SOMETHING IS WATCHING PART3

 The figure was gone. I sat back in my chair, my body trembling. I couldn't do this anymore. My nerves were shot, and the rules, those damned rules, were starting to feel like a cruel game designed to break me. I just had to make it through the night. Just a few more hours, I told myself. The next hours passed in silence. I stayed in the security office, too shaken to do another round. I kept glancing at the monitors, watching the empty hallways, the still stores, the escalator that remained motionless now. Everything seemed calm, but the air in the office was thick with tension.

Then, I heard something that sent a cold wave of dread down my spine. A knock at the door. I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat. I froze, my eyes darting toward the security monitors to check the hallway outside the office. There was no one there. But the knock came again, three sharp raps against the door, as if someone was standing just outside. And then I heard a voice. Hey, how's the night going? Still think the rules are funny? It was the janitor, or at least it sounded like him. I swallowed hard, remembering rule eight. Lock the security office door between 4 a.m. and 4.30 a.m. and do not open it for anyone.

If they knock, they might not be the person you think they are. Check the cameras to confirm. I glanced at the clock. It was 4.03 a.m. My heart pounded in my chest as I checked the camera feed again. The hallway outside the office was completely empty, but the knocking continued, more insistent this time. The janitor's voice echoed through the door, sounding friendly, but somehow... off. Come on! Open up! I'll tell you what's really going on here. I stood frozen, my hand hovering near the door handle. My mind raced. It sounded like the janitor, but I knew better than to trust my instincts at this point. I checked the camera again.

Still nothing. The hallway was empty. I couldn't open the door. I wouldn't. The knocking stopped suddenly. Silence filled the office again, and I let out a shaky breath. I kept watching the camera, not daring to move until finally the janitor appeared on the screen. He was standing right outside the door now, staring straight into the camera. He knocked again. His face twisted into an eerie grin. I felt my stomach drop. The way he stared into the camera. It didn't seem human. His body started to waver, like he was made of smoke, and then, slowly, he dissipated into the air, leaving nothing but an empty hallway. I checked the clock.

 4.30 a.m. Whatever it had been, it was gone now. For the first time in hours, the air felt still. The oppressive weight that had been hanging over me seemed to lift, if only a little. I could feel the tension easing from my shoulders, though my body still felt like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment. I stood up, my muscles aching from being hunched over the monitors for so long. I needed to stretch my legs, to move around, if only to shake off the lingering dread that clung to me like a shadow. After everything that had happened, I wasn't keen on doing another full patrol, but staying in the office felt stifling.

Maybe a short walk, just around the immediate area of the office, would help clear my head. The mall was still deathly quiet, the faint hum of electricity the only sound that echoed through the corridors. The fluorescent lights flickered sporadically, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to shift as I walked. I kept my eyes down, trying not to focus on the mannequins, the stores, or the eerie silence that had settled over everything. As I rounded the corner near the security office, I nearly jumped out of my skin. The janitor was standing there, leaning casually against the wall with that same friendly grin he'd had the first time we met.

It was the real janitor this time, at least, I hoped it was. He seemed more... human, more tangible than the strange apparition I'd seen earlier in the night. Rough night? He asked, his voice light, almost teasing. I didn't know how to respond. I stood there, my mind racing as I tried to reconcile what I had seen earlier. The knocks, the figure dissolving into mist, with the man standing in front of me now. You could say that, I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady. He tilted his head, his grin fading slightly. You followed the rules, didn't you? I... tried, I said, my throat dry. What is this place? Why are these rules even a thing? The janitor let out a low chuckle, but it wasn't the friendly, warm sound it had been earlier in the night. 

 This laugh was hollow, tinged with something darker. I told you the rules are there to keep you safe, he said, his eyes narrowing. There's more going on here than you understand, much more. I took a step back, my unease growing with every word he spoke. What do you mean? What's going on in this mall? He shrugged, the grin returning to his face. You'll figure it out, or maybe you won't. Either way, there's no escaping it. He started to walk away, turning down the dimly lit corridor without another word. His movements were slow, deliberate, like he wasn't in any rush to leave. I couldn't let it go. I needed to know what he was talking about. I needed answers. Wait, I called after him, my voice echoing down the empty hallway.

What do you mean, no escaping it? What are you trying to say? The janitor didn't stop. He kept walking, his footsteps eerily quiet against the tiled floor. Desperation and frustration bubbled up inside me, and before I knew it, I was following him, determined to get some kind of explanation. I rounded the corner after him, but when I got there, the hallway was empty. He was gone. Again. My heart pounded in my chest as I stood there, staring down the empty corridor. There was no way he could have disappeared so quickly. He had just been there. I looked around, scanning the area for any sign of him, but the mall had fallen back into its eerie silence. And then I heard it. A soft, muffled crying. The sound was faint at first, almost too quiet to notice, but as I stood there, frozen in place, it grew louder, more distinct.

A woman's voice, sobbing quietly, somewhere nearby. My skin prickled with unease. I knew the rules. I had them memorized by now, and I knew exactly what this was. Rule 9. If you hear someone crying in a dressing room, do not open the door. I swallowed hard, trying to block out the sound, but the crying persisted. It seemed to be coming from one of the stores up ahead, the muffled sobs echoing faintly through the deserted hallways. Every instinct I had was telling me to walk away, to get back to the office, and wait out the last hour of my shift in silence. But there was something about the crying that pulled me toward it, an almost magnetic force that made it impossible to ignore.

What if someone really needed help? What if this was all in my head? What if the rules were just some sick jokes? I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I had already broken too many of the rules tonight. This wasn't a joke. The janitor had warned me, and I wasn't about to ignore him now. But still, the crying continued. It was louder now, more insistent, the sound echoing from somewhere deeper in the store just ahead of me. It didn't sound right. It was too hollow, too distorted, like a recording of someone crying rather than an actual person. I stood there, torn between curiosity and fear, until finally the decision was made for me.

The crying stopped. Suddenly, everything was quiet. Too quiet. The air felt thick, oppressive, like the walls of the mall were closing in on me. My chest tightened, and I realized I had been holding my breath. Then slowly, a figure appeared on one of the security cameras I had been monitoring through the corridor. I had left the office, but the cameras were still connected to my device. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen as I saw her. A woman, pale, with long, dark hair that hung limply over her face, obscuring her features. She was dressed in plain, outdated clothing, her body hunched over as she moved slowly down the hallway, her feet barely touching the ground. She was floating. My heart leapt into my throat as I watched her approach the dressing room, her body drifting closer to the entrance, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

She hovered just outside the door, as if waiting for me to follow her inside. I took a step back, my pulse racing. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. I had seen things tonight. Strange things, but this... this was something else entirely. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the figure to disappear, to leave me alone. When I opened them, she was gone. But the crying had started again, this time, right behind me. I didn't think. I bolted down the hallway, running as fast as my legs would carry me. The sound of the woman's cries echoed through the halls, growing louder and more desperate with every step I took. I didn't dare look back, didn't dare risk another glance. All I knew was that I needed to get out of there. Now. By the time I reached the security office, I was breathless, my entire body trembling with fear. I slammed the door shut behind me, locking it as quickly as I could, and collapsed into the chair in front of the monitors.

My chest heaved with each breath, the adrenaline still coursing through me. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered faintly, casting eerie shadows on the walls. I felt trapped, like a cornered animal, with no way out but the faint hope that my shift would end soon. I glanced at the monitors. My heart sank. There she was. The woman. The same pale figure, her hair hanging limply over her face, moving in that unnatural, hovering way. 

 She was no longer just roaming the halls. She was headed directly toward the security office. My blood ran cold as I watched her on the monitors. She floated down the hallway, closer and closer, her slow, jerky movements unnerving. She didn't walk like a normal person. She barely moved her feet at all, gliding just above the ground. The sobbing was gone, but the weight of her presence was suffocating. It was as if the very air around her distorted with her approach, bending reality