The mall loomed ahead like a beached leviathan—dark, windowless, its once-colorful banners hanging in tattered ribbons. The glass doors were cracked but still intact, streaked with dust and what looked like old blood. Kaya held up her hand for silence.
"Remember the rules," she whispered. "Quiet. Stay in pairs. Check corners. No hero moves."
Everyone nodded, tension coiled in their spines. The plan was to search for medical supplies, batteries, and—if luck smiled—any canned goods left behind in the upper storage floors.
Kaya, Jordan, Mina, and Callum approached the entrance while the rest of the group kept watch from the covered parking lot. With her crowbar, Kaya pried open the door slowly. It let out a soft groan, the sound echoing like a sigh through the hollow atrium.
Inside, the air was stale, heavy with mildew and old perfume. The fluorescent lights were long dead, leaving the place in perpetual gloom lit only by slivers of daylight bleeding through skylights. Broken mannequins lay in dismembered heaps, eerily human in the dimness.
"This place gives me the creeps," Callum muttered, scanning left and right.
"Focus," Kaya said. "We start at the pharmacy, then electronics."
They moved silently through the dust-choked corridors. Every noise—the crunch of glass under boots, the rustle of plastic—felt amplified. As they passed a kid's clothing store, Jordan froze.
"Did you hear that?" he whispered.
Everyone stilled.
A faint dragging sound echoed from the floor above. Not loud, but deliberate.
Callum flicked off his flashlight. "Could be a crawler."
"Or worse," Mina added. "Don't engage. We're here for supplies, not fights."
They reached the pharmacy. Surprisingly, the metal gate was only half-closed. Kaya ducked under and took point. Rows of empty shelves greeted them, but the backroom still held promise. Jordan pried open a locked cabinet using a rusted hammer and let out a low whistle.
"Jackpot."
Several sealed boxes of antiseptic, painkillers, even a few syringes and antibiotics. Nothing miraculous, but it could mean the difference between life and death for someone with an infected wound.
Mina stuffed the supplies into her backpack, careful not to overload. "Let's move. We're burning daylight."
The electronics store was two floors up. As they ascended the cracked escalator, the dragging sound returned—closer now, rhythmic. A whisper of movement in the shadows. The team slowed, weapons drawn.
Suddenly, a burst of static crackled from a long-dead intercom overhead.
"Welcome… to… Sunridge Galleria. Enjoy… your… stay."
Everyone jumped.
"That's not creepy at all," Callum said, heart hammering.
When they reached the second floor, it was clear they weren't alone.
Bloody handprints smeared the glass storefronts. A deep groove trailed along the floor—like something heavy had been dragged. A mutilated doll sat in the middle of the hallway, its eyes gouged out.
"Trap?" Mina whispered.
"No clue," Kaya murmured. "Stay alert."
They reached the electronics store and ducked inside. The shelves were mostly looted, but batteries—precious AA and D-cells—were still there, hidden in a locked display. Jordan smashed the glass.
That's when they heard it again.
Not dragging.
Whispers.
Mina turned slowly toward the corridor. Shadows flickered—fast, unnatural. A shape darted past the glass inhumanly low to the ground.
"That's not a crawler," Callum breathed.
A sudden chill swept through the air, and every flashlight flickered. Kaya's radio spat static, then fell silent.
"I think we need to leave," Mina said, voice thin.
Too late.
A blood-curdling shriek pierced the silence. From the far end of the hall, a figure emerged—lanky, pale, twisted. Its face was obscured by a shattered shopping bag, melted onto its skull. Its arms dragged on the floor, knuckles raw and exposed. The thing jerked forward like a puppet on strings.
"Run!"
They bolted. Callum dropped the crowbar. Mina slipped and slammed into a kiosk. Kaya turned to cover her and fired a flare gun.
The bright flare struck the creature in the chest, engulfing it in brief searing light.
It didn't scream. It didn't flinch.
It kept coming.
"Move! MOVE!"
They burst through the mall corridor, back down the escalator, through the atrium, hearts pounding. The thing followed, not fast—but relentless.
When they reached the exit, Jordan dove for the security lever and slammed it down. A rusted grate fell, separating them from the thing. It smashed against the bars with terrible force, shrieking.
Then it stopped.
Frozen.
Just watching.
The group backed away slowly, breathing hard.
"What the hell was that?" Callum gasped, sweat dripping.
"I don't know," Kaya said. "But it wasn't infected. It was something else."
"Not a ghost," Mina said, "but not human anymore either."
They made it back to the parking lot, where the others waited, wide-eyed at their expressions.
"Did you find supplies?" someone asked.
Kaya nodded, then turned back toward the mall.
Its silhouette sat dark and still against the gray sky. But behind the second-floor window, a shadow watched them—unmoving.
Smiling.