I check my watch for what feels like the umpteenth time now. 12:20 am, it read. Funny, I could have sworn it was already 4:00. Wishful thinking on my part. As part of the simple routine that I had become quickly accustomed to over the duration of the past four nights, I check cameras A, B, C1 and C2, D, E1 and E2, and so on. I check in on the other guard post stations, namely A and B as I’ve only ever worked in those, C and D was supposedly for more “experienced” guards. I routinely check the emergency lights. I routinely check the alarm systems on the doors. I scribble some nonsense on my notepad, because no one else is going to see this. I scan through my phone, because everything’s closed, no one’s here, no one’s going to see this. Night time guard shifts were much simpler than day time guard shifts. Less people, less hassle, less attempted thefts, less motion. Taking on a couple of extra shifts wasn’t as bad as I originally thought it’d be. Plus, the extra cash never hurts.

   I check my watch for what feels like the umpteenth time now. 12:37 am, it reads. I should do my round of walkthroughs. I re-arm myself with the basic taser-pepper spray-baton kit that was decided standard for all security guards. Why they provided such an arsenal when there’s no one here will always befuddle me. We don’t patrol outside, so there’s no real reason to have weapons per se. Nonetheless, I grab my safety vest, taking a quick second to run my thumb over the “Daniel K. Chau” embroidered label before I throw it on and leave guard post A. I key in the security codes and the door locks with a loud CLUNK. Why they make us lock our post doors at night, I’ll never know. Whenever I ask, I get a standard, “its protocol,” and that’ll be the end. I wander through the middle of the mall, stop, and take in my surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary, except a small group of mannequins perched on the upper floor that hadn’t been moved to where they were supposed to be. I swallow thickly, my throat suddenly dry as I turn and continue my patrol. I remind myself that it’s okay. All of the store windows are filled with figurines donned in swim suits, and coats, and pants, and skirts, and dresses, and hats, and necklaces. I make sure to stay in the middle of the mall as I take note of the extraordinarily ordinary night.

   I check my watch for what feels like the umpteenth time now. 12:50 am, the time reads. Times passes so slowly here sometimes I feel as though I can’t keep track of it. I’ve made it part-way through the mall before I notice the light drizzle that’s coming down outside. The hair on the back of my neck stands, and I get a light chill. “I don’t like the rain…” I mutter aloud, to no one in particular. I turn away from the entrance and begin walking back to guard post B. I stop walking. Guard post B? That can’t be right, I thought I was on post B last night. I quickly pull out my phone to check my work schedule. “Daniel K. Chau, Tuesday 11:30 pm – 5:00 am, guard post B,” it read. That’s right, today is Tuesday not Wednesday I remind myself, and take one more look at my surroundings. All of the store windows are emptier than I remember. It must be time for inventory, I say to myself, and make my journey back to post B. The store windows progressively seem emptier and emptier. I wonder- clunk. I cease all movement, and all thinking at the familiar sound of the guard posts’ locks.

   I check my watch for what feels like the umpteenth time now. 1:07 am it reads. That’s…odd…I should be the only guard on shift tonight. My schedule made no notice of another patroller and- clunk. A guard post just unlocked. CLUNK. It just locked back. I pull out my taser, and flashlight. No one else has the codes for the doors except the guards. No one else could be getting in and out of our posts. I carefully round a corner, approaching post B, and listen for anything that might sound like movement. Silence. With shaky hands, I slowly key in the code. Clunk. I hear the inner gears of the door sliding to unlock. Breathing irregularly now, I open the door for post B, readying my taser and flashlight for the intruder. Only, there is no intruder in guard post B. It was exactly as I had left it before I went on my patrol. Or…had I left it like this? My notepad and lunch bag is missing. The chair is also neatly tucked beneath the desk, instead of pulled out, like how I thought I had left it…unless I’m just not in guard post B tonight. That’s right, I should be at post A right now. I put my taser and flashlight back in their respective holsters, and slide post B’s door shut with a loud CLUNK before I turn to head back to my post.

   I check my watch for the umpteenth time now. 1:27 am. I arrive at guard post A, stretch out my limbs before I take a seat back in my chair. My notepad is here, my lunch is here, everything is as I had left it. I think. I’m pretty sure everything is as I had left it. I take a quick look through all the screens. Nothing out of the ordinary. I think. I thought I saw movement on the right half of the mall near posts D, E, and F. Couldn’t be. No one’s here, its just me. Its just me. I think.

   I check my watch for the umpteenth time now. 2:05 am my watch says. I had been staring at the screens for the past…however long it’s been, checking for something, anything to dissuade  my suspicions. Anything to tell me that my mind was playing tricks, that I wasn’t getting enough sleep, wasn’t eating right. Anything to tell me that I was alone, that I was okay, that I wasn’t being watched. A few more minutes go by when I see it. A light shadow, now on the left side of the mall. I immediately jump to my feet, heart racing already. Where is my kit, I whisper to myself. Not on the wall, nor on the desk…ah. I pat my body and remember it’s here, on me. I never removed it. My nerves are on edge, I just forgot it was there. I key in the code for post A. Clunk.

   I check my watch for the umpteenth time now. 2:20 am. Guard post A closed behind me about five minutes ago. I’ve just been standing here. Stuck. All of my guard training suddenly escapes me and I feel ashamed. I’ve handled thefts, suspicious persons, even groups of people. But something unknown? Something that may be searching for me? Something that I can’t see, but it can see me? I…never. I’ve never encountered something like that. But this is my job. I have to do this. I mutter out words to whoever’s listening. Not a prayer, more of a plea for…an easy...going…if the situation comes down to it. I then take that speaking, and use it to push myself off into the mall.

   I check my watch for the umpteenth time now. 2:30 am, and I’ve observed guard posts A, B, and C. Nothing here. I take a deep breath that’s interrupted by a faint clunk. The guard posts on the right side of the mall. That sound propels me into action. I run through the large corridor, and am frozen into place once I’ve reached the entrance of the mall. The intruders, the unknown things that watch me, stand there in a group. Blank faced, clothed figurines, at least 15 of them, that should be…in the store…windows. I slowly avert my eyes to either side of me. The store windows are empty. Their mannequins are gone. They shouldn’t be gone but they are. It doesn’t make sense for them to be gone but they are. They’re standing right in front of me. They’ve moved and I feel queasy. They’re standing right in front of me, facing outward. Facing the outside world. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until I release it. I release it, a little too loudly, and every single one of the figures turn and face me.

   I check my watch for the umpteenth time now. 2:50 am, and I’m running through the mall. I hear nothing but the sound of my own footsteps and heavy breathing and rushing blood and pounding heart. Maybe other footsteps? Footsteps that aren’t mine? Footsteps that shouldn’t be moving, can’t be moving, but are. I don’t know how close they are. I can’t bring myself to turn and look. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. Hide. I rip off my guard kit, and make mad dashes around corners. Around halls. Anything to loose the footsteps. But they only seem to grow louder. I feel sick to the stomach, my lungs burn and I’ve lost control of my breathing. Hide.  I break through a random store entrance. I run as far as I can and dive into a rack of clothes. Hide. The footsteps become unbelievably close. I hear scuffling, and movement. Then they get further away. I hear things breaking. Things being thrown. Clunk. CLUNK. Clunk. CLUNK. The guard posts. They’re searching for me. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. Not again.

   I’m too scared to check my watch. I can’t tell how much time has passed. I haven’t moved and my joints are sore and this can’t be happening again. Not like that time, when I was young. When I got trapped, locked in a store. When I was in there for hours and no one came for me. When I cried. When I cried until I saw feet outside of where I was hiding. When I had thought that the feet were belonging to my parents, or to my brothers, or even to some security guards who just chanced walking by. When, instead, I was met with the same horrors that I am surrounded by now. Blank faces. Blank, featureless faces who chase me. Who watch me and chase me. I was so scared in the past. So frightened, so terrified, that I blacked out. My parents, and the police, and the local news stations and whoever else, found me the next morning. No one believed me. Nothing was out of place. The mannequins hadn’t been moved. Or moved themselves. I was left in a mall, stalked, chased, scarred, and no one believed me. They blamed it on an “overactive child’s imagination.” From then on, I was never let out of an adult’s sight. I was never alone. I was always under watch, and those figures were the cause. This can’t be happening.

”It’s 5:15, don’t we usually pass Daniel by now?” asked a tall security guard.

“Yeah, he might’ve left early since last night and yesterday was slow,” replied the shorter.

“He wouldn’t normally do that.” Clunk. Guard post A slid open.

“The cameras are staticky, we need to call tech support.”

“Great, I’ll process a request. Check the note pads.”

“There’s nothing.”

“What?”

“I said there’s nothing.”

“There’s no log at all?”

“Not one.”

“I’ll be back.” The shorter guard went away for a short time, returned, and spoke, “Daniel didn’t clock out last night. His jacket is missing and I found his kit on the floor in the middle of the mall.”

“Looks like we’ll have to file an incident report,” groaned the taller security guard.

“Guess so,” Sighed the other.

The stores are as they were. The guard posts are as they were.

The mannequins are, seemingly, as they were.