The rest of Arctha's shift dragged on like the world's longest dental appointment. Every second felt like an eternity as she tried to focus on her duties, but her eyes kept drifting toward the glass doors. Outside, the figure sat motionless on the bench. He wasn't just a boy—no, he was a boy that acted like a thirty-year-old. But not quite a man, either. Somewhere in between, maybe, with a face caught in that uncanny space of youth and age. His purple eyes were fixed unrelentingly on the entrance, a silent challenge that made her stomach churn.
He'd been there for hours. His presence was an unspoken weight pressing against the mall's glass doors, and despite her efforts, she couldn't block him out. Every few minutes, she stole a glance, hoping he'd be gone. Maybe he'd get bored and find somewhere else to loiter. But no. He was still there, perched on the same bench with his hat tilted at an absurd angle. The cane balanced across his lap wobbled every time he shifted, and the stub of a cigar danced in his teeth—not smoked, just chewed. It was maddening.
"Why is he still here?" she muttered under her breath. Her voice sounded small in the cavernous quiet of the nearly empty mall.
The other employees had already left. Only the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional clatter of her footsteps broke the silence. She was technically the last line of security tonight, and it wasn't a comforting thought. Earlier, she'd called the manager to shoo him away, but he hadn't stayed gone for long or hadn't left at all. He was persistent, and now the responsibility of dealing with him was squarely on her shoulders.
Her unease gnawed at her insides like a dog with a bone. She didn't want to deal with this. What was his deal, anyway? He'd mumbled something about "Wan Haven" the last time they'd spoken. The words meant nothing to her, but they sounded ominous, and that was enough to keep her on edge.
What do people do at Wand Haven that sounded like where witches stayed? Ewww, she thought to herself. Why would I ever want to go to a place where witches live? If anything, I would go to some place like Magickindom, where princesses exist, not where a bunch of long-nosed, hunchbacked, green-skinned ladies ride brooms at night. What could be so fun about that?
Arctha tried to distract herself by organizing the counter, folding and refolding a stack of T-shirts that didn't need folding, not to mention that was not part of her job. Her hands moved automatically, but her thoughts stayed fixed on the man outside. Every now and then, her mother's voice echoed in her mind, a haunting whisper of lessons long past.
"Guys like that don't just sit around for no reason. They're waiting for something. Or someone."
Her mom always had a knack for making everything sound like a disaster waiting to happen. Maybe that was why Arctha had spent her whole life second-guessing everyone and everything. Or maybe it was just her mom's way of deflecting from her favorite topic: Arctha's failures.
Still, the old warnings stuck. Don't trust strangers. Don't walk home alone at night. And definitely don't let weird guys in ridiculous hats with canes follow you around.
As the hours crept by, she started to feel like she was losing her grip on reality. Maybe she was imagining things. Maybe he wasn't as menacing as he seemed. Maybe the purple eyes weren't quite so piercing, and the cane wasn't quite so unnerving. Or maybe she was just spiraling because the mall was empty and too quiet, and her thoughts had nowhere to go but downward.
The loud clunk of the security gate locking into place startled her out of her thoughts. It was her signal to leave, whether she was ready or not. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and double-checked the locks on the store's doors. Everything was secure. Good. That just left the final challenge: getting past him.
Arctha lingered in the doorway, her fingers hovering over the keyring clipped to her belt. Her heart raced as she debated her options. She could take the back exit, avoiding him entirely. But something about the idea felt cowardly. Besides, she'd parked out front. The thought of walking through the shadowy back alley wasn't much more appealing than facing him head-on.
Squaring her shoulders, she stepped into the mall's main corridor. Her footsteps echoed as she made her way toward the exit. She kept her gaze locked straight ahead, but she could feel his eyes on her, sharp and unyielding. The closer she got, the more the air seemed to buzz with tension.
When she reached the lobby, she hesitated. There he was, just as she'd left him. His hat had tilted back further, casting dramatic shadows across his face. The cigar stub in his mouth had been chewed into a mangled mess, but he showed no sign of discomfort. He twirled the cane idly between his fingers, a casual motion that belied the intensity of his gaze.
Oh my god, this guy won't go away. Well, in cases like that it's good to be paranoid and wrong, then be calm and end up a victim; gods know what happens to those who aren't. They usually end up as one of Ted Blunder's victims, shredded like food in a blender, or they go chasing after someone who promises love and excitement, like Jeffrey Diner. He'll eat your heart out. Oh, um... so romantic. —though, lucky for me, I'm probably not his type, considering I don't wave a wand. But you get the point: steer clear of Kooks.
"Hey," she said, her voice firmer than she felt. "The mall's closed. You need to leave."
He didn't move. For a long moment, he just stared at her, unblinking. Then, with an unsettling calm, he said, "In front of you."
confused at the man's suggestion, she answered with, "Excuse me?"
"Keep. Your eyes. Forward," he repeated, each word deliberate.
Her instincts screamed at her to run, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her panic; maybe that would improve the possibility of him attacking her or doing something. Instead, she turned and walked toward the exit, her movements measured and deliberate. She kept her head high, but her pulse thundered in her ears.
She was so focused on maintaining her composure that she didn't notice the faint shimmer in the air ahead of her. It was subtle, like heat waves rising from asphalt on a hot summer day. By the time she realized something was off, it was too late.
The ground beneath her foot disappeared. She stumbled, reaching out instinctively for something to steady herself, but there was nothing to grab. A rush of wind roared in her ears, and the world tilted wildly. She felt weightless and untethered, as though she'd stepped into a void.
Behind her, the man's voice broke through the chaos, sharp and panicked. "No! Not now! This can't be happening!"
"Not again.".
She barely had time to process his words before a new voice filled her ears. It was soft and melodic, almost as if she was likening to a musical, and it carried a s warmth that unlike that weird looking man sharply with the man's frantic shouting.
"Welcome to Lala Land," a voice said, its tone both soothing and ominous.
Then the world went dark.