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Hellscape Mall. Weirdest name for a mall that I’ve ever heard of, but I guess it’s on theme for a small town in the middle of the desert named Death Canyon City. That said, for its name, I would have expected something a bit creepier in appearance. Bright fluorescent colors of the lit-up signs distract from the yellowish paint used on the walls so that the nicotine stains from their numerous smoking customers aren’t so noticeable. Frankly, it looks much like any other mall I’ve been to.

The food court itself is a riot of eye-bleeding colors slapped disharmoniously together and is filled with smells that make my stomach grumble in complaint even as I try to silence it with another, larger, sip of coffee. The coffee will have to do for now, at least until the mall closes. Afterward, I can break into one of the kitchens to find something to satisfy my belly. I’m not particularly proud that I have to resort to stealing food, but a girl has to do what a girl has to do. It’s better than the alternative. I have nothing against the girls who peddle their wares at thestreet corners in the bigger towns and cities I’ve been through, but I’d much rather just steal what I need rather than resort to that method of feeding myself. There is a lot my parents believe about me ever since I decided to eschew family traditions and started living my life, some of which ended up being true, but I’ll be damned if I make that one a reality.

I try to make the coffee last as long as possible as I wander around but, all too soon, I’m down to the last bit in the paper cup. I down the rest and give the cup an unhappy sigh before tossing it in the trash can. Pulling my hot pink scrunchy out, I sweep my hair back into a tight, high ponytail at the top of my head and secure it once more. The feathery ends of my old perm tease my neck as my head tips, and I peer at the sign with a maniacally grinning, cartoon coyote. Coyote’s End Funhouse. I chuckle to myself. Okay, not bad. That is a bit morbid. Moreover, the smell of cheap pizza, cigs, and booze, and the scream of what I assume is children’s laughter do little to counter the ominous feeling the arcade gives me. It emanates from the place like a thick haze that sends a little shiver up my spine. Not bad at all.

Okay. Perhaps this mall wasn’t quite like other malls. Though it’s obviously subtle, I dig the dark atmosphere. Very rock and roll. As busy as it appears to be, it also looks like a good spot to hole up for the day. It’s unlikely that anyone will notice me loitering there with all that madness going on inside. Nor is anyone likely to notice when I slip into the restroom to wait it out while the mall closes. That’s my regular method, and it seldom fails me.

Deeply breathing in the riot of smells, I step inside as if I belong there. Just another paying customer. Music fills the air that is pleasantly creepy in tone despite its somewhat jovial lyrics. A game nearby lets out a death scream that makes me jump, and I clench a hand to my chest and laugh. Wow, this place is great!

Noting a family vacating their spot, I slide in and lick my lips as I examine the untouched slices remaining on the pan. They are stone cold and there isn’t much left over. Even the soda remaining in the pitcher looks flat as hell, but I’m not going to scorn my good fortune. Grabbing a slice, I take a healthy bite, my eyes following the movement of the people around me. As expected, no one even looks my way, much less approaches me. I find a few coins and play some games, all of which have a surprising monstrous theme. It’s enough to keep me entertained until I see my cue to tuck into my hiding place. Families are packing up, and the older children who were dropped off are slowly detaching from the place and melting back into the mall.

It won’t be much longer now.

I slip into the bathroom, and I immediately gag. It smells disgusting, like someone recently puked in here. It’s entirely bogus, but I ignore it as I duck into a stall. Sitting on the toilet, I prop my feet on the stall’s closed door in front of me and slide my backpack off. I immediately put it in my lap and unzip the top to pull my headphones out. It only takes me a minute to rifle through my coveted mixtapes before I select my favorite and slide it into my Walkman’s tape-deck. I smile and lean my head back on the wall behind me as the world is muffled out by my music. I spent tireless hours making each tape, perched next to my boombox just waiting for the right songs to come on the radio so that I could record them. My music had resulted in the first major blowout—the first of many—between me and my parents. Demon music, they called it, their eyes rounding worriedly as they turned it off at every opportunity as if that would somehow miraculously make my love for it vanish.

My nose wrinkles disdainfully at the memory. Demon music. Ha! The joke is on my parents because if demons like rock and roll, then they can’t be that bad as far as I’m concerned.

My foot bounces a little in time with the music, my head bobbing. I pause and frown, moving one headphone off my ear when I think I hear a strange sound. I shrug when it doesn’t repeat and plop it back into place. Whatever, man.

I stay in that putrid stall for an hour or two, waiting until long after the last of the lights have gone out before I make my move. Zipping my backpack mostly closed, leaving just enough room for my headphone cords to have some give to it, I shoulder my backpack and slip out of the bathroom with a relieved sharp inhale of fresh-ish air.

As fresh as a pizza-arcade joint in the mall can be, anyway.

Humming along with the music, I make my way from the restrooms in the back through the labyrinth of games. I am briefly debating whether or not I want to dip into the kitchen here to look for more filling sustenance or hunt something out a little quicker and easier someplace else when I feel a strange tickle at the back of my neck. Stopping in my tracks, my eyes sweep around the arcade warily. It feels like I’m being watched. Creepy, I can handle. Creepy, I love. Being watched in a darkened arcade, abandoned for the night, goes straight from creepy to hell no.

“Yeah... no, I’m out,” I whisper, my gaze making for the entrance. Surprisingly, the grate at the entrance is still wide open to the dark interior of the mall. I feel a prickle of unease as I book it out of there.

The soles of my funky ankle boots scuff just a little too loudly as I race for the entrance, and my heart slams a staccato rhythm in my chest. A terrible, unnatural sound that I can’t quite identify rises behind me as if something is rising out of the gloom to hunt me. I desperately want to scream, but I swallow it back as I slide gracelessly out the door. Just as quickly as it started, the sound cuts off, leaving the entire mall silent except for the sound of my pulse thrumming loudly in my ears and thefaint music from my headphones banging out the rhythm of one of my favorite songs from where they now hang loose around my neck.

Biting back a nervous laugh, I give Coyote’s End Funhouse one last fleeting look before striking back into the mall again. My stomach rumbles loudly, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything all day except the meager slices of cold pizza. Food it is, and then I will explore a bit before finding a suitable place to bed down. That’s one thing about malls. If you are sharp enough to evade security, it is a hell of a safer spot to sleep than out there on the street.

I slink at a more unhurried pace down the dark hall, picking up my pace momentarily when I come nearer to a store called Forgotten Antiquities. The antique store, which only gave me a pleasant buzz of something vaguely horror-esque in the light of day, feels even more threatening in the gloom as if something is rattling dangerously inside. Not one to commit dumb horror movie cliches, I run past it and don’t stop until I turn out from the hall into the main part of the mall again. The aura of the place is a bit more settled here even if the carousel looms like something from an abandoned carnival, casting long, monstrous shadows. It overshadows the food court just beyond it. I give the carousel horse with oddly sharp-looking teeth a wide berth as I make my way back into the midst of the food court.

Taking my place at the center, I survey my options. The Good Char is the closest to my right. I peer at it speculatively, the smell of hot dogs and grease clinging to the air. It looks promising. Pulling a small hatchet from my backpack that doubles as a deterrent for those with less than innocent intentions for me, I smash the lock with the back end of the blade and lift the security grate just high enough to squeeze through before lowering it again.

The scent of food is deliciously thicker inside, but I can’t seem to figure out how to work the grill, which has a menacing aura to it, anyway. Stepping close to it feels like walking to the edge of an abyss. There is an unnatural heat to it, as if the fires are lit and burning, though it seems to be off. The haunted grill is out, then. I consider the deep fryer for only a minute before I realize that it’s fruitless without the batter to fry a dog. Batter that I obviously have no clue how to make. Cue the sad violin. I give it a disappointed look but leave The Good Char to raid the bakery across the way instead. Upon giving its lock the same treatment, I come up with a few forgotten stale donuts for my trouble. Shoving one in my mouth, I wander further into the mall to find a relatively comfortable place to crash. It’s safer than sleeping on the street, and I’m locked in here until sun-up, anyway.

Heading down another hall, I pause in front of a comic book store. Although the outward-facing shelves are lined with horror comics, there is an orderly sort of quiet to it that seems almost inviting. It could be the fact that an entire corner is left empty for an enormous fern that’s obviously been babied to grow to such proportions despite the limited store space—which, in a mall, is always at a premium. Smiling, I “let myself in.” This looks like a good place to bunk down for the night. A thousand apologies for the lock, but at least I can anticipate sleeping well tonight.

Chapter 3

Pashar

Ipride myself on knowing everything that goes on in my shop, even when I’m resting within my den. It highly benefits me that nightmare demons are armed with a variety of skills when it comes to spell-working and manipulating energies. Not only is that what allows me to create my comic books, but it’s what gives me a very effective alarm system with the network of energies I leave in place every night when I return home. The tremble of energy announcing the presence of an intruder brings a scowl to my face as I heave myself off my very comfortable reclining chair, one that I rightfully liberated from the mortal realm several weeks ago, and storm toward the portal.

I’m half naked, I don’t have my glamour in place, and I don’t give a flying fuck. It is a welcome opportunity to scare the piss out of whatever idiot decided to invade my territory. Besides, it’s the middle of the night. Who would believe them?

I smile nastily to myself, my corethi trembling at the bottom of folded wings, and I step out into my stockroom. With an impatient growl, I enter my shop, my eyes falling on the sleeping form curled up suicidally close to Chewy’s barrier. My eyes snap to the plant. Several of its pod-like heads are visible on their long stalks as their petals unfurl, their sharp teeth clearly visible in their gaping mouths. My gaze drops to the long, uncoiled vine that is inching closer to the sleeping human huddled under a thin blanket. I’m a bit shocked that it’s not one of the heavily barbed vines utilized to flay and weaken Chewy’s victims, butI still don’t hesitate to snarl threateningly, stopping her in her tracks. I want a terrified human, not a dead one. Unsanctioned deaths from nightmare demons requires more paperwork than I want to deal with on my vacation.

Heads tipping toward me, the vine rapidly retreats back into her foliage with a snap. I squint at her suspiciously for a moment as her mouths move slightly as if whimpering in protest. I should have destroyed her the moment she hitched a ride with me to this world. The infernal lords damn that soft spot in my black heart.

Grumbling, I give the human a brisk nudge with my foot. I’m not at all pleased that they inconvenienced me and then had the nerve to fall asleep before I could get up here and terrify them good and proper.

I purr with satisfaction as the human lets out a shrill squeak in response, their eyes flying open as they roll to face me, their blanket falling away. My snarl slips slightly in surprise as I meet the honey-brown gaze of a petite female staring up in complete shock at me. Her golden complexion pales as she stares at me in abject horror. It’s only then that I consider the sight I must be, snarl fixed in place, corethi looming threateningly around from where they’ve emerged, my exceptionally long tail lashing in the air around me. It’s for that reason that I’m not at all surprised when she manages to stop choking on her scream long enough to let it out in an ear-piercing shriek. I’m also acutely aware that it will draw attention from the night security guard, and I can’t have that.

Her slender fingers scrabble against the floor as she tries to scurry away from me, but she isn’t fast enough to evade my tail. I snag her effortlessly before she can get more than a foot away and haul her up from the floor with ease as my tail winds more firmly around her body, holding her aloft in the air in front of me. My mouth waters at the scent of her skin. It strikes aconsiderable hunger within me, but not for tearing flesh from her dainty bones. But it is her expression that is giving me a moment of concern.

Her mouth is still wide open, but her scream seems to have lodged within her again now that I have a hold on her, and I’m starting to worry that she’s stopped breathing. I poke her with one finger in the belly, and a terrible sound erupts from her all at once. It is a strange lovechild of a strangled shriek and a reactive giggle that is both horrifying and amusing. Wincing a little, and fighting to hold back a chuckle of my own at the terrible sound, I shrug. I’ll just carry her out and throw her on her little rear end personally and be done with it. There are strict rules regarding holding unsanctioned humans, and more paperwork than there is for killing them. Which is sad because she seems like a tasty little thing.