As the electronic doors slid open with a hiss, I hesitated at the threshold of the abandoned mall. In my old life, I'd hated these places—soulless shrines to consumerism filled with mindless shoppers, always reminding me of that movie, Dawn of the Dead.
But now, standing beside a neon-furred Synth Grizzly and staring into the eerie darkness beyond, I almost longed for the mundane chaos of a regular shopping center. This place was anything but normal, and every instinct screamed at me to turn back.
Yet with Annalise and Snuggles counting on us, there was no choice but to press forward into whatever madness awaited inside.
Ben and I exchanged a wary glance before stepping through the entrance. The moment we crossed the threshold, the doors slammed shut behind us with a metallic clang that echoed through the cavernous space. I spun around, my heart racing, to find the exit had seamlessly merged with the wall—no sign of it ever having existed.
A holographic notification flashed before my eyes, its neon green text burning against the dimness of the mall:
Side Quest Activated: Escape the Mall of Madness!
Clear the three floors and defeat the bosses in order to leave the mall. Don’t and you become a mallrat, trapped in here forever.
“Fuck you, AI,” I muttered, shuddering at the thought of spending the rest of eternity trapped in a stupid mall with other braindead mallrats.
The place stretched out before us, a twisted parody of 80s consumerism. Neon signs flickered erratically, casting dancing shadows across shuttered storefronts. The scent of stale popcorn and something metallic made my stomach churn. Blood, probably. This was Infernum, after all.
As we ventured deeper into the main concourse, the silence was broken by the faint sound of laughter—high-pitched and manic—echoing from somewhere in the darkness. Muffled music drifted through the air, a warped version of "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
Ben let out a low, synthesized growl, his neon fur bristling. I placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him even as my own nerves jangled.
"Did you hear that?" I whispered.
As if in response, there was a rustling sound from the shadows. I caught glimpses of movement from the corner of my eye—flashes of neon colors and teased hair disappearing behind planters and kiosks.
"Hey, dude," a voice called out, dripping with exaggerated 80s slang. "Fresh meat in the mall! Totally tubular!"
Another voice chimed in, feminine but with an unsettling edge. "Like, oh my god! Let's give them a proper welcome!"
"Yo, check out this dude's fashion statement!" some other asshole shouted, his voice filled with mocking laughter. "Like, did you lose a bet or something, bro? That jockstrap is, like, totally not rad!"
The other mallrats joined in, their laughter echoing through the building. I felt a flush of embarrassment, but I pushed it down. No way was I gonna let these fucking plastic skinned rejects get to me.
More voices joined in, a chorus of demented giggles and half-whispered phrases that made no sense. "Gag me with a spoon!" "What a wastoid!" "Time to get maxed out!"
Almost on instinct, I took out my nunchaku, gripping them tight, eyes darting around trying to pinpoint the source of the voices. "Show yourselves!" I demanded, my voice echoing off the tiled floors.
There was a moment of hushed silence before a figure stepped out from behind a neon-lit pillar. It was a teenage boy, or at least, something that looked like one. He wore acid-wash jeans and a popped-collar polo shirt, but his skin had an unnatural, plastic sheen to it. His eyes were too wide, his smile too broad, revealing rows of sharpened teeth.
"Welcome to the Mall of Madness, bro," he said, his voice fluctuating between octaves unnaturally. "Hope you're ready to shop 'til you drop... dead!"
More figures emerged from the shadows—a horde of demented mallrats, each one a nightmarish caricature of 80s teen fashion. Their movements were jerky and unnatural, like malfunctioning animatronics brought to life.
Ben roared, the sound distorting through his synthesizer into something between a battle cry and the opening riff of a power ballad.
I raised my nunchaku, falling into a fighting stance. “You want some?” I shouted. “Come and get it then, you Barbie and Ken looking motherfuckers!”
The herd of mallrats didn’t come any closer, though. They remained where they were, grinning like the empty-headed automatons they were.
That is, until they suddenly began to move in unison toward us, their jerky movements synchronizing into a disturbing parody of a dance routine. They formed a circle around us, their wide, glassy eyes never leaving our faces. The warped music swelled, and the mallrats started to sing along, their voices echoing eerily through the mall.
"Girls just want to have fun..." they sang, but the lyrics quickly devolved into something darker. "Girls just want to cut, and slice, and dice, oh yeah, they just want to have fun..."
As they sang, they began to contort their bodies in ways that defied human anatomy. Limbs bent at impossible angles, heads spun around like owls', and their mouths opened impossibly wide, revealing rows upon rows of shark-like teeth.
But the truly disgusting part was what they started to do next. In time with the music, they began to tear at their own flesh, peeling back their plastic skin to reveal pulsating, neon-colored muscles and veins beneath. Blood spurted out in arcs, splattering the floor and nearby walls, but the mallrats didn't seem to feel any pain. Instead, they laughed manically, continuing their grotesque dance as they literally tore themselves apart.
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One of them, a girl with a side ponytail and a shirt that read "Frankie Says Relax," yanked out a handful of her own intestines and began to swing them around like a lasso, spraying blood and gore everywhere. Another, a boy with a Members Only jacket, gouged out his own eyes and tossed them at us, the orbs leaving trails of optic nerve like morbid comets.
Ben and I stood back-to-back, trying to avoid the spray of bodily fluids and dismembered parts. The stench was overwhelming, a putrid mix of decay and synthetic materials. I fought back the urge to vomit, focusing instead on trying to find a way out of this nightmare.
“We’re like, totally going to destroy you,” one of them said as he ripped his penis off and threw it at me. The penis slapped against my chest like a giant slug, making me cry out in horror. It was like flesh coated in plastic, and when it hit the floor, I took a step back from it as if afraid it would grow legs and attack me.
"Like, totally, gag me with a spoon!" one of the girl mallrats exclaimed, suddenly whipping off her Wham! T-shirt to reveal her bare, plasticy breasts. She giggled, a high-pitched sound that grated on my nerves. "Check it, dude! Rainbow brite milk, just for you!" She began to squeeze them, squirting neon-colored milk from her nipples that splashed across my face. "You're gonna be, like, one of us soon! So, drink up, homeboy!"
I recoiled, wiping the disgusting liquid from my face. It smelled like a toxic mix of chemicals and rotten milk. The other mallrats cackled and hooted, their laughter echoing through the mall as they continued their grotesque dance.
"That's fucked up," I spat, trying to keep my composure. "You're all sick!"
The girl just laughed louder, her breasts still squirting out the rainbow-colored milk in rhythm with the warped music. "Like, oh my god, you're such a buzzkill!" she taunted. "Just wait till you're part of the gang, bro. You'll be, like, totally rad too!"
Ben growled beside me, his neon fur standing on end, as if he was itching to start tearing all the crazy mallrats apart with his claws and teeth.
But before he got the chance, the mallrats scattered as if something had scared them. Looking around, I couldn’t see anything, so I cautiously headed deeper into the mall, passing a giant rainbow blood fountain, then decaying storefronts and shattered glass cases, finally stopping when I reached the food court.
It was then that I saw what had spooked the mallrats.
In the heart of the food court, a monstrous figure loomed—a mutated Mall Cop, still rockin' his security getup, but now with muscles bulging like he'd been mainlining steroids from Mars. His face was a twisted mess of rage and crazy, eyes bloodshot and wild, mouth frozen in a snarl that showed off rows of jagged teeth. In one hand, he clutched a beat-up riot shield, and in the other, a baton that sparked with some seriously wicked juice.
"Yo, punks!" he roared, his voice booming through the food court like a heavy metal bass drum. “How dare you intrude in my mall! You're gonna pay for that, suckers!"
The Mall Cop charged, his speed surprising for his size. He slammed into us like a freight train, sending Ben skidding across the tile floor and leaving me winded. I rolled to the side just as his baton came crashing down, the dark energy leaving a scorch mark on the ground.
I sprang to my feet, nunchaku at the ready. The Mall Cop turned to face me, his riot shield raised. I swung my weapon, the neon handles leaving a trail of light as they cut through the air. The nunchaku clanged against the shield, the impact jarring my arms.
The Mall Cop laughed. "Pathetic," he growled. "You'll have to do better than that."
Ben roared, charging back into the fray. He feinted, drawing the Mall Cop's attention, then darted away as the baton swung at him. I took the opportunity to strike, activating the Electric Slide skill. I dodged the Mall Cop's next attack, leaving behind damaging electrical afterimages that crackled against his shield.
The Mall Cop grunted in pain, his grip on the shield faltering. I pressed my advantage, unleashing a flurry of strikes with my nunchaku. The "Rhythm is a Fighter" passive kicked in, and power chords blasted out with each hit, adding extra energy damage and boosting Ben's attack speed at the same time.
Seeing the Mall Cop falter, Ben roared and charged, his neon fur bristling with static. He leapt onto the Mall Cop's back, sinking his teeth into the mutated guard's shoulder. The Mall Cop howled in agony as Ben's powerful jaws clamped down, his teeth tearing through flesh and muscle.
Ben shook his head like a wild animal, dealing massive damage to the Mall Cop's health bar. Blood spurted from the wound, splattering the floor and nearby tables. The Mall Cop tried to dislodge Ben, spinning and thrashing, but Ben held on tight, his claws digging into the Mall Cop's chest for extra grip.
The Mall Cop's Health Bar dropped, but not enough. I took the opportunity to strike again, my nunchaku spinning through the air before crashing down on the monster security guard’s exposed back. The power chords blasted out again, the extra energy damage critically hitting the already wounded guard.
The Mall Cop staggered, his movements slowing as his Health Bar dropped into the red zone. Ben finally released his grip, leaping off the Mall Cop's back and landing gracefully on the floor. He spat out a chunk of flesh before growling something unintelligible.
I stood beside Ben, my nunchaku at the ready. The Mall Cop turned to face us, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His once pristine uniform was now torn and bloodied, his body a mess of wounds.
But he wasn't defeated yet.
"You fight well, intruders," he rasped, his voice filled with pain and rage. "But it won't be enough. The Mall of Madness will consume you, just as it has consumed me."
I tightened my grip on my nunchaku, steeling myself for the final confrontation. "Not if we have anything to say about it," I replied.
I activated "Radical Spin," performing a flashy twirling maneuver that briefly confused the Mall Cop. As he staggered, I leapt into the air, nunchaku spinning above my head.
"Bitchin' Beat Down!" I shouted, channeling every '80s action hero I could think of. The nunchaku blazed with light, the connecting chain crackling with electricity. I brought the weapon down on the Mall Cop's shield with all my might, the power ballad finale kicking in for massive area damage.
The shield shattered under the onslaught, the explosion of energy sending the Mall Cop reeling. Ben saw his chance and pounced, pinning the Mall Cop to the ground. With a final, brutal swipe of his claws, Ben tore out the guy’s throat, ending the fight.
The Mall Cop's body convulsed, then bizarrely exploded into a shower of coins and retro video game tokens. I stood there, panting and bruised, as the loot rained down around us.
Ben didn’t seem to have much interest in the loot, but I did. I gathered up all the coins and tokens, taking the Mall Cop’s baton as well, which would no doubt come in useful at some point. There was also a utility belt, which bizarrely held a flare gun, a spray can labelled HYDROCHLORIC ACID, and… praise the gods. “Cigarettes!”
After stashing the other items in my inventory, I opened the fresh pack of cigs and took a deep sniff. Despite quitting smoking a year before I died, I couldn’t wait to spark one of the cancer sticks up later.
But only after I’d cleared this fucking mall.
As the eerie music continued to play in the background, I soon heard taunting voices from above. Turning, I saw the mallrats leaning over the railing of the floor above, their neon-colored hair and clothes standing out against the dim lighting.
"Yo, dude! You gonna come up and face the Queen, or what?" one of them shouted, his voice echoing through the mall.
"Yeah, like, she's waiting for you, homeboy!" another chimed in, her voice filled with mocking laughter.
I exchanged a glance with Ben, knowing we had no choice but to press on. We headed for the escalator, the mechanical hum drowned out by the jeers and taunts of the mallrats above.
Alright you fuckers, I thought. You’re about to find out that I ain't got time to bleed.