by Jon Athan
Isaac whispered, “Please, please, please...”
He stopped tugging on the window and glanced over his shoulder. The sound of groaning floorboards and scraping wood echoed into the bedroom from the hallway. The ruckus grew louder with each step until a figure blocked the light under the door. The door slowly swung open, the hinges squealing with each inch.
Astonished, Isaac stood from the bed and stuttered, “It–It's you. It really is you.”
Bugaboo stood in the doorway, swaying with each hiccup. The muscular man roamed the home without a shirt, solely donning his navy work pants and boots. Although he was clearly not at the slaughterhouse for work, the man lugged a sledgehammer around the home. The cow head from Isaac's nightmares was gone.
Bugaboo had a bald head and a clean-shaved face. His brown eyes were surrounded by vibrant webs of red veins, bloodshot due to his excessive drinking. More than half of his nose was missing, reduced to a nub due to an accident at the slaughterhouse. The middle-aged man appeared exhausted, drunk, and malevolent.
Isaac fell to his knees and clasped his hands in front of his chest. He said, “I'm sorry, daddy. I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone. I don't know why I acted like that. I was... I was stupid. I know it's my fault, but don't hurt me. Please, don't hit me again. I'll be good from now on, I swear. I'll do better. Please, give me one more chance.”
Bugaboo, Isaac's abusive father and personal punisher, remained silent. Only his husky open-mouth breathing echoed through the room. He swayed a bit with each breath, too. The alcohol flowing through his veins took a toll on his physical well-being. The man simply stared at his son. His blank expression was difficult to read.
Isaac crawled forward and said, “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, dad. I shouldn't have reported you. I should have saved mom, I know, but I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't take the... the... the abuse and the loneliness. I had to get away somehow. It was a mistake, though. Just like what I did to Karla and Tracey. I shouldn't have done any of that. Please, forgive me. Let me go. Don't... Don't do this.”
Teary-eyed, Isaac glanced up at his father. The man stared down at him. He didn't respond, but the fury burning in his eyes was evident. Bugaboo was angry and someone had to be punished. Unfortunately, Isaac was the only person in the room. As a matter of fact, he was the only living person in the entire home.
Isaac grimaced and stuttered, “You–You're not going to let me go, are you?” Scowling, Bugaboo slowly shook his head. Isaac said, “I... I understand. I get it now. If–If... If this is how it has to end, then so be it. Go ahead. End the nightmare so I can finally sleep. Finish it. That's... That's what I want. Deep down, it's... it's what I've always wanted. Take me away from this world, dad. Come on, end it.”
Bugaboo gritted his teeth as he watched Isaac. His eyes were filled with hatred, glowing with a deviant sparkle. The mere sight of the young man made him furious. His son was partly responsible for the death of his wife and his subsequent imprisonment for child abuse. He was the persistent thorn in his side, always pricking at his patience.
The violent man didn't feel any sympathy for his son. He was disgusted by the young man's groveling. He raised his son to hide his emotions and fight back. He only felt rage and disappointment as he watched him sob and beg. As such an evil entity, killing his own flesh and blood was not difficult. In fact, he was eager to finish the job.
Bugaboo lifted the sledgehammer over his head as he glared at Isaac. As Isaac whimpered with his head down, the bogeyman struck down with all of his might. The head of the hammer struck the back of Isaac's head, cracking his skull with a single blow.
Isaac fell down to the hardwood floor, falling limp in an instant. The young man violently convulsed on the floor. His legs shook and his body trembled uncontrollably. Blood gushed from the back of his head, coursing across his dome and plopping on the floor. He could feel the warm blood streaming across his cheeks and forehead, cascading over his eyelids like a warm wave at a shore.
A tingling sensation swept across his entire body, as if an army of ants were scurrying across his skin. His eyelids flickered and his teeth chattered. He couldn't hear anything in the room due to his ringing ears. He felt pressure in his head, too, as if his brain were growing in his skull – preparing to burst. He panted, struggling to control his breathing.
Bugaboo inhaled deeply through his mouth as he gazed at his son's bloody dome. He groaned a ghastly moan as he lifted the sledgehammer over his head. Using all of his weight, he struck down at the back of his son's head again. The unnerving thud and crunch echoed through the apartment, meandering across the nightmarish realm.
With the second blow, Isaac stopped moving.
Bugaboo sneered in disgust as Isaac's blood streamed towards his boots. He stepped in reverse as he stared at his slain son. His objective in Madison Mall was completed: he punished his son. He shambled down the hall, dragging his handy sledgehammer behind him, then he walked down the stairs.
Where it all began, it ended.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The End
The police lights cycled between red and blue, illuminating the security post and the chain-link fence. Aside from the occasional passing vehicle and some chattering, the area was tranquil. The group of teenage trespassers made their case to a police officer, begging for leniency. Lester, the homeless man, slumbered in the backseat of a police cruiser, handcuffed and ready to go.
David leaned on the security post as he stared at the mall with a set of inquisitive eyes. He leaned towards his right and stared into the adjacent parking lot. He searched the dark and desolate property for his partner. The clock reached midnight and his fellow security guard had not yet emerged from the eerie shopping center. The child in the mall didn't escape, either.
David pressed the push-to-talk button on his walkie-talkie and said, “Isaac. Isaac, can you hear me? Where the hell are you, man? The police are already here. They're waiting for backup before they go inside – if they go inside. If you can hear me, you have to give me a sign. Let us know where you're at, let us know you're okay.”
He held the walkie-talkie up to his ear, hoping to receive a response. Even the croak of a word would suffice. Unfortunately, Isaac wasn't able to respond from the horrifying depths of Madison Mall. The tranquility suddenly felt much more eerie. The cold breeze had a human presence, like a lost soul dancing with the wind.
David glanced over his shoulder as a black town car pulled into the lot. The car went around the police cruiser, then it stopped under the security post light. The young guard could see Lewis shuffling about in the driver's seat. He tossed on his coat, then he ran his fingers through his hair. His hair was tousled and his suit was disheveled due to his sudden awakening.
As he stepped out of his car, Lewis smiled and asked, “How's it going, Mr. Cho? I understand we have a bit of a problem on our hands. How serious is it?”
David explained, “Listen, Lewis. We went in there looking for these teenagers. We found them and this homeless man over here, but Isaac thought there was a little girl in there, too. So, I escorted these trespassers off of the property and waited for the police while Isaac continued searching for the girl. The problem is: he's been in there for hours and he's not responding to my calls. I don't know if he's trapped or hurt or... I just don't know what happened.”
Lewis stared down at his shoes as he thought about the peculiar explanation. He said, “A little girl... Did you see the girl?”
“No, but, I mean, he was right about the teenagers, so I figured he was right about the girl.”
“I see. Have you gone back inside to look for him? The radios can, at times, have bad signal in this area. Did you at least call out to him from the entrance? Did you return to Madison Mall?”
David stuttered, “I–I couldn't. I had to watch the kids and wait for the cops. I... I did what he asked me to do. I didn't know what else–”
Lewis held his index finger up, calling for silence with the gestu
re. David sucked his lips inward and nodded, trying to recompose himself. His mind was muddled, flooded with a million excuses for his lack of action. Yet, honesty seemed to be his best bet. Lies would only cause him to become entangled in a sticky situation.
Lewis asked, “Can you go inside and look for him? Please?”
David stared at his boss, eyes wide with fear. He shook his head and clenched his jaw. The expression on his face read: hell no!
Lewis furrowed his brow and asked, “Why not?”
David coughed to clear his throat, then he said, “Well, I didn't want to say anything, but... Well, Isaac was acting a little strange in there. I caught him talking to himself, he vanished without saying a word... He was acting strange, okay? I tried to shrug it off and tell him it was nothing, but I was lying. I felt something in there, too. It wasn't right, Lewis. That mall isn't right. I don't think I can go back in there.”
Lewis could see the unadulterated fear lingering in his employee's eyes. He sighed and frowned, disappointed. He turned his attention towards the mall and contemplated his next move. One way or another, he would have to find his employee and remove him from the property. He couldn't rely on his only remaining security guard, so he would have to use other resources.
As he stared at the abandoned mall, Lewis said, “Isaac Luna has some serious issues in his life, David. He carries a very heavy burden on his shoulders. If I had to guess, I'd say the young man secretly left the mall and headed home because he couldn't handle the pressure. You said it yourself: he was acting erratically. I'm sure stress had a significant hand in our little situation here. I'm also sure he'll call me in the morning. Don't worry about it. I don't want you to suffer from the same stress he suffers from.”
David asked, “What are you going to do if he doesn't report back? What if he's still in the mall? He could be hurt, sir. And, if there really was a kid in there, she could be hurt, too.”
“Try to relax, David. If he doesn't contact me, I'll contact him. If we cannot communicate in one way or another, I'll talk to the police. I'll inform them about the supposed child trespasser, too. Considering your experience in there and the condition of the mall, I think we should wait until sunrise if we're going to search the place. We don't want to lose anyone else and we certainly don't want anyone to get hurt. Does that sound good to you, son?”
“Yeah... Yeah, sure.”
“If it helps you feel better, you can join them in the morning. I wouldn't want you to suffer from a guilty conscience. The choice will be completely up to you, though. I won't force your hand. In the meantime, try to get some rest. I'll talk to you in a few. I should talk to the police about this now.”
Lewis patted David's shoulder, then he strolled away from the security post. David watched as his boss approached the whimpering teenagers and the police officer. The group was clearly distraught, but they weren't frightened. The teenagers, the cop, and the boss didn't know the true meaning of horror. They didn't understand the abandoned building's sinister powers.
David swallowed the lump in his throat as he glanced back at Madison Mall. Never in his life did he imagine himself being afraid of a building. Yet, the young man found himself incapable of movement. Fear paralyzed him and he couldn't deny it.
David shook his head and whispered, “I can't go back in there. I can't let him get me. I can't let them take me...”
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Dear Reader,
Hey! Thanks for reading Madness at Madison Mall. If you've read my previous books, you probably noticed: this isn't an extreme horror novel. There are a few disturbing scenes, but this book is tame compared to my others. Therefore, I really don't think I could have offended anyone, right? Right? Well, just in case: if you were offended by the contents of this book, please accept my sincerest apologies.
Madness at Madison Mall is a supernatural-psychological horror novel. It was mainly inspired by Stephen King's The Shining and Silent Hill. In fact, if you're a fan of either, you probably noticed some of my homage scenes. Believe it or not, a few of the scenes were also inspired by my nightmares. For example, the suicide of Isaac's mother was a nightmare I had. I still remember seeing a woman swinging from a ceiling fan.
I worked hard on trying to make this a symbolic book. So, although some parts of the story may seem out of place, everything has a meaning. I want to leave most of the book up to interpretation, but I'll give you a few examples. The fleshy maintenance corridor is supposed to be a crevice of Isaac's brain. As you read, he appears to be traveling through his guilty conscience. The corridor can also be interpreted as a sexual organ. In one way or another, most of his crimes are sexual crimes.
Bugaboo, as revealed at the end of the book, was Isaac's abusive father. He created the cow-headed version as a child since he always thought of his father as a bogeyman. His father worked in a slaughterhouse, so he connected the cow head to his father's body. As for the mall's powers, it clearly has the ability to manipulate reality and use your conscience against you. This is the reason David doesn't want to return to the mall. Although I didn't delve into his experience, he saw his own bogeyman in the building as revealed in the last line of the book.
I worked very hard on every detail of this book. I won't reveal anything else since I want to leave some mystique. By the way, I thought this was a fun fact: the first draft of this book was actually written in April 2016. So, if my writing style feels different compared to my previous book, it's because this book is over a year old. Yes, I re-wrote the book, but the skeleton of the novel remained the same. I actually have three other novels written in 2016 that never released. Let me know if you'd like to hear more about them.
Anyway, if you enjoyed this book, please do me a big favor and leave a review on Amazon.com. Your review helps me improve on my writing and it helps me gain visibility on Amazon. In turn, more people will read my books and I can write more for everyone. This is really important to every independently published writer out there. So, if you liked this book, a review will help me release more – and it'll only take five or so minutes. This is one of my few psychological-supernatural novels. Did you enjoy it? Would you like to see more? Should I stick to extreme horror? Did you like the symbolism and themes of the book? Would you like to read another book like this from me in the future? Answering questions like these will allow me to better understand you, the reader. Your words have the power to influence my writing – please use them wisely.
Also, feel free to share this book with your friends and family. Tweet it to your followers on Twitter, share it with your friends and family on Facebook, lend it to them, or even read it to them over the phone or video chat. Birthday, holiday, or special event coming up? Buy them a copy as a gift. Word-of-mouth is a superb method in supporting independent authors – and it's mostly free.
I'm not a bestselling author. I don't have a high-paying job on the side, either. So, I sincerely appreciate your support. Every book you buy, every page you read... It's all appreciated.
Finally, if you enjoy scary stories, feel free to visit my Amazon's Author page. I've published over a dozen horror novels as well as some science-fiction/fantasy books. If you want to read my extreme horror, check out my stalker book, Erotomaniac. If you'd like to read a slasher inspired by Wes Craven's Scream and Dario Argento, check out my upcoming book The Social Media Murders—it should be out in July 2017. Keep your eyes peeled for my upcoming books since
I release a new book every month. Feel free to check out my older novels in the meantime. I really appreciate it! Once again, thank you for reading. Your readership keeps me going through the darkest times!
Until our next venture into the dark and disturbing,
Jon Athan
P.S. If you have questions (or insults), you can contact me via Twitter @Jonny_Athan, or my Facebook page, or through my business email: [email protected]. If you're an aspiring author, I'm always happy to offer a helping hand. Even if you have a simple question, don't hesitate to contact me. Thanks again!