freewrite – 19oct2020
(cw: some mentions of death inside)
You shut the door in front of you and find yourself in a room. Running all through this mall trying to find that voice, the voice speaking to you that reverberates all through the building but that only you can hear, to find it's source. This was the final room. It looked just as empty as the other ones, the remains of what used to be a Woolworths here. They still hadn't found a buyer for the lot yet, or so the reports said.
“Give up yet? Ready to listen to me about what i really am?” There it was again... You didn't seem quite able to shut it off or block it out. Nothing helped, the voice coarsed through your brain, injecting it's way into your veins and memories. Your knees fell to the floor, your body coming along with you. It was speaking everywhere, indecipherable, incomprehensible, and yet somehow you could understand every word, no matter how many layers of sentencing rose up. The voice wasn't coming from inside the mall. The voice was the mall. It chose you, chose to reach out, in the hopes of finding someone to help it.
Ten years ago, this mall was built from the ground up. It was a large and intensive project, involving hundreds of workers and tons upon tons of supplies. Some of those supplies came from a factory in Canada. This factory was owned by two brothers who lived and shared everything together, until one day, one of them died. The other brother was heartbroken and ultimately decided that they could not live without them. In commemoration, their ashes were sprinkled and molded into a special set of concrete bricks, the most common type of bricks that they produced. These were never meant to be shipped out to other companies and were only keepsakes to remember what the company lost. None of the shipping staff were told this until it was too late, and they shipped the bricks over to the mall project. You can probably make an estimated guess as to what happened next. Somehow the ashes in the bricks allowed not just the bricks, but anything connected to and surrounding it to become sentient – a mashed up mixed consciousness from both two brothers, becoming one.
And now, they had chosen you as the first point of contact. You stood up again. You looked up and you could hear the sound of rain hitting the mall roof. A heavy storm. Nobody was going to be coming into this abandoned Woolworths, you figured, so no harm in staying here for a while and trying to process this whole situation. The shop had been completely cleared out of stock so there wasn't much interesting in the way of items to look at. The shelving units had a very thick layer of dust on them and the old POS has crinkles where water had gotten through and were starting to fade, a few already nearly white.