Chapter 2: Shoppers & Shadows
Security was completely overwhelmed. Jack shoved through the throng, trying to keep order, but no one was listening. A young security guard named Parker, Jack couldn’t remember his first name, tried to step in front of the stampede near the east exit, hands raised. “Everyone, just calm d—”
A terrified shopper barreled into him, sending him sprawling onto the tile. His radio skidded across the floor, instantly kicked aside by the panicked rush.
“Help!”
Jack’s head snapped toward the scream. A woman in a red windbreaker had fallen near the escalators. The crowd was pressing forward, trampling over her legs as she struggled to crawl away. Jack rushed forward, grabbed her arm and hauled her up just before a teenager’s sneaker would have crushed her hand. She sobbed a breathless, “Thank you,” before stumbling back into the madness.
Nearby, a vendor’s kiosk tipped over, sending sunglasses, fake jewelry, and T-shirts skidding across the floor. The scent of spilled Orange Julius mixed with sweat and something acrid, the smell of pure panic.
A frantic father stood just outside one of the entrance gates, grasping the steel bars with both fists, pushing and pulling on it as if trying to rip it from its hinges. He screamed until his throat went raw for his son—standing just inches away on the other side of the gate, wide-eyed, frozen in terror.
In the food court, a group of teenagers hurled a garbage can full-force at an enormous plate glass window. The can bounced off with a flash of light but without so much as a crack. Something was very, very wrong.
A food court worker stumbled, catching herself on a table. A customer grabbed her arm.
“Hey—are you okay?”
She blinked rapidly, breathless. “Yeah. Just got… dizzy outta nowhere.”
A kid near the directory sign groaned and clutched his head. “What is that sound?”
His friend frowned. “What sound?”
He winced, rubbing his temples. “It’s—ugh. Like… this high-pitched noise. Like a mosquito whining. You seriously don’t hear that?”
His friend looked at him strangely, but before he could answer, a middle-aged businessman charged past, shoving the kid to the floor.
Dez, Elliot, and Alyce exchanged uneasy glances.
Elliott exhaled slowly, his grip tightening on his sketchbook. “This is insane.”
“Still not the…craziest thing I’ve…seen tonight,” Alyce panted, still exhausted from her ordeal.
Dez shifted his stance. Something in his limbs suddenly felt off; not like himself. Too tense. Too tight. His heartbeat wasn’t slowing. His adrenaline was pumping, and he felt like he needed to run; or sprint’ or do jumping jacks. Anything to burn off this sudden excess of energy.
Elliott realized he was blinking too much, too fast. He couldn’t help it. What was going on with his vision? His pupils rapidly alternated between shrinking and dilating. First there was not enough light to see. Then there was too much. Then not enough. Back and forth. His breath hitched. His vision became far too sharp. He could see everything with crystal clear clarity. Every crack in the tile. Every bead of sweat on Dez’s forehead. Every tousled hair on Alyce’s hair. Too detailed. Too clear. Then—it was gone.
“…Holy crap,” Elliott muttered, swaying momentarily on his feet. “What the hell was that?”
Dez shook out his hands, then frowned. He clenched a fist, then unclenched. His fingers moved too fast. He barely even felt the motion.
“Alyce?” Elliot’s voice was barely above a whisper. “What we should do now? Where can we take you?”
Alyce swallowed. Why was he asking her? Without Dez’s support, she could barely stand up let alone think straight. “We need to find my dad. He’ll know what to do."
They advanced toward the food court exit, stepping around a fallen directory sign that had been knocked over in the chaos. The lights flickered overhead, casting long, jagged shadows against the shattered storefronts. In the distance, a loud mechanical groan echoed through the mall, followed by the distant crash of something heavy collapsing. Somewhere up ahead, a group of people had gathered near a security station, shouting at an overwhelmed security guard.
The father by the gate turned back to his son—only to watch in horror as the boy’s eyes flickered with an unnatural glow.
A teenager looked down at his fingers—his skin had darkened. It looked almost…blue? Must be the shadows, a trick of the light.
Alyce scanned the mall for any sign of her father. The panic, the shouting, the fear—she shoved it all to the back of her mind. One step at a time. Find Dad. Get answers. Figure out the rest later.
A flicker. Then another. The overhead lights sputtered to life, flickering in uneven bursts before finally settling into a steady glow. The hum of the HVAC system returned, the vents overhead exhaling a cool breeze. Somewhere in the distance, a cash register beeped weakly as it rebooted.
For a moment, the mall held its breath—then the tension snapped.
People cheered. Conversations erupted all at once. Some sighed in relief, others laughed nervously, shaking off the tension like a bad dream. Someone in the food court clapped, and within seconds, a ripple of applause spread across the scattered crowd.
“Thank God!” a man near the JCPenney entrance shouted.
“See if the exit gates will open now!” someone else called out.
More voices chimed in, their fear dissolving into hopeful chatter. Some shoppers rushed back to their stores, expecting business to resume as if nothing had happened. Some parents ushered their children toward the exits, eager to leave before another outage hit.
Suddenly, a sharp electronic chime cut through the mall’s speakers. Then, a voice—mechanical, emotionless, inhuman—rolled through the air like distant thunder.
"ATTENTION. ATTENTION.
STAGING AREA FORMATION INITIALIZED.
PLAYER MODIFICATIONS WILL COMMENCE SHORTLY."
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The voice was flat, coldly efficient—neither male nor female. It wasn’t a simple pre-recorded message. It had the eerie precision of something aware. A static hum crackled through the speakers, then silence.
The cheers died instantly. People froze, their celebration curdling into confusion. A few nervous murmurs broke the stillness, but the excitement from moments ago had been suffocated.
A beat of silence followed the announcement. Then—movement.
Near the east exit, a burly man with a thick mustache and a leather vest was already backing away. He glanced around at the unsettlingly calm mall speakers, then at his two buddies.
“Hell no,” he muttered. “I don’t know what that was, but we’re outta here.”
No arguments. The three of them turned and bolted toward the mall exit, cutting through clusters of confused shoppers. Others saw them running—and instinct kicked in. A murmur spread. Then a ripple. Then a stampede.
Shoppers surged toward the main doors, their collective panic finally breaking loose. Parents grabbed their children. Teenagers shouted for their friends. An elderly woman, moving too slowly, was knocked off balance and fell to the floor as the crowd swarmed past her.
The exit gates loomed ahead, lined with security guards, mall employees who had been just as clueless as everyone else up until now. Several were fumbling with keys, jamming them into locks, trying to lift the metal gates. Nothing. The gates didn’t budge.
A beefy man in workout attire grabbed one of the guards by the collar. “What the hell is going on? Open the damn doors!”
“I’m trying!” the guard snapped, slapping the suit’s hand away. He yanked at the gate with both hands. It didn’t even rattle. It was as if it had fused into the floor, frozen in time. Another wave of panic crashed through the crowd. More people pushed forward, pounding on the unyielding metal. Others turned to the side exits, the department store entrances, the emergency doors— all locked. No matter where they went, there was no way out.
The realization hit all at once. They weren’t leaving. They couldn’t go home. They were trapped.
Jack pushed through the crowd, scanning every face. The gates were still down, the mall locked tight. People were yelling, pushing, trying to get out. But there was no way through. Jack kept his head down, staying calm. Panic wouldn’t help.
“Keep it together,” he muttered under his breath.
But his thoughts kept drifting back to Alyce. She’s smart. She’ll follow instructions. He had sent her to check on Sigmund earlier. She would’ve gone to the security office like he told her. And if she’d followed the plan, she would’ve headed straight for the exit afterward.
She’s out by now. The thought gave him a sliver of comfort, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to be sure. Jack lifted the radio to his mouth. “Sigmund. Do you copy?”
There was a brief crackle before Sigmund’s voice came through, faint but clear. “Copy. I’m here.”
“Have you seen Alyce?” Jack kept his tone even, hiding the worry gnawing at his gut.
“Yeah,” Sigmund replied after a beat. “She came by the office a little while ago.”
Jack’s breath caught, but he kept his composure. “And?”
“She didn’t stick around,” Sigmund said, his voice distracted, as if his mind was elsewhere. “Said was in a hurry to head home.”
Jack felt the tension ease in his chest. She made it.
“Thanks,” Jack said, lowering the radio. He took a steadying breath, his grip on the device loosening. “She’s safe.”
That was what mattered. But a nagging voice whispered at the back of his mind. What if…? Jack shoved the thought aside. No time for doubt. He had bigger problems to handle. If Alyce had made it out, she was safe. He’d check in with her later once things settled down. Right now, he had to focus on keeping order.
“Parker!” Jack called out, spotting the young security guard struggling to maintain control near one of the exits. “Regroup near the fountain! We’re locking this down!”
As he moved toward the growing chaos, Jack pushed his worry for Alyce to the back of his mind. She’s safe. But the voice of doubt lingered, just out of reach.
Sigmund leaned forward, cracking his knuckles as he stared at the security terminal in the upstairs office. The system was still online. Everything else in the mall had gone dark for a few minutes, but somehow, the mall servers had never even flickered. Suspicious as hell.
He tapped at the keyboard, navigating to the employee login screen. The weekly password change was yesterday. Didn’t matter. The secretary was predictable. Every time they changed the password, she wrote it down in the exact same spot—a sticky note stuck under the monitor in the front office. Sigmund had swiped a peek earlier while pretending to check the lost-and-found log.
Password: PENCIL.
He rolled his eyes as he typed it in.
“Really, Bethany? So lame.”
The system blinked to life, dropping him straight into the mall manager’s account:
Jackpot.
He didn’t have full admin privileges—As the assistant mall manager, Blithers’ account was limited in scope, mainly used for approving store policies, shift schedules, and maintenance requests. But it had one very useful function. He had to be careful with it, as overuse would surely lead to him getting busted. But it was time to throw caution to the wind.
Sigmund navigated to the security access panel, scrolling through the list of current system users until he found his own name.
Bingo. He selected the admin upgrade and hit confirm.
The new permissions gave him access to mall-wide messages, security logs, and internal alerts.
Sigmund immediately opened the recent system announcements—the ones tied to the bizarre PA message about restructuring and adventuring assignments. His pulse quickened as he scrolled.
There it was. A new folder. Time-stamped just minutes ago.
It had a dozen sub-files—strange documents with cryptic labels:
- [ZONE ALLOCATION - PHASE 1]
- [ADVENTURER CLASSIFICATION PROTOCOLS]
- [ESSENCE ALLOCATION SYSTEM - STATUS: LOCKED]
- [DUNGEON ACTIVATION COUNTDOWN - PENDING]
What the hell was this?
This wasn’t some standard mall directive. It read more like an operational manual for a massive, live gaming event. But who the hell was running it? Sigmund clicked into the first file. A text-based interface blinked to life, no graphics—just rows of flashing green letters on black.
[COMMUNICATION PROTOCOL – PLAYER MANUAL SYSTEM]
He squinted, scanning the lines:
“Each adventurer granted a unique messaging channel.”
“One-way log. Manual entries overwrite previous text.”
“No archival. No duplication. Only latest message remains visible at a time.”
Sigmund leaned back, frowning. “One message at a time? That’s… dumb.”
He looked closer. The phrasing was cold, deliberate. This wasn’t a feature. It was a trap.
Let them overwrite their own warnings. Let them forget what they were trying to remember. Let them cause their own failure.
The screen flickered. Then, just as the document began to load—
Dammit.
Sigmund clenched his jaw, drumming his fingers against the desk. He’d hit a wall. Whatever this was, he didn’t have clearance to see it. Not yet.
Mall Crawl ‘86: A Dungeon Crawler Lit RPG
Sub-Chapter 2A: Avatar
> Stern Voice: “Ok people, phase one is about to end and we still haven’t spent those 400 points. I need suggestions like yesterday.”
> Nervous Voice: “Uh…guys? I’m looking at the crowd models. This… this is bad.”
> Stern Voice: “Clarify.”
> Nervous Voice: “Panic levels are spiking. We’ve got injuries, property damage is climbing, and… oh no. We’ve got fights breaking out near the anchor stores. If this keeps going—”
> Whiny Voice: “Great. Just great. A full riot before transformations even kick in.”
> Stern Voice: “Containment protocols?”
> Nervous Voice: “Minimal effectiveness. People aren’t thinking straight. They’re scared. Containment buys us time, but it won’t stop the escalation.”
> Stern Voice: “Options?”
> Excitable Voice: “Oh! Oh! Pick me! I got something!”
> Stern Voice: “Proceed.”
> Excitable Voice: “Let me use my avatar! It’s perfect! They’re panicking because they don’t get what’s happening. My avatar frames it like a narrative. Gives them a reason to play along.”
> Frustrated Voice: “An untested construct? With our remaining Phase One points? God, that’s freaking risky as hell.”
> Whiny Voice: “He’s been begging to use that thing for ages. We swore not to let him bring his pet projects to the field.”
> Excitable Voice: “Come onnnnnn! We need crowd control! This isn’t just a gimmick—it’s a tool! I promise, it’ll work. Please?”
> Stern Voice: “…How many points?”
> Frustrated Voice: “You’re not actually considering this?!”
> Excitable Voice: “A clean 300. Leaves us with 100 to bank.”
> Stern Voice: “…Approved. Put the final 100 toward fully stabilizing the power grid. Once the avatar is deployed, Phase One concludes. Phase Two begins immediately”
Excitable Voice: “YES! You won’t regret this! I’ve got the perfect intro lined up. And wait till you see the special effects—”
Bored Voice: “God, I hope this blows up so we can all go home.”
Frustrated Voice: “God Dammit! I thought we had a rule of NO GIRLFRIENDS at game sessions!”
Who is your favorite character?