even know what the hell is going on. What is the point of all of this?”
“It's not their fault, daddy. They're hurt, so they wanted to hurt you, too. It doesn't have to end like that, though. You can still stop it. You can end everything now. It's really easy. I promise. Please, don't be scared.”
Isaac clenched his jaw and stepped in reverse. He carefully examined his daughter. Melanie's face was shifting before his very eyes. Her face became droopy and gooey, as if it were melting off of her skull. Her figure – height, weight, aura – still resembled his daughter, but she changed. The faceless child stood at the center of the aisle, waiting for her father's response.