Series
The email arrived at 11:47 PM on a Tuesday.
The email arrived at 11:47 PM on a Tuesday. Subject: Job Offer – Night Security – Urgent Start Congratulations! You have been selected for the night security position at the abandoned Sun Valley Mall. Pay: $450 per night. Cash. No taxes. Start tonight. Report to the back entrance near loading dock B. The key is under the loose brick. Do not use the front doors. Only one rule: from 2:00 AM to 3:00 AM, do not look at any of the security cameras. Keep your eyes down. Do not look up. See you inside. Marcus read the email three times. He had applied for dozens of security jobs. Most never replied. But this one? Four hundred fifty dollars for one night? That was more than he made in a week at his old job. He knew it was strange. An abandoned mall. Cash only. A rule about cameras. But his rent was late. His fridge was empty. And the email said start tonight. He drove to the mall at 1:00 AM. The parking lot was dark and cracked with weeds. The building was huge and gray. Most of the windows were broken. The only light came from a single yellow bulb above loading dock B. Marcus found the loose brick. Under it was a rusted key. He opened the small door and stepped inside. The air was cold and smelled like rain and old food. His flashlight cut through the darkness. He saw empty stores, knocked-over mannequins, and a fountain with no water. The only sound was his own footsteps and a faint buzzing from somewhere above. He looked up. Security cameras. Every thirty feet. Small black domes on the ceiling. Their red lights were on. They were recording. Marcus remembered the rule: from 2:00 AM to 3:00 AM, do not look at any of the security cameras. He checked his phone. 1:52 AM. He found a broken chair near an old food court and sat down. He kept his eyes on the floor. Eight minutes passed. Then ten. The buzzing grew louder. At 2:00 AM sharp, the lights in the mall went out. Complete darkness. His flashlight flickered once and died. He heard something move. Not a rat. Not wind. Footsteps. Slow and heavy. Coming from the second floor. Then a voice. Soft. Close to his ear. "Eyes down, new guy. Good boy." Marcus froze. Someone was standing right behind him. He could feel warm breath on his neck. But he didn't turn around. He didn't look up. The footsteps moved away. Then another sound. Clicking. Like fingernails on a camera lens. He sat in the dark for one hour. The longest hour of his life. Things walked past him. Things whispered. Something wet dripped onto his shoulder. He did not move. He did not look. At 3:00 AM, the lights flickered back on. His flashlight worked again. The buzzing stopped. Marcus ran for the door. He burst into the parking lot and sucked in the cold night air. His hands were shaking. His shirt was soaked with sweat. He looked down at his shoulder. A sticky dark liquid. Not water. Not oil. And something else. A small piece of paper stuck to his shirt. On it, written in shaky handwriting: "Good job. Same time tomorrow. Don't be late. And don't ever look up." Marcus threw the paper away and drove home. He promised himself he would never go back. But the next morning, his rent was still late. His fridge was still empty. And a new email was waiting in his phone. Subject: You're Doing Great. Here's Tonight's Bonus: $600. P.S. The cameras really enjoyed watching you last night. They want you to sit closer this time. Marcus stared at the screen. Then he looked up at the corner of his own bedroom ceiling. A small black dome. A tiny red light. It was recording.
By Esmat Zafari5 months ago in Fiction
Her (ii)
At my insistence, Mother found an old photo of my father. In it, he was stood in front of an old car, a forearm resting on the open door. He was wearing sunglasses, the top four buttons of his shirt were undone, and his hair was being lifted by a stray breeze.
By L.C. Schäfer6 months ago in Fiction
Color of Divide part 4
This is the finale for Color of Divide part 4 ending on a happy note. I wrote this, created, & edited for hours. Mirabella and Kaden marry. Kaden gets nano and robotics treatment for his legs. Mirabella graduates as Dr. Solis. The ending is the birth of their baby. I wish life had fairy tale endings.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 6 months ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '26
The gymnasium smelled faintly of floor wax and stale punch, a sensory trigger that transported Emily back to two decades of suppressed anxieties and whispered judgments. She hovered near the entrance, clutching a plastic cup like a shield against the roaring laughter of the former cheerleaders who now dominated the dance floor. Through the shimmering heat haze of nostalgia, her eyes landed on a solitary figure lurking by the refreshment table, specifically near the oversized dispenser of pink lemonade. It was Arthur, looking somewhat less guarded than he had during their senior year, yet still retaining that quiet observant posture that defined his existence in the hallways of Lincoln High.
By Forest Green6 months ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '26
"Scott," Arthur said, his voice steadier than he felt inside. "I almost didn't recognize you. You look... different." "Different," Scott repeated, raising an eyebrow and laughing again. "Speak for yourself, Mr. Fortune 500. I heard about your company. Tech something or other, making waves in Silicon Valley?" Arthur nodded, still uncomfortable with the attention even after all these years, still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the warmth to curdle into the mockery he had come to expect from people who had known him at his lowest.
By Forest Green6 months ago in Fiction
Villain in the World. Content Warning.
“Forgive me." A fractured glimpse of a broken memory surged through his mind. It was sharp and haunting, but vanished into the void just like it was. A single teardrop fell on the back of his left hand. The teardrop was cool and heavy, but also silent to him. He turned his eyes to it, but surprisingly was numb to its touch.
By sfhbmjfawfg6 months ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '26
Arthur who had graduated in 2001 had been a ghost in his own skin, someone who slouched through hallways with his head down, perfecting the art of invisibility as though it were a survival skill rather than a symptom of crippling social anxiety. He had been the kid who ate lunch in empty classrooms, who volunteered for cleanup duties just to avoid the cafeteria's cacophony, who perfected the excuse that he had "plans" when really he would go home and lose himself in video games and science fiction novels that offered more safety than any human connection could provide. The bullying had been subtle enough to be deniable, cruel enough to wound, consisting mostly of exclusion and mocking whispers rather than physical aggression, which somehow made it worse because he could never point to a bruise and say "look what they did to me." His mother had urged him to attend previous reunions, arguing that people changed and that holding onto old grudges only wounded himself, but the thought of facing those same faces, even now, sent shivers down his spine that had nothing to do with the autumn breeze drifting through his open window.
By Forest Green6 months ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '26
Meanwhile, Scott bustled in from the pantry, arms loaded with a wooden serving cart that he had rescued from his parents’ attic, now polished and retrofitted with wheels for easy maneuvering. He set the cart beside the refrigerator, carefully arranging a selection of glasses, napkins, and a small bowl of ice cubes that he had meticulously measured to avoid spillage. “I think we’re missing a garnish,” he mused, his eyes scanning the tray before he produced a small basket of lemon wedges, the zest of which promised a burst of freshness with each sip. Peter, feeling an odd mixture of excitement and nervousness, walked through each room, turning on lights and adjusting curtains to achieve the perfect blend of natural and artificial illumination that would set a warm, welcoming tone. He paused at the hallway table where he had laid out a handwritten welcome sign, its script neat and inviting, and whispered, “Let’s make tonight one to remember.” The final checks were performed in near‑silence, each man moving with purpose, their collective effort forming a seamless choreography that would soon be witnessed by dozens of old friends.
By Forest Green6 months ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '26
“Maybe we can label them, or at least make sure the flavors are clearly visible,” he added, pointing to a handwritten sign he had fashioned from an old cereal box, now repurposed as a menu for the night: "Cola – Classic refreshment, Root Beer – Bold and sweet, Ginger Ale – Smooth finish, Sparkling Lemonade – Zestful choice, Craft Citrus – Modern twist.” The sign, though simple, added a touch of charm to the display, and Peter thought about how such small details often contributed the most to making a gathering feel special. The three friends stood back, admiring their handiwork, and Marc, ever the planner, noted, “We should also make sure there’s a backup plan—maybe some non‑carbonated options, just in case.” Scott nodded, already reaching for a case of bottled water that he had stored in the pantry, his practicality a quiet counterpoint to Marc’s artistic vision. As the afternoon slipped into evening, the kitchen became a hub of quiet preparation, the clink of bottles and the rustle of paper plates merging into a symphony of anticipation that signaled how much thought and effort were being poured into this reunion, each decision, no matter how small, contributing to the larger tapestry of the night ahead.
By Forest Green6 months ago in Fiction
