(Finished) Horror SS WIP
I’m back! After a long month or so away, I have been toiling away thinking about my blog. Because even if I am not working on it, I still think about it and what to write constantly. Bringing me to today’s post and news! As I am only doing two posts per month (and still getting back to working on it through burnout) I thought a good way to ease into it would be to do WIP (work in progress).
I’ll start a story, poem, or maybe even a personal essay on the first week, ruminate on it, and finish it on that second week; if that is kinda confusing, I’ll try to explain it using this month. Today’s post is released on the 10th of August, wherein I will (under the line) start a project. The next post is scheduled for 24th of August, wherein I will finish the WIP. Ideally that will be what happens but I might want to spend more time with an idea, realistically it takes years to write novels so trying to do it in a shorter time frame is not really fair but these will be short and sweet—a taste of something more, since this website is meant to show my range of writing more than anything (I can’t say all of what I’ve posted has been good but it’s collage of what I can do, not what I’m comfortable doing).
Also, for those of you who aren’t writers, you can see how writing works in stages. Coming up with a placeholder name, figuring out where the plot might go, character names, how many characters, where the story takes place, how much exposition, how much action, trying to show not tell, metaphors, imagery, etc. There is sooooo much work that goes into it and very few people recognize that.
(August 10th version): The Mall Encounter (?)
Sadie put her hair into a ponytail and took the mall entrance to her part-time job.
Sometimes, when she first started, she would show up an hour earlier and just walk around the mall as the stores closed one-by-one, the mall security turning off some of the lights to save power, leaving only her and the night-owls to prowl the halls. She wondered if they felt strange being here long after the world deemed it appropriate?
The mall felt different at night, lifeless without people—darkness spread and ate the joy once held by teens playing hooky, adults frantically hitting sales for glasses, and seniors hating all the noise—to fill its monochrome halls. A shell left abandoned by a hermit crab is crushed by a passerby. Most buildings at night carried this feeling; perhaps schools would be less hollow without the red exit signs highlighting what it’s missing?
Sadie never put much thought into why seeing her old elementary school at night saddened her, though if pushed she might say that it was once the place of dreams and to see it condemned is a special kind of childhood trauma she couldn’t afford to discuss. In fact, it is probably why she took the closing shift at the Cinnabon in the far west side of the mall. She might not feel as empty if she could hand out pastries to night-owls traversing the big building of lost hope. It terrified her coworkers, they mention how brave she is to walk through the employee alley in the back of the story that leads to the parking lot.
“I couldn’t do it, it freaks me out! That’s why Sera and I work the same shift,” Riley whined this afternoon.
“Why? The only people who can get in there are us and Frank,” the manager, “what do you expect to happen? A serial chose you? A Cinnabon worker, who serves literal gold to food addicts?” Sadie replied.
“Doesn’t mean that stupid dim alley doesn’t scare me!”
Sadie remembered ignoring them and continued working. Folding empty boxes once filled with icing and placing cold and slightly stale buns into the display case. Greeting customers with an overly cheery “Welcome to Cinnabon! How can I help you today?”, only to get “uh, can I get a box of six?” or whatever it was they wanted—it wasn’t like they sold anything else. Clearing the two tables and washing the counters, she turned off the neon sign, and went home.
As she laid her head to sleep, she remembered her friends’ complaints.
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Again, Sadie didn’t put much thought into the employee exit. The alley was a straight line to and from the parking lot with a padlock and keypad, someone could easily copy a key but the code changed every week. On the slim chance a disgruntled customer does attempt to sneak in, there’s nowhere in the alley to hide. No little curves or alcoves to hide, just arcade carpet, one yellow light every ten steps, and white walls for company.
Sadie should’ve put more thought into these feelings, as she found herself slamming the car door shut, clicking the lock button, and sliding down near the dash. This is the first car that was unlocked, she lost her keys some time ago, and couldn’t salvage her phone. The once luminous fluorescent lights now sparked as they short circuited. Sadie heard a high whistle through the window, she sank lower pressing against the pedals. The whistle dulled with distance and Sadie’s head hit the seat cushion as her breath came back.
The door unlocked.
```
Sadie’s shift started at 5PM. She took over the cash register since she was the quickest, and slowly got rid of the dinner rush. It’s surprising how many parents come to get a box or two, Sadie always thought the rule was no sugar before bed? There were youth pastors who came as well, since the church was a couple blocks away, and Sadie couldn’t help but assume they were using food as a bribe for their parish. Despite her personal tastes, she served them. Who was she to judge, she wasn’t paid for that, she was barely paid to do her job. Most of the faces blurred as she helped Riley and Sera clean up before they left at 6PM. They wished her a good night and Sadie heard them run down the employee exit. This is around the time her shift slowed, sure there were moviegoers and high school seniors loitering about picking at their sticky buns in the booths, but no longer were people compelled to line up for the sweet treats.
Sadie didn’t condone smoking but it was one of the few ways her manager, Carl, let her take breaks without comment. She would flash the pack at his tiny office window and he would look back down often after propping his door slightly open to hear potential customers. Sadie would take off her apron, place it on the kitchen counter, and walk through the employee exit to the underground parking lot.
Sadie spent her walk thinking about her coworkers and their distress at this ‘alley’--only so named because it was narrow, dark, and cold. The walk, like Sadie mentioned, was straightforward. The only time the alley branched was toward the end where two doors were. One led to the garbage and had a slightly bigger doorway to accommodate the large bins, and the other led to the parking garage. Employee parking only, though some managers gave their family their spot and key if they didn’t drive so they could pick them up. In the morning, the garage was packed with panicked and exhausted overworked teens running to make their shifts in the mall; in the evening, Sadie often found herself alone.
There’s no breeze or noise, just Sadie–her full smoke pack–and the cement.
(August 23rd version)
The orange fluorescent lights burned her squinted eyes. She leaned against the wall near the smoking sign, her shoes scuffing a rubber line into the cement as she attempted to keep her balance. She pulls out a cigarette and just stands there. If her manager found her she would light it and pretend to take a drag, otherwise she got her 10-15 minutes of nothing.
It felt more healing than standing behind an empty counter in the silence of the night, facing the dimmed mall and other closed stores. To this day, Sadie never understood why the Cinnabon stayed open till midnight. She assumed it didn’t need to, what person desperately needed a pastry any later than 10PM? I mean sure, Sadie had found herself craving the chewy confectionery late at night before bed, though she associated that with a lapse of judgment and the first dip into being a workaholic; she even dreamed of cinnamon buns, the brown sugar swirls hypnotizing her.
She comforted herself by saying she just liked baking. It hurt a little to know she didn’t think of the money first—they paid two dollars above the minimum wage—since she was trying to save up. Maybe for college, to prepare for the most depressing meals that cost a few hundred dollars; or maybe she saved to move out to a big city, to a place where the bright lights made the light pollution look like a spotlight. The truth was Sadie saved up for nothing; her family told her how responsible people always save their money and she did—respect and pride is a fickle thing awarded to only the best children.
Instead of putting time into her hobbies (which she is sure she would have) or figuring out how to decorate her room rather than just holding onto posters and putting them in her closet, Sadie worked. Mostly nights, but she had worked an opening and closing shift on the same day before. The only hobby she could justify was watching horror movies, because she just had to watch. She often fell asleep to the sound of fake blood splashing and a scream—oddly comforting but it made her feel a little less alone. Her parents hadn’t been home in weeks.
Sadie stared into the parkade. The outer rim was illuminated but several swaths in the middle were left to the darkness.
Tomorrow she would tell her friends she hated the parkade and its light shaped like a mouth, but if she parked anywhere else her car would be towed. The security guard always told her the outside parking was meant for customers not employees, and they would call her car in.
It seemed like everyone hated working so late, too busy missing people—Sadie had herself and she was a blast, especially when exhausted. Sadie would laugh-cry at the littlest things, that’s when Carl knew it was time to go home.
“Okay, I’m calling it, time to go.”
Sadie would rip off the hair-net and Carl would pull the metal shutters closed.
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Sadie waited at the employee entrance, knowing she didn’t have the keys to lock it properly. Carl jogged to lock up and they started to walk to the parkade. She looked at her manager and tried to form a single thought about him, but she couldn’t. She knew Sera liked cotton candy and rock music and Riley loved wings and hated sugar. Carl was a lean dude who wore two braids low in his hair, he walked with a hop every other step, and rarely spoke about his life—Sadie could relate—that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious to know who she worked with.
Sera and Riley were easy to read, but Carl was a mystery to Sadie. She waved to him as they reached his car and she continued to walk to hers (why did she park so far?). About ten feet from her car she looked back after hearing a gasp thinking Carl was upset she didn’t say goodbye. I mean they worked together every night, the least she could do was say goodbye. But his disapproving eyes weren’t on her, he was pressed up against a car on the outer rim of the parkade with some dude.
“Carl, congrats—,” she started to yell, then Sadie got a good look. Carl hung limp only held up by this guy pressing him into the car door, he looked pale. She made up her mind to walk over, this guy looked like bad news.
She hurled herself into a crouch as the man looked back to where she was, she didn’t know why she ducked behind a car for good measure. Panic started to make her hands shake as she searched her bag for her keys. A sudden flash of memory floated behind her eyes; she laughed at the rat and fell forward, her apron spilling its contents: extra icing packets warming up, a few spoons, and her keys. “Shit,” Sadie spoke and almost as soon as she did, she regretted it.
Feet shuffled alerted Sadie, she rolled under the car as a body appeared where she ducked moments prior. This guy was quick. Sadie’s eyes went to Carl and blood slowly oozed out of his mouth into his shirt as he sat propped against his car. She gagged behind her hand. the body turned in a circle and then returned to Carl’s body.
She watched as the man dragged her boss out of her line of sight and she heard him grunt, lifting the body into Carl’s car. “What is he doing? Staging a suicide?”
Again the man’s head popped up at the noise, Sadie made a note to whisper from now on. She took a tiny breath and thought about a plan. Her keys lay on the floor of the Cinnabon, where if she didn’t pick them up, this man would steal them and make copies and find her in her house. That could not happen, so she needed to get the keys from Carl—poor Carl whose face would be burned into Sadie’s dreams begging to be helped—all without getting caught.
She slid her right foot to the back of her left shoe and carefully pushed them off, her socks should muffle the sound of her heavy steps. If only she could calm the fuck down. She knew the parkade was bad! It is a natural serial killers playground, all the lights are easily accessible from a panel near the door, and while the mall entrance was locked, the outside was open for cars to get out—Sadie made another note to yell at the security guard, they should be here to guard the parkade—probably left early because who worked this late? Asshole.
She wormed her hand back and found her phone, she turned it to silent, then dialed the security guard’s number. It rang three times before a loud chime could be heard throughout the parkade, Sadie hung up. “Fuck,” she breathed out. So they were here… She felt sorry she doubted the security guard. Sadie peered out from under the car and hoped the man didn’t start looking for someone else.
Actually, it has been quiet for more than ten minutes. Feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, she held her breath, as if she saw him finding her she rolled until she was five or so cars away from her original position, just as she saw a flashlight flicker underneath that car. How had he known where she was? Or had she been too caught up in her head, she didn’t notice him checking most of the cars in her corner?
Either way it scared her. She heard the man grumble under his breath and move back towards Carl’s car. Sadie knew she would never get within an inch of that car, she began to wonder how easy it was to break into the mall’s shudders. Her phone lit up with a text from Sera: “Did you get home okay?”
Sadie felt like an idiot, she could text! She half-watched out for the man and half-texted Sera asking her to call the police: “Stuck in the parkade, some guy killed Carl, can’t call police, help!” It delivered, and Sera had begun to call her before she was pulled out from under the car.
“Found ya.”
Sadie wasted no time trying to scratch his eyes out, pushing him away. He must have been stunned by her attack because she got to the electrical panel before he got up. She cried before jamming her phone into the fuses, cutting the lights off. She ran the opposite way where she left the man and started to pull at door handles (one had to be opened) but she did it gently to stop the alarms.
She tried fifteen cars, and felt stupid for turning the lights off, as she tripped and bumped into almost every car. She knew every person who attempted to use the dark to their advantage in movies always got caught. What was stopping her from running into the night, why did she feel compelled to face this man? Why did she think he would follow her home—he would either way—and wait till she closed her eyes to finish her off. She just hopes Sera called the police.
A small gasp left her mouth as a car finally let her in, she clicked the lock button, and slid down near the dash. Sadie heard a high whistle through the window, she sunk lower pressing against the pedals. The whistle dulled with distance and Sadie’s head hit the seat cushion as her breath came back.
The door unlocked.
2583 words for this sucker, it is more than I thought I would write and it’s pretty good! I never meant for Sadie to live, I just mean I never meant for this to be a “final girl” situation. In my mind, horror is not about hope or someone making it out but rather the helplessness—often showcasing some aspect of society. I don’t know if I do that or if this is just a silly story that feels more like a character study than horror.
