# 7 True Target Horror Story True Creepy Night Shift Encounter at Target Store

An episode of [AfterDark Reddits](https://invisiblenetwork.ai/podcast/1896809423), 26 Oct 2026, 55 min.

Audio: https://dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/api.spreaker.com/download/episode/74987383/038_7_true_target_horror_story_true_creepy_night_shift_encounter_at_target_store.mp3



## Transcript

[0:03] Speaker 1: It's weird how fast something routine can become ritual. The
[0:06] Speaker 1: hiss of steamed milk, the beep of mobile orders, the
[0:10] Speaker 1: same seasonal playlist on repeat. I used to work mornings
[0:14] Speaker 1: at the Starbucks inside Target store, Dargurlam 73, back before
[0:18] Speaker 1: everything went sideways. Now I stick to nights when it's slower, quieter,
[0:22] Speaker 1: and harder to think about all the things I've lost.
[0:24] Speaker 1: My name's Cassie Wu. I'm 24. And I started this
[0:29] Speaker 1: job six months after my twin brother, Evan, was killed
[0:32] Speaker 1: by a drunk driver two blocks from this very store.
[0:36] Speaker 1: His car got t-boned in the intersection where the turning
[0:39] Speaker 1: lane never got fixed, right where the target sign blinks
[0:42] Speaker 1: half dead above the parking lot. He used to come
[0:44] Speaker 1: visit me here, sit on a stool, laptop open, sipping
[0:48] Speaker 1: his caramel macchiato like it was a ritual too. After
[0:52] Speaker 1: the funeral, I couldn't go back to my old job,
[0:55] Speaker 1: couldn't deal with people who didn't know what happened. I
[0:58] Speaker 1: needed something, brainless, something corporate, Something with rules. Target had rules.
[1:05] Speaker 1: It also had Mike. He transferred from a store upstate
[1:08] Speaker 1: a month after I started. Tall, polite, with that sort
[1:12] Speaker 1: of harmless charm that makes you drop your guard without
[1:15] Speaker 1: even realizing. He picked up the worst shifts without complaint.
[1:18] Speaker 1: Helped mop when the closers didn't show. Always asked how
[1:22] Speaker 1: I was holding up. At first I was grateful. He
[1:25] Speaker 1: even remembered Evan's favorite drink, venti caramel macchiato, extra whip,
[1:30] Speaker 1: and made One for me on the anniversary without saying
[1:33] Speaker 1: a word. I didn't tell him that was the last
[1:36] Speaker 1: thing Evan ordered before he died. I don't know how
[1:38] Speaker 1: he knew. Then one night I caught the scent of
[1:41] Speaker 1: Evan's cologne, earthy with some kind of citrus sharpness, coming
[1:45] Speaker 1: off Mike's hoodie. I froze. He smiled, said he found
[1:51] Speaker 1: a nearly full bottle in the lost and found. Didn't
[1:54] Speaker 1: want it to go to waste, he added. That was
[1:57] Speaker 1: the first red flag, but not the last. It started
[2:01] Speaker 1: with little things. Mike began clocking out when I did,
[2:05] Speaker 1: even on nights when his shift ended earlier. Said it
[2:09] Speaker 1: made sense to walk to the lot together, safety in numbers,
[2:12] Speaker 1: all that. I didn't argue. Not at first. The lot's
[2:18] Speaker 1: sketchy after dark, and a girl did get her purse
[2:20] Speaker 1: snatched by the old seers last fall. Then he started
[2:23] Speaker 1: showing up with clearance rack gifts. A knit beanie in
[2:27] Speaker 1: my favorite color. A mug with the wrong Zodiac sign,
[2:30] Speaker 1: but a sweet note inside. Just felt like you'd need
[2:33] Speaker 1: this today. It felt like a big gesture disguised as
[2:36] Speaker 1: something casual. The weirdest part? He knew where I lived.
[2:42] Speaker 1: One night that he used to door dash near my
[2:44] Speaker 1: apartment complex. Recognize the teal balcony chairs, he said. I
[2:49] Speaker 1: laughed nervously and changed the subject, but my stomach dropped.
[2:53] Speaker 1: I never told him about those chairs. Evan picked them
[2:57] Speaker 1: out when... We moved in. Come November, he was on
[3:00] Speaker 1: every shift with me. Every. Single. One. He said scheduling
[3:06] Speaker 1: was random, but I checked. We used the same break app.
[3:10] Speaker 1: I knew he was picking around me and the way
[3:12] Speaker 1: he stood behind me at the espresso machine. Too close.
[3:16] Speaker 1: Always correcting me on ratios or milk froth like he
[3:19] Speaker 1: was the shift lead, which he wasn't. He wasn't. Even
[3:23] Speaker 1: barista certified. That's why he only worked nights. One Thursday
[3:28] Speaker 1: I found a note taped to the inside of the
[3:29] Speaker 1: milk fridge. Just above the oat milk I always grabbed first.
[3:33] Speaker 1: His handwriting. You look tired. Let me take care of you.
[3:37] Speaker 1: I threw it out. Pretended it wasn't creepy. But I
[3:41] Speaker 1: started keeping my phone in my apron pocket after that.
[3:44] Speaker 1: Started walking faster to my car. Started telling friends when
[3:49] Speaker 1: I was on shift. Just in case. This wasn't a
[3:52] Speaker 1: meet cute anymore. It was a slow spiral. And it
[3:56] Speaker 1: was accelerating. Thanksgiving. Eve was chaos. We ran out of
[4:02] Speaker 1: peppermint syrup by 9pm, and half the store looked like
[4:06] Speaker 1: a war zone. Abandoned carts, crying toddlers, cranky dads with
[4:10] Speaker 1: tangled lights and zero patience. I kept my head down,
[4:13] Speaker 1: working the bar solo after my closer bailed. Mike, of course,
[4:17] Speaker 1: stayed late, said he was helping out the floor team,
[4:20] Speaker 1: but I saw him hovering near seasonal. He wasn't zoning.
[4:24] Speaker 1: He was watching me. I tried to shake it off.
[4:28] Speaker 1: Poured another round of mochas. Took a breath. Then a second.
[4:33] Speaker 1: The peppermint smell wouldn't leave the air. Thick and cloying.
[4:36] Speaker 1: Almost artificial. Too strong even for holiday rush. It followed
[4:41] Speaker 1: me into the back when I went to restock syrups.
[4:44] Speaker 1: That's where it happened. The stockroom was half Starbucks inventory,
[4:48] Speaker 1: half forgotten seasonal junk. Reindeer lawn signs, fake snow, and
[4:52] Speaker 1: broken end caps. I was kneeling by the flavored syrups
[4:55] Speaker 1: when I heard the door click shut behind me. Then
[4:58] Speaker 1: I felt it. His presence. That thing where your skin
[5:02] Speaker 1: knows before your brain does. He didn't speak right away.
[5:07] Speaker 1: Just stood there between the cardboard towers and the emergency
[5:11] Speaker 1: exit that never opened from the inside. I turned slowly.
[5:15] Speaker 1: His eyes were glazed like he was rehearsing something. His
[5:18] Speaker 1: breath fogged the cold air. I smelled it then. Peppermint.
[5:23] Speaker 1: The same mocha I'd been drinking all week. The one
[5:25] Speaker 1: Evan used to like around Christmas. We're perfect for each other,
[5:29] Speaker 1: Mike whispered, and stepped closer. I felt his breath on
[5:34] Speaker 1: my neck. I didn't wait. I kneed him hard, straight
[5:37] Speaker 1: between the legs. He dropped. The scream that tore out
[5:42] Speaker 1: of him echoed through the rafters. It must have hit
[5:45] Speaker 1: a motion sensor, because five seconds later, the security alarms
[5:49] Speaker 1: and electronics started. Wailing. I didn't stop to check if
[5:52] Speaker 1: he was getting up. I ran. They called it an
[5:54] Speaker 1: incident report. Target HR sat me down in the tiny
[5:58] Speaker 1: back office the next day. Beige walls. No windows. A
[6:02] Speaker 1: manager I'd never met read questions off a laminated sheet.
[6:07] Speaker 1: Did you provoke the situation? Was there a prior relationship?
[6:12] Speaker 1: Are you willing to transfer locations to ensure safety? I
[6:16] Speaker 1: asked why I had to be the one to move.
[6:18] Speaker 1: The manager smiled tightly. Well, Mike claims it was consensual.
[6:22] Speaker 1: There were no cameras in the stockroom. No witnesses. No proof,
[6:27] Speaker 1: except a sticky note I'd thrown away and a feeling
[6:29] Speaker 1: in my gut that wouldn't hold up in court. The
[6:32] Speaker 1: cops took my statement, nodded a lot, and told me,
[6:35] Speaker 1: without physical evidence, our hands are tied. Mike didn't even
[6:39] Speaker 1: get fired, he got transferred. They sent him two towns
[6:42] Speaker 1: over to store Lumbergrew 1285, like he was a misplaced
[6:46] Speaker 1: end cap they didn't know what to do with. I
[6:49] Speaker 1: kept working the rest of the holiday season, because rent
[6:52] Speaker 1: doesn't wait for justice. But I stopped drinking peppermint mochas,
[6:56] Speaker 1: I stopped using the back hallway to the break room.
[6:59] Speaker 1: I stopped trusting anyone who said, hey, you okay? In
[7:03] Speaker 1: a tone that didn't sound like they meant it. Then
[7:06] Speaker 1: one night, I just quit. Dropped my apron in the
[7:10] Speaker 1: utility sink. Walked out without telling a soul. That Target
[7:15] Speaker 1: store still stands somewhere between a dead Sears and a
[7:17] Speaker 1: mall that hasn't updated its food court since 2003. The
[7:21] Speaker 1: Starbucks is still there too. Barely functioning. Stocked by people
[7:26] Speaker 1: like me who didn't have many options. Let them keep it.
[7:29] Speaker 1: Let them keep the peppermint and the red cups and
[7:31] Speaker 1: the HR scripts. I was done. I make coffee at
[7:35] Speaker 1: the Tarbucks across town now. It's not technically a Starbucks,
[7:39] Speaker 1: but it's close enough for people not to notice the difference.
[7:43] Speaker 1: We wear black aprons. We steam milk. We smile through
[7:46] Speaker 1: the rush. It's safer. Smaller. The kind of place where
[7:51] Speaker 1: the barista knows your name, not your trauma. I still
[7:55] Speaker 1: make caramel macchiatos sometimes. But now I use 2% milk
[7:59] Speaker 1: instead of whole. Evan used to complain about the calories
[8:02] Speaker 1: even though he'd drink two a day without blinking. And
[8:05] Speaker 1: when the stockroom door creaks open, I don't jump anymore.
[8:09] Speaker 1: I know who's on shift. I know where the cameras are.
[8:12] Speaker 1: I know that if someone puts their hands on me
[8:15] Speaker 1: without permission, I won't be the one forced to switch stores.
[8:18] Speaker 1: It took months to feel normal again. Even longer to
[8:21] Speaker 1: believe that normal could be mine. But now on my
[8:24] Speaker 1: 10 minute breaks, I sit outside on the curb by
[8:27] Speaker 1: the loading dock alone in the cold. I sip my drink,
[8:32] Speaker 1: scroll my phone, let my mind wander. And for once
[8:37] Speaker 1: I don't look over my shoulder. I just breathe because
[8:42] Speaker 1: healing doesn't look like justice. Sometimes it looks like getting
[8:46] Speaker 1: to finish your damn coffee in peace. I didn't expect
[8:52] Speaker 1: my life to stall at 22, but here I am,
[8:56] Speaker 1: working closing shifts at Target in a mostly dead strip
[8:58] Speaker 1: mall off Cedar Ave, while trying to stay ahead of
[9:01] Speaker 1: medical debt I shouldn't have in the first place. The
[9:05] Speaker 1: car accident happened three months ago. A delivery driver ran
[9:09] Speaker 1: a red light. I woke up in the ER with
[9:11] Speaker 1: a broken wrist, two cracked ribs, and no health insurance.
[9:14] Speaker 1: The settlement's tied up in court, so until then, it's me,
[9:17] Speaker 1: my employee discount, and a rotating diet of clearance microwave
[9:21] Speaker 1: meals and instant ramen. I usually take the 4 to
[9:24] Speaker 1: midnight shift. Fewer customers. Less smiling. Mostly just zoning. End
[9:30] Speaker 1: caps and folding sweaters. The store's massive, but it gets
[9:33] Speaker 1: weirdly quiet after 10 like the walls breathe differently. A
[9:37] Speaker 1: lot of the strip mall is abandoned now. There's a
[9:40] Speaker 1: boarded up Toys R Us across the parking lot with
[9:42] Speaker 1: graffiti that says still here in blue spray paint. Every
[9:46] Speaker 1: time I look at it, I get this pressure in
[9:47] Speaker 1: my chest like it's waiting for something. November 15th was
[9:51] Speaker 1: the first snowstorm of the season. Heavy flakes, sticky wind,
[9:56] Speaker 1: the kind of cold that seeps through your jacket and
[9:58] Speaker 1: makes your fingers... Stop working. I clocked in early to
[10:02] Speaker 1: get out of the weather. Only three of us were scheduled,
[10:05] Speaker 1: but by 10.30 the others had already left. I stayed late.
[10:09] Speaker 1: Had to. Rents due and I needed groceries. Might as
[10:12] Speaker 1: well work while I shop. At 11.53 I was cleaning
[10:16] Speaker 1: up the Halloween clearance aisle. One last chore before grabbing
[10:20] Speaker 1: eggs and heading home. The intercom crackled overhead. Team member
[10:25] Speaker 1: needed in sporting goods. But I was alone on the floor.
[10:29] Speaker 1: And my name was never called. Just... Team member. At
[10:34] Speaker 1: first I thought it was a misfire. Some leftover scheduled
[10:37] Speaker 1: message or glitch. It happens. Sometimes the system replays old
[10:41] Speaker 1: intercoms if no one's cleared them. Still the timing felt off.
[10:46] Speaker 1: The air was too still. I grabbed my walkie. Hey, anyone.
[10:51] Speaker 1: Still on site? I asked. Nothing. Just static. I moved
[10:56] Speaker 1: past the Christmas section where the displays were already half-assembled.
[11:00] Speaker 1: Motion-activated reindeer jerked to life as I passed, lights flickering
[11:04] Speaker 1: like faulty nerves. The fake snow crunched under my boots.
[11:08] Speaker 1: I turned the corner onto aisle D21 and stopped. There
[11:12] Speaker 1: was someone standing there. A man in a red Target
[11:15] Speaker 1: shirt crouched near the camping knives. His back was to me.
[11:19] Speaker 1: No name tag. No lanyard. His shoulders jerked, in this
[11:24] Speaker 1: twitchy rhythm like he was laughing or crying. It was
[11:26] Speaker 1: hard to tell. His hands were at his sides, balled
[11:29] Speaker 1: into fists. Hey, I said, hesitant. You need help? He
[11:36] Speaker 1: didn't respond. Just kept muttering something low and fast. Something
[11:40] Speaker 1: about inventory numbers not matching. And the red goes deeper. When...
[11:47] Speaker 1: He turned. My throat closed. It was him. Same exact
[11:52] Speaker 1: face from the missing person poster taped to the break
[11:54] Speaker 1: room fridge. Same sunken cheeks. Same tired eyes. I'd stared
[12:00] Speaker 1: at that poster enough times while nuking frozen burritos on
[12:03] Speaker 1: my dinner break. Name, Colin Reyes. Age 24. Disappeared in
[12:09] Speaker 1: 2003 from this exact target. He stared through me, pupils
[12:13] Speaker 1: blown wide, like he was seeing something behind me. Then
[12:17] Speaker 1: he smiled. A stretched, unnatural grin. That's when the lights flickered.
[12:24] Speaker 1: Every third ceiling panel buzzed out for half a second.
[12:28] Speaker 1: Long enough for him to vanish. I blinked. The aisle
[12:31] Speaker 1: was empty again. Only the camping knife display gently spinning.
[12:35] Speaker 1: One knife missing from its hook. I tried calling again. Security.
[12:40] Speaker 1: The front. Anyone. Nothing. Even the emergency override button on...
[12:46] Speaker 1: My walkie just let out a long, dead whine. The
[12:49] Speaker 1: building felt colder now, like the HVAC had switched to
[12:52] Speaker 1: some deep freezer setting. My breath came out in sharp clouds.
[12:56] Speaker 1: I turned to head toward electronics and regroup when I
[12:58] Speaker 1: heard footsteps echo behind me. I spun. No one. I
[13:03] Speaker 1: walked faster, cutting across home goods toward market. That's when
[13:07] Speaker 1: I saw him again. He was standing by, the bananas
[13:10] Speaker 1: in produce. No sound. No movement. Just... There. I froze.
[13:18] Speaker 1: He lifted his hand slowly, one finger to his lips. Shh,
[13:24] Speaker 1: he whispered. Corporate's watching. He wore a badge now, one
[13:29] Speaker 1: of the old ones from years ago. The plastic shimmered
[13:33] Speaker 1: like an oil slick flashing between day shift 2003 and
[13:37] Speaker 1: target security, like it couldn't make up its mind. I bolted,
[13:41] Speaker 1: tried the fire exit by grocery, chain shut from the outside.
[13:46] Speaker 1: I rattled it hard, but it didn't budge. I sprinted
[13:49] Speaker 1: toward receiving. The dock door controls were off. Power cut.
[13:54] Speaker 1: It didn't make sense. These systems were independent, battery-backed. We
[13:59] Speaker 1: had safety protocols. I was halfway through the stock room
[14:03] Speaker 1: when he appeared again, just a blur in the convex
[14:06] Speaker 1: mirror above the aisle. Always in front of me. Always
[14:10] Speaker 1: just around the next turn. I could hear him breathing
[14:13] Speaker 1: through the PA speakers now. Raspy, Wet breaths, like a
[14:17] Speaker 1: broken respirator. Then came the voice again, low and even.
[14:23] Speaker 1: Team member needed in sporting goods, I. Grabbed a fire
[14:27] Speaker 1: extinguisher from the safety cabinet and didn't think twice. Ran
[14:31] Speaker 1: back to the front doors and hurled it through the glass.
[14:34] Speaker 1: The first hit didn't break it. The second one did.
[14:37] Speaker 1: An alarm screamed into the snowstorm outside. Red lights stroving
[14:41] Speaker 1: across empty aisles. Cold air blasted in like a vacuum.
[14:46] Speaker 1: I jumped through the shattered opening, boots skidding across salt
[14:49] Speaker 1: and slush. And the weirdest part, the yow. Parking lot
[14:53] Speaker 1: cameras didn't move. I know because I've seen them rotate before,
[14:57] Speaker 1: but now? They stayed still. Pointed in the wrong direction. Dead-eyed.
[15:03] Speaker 1: I ran for my car. Behind me, I swear I
[15:07] Speaker 1: heard the door slide open again. Soft. Mechanical. Like a whisper.
[15:13] Speaker 1: Police arrived ten minutes later. I was still sitting in
[15:16] Speaker 1: my Civic, hands shaking, windows fogged. One of the cruisers
[15:20] Speaker 1: circled twice before parking. The officer approached slowly, hand near
[15:25] Speaker 1: his holster. I tried to explain what happened, about the man,
[15:29] Speaker 1: the glitching badge, the... voice. They listened, but I could
[15:34] Speaker 1: tell they didn't believe me. Then the second cruiser's radio crackled.
[15:38] Speaker 1: All units disregard 4200 Cedar Ave. False alarm. I watched
[15:43] Speaker 1: the officer's face. Confused, then blank. Guess someone tripped the
[15:48] Speaker 1: wrong switch, he said. I looked up at the store.
[15:51] Speaker 1: It was dark again. Doors sealed. Silent. They never even
[15:55] Speaker 1: went inside. I got written up for damaging company property.
[16:00] Speaker 1: HR said there was no call scheduled over the intercom.
[16:03] Speaker 1: No system malfunctions. No open tickets. The store's internal camera. Footage?
[16:09] Speaker 1: Showed me talking to empty aisles. They even emailed me
[16:12] Speaker 1: a still frame. Me pointing at a blank space where
[16:14] Speaker 1: I swear Colin had stood. No record of any employee
[16:17] Speaker 1: named Colin Reyes ever working there. Even the missing poster
[16:21] Speaker 1: vanished from the break room fridge like it had never existed.
[16:24] Speaker 1: I asked around. No one remembered him. I kept working
[16:28] Speaker 1: for another week until the nightmares started. Always the same.
[16:32] Speaker 1: I'm stuck inside the store after closing. The lights flicker.
[16:37] Speaker 1: The voice calls again. My name now. Not just team member.
[16:42] Speaker 1: I run but the aisles change. Loop. Fold in on themselves.
[16:46] Speaker 1: He's always waiting. In produce. In toys. In seasonal. Watching.
[16:51] Speaker 1: Now I work day shifts at a library. Safer. Quieter.
[16:55] Speaker 1: But last week I went to switch laundry in my
[16:57] Speaker 1: building's basement. And there he was. Not him. But the shirt.
[17:02] Speaker 1: Crisp red. Folded perfectly on top of the dryer. No
[17:05] Speaker 1: name tag. But stitched into the inside of the sleeve.
[17:09] Speaker 1: My apartment number. Now every time the automatic doors at
[17:13] Speaker 1: the grocery store open, I freeze. Just for a second.
[17:17] Speaker 1: Because I keep hearing it. That same soft scanner beep.
[17:21] Speaker 1: And I think, maybe I never really clocked out. People
[17:30] Speaker 1: always say, at least you have a job. Like that's
[17:33] Speaker 1: some kind of comfort when your feet swell and your
[17:36] Speaker 1: eyelids twitch from too many doubles in a row. My
[17:39] Speaker 1: name's Alex Rivera. I'm 21, and for the last eight months,
[17:43] Speaker 1: I've been working overnight stocking at Target Superstore T14228 in Phoenix.
[17:49] Speaker 1: I used to think I was going to community college.
[17:52] Speaker 1: Study graphic design. That changed when mom's lungs gave out
[17:56] Speaker 1: and the bills started showing up in red envelopes. So now,
[18:00] Speaker 1: I work 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. six nights a week,
[18:03] Speaker 1: pushing pallets through cold fluorescent aisles that never sleep. It's
[18:07] Speaker 1: a 24-hour store in a half-dead mall with only one
[18:10] Speaker 1: working streetlight in the lot. Flickers so much I think
[18:13] Speaker 1: it's coated in morse. The night this happened, July 12, 2023,
[18:18] Speaker 1: it was 115 degrees. At night. The kind of dry,
[18:24] Speaker 1: suffocating heat that clings to your uniform like a second skin.
[18:28] Speaker 1: I'd just finished restocking storage bins in home when my
[18:31] Speaker 1: walkie crackled, sharp enough to make me flinch. Alex Rivera
[18:35] Speaker 1: to Channel 4. Repeat, Alex Rivera to Channel 4. I
[18:40] Speaker 1: stood still, hand halfway, to my water bottle. Three things
[18:45] Speaker 1: were wrong. First, managers were the only ones who used
[18:49] Speaker 1: last names. Second, Channel 4 had been locked since last
[18:54] Speaker 1: summer's incident, the one no one talks about out loud. Third,
[18:59] Speaker 1: the voice? It sounded exactly like Mark, our day manager.
[19:04] Speaker 1: the one who froze to death in our walk-in freezer
[19:06] Speaker 1: last December. At first, I thought maybe someone was screwing
[19:10] Speaker 1: with me. But there were only two people on shift
[19:13] Speaker 1: that night, me and Jen in receiving. And I knew
[19:16] Speaker 1: for a fact she never used the walkie. Said it
[19:19] Speaker 1: gave her migraines. I picked mine up anyway. This is
[19:23] Speaker 1: Alex on one. Identify? Nothing but static. Then, we see
[19:29] Speaker 1: you in aisle H12. Switch to four or we'll come
[19:32] Speaker 1: to you. Seasonal aisle age 12 was supposed to be closed.
[19:38] Speaker 1: They'd ripped up half the floor tiles and the shelves
[19:41] Speaker 1: were still empty waiting for Halloween merch. No cameras were
[19:44] Speaker 1: working there. I knew because I'd been using that section
[19:47] Speaker 1: to sneak breaks when the stockroom got too loud. I
[19:50] Speaker 1: stared down the aisle. Empty. Silent. The music system, which
[19:56] Speaker 1: had been quietly pushing Christmas in July through ceiling speakers,
[20:00] Speaker 1: cut out mid-jingle. The silence that followed felt... manufactured. Too clean. Then,
[20:08] Speaker 1: from somewhere in appliances, A freezer door slammed. Hard. I turned,
[20:16] Speaker 1: half expecting to see one of the night maintenance guys.
[20:19] Speaker 1: But nobody was there. Alex to base, I said. Jen,
[20:24] Speaker 1: you copy? Nothing. Then the walkie flared again, only this
[20:28] Speaker 1: time overlapping voices. Static, layered with whispering like too many
[20:32] Speaker 1: mouths trying to speak through one throat. Alex.channel4. We miss you,
[20:38] Speaker 1: Mark misses you. I almost dropped the damn thing. And
[20:42] Speaker 1: then the PA system crackled to life, monotone and robotic.
[20:46] Speaker 1: Security alert. All team members to the back room immediately.
[20:51] Speaker 1: There were no other team members scheduled tonight, just me.
[20:54] Speaker 1: And Jen, who worked in receiving and never left the
[20:57] Speaker 1: stock room unless the fire alarm went off. I started walking. Slow. Cautious.
[21:04] Speaker 1: My boots squeaked louder than I expected on the polished floor.
[21:08] Speaker 1: Every end cap display looked off. like the mannequins, had
[21:12] Speaker 1: turned slightly when I wasn't looking. I passed the manager's office.
[21:15] Speaker 1: The lights inside were on. That's not right. They shut
[21:19] Speaker 1: off automatically at midnight. My reflection in the glass stared
[21:22] Speaker 1: back at me. For a second, it didn't move when
[21:25] Speaker 1: I did. I turned and walked faster. Past electronics. That's
[21:31] Speaker 1: when I saw them. Every demo TV flashed the same
[21:34] Speaker 1: camera feed. The loading dock. And standing there, lit by
[21:38] Speaker 1: the red glow of the exit sign, was someone in
[21:40] Speaker 1: a red Target polo, holding a walkie, facing the camera.
[21:44] Speaker 1: It was me. Not someone who looked like me. Me.
[21:49] Speaker 1: Same short curls. Same red hoodie tied around the waist.
[21:53] Speaker 1: Same barcode tattoo I got on a dare when I
[21:55] Speaker 1: was 19, visible just under the sleeve. He held a
[21:59] Speaker 1: walkie like he owned it, and on every screen, dozens
[22:02] Speaker 1: of them, he mouthed the same words. TOO LATE. The
[22:07] Speaker 1: walkie in my hand vibrated, then switched, channels on its own.
[22:12] Speaker 1: I watched it jump from one to four, the tiny
[22:14] Speaker 1: red LED clicking into place like a weapon being cocked.
[22:17] Speaker 1: Channel four active, a mechanical voice said from the speaker.
[22:21] Speaker 1: I bolted, ran through kitchenware, past domestics. Eleven aisles to
[22:25] Speaker 1: the emergency exit near grocery. Chained shut from the inside.
[22:30] Speaker 1: I checked the hardware. Not target's chain. Something older. Rusted.
[22:36] Speaker 1: I turned to double back toward receiving. Maybe Jen was
[22:39] Speaker 1: still here. Maybe this was a really elaborate prank and
[22:43] Speaker 1: she was filming the whole thing. Then I heard the
[22:45] Speaker 1: whispering again, this time from the shelf speakers overhead. Only
[22:50] Speaker 1: one word, repeated. Stay. All the lights dimmed, except for
[22:55] Speaker 1: the path back toward seasonal. The one place with no
[22:58] Speaker 1: working cameras, no working anything. I had two choices now.
[23:04] Speaker 1: Run and hope I wasn't the only person seeing this.
[23:08] Speaker 1: Or go back to where the voice started. Channel 4.
[23:13] Speaker 1: H12I walked back the way I came, my walkie hissing
[23:16] Speaker 1: and spitting static. Somewhere behind me, TVs turned off one
[23:19] Speaker 1: by one. And in every reflection, the version of me
[23:23] Speaker 1: in the glass started to lag behind. The heat dropped
[23:26] Speaker 1: 20 degrees when I stepped into aisle H12. Phoenix never
[23:30] Speaker 1: feels cold at night, even in winter. But... Here my
[23:34] Speaker 1: breath fogged the air. The shelves were still bare. But
[23:38] Speaker 1: at the far end of the aisle, a figure crouched
[23:40] Speaker 1: near the floor. Red polo. Black pants. Head tilted just
[23:44] Speaker 1: enough that I couldn't see the face. Mark? I asked.
[23:48] Speaker 1: Even though I knew, it wasn't him. The figure stood
[23:51] Speaker 1: up in one smooth, jerky motion. Like a marionette on
[23:54] Speaker 1: the wrong strings. It was Mark. Sort of. His face
[23:59] Speaker 1: was too pale. Lips a shade too blue. He opened
[24:03] Speaker 1: his mouth, but no sound came out. Just a breath,
[24:07] Speaker 1: white and cold, that rolled down the aisle toward me.
[24:10] Speaker 1: Then my own voice came. Through the walkie again. Back room. Now.
[24:18] Speaker 1: I ran. Didn't look back. Didn't think. I hit the
[24:22] Speaker 1: break room doors hard enough to bruise my shoulder. Inside,
[24:26] Speaker 1: it was lit like always. Clean tables. The vending machine
[24:29] Speaker 1: humming like it had no clue what was happening. And
[24:32] Speaker 1: taped to the fridge was a name tag, a Rivera-Sami
[24:35] Speaker 1: style as the ones used back in 2008. Edges cracked,
[24:40] Speaker 1: laminate bubbling. I turned around. Mark was gone. But in
[24:45] Speaker 1: the corner of the break room was a locker I'd
[24:48] Speaker 1: never seen before. My name was on it. Inside, a
[24:51] Speaker 1: fresh red shirt, still folded. They found my phone in
[24:54] Speaker 1: the break room the next morning, logged out, power dead.
[24:59] Speaker 1: Jen swore she saw me leave after my shift. security
[25:02] Speaker 1: footage showed me walking into the freezer around 3 10 a.m
[25:06] Speaker 1: and never coming out corporate blamed camera desync issues no
[25:12] Speaker 1: one filed a report the store stayed open they hired
[25:15] Speaker 1: replacements and sometimes during overnights a new guy swears he
[25:19] Speaker 1: hears someone stocking seasonal they'll hear walkies flip to channel
[25:23] Speaker 1: 4 by themselves hear my name alex echo from somewhere
[25:26] Speaker 1: near the back cold spots in age 12 never go
[25:29] Speaker 1: away even in the middle of a phoenix summer A
[25:32] Speaker 1: few months ago, a trainee quit mid-shift. Said he saw
[25:35] Speaker 1: someone staring at him through a demo TV. Same face.
[25:39] Speaker 1: Same uniform. Same tattoo. Now every time someone hears help
[25:43] Speaker 1: me on channel 4, they check the E. Freezer. But
[25:48] Speaker 1: they never find anyone. And the red shirt in my locker?
[25:52] Speaker 1: Still there. Folded. Clean. Waiting. Because in this store you
[25:59] Speaker 1: don't quit. You get absorbed. and I think, I think
[26:03] Speaker 1: I'm still on the clock. It's close to 10 p.m.,
[26:10] Speaker 1: and the air outside is thick and sticky, like wet
[26:13] Speaker 1: wool pressed against your skin. Orlando in August doesn't do subtle.
[26:19] Speaker 1: The Target parking lot is a mess, broken carts scattered
[26:22] Speaker 1: like abandoned relics, palm fronds and leaves left over from
[26:27] Speaker 1: last week's storm. I pull my sleeves down despite the heat.
[26:32] Speaker 1: Hurricane season means every little thing feels heavier, the air
[26:36] Speaker 1: charged like something's waiting to happen. I work at one
[26:40] Speaker 1: of the Disney parks, mostly behind the scenes, and tonight
[26:43] Speaker 1: I'm here with Jenny, my co-worker. We only get to
[26:46] Speaker 1: shop on nights like this. Our shifts end late and
[26:49] Speaker 1: payday's still a few days away. Targets are fallback, even
[26:53] Speaker 1: if this one feels half-empty and tired. The fluorescent lights
[26:57] Speaker 1: hum overhead, flickering in that Target store way. And the
[27:01] Speaker 1: smell of stale pizza from the food court lingers faintly
[27:04] Speaker 1: through the sliding doors. Jenny's already three aisles away, digging
[27:08] Speaker 1: through canned goods. I'm standing in aisle 22 comparing shampoos.
[27:13] Speaker 1: Damage repair, extra volume, color safe. My fingers tap the bottles,
[27:19] Speaker 1: my mind drifting back to the summer heat outside. It's
[27:23] Speaker 1: the only time I get to feel normal after a
[27:25] Speaker 1: long shift. Holding a bottle. Thinking about what I need,
[27:29] Speaker 1: not who I have to be for the rest of
[27:30] Speaker 1: the day. That's when I feel it, the breath. Hot
[27:34] Speaker 1: too close on the back of my neck. Those damage
[27:37] Speaker 1: repair ones don't work, a voice says low and almost casual.
[27:41] Speaker 1: I freeze. He's standing right behind me, too close. Wearing
[27:46] Speaker 1: a target red shirt but no name tag, like he's
[27:49] Speaker 1: blending in, but not really part of the team. The
[27:52] Speaker 1: shirt's soaked around the collar, sweat patches making it cling
[27:56] Speaker 1: to his frames. His eyes dart between me and a
[27:58] Speaker 1: security camera above, which is almost entirely blocked by a
[28:02] Speaker 1: bright yellow sail banner. Convenient. I swallow hard, trying to
[28:08] Speaker 1: keep calm. Jenny's nowhere nearby, just the hum of the
[28:11] Speaker 1: store and the occasional beep of a scanner from the
[28:14] Speaker 1: checkout lanes. You look like my ex, he says, licking
[28:18] Speaker 1: his cracked lips. My heart skips, but I don't say anything.
[28:22] Speaker 1: I glance down the aisle. No exit, just shelves packed
[28:25] Speaker 1: tight with hair products. He shifts to block my way. Hey,
[28:29] Speaker 1: what's your insta? He asks, voice low and sticky. I
[28:33] Speaker 1: shake my head, trying to sidestep, but he moves faster,
[28:37] Speaker 1: putting his arm against the shelf, blocking me in. Don't
[28:42] Speaker 1: be stuck up, he says, grabbing my phone while I'm
[28:45] Speaker 1: mid-text to Jenny. I pull back, but his fingers press
[28:49] Speaker 1: into my phone case, leaving damp fingerprints. The screen dims
[28:53] Speaker 1: in my hand. Panic swells. From somewhere overhead, the intercom crackles.
[28:59] Speaker 1: Security to aisle 22. But no footsteps come. My hand
[29:03] Speaker 1: finds the travel-size hairspray bottle near the shampoos. Flammable. A
[29:09] Speaker 1: warning label, clear as day. Last aisle. Chance, I say,
[29:14] Speaker 1: voice louder than I want. I'm bluffing, but I have to.
[29:19] Speaker 1: My boyfriend's an off-duty cop in electronics. He blinks. His
[29:23] Speaker 1: eyes dart toward the sporting goods aisle nearby. My words
[29:26] Speaker 1: land like a splash of cold water, though. There's no boyfriend,
[29:30] Speaker 1: just a desperate hope. That's when Jenny appears, practically marching
[29:34] Speaker 1: down the aisle. Behind her, five Disney cast members still
[29:37] Speaker 1: in costume, three princesses in glittering gowns a very tall
[29:41] Speaker 1: goofy waving his big hands like a superhero the man's
[29:44] Speaker 1: grip loosens he drops my phone it hits the floor
[29:49] Speaker 1: screen cracking like a spider web don't wait i grab
[29:53] Speaker 1: my phone and back away heart pounding like i just
[29:55] Speaker 1: ran a marathon target management called it an incident review
[29:59] Speaker 1: But nothing changed. Beige walls. A manager reading from a
[30:03] Speaker 1: laminated script. Questions about my role, about what provoked it.
[30:07] Speaker 1: The words felt hollow. Mike, or whatever his name was,
[30:11] Speaker 1: wasn't even an employee. No one saw the red-shirted man leave.
[30:16] Speaker 1: No proof. No footage. The camera was blocked, just like
[30:20] Speaker 1: I thought. The police came, took my statement, said there
[30:23] Speaker 1: was no crime because his hands were empty when they arrived.
[30:26] Speaker 1: Like that erased everything. But I bought pepper spray from
[30:30] Speaker 1: Sporting Goods with my employee. Discount the next day. I
[30:34] Speaker 1: keep it in my purse now, unopened, a quiet shield.
[30:37] Speaker 1: I changed how I shop too. I park closer to cameras.
[30:41] Speaker 1: I use self-checkout. I never text alone in the store anymore.
[30:46] Speaker 1: The scar on my phone screen is a reminder. Not
[30:48] Speaker 1: just of him, but of how close everything got. The
[30:52] Speaker 1: next morning I clock in and see three missed calls
[30:54] Speaker 1: from a blocked number. My phone buzzes in my pocket.
[30:58] Speaker 1: The screen lights up and without saying a word I
[31:00] Speaker 1: show my co-workers. They get it. No questions needed. It's
[31:04] Speaker 1: not just about Target or that night. It's about feeling
[31:07] Speaker 1: safe in places you should be safe. I'm still working
[31:11] Speaker 1: at Disney. Still trying to find balance between who I
[31:14] Speaker 1: am and what I survived. Sometimes the small victories matter most.
[31:18] Speaker 1: The hairspray bottle in my hand. The route I... Take
[31:22] Speaker 1: through the parking lot. The friends who watch my back
[31:24] Speaker 1: without ever saying it out loud. The heat is still
[31:27] Speaker 1: suffocating outside, but in here, under these fluorescent lights, I'm
[31:32] Speaker 1: standing taller, and that's enough. The buzz of fluorescent lights
[31:43] Speaker 1: overhead was almost deafening, but it was the only constant
[31:46] Speaker 1: in this late-night chaos. Black Friday had turned the target's
[31:50] Speaker 1: door into a battlefield. Shelves stripped bare, carts left abandoned
[31:55] Speaker 1: like casualties. I'm Jenna Lopez, 23, a cashier grinding through
[32:01] Speaker 1: my second job trying to keep the bills paid for
[32:03] Speaker 1: mom's treatments. Tonight's shift feels endless, and every minute drags
[32:08] Speaker 1: heavier than the last. I wiped down my register for
[32:11] Speaker 1: the third time, eyes on the clock when I caught
[32:13] Speaker 1: sight of him, an old man standing motionless in aisle seven,
[32:17] Speaker 1: the home decor section. His faded red shirt looked out
[32:21] Speaker 1: of place, stained and threadbare. His cart was odd. A
[32:25] Speaker 1: cracked vanity mirror balanced on top of a melted plastic toy,
[32:29] Speaker 1: a half-burned ledger book, and a dusty pack of matches.
[32:32] Speaker 1: He didn't move or blink, just stared straight ahead. Can
[32:36] Speaker 1: I help you find something? I called out. Trying to
[32:39] Speaker 1: keep my voice steady, he didn't respond. Instead, he muttered
[32:43] Speaker 1: under his breath, The bill's due tonight. A chill crawled
[32:47] Speaker 1: up my spine. When I blinked, he was gone. Vanished
[32:50] Speaker 1: like a ghost. I shook my head, telling myself it
[32:54] Speaker 1: was exhaustion playing tricks. But deep down, I knew something
[32:58] Speaker 1: was wrong. The store felt colder, darker somehow. Like the
[33:02] Speaker 1: hum of the lights was masking a deeper silence. I
[33:06] Speaker 1: scanned the aisle again. No cart. No man. Just me.
[33:11] Speaker 1: And the long, uneasy night still ahead. Curiosity and something
[33:16] Speaker 1: like fear pulled me toward the abandoned cart left behind.
[33:19] Speaker 1: I reached down and picked up the cracked vanity mirror.
[33:23] Speaker 1: The glass was sharp at the edges, but I couldn't look. Away.
[33:27] Speaker 1: Instead of my reflection, I saw something else. A burned-out
[33:30] Speaker 1: version of the target. Blackened walls and flickering emergency lights
[33:34] Speaker 1: casting deep shadows. A shadowy figure pushed a cart slowly
[33:38] Speaker 1: toward me, its outline blurred but unmistakably human. I yelped
[33:43] Speaker 1: and dropped the mirror. It shattered on the cold tile floor.
[33:47] Speaker 1: The store lights flickered violently. plunging the aisle into semi-darkness
[33:51] Speaker 1: for a moment before buzzing back on. My heart pounded
[33:55] Speaker 1: in my chest. I should have called for help, but
[33:57] Speaker 1: my voice was stuck in my throat. My phone buzzed.
[34:00] Speaker 1: I reached in my pocket and answered. It was Ryan,
[34:03] Speaker 1: my only friend here, checking in from the stockroom. I
[34:06] Speaker 1: told him about the old man, the cart, the mirror.
[34:09] Speaker 1: He told me to shake it off, that I was
[34:11] Speaker 1: probably just tired, but something didn't sit right. When I
[34:15] Speaker 1: tried calling him back, his phone rang from somewhere in
[34:17] Speaker 1: aisle seven. I froze. That was where the old man
[34:21] Speaker 1: had been. I followed the sound of Ryan's phone, trying
[34:25] Speaker 1: to ignore the sweat trickling down my back despite the
[34:27] Speaker 1: store's stale AC. The ringing led me deeper into the
[34:31] Speaker 1: dim aisle where the strange man had stood. But all
[34:35] Speaker 1: I found was Ryan's phone lying face down on the floor,
[34:38] Speaker 1: screen cracked. I bent down to grab it, the intercom
[34:41] Speaker 1: suddenly crackling to life with a voice that wasn't the manager's.
[34:44] Speaker 1: You're on the clock. Time to pay. The words were
[34:48] Speaker 1: a whisper. but sharp like ice against my skin. Panic
[34:52] Speaker 1: clutched my chest. I called Ryan's name out loud, my
[34:56] Speaker 1: voice echoing between the shelves, but only silence answered back.
[35:00] Speaker 1: The memories rushed forward. The history I'd overheard from older employees.
[35:04] Speaker 1: The Briarwood Mall fire. The janitor fired the day before the... blaze.
[35:10] Speaker 1: The rumors about his ghost haunting the place. I wiped
[35:13] Speaker 1: my clammy hands on my pants and gripped my phone tighter.
[35:16] Speaker 1: Something wasn't right here, and Ryan might already be trapped.
[35:20] Speaker 1: I took out my phone and frantically searched Briarwood Mall
[35:23] Speaker 1: Fire 1991. The headlines stared back at me. 19 people died.
[35:29] Speaker 1: Faulty wiring caused the fire, they said. But the story
[35:33] Speaker 1: got darker when I read about Earl Vaughn, the janitor
[35:36] Speaker 1: who was fired a day before for laziness, but had
[35:39] Speaker 1: supposedly warned management about the wiring. His warnings ignored, his
[35:44] Speaker 1: job taken, and his life lost in the flames. Locals
[35:48] Speaker 1: whispered that his spirit haunted the land. demanding accountability a
[35:53] Speaker 1: man who couldn't rest because no one paid the price
[35:56] Speaker 1: i felt a cold breath on my neck and spun
[35:58] Speaker 1: around no one just the endless rows of shelves and
[36:02] Speaker 1: the low hum of the store but the air had
[36:05] Speaker 1: turned freezing my breath visible in the dim light i
[36:09] Speaker 1: grabbed the nearest fire extinguisher heart thumping like a drum
[36:14] Speaker 1: i wasn't going to let earls ghost take ryan not
[36:17] Speaker 1: tonight I stepped cautiously into aisle seven, the air thick
[36:22] Speaker 1: with cold and something that felt like regret. The lights
[36:25] Speaker 1: flickered and there he was, the old man in the
[36:27] Speaker 1: faded red shirt gaunt, his eyes sunken and hollow. You
[36:31] Speaker 1: wear the red shirt. You pay the debt, he whispered,
[36:35] Speaker 1: voice hollow as the void. The shelves trembled like they
[36:39] Speaker 1: might collapse. I raised the extinguisher and swung. His form
[36:42] Speaker 1: shattered into shards of glass and smoke. Just as I
[36:45] Speaker 1: lowered the extinguisher, I heard Ryan's voice behind me. Jenna,
[36:50] Speaker 1: help me out here. I spun around, but the aisle
[36:53] Speaker 1: had stretched impossibly long, the walls peeling into ash and shadows.
[36:58] Speaker 1: The store was no longer Target. It was a trap,
[37:02] Speaker 1: a cage made of fire and regret. I reached for
[37:05] Speaker 1: Ryan's hand, but the darkness pulled us apart. The last
[37:09] Speaker 1: thing I heard before everything went black was Earl's voice,
[37:12] Speaker 1: chilling and final. The bill's due, People think the worst
[37:20] Speaker 1: part of working nights is staying awake. It's not. It's
[37:24] Speaker 1: the cold that sinks into your bones, and the kind
[37:26] Speaker 1: of quiet that makes you start imagining things. Every shift
[37:30] Speaker 1: starts the same. I park my beat-up Honda, see my breath,
[37:35] Speaker 1: cloud in the air, and brace for another eight hours
[37:38] Speaker 1: under fluorescent lights that buzz like they hate me personally.
[37:42] Speaker 1: I took this gig collecting unpaid debts for a third-party
[37:45] Speaker 1: agency after finishing a communications degree that got me exactly nowhere.
[37:51] Speaker 1: The Target across from our office complex stays open 24-7,
[37:55] Speaker 1: so on nights I finish early or just need a break,
[37:58] Speaker 1: I walk across the street. It's sort of like therapy,
[38:01] Speaker 1: but with fluorescent orange chips and self-checkout machines. I know
[38:05] Speaker 1: the Super Target better than my own apartment. Aisle 7's
[38:09] Speaker 1: light flickers so bad it could give someone a seizure.
[38:12] Speaker 1: Housewares has a security guard named Rick who naps behind
[38:15] Speaker 1: the throw pillows every night. And there's a blind spot
[38:18] Speaker 1: between men's socks and pet supplies where the cameras never reach.
[38:23] Speaker 1: Don't ask how I know that. December in Winnipeg is brutal.
[38:28] Speaker 1: The cold doesn't just bite. It gnaws. That night, December 18th,
[38:34] Speaker 1: the wind chill had dropped past minus 30. I'd just
[38:37] Speaker 1: gotten off a shift full of voicemails and hang-ups and
[38:40] Speaker 1: a guy who called me a leech. I pulled into
[38:43] Speaker 1: the lot like always, parked under the one working street
[38:46] Speaker 1: lamp and crunched through the frozen slush toward the sliding doors.
[38:50] Speaker 1: No music inside, no greeter, just the soft hum of
[38:54] Speaker 1: coolers and the too loud echo of my boots. It
[38:58] Speaker 1: felt off, like walking into someone else's dream. I told
[39:04] Speaker 1: myself it was nothing. I grabbed a basket and headed
[39:08] Speaker 1: toward frozen foods, but I wasn't alone. Aisle 12 was
[39:12] Speaker 1: colder than usual. I chalked it up to the busted freezers,
[39:15] Speaker 1: they're always overdoing it, but as I reached for a
[39:17] Speaker 1: pint of mint chocolate chip, I caught a reflection in
[39:20] Speaker 1: the glass. Someone was crouching, just past the novelty waffles,
[39:26] Speaker 1: dressed all in black, a ski. Mask or no appearance.
[39:30] Speaker 1: balaclava covered their face. Not browsing, not even pretending to,
[39:34] Speaker 1: just watching. I froze. My hand hovered over the freezer
[39:40] Speaker 1: door as my heart climbed into my throat. I blinked hard,
[39:43] Speaker 1: trying to make sense of it. Was it a prank?
[39:46] Speaker 1: Some weird TikTok thing? Then my phone buzzed in my pocket.
[39:50] Speaker 1: Unknown number. Did you forget me? My stomach twisted. I
[39:55] Speaker 1: turned around quickly, but the aisle was empty now. No footsteps.
[39:59] Speaker 1: No rustling. Just the cold settling over everything like a
[40:03] Speaker 1: heavy blanket. I backtracked, clutching my phone and fast walked
[40:06] Speaker 1: to customer service. Leah. I called out, but the girl
[40:10] Speaker 1: behind the counter wasn't Leah. She was new, maybe younger
[40:14] Speaker 1: than me, with tired eyes and a badge that said Chloe.
[40:17] Speaker 1: There's someone, like a guy in a mask. back and frozen.
[40:21] Speaker 1: She barely blinked. Tweakers come through sometimes. They usually don't
[40:26] Speaker 1: stick around. Chloe called for security over the radio. Static. Then,
[40:31] Speaker 1: no unauthorized persons on floor. I let her back, nerves humming.
[40:37] Speaker 1: But when we got to aisle 12, it was empty.
[40:40] Speaker 1: Not a smudge. On the floor. No lingering breath in
[40:43] Speaker 1: the air. The only thing out of place was the
[40:46] Speaker 1: feeling crawling up my spine. He was right there, I insisted.
[40:50] Speaker 1: She gave me a look, half sympathetic, half skeptical. I
[40:55] Speaker 1: left without buying anything. That night, I parked closer to
[40:59] Speaker 1: my building than usual. I triple-checked my locks. The message
[41:04] Speaker 1: stayed on my phone, unread, but never deleted. A week passed.
[41:10] Speaker 1: I convinced myself it was a fluke, some late-night druggie,
[41:13] Speaker 1: nothing personal. I blocked the number, burned Sage and got
[41:17] Speaker 1: drunk one night and cried to a podcast about setting boundaries.
[41:21] Speaker 1: But December 25th was coming fast. And when you work nights,
[41:26] Speaker 1: holidays don't mean rest. They mean extra shifts. It was 2.41 a.m.
[41:32] Speaker 1: when I walked into Super Target again, looking for an
[41:34] Speaker 1: energy drink and maybe a reason to keep pushing forward.
[41:38] Speaker 1: I'd spent most of the night on the phone with
[41:40] Speaker 1: a guy who owed eight grand in medical debt and
[41:42] Speaker 1: accused me of being part of a conspiracy. Same cold.
[41:46] Speaker 1: Same empty store. I was in beverages, second fridge door open,
[41:51] Speaker 1: when I heard it. Scree, each dot, a metal. Grown,
[41:56] Speaker 1: loud and out of place. I looked up. Across the store,
[42:00] Speaker 1: near the loading dock, a security door was half-lifted. Through
[42:03] Speaker 1: the greasy little window beside it, I saw the figure again.
[42:07] Speaker 1: Same mask. Same posture. Like he was crouched to pounce.
[42:12] Speaker 1: But this time he was holding something long and metal.
[42:15] Speaker 1: A crowbar? And then my phone vibrated. Another unknown number.
[42:22] Speaker 1: Her car looks cold. I dropped the monster. The can
[42:27] Speaker 1: rolled under the shelves as my keys slipped from my hand.
[42:31] Speaker 1: It was like my body stopped listening to my brain.
[42:33] Speaker 1: I was suddenly 12 years old again, hiding from a
[42:36] Speaker 1: drunk uncle in a dark hallway. I didn't go to
[42:39] Speaker 1: customer service this time. I just ran out the front
[42:43] Speaker 1: doors into the lot toward my freezing car. And then
[42:47] Speaker 1: I heard footsteps. Crisp. Close. Crunching. Ice just a few
[42:53] Speaker 1: paces behind me. I fumbled with my keys. My fingers
[42:57] Speaker 1: were too numb slipping on the plastic fob as the
[43:00] Speaker 1: wind screamed around me. My breath came out in ragged clouds.
[43:05] Speaker 1: I could feel him. Whoever he was, right there. The
[43:09] Speaker 1: hood of my jacket was yanked backward. I spun. My
[43:13] Speaker 1: keys swung wide, clipping something solid. He staggered slightly. The
[43:18] Speaker 1: balaclava slipped just enough in the scuffle to reveal his face.
[43:22] Speaker 1: Or part of it. A mole on his right cheek.
[43:26] Speaker 1: Chipped front tooth. The faded scent of that awful cologne
[43:30] Speaker 1: he used to wear. Some cheap bottle from a Christmas
[43:32] Speaker 1: gift set I bought him two years ago. My ex. Danny.
[43:37] Speaker 1: I swear it was him. But just as fast, the
[43:40] Speaker 1: moment shattered. Headlights flashed across the lot. Tires screeched, the
[43:46] Speaker 1: TUM night manager's truck barreled toward us like salvation. Danny,
[43:50] Speaker 1: or whoever it was, bolted between parked cars and vanished
[43:54] Speaker 1: into the dark. The manager, Jeff, jumped out and shouted something,
[43:59] Speaker 1: but I couldn't hear. My heart was pounding too, hard.
[44:03] Speaker 1: My knees gave out and I sat in the snow
[44:05] Speaker 1: like a dropped marionette. The police came, took my statement,
[44:08] Speaker 1: I told them everything, gave them the messages, but Danny,
[44:11] Speaker 1: he had an alibi. Photos, witness statements, even a video
[44:14] Speaker 1: of him handing out socks at a shelter downtown. Said
[44:17] Speaker 1: he hadn't been near a target in weeks. Probably. Some
[44:21] Speaker 1: junkie who looks like him, one officer said shrugging. You
[44:25] Speaker 1: said it was dark, right? I quit my job the
[44:27] Speaker 1: next morning. Filed for a change of address. Took out
[44:31] Speaker 1: another student loan just to get away. It's been three
[44:34] Speaker 1: months I'm back living with my aunt in the suburbs now.
[44:37] Speaker 1: Got a temp job sorting mail for a logistics company. Quiet. Predictable.
[44:42] Speaker 1: No night shifts. No creepy late runs to target. And... Still.
[44:47] Speaker 1: I don't sleep well. Every time I drive by a
[44:50] Speaker 1: super target, even in daylight, I check my backseat twice.
[44:54] Speaker 1: Sometimes I think I see something in the rear view.
[44:57] Speaker 1: A dark shape. A glimpse of a mask. But it's
[45:00] Speaker 1: always just a shadow or a trick of the light.
[45:03] Speaker 1: The police never followed up. Danny and I haven't spoken.
[45:06] Speaker 1: His number's blocked. All my socials are gone now. Instagram...
[45:12] Speaker 1: facebook even linkedin but that didn't stop the ads from
[45:16] Speaker 1: showing up first camping gear then security cameras last week
[45:21] Speaker 1: a sponsored post for black balaclavas same make same design
[45:27] Speaker 1: there's this one thought i can't shake what if it
[45:30] Speaker 1: wasn't danny what if it was someone pretending to be
[45:34] Speaker 1: him someone who knew what cologne he wore knew what
[45:37] Speaker 1: he looked like knew everything about me knew my schedule
[45:40] Speaker 1: my phone number Where I parked. Because here's the thing.
[45:44] Speaker 1: I never told anyone about the blind spot. In Target.
[45:48] Speaker 1: Never posted about it. Never mentioned the cold car or
[45:51] Speaker 1: my favorite flavor of ice cream or where I kept
[45:53] Speaker 1: my spare key. And yet, he knew. So now I
[45:58] Speaker 1: sleep with a bat beside my bed. And when the
[46:00] Speaker 1: wind hits the windows just right, I swear I still
[46:03] Speaker 1: hear the sliding doors open. Soft. Slow. Welcoming. Like they're
[46:10] Speaker 1: expecting me back. I'd been pulling double shifts for weeks
[46:17] Speaker 1: at Target. My life was circling the drain in slow motion, quiet, relentless.
[46:23] Speaker 1: I was 20, no car, working at a 24-hour store
[46:27] Speaker 1: in the outer suburbs of Brisbane. Not exactly the American dream,
[46:31] Speaker 1: I know, but I was American once. Moved to Australia
[46:35] Speaker 1: after high school with my mom. She left. I stayed.
[46:39] Speaker 1: I owed three different buy-now-pay-later apps more than I even
[46:43] Speaker 1: made last month. Missed payments stacked like bricks. My phone
[46:47] Speaker 1: screen was cracked in three places and my roommate ghosted
[46:50] Speaker 1: me on rent, leaving me with a week to pay
[46:53] Speaker 1: or lose the unit. Repo guys had taken my Corolla
[46:56] Speaker 1: two nights before. I didn't even hear them, just walked
[47:00] Speaker 1: out to an empty space and sighed like I knew
[47:02] Speaker 1: it was coming. So I worked and worked. Anything to
[47:07] Speaker 1: numb the panic chewing through my chest. On January 15th,
[47:11] Speaker 1: I picked up a graveyard shift. 9 p.m. to 5 a.m.
[47:16] Speaker 1: Management said they were short-staffed. Really, they just didn't want
[47:19] Speaker 1: to hire full-time. No benefits. It was the kind of
[47:23] Speaker 1: humid summer night where your shirt sticks to your back
[47:25] Speaker 1: before you even clock in. The cicadas were going nuts outside.
[47:30] Speaker 1: The air tasted like sweat and electric buzz. The shopping
[47:33] Speaker 1: complex was practically abandoned. Just us, a shuttered Kmart, and
[47:39] Speaker 1: a lonely servo a few blocks down. By 1.30 a.m.,
[47:44] Speaker 1: I was deep in the electronics section, zoning shelves like
[47:47] Speaker 1: a zombie, trying not to think about rent or my
[47:50] Speaker 1: dwindling bank balance. That's when I heard the front door chime. Motion. Sensor.
[47:56] Speaker 1: Beeped like someone had come in. But the floor was
[47:59] Speaker 1: dead empty, and I was supposed to be alone. At
[48:02] Speaker 1: first I figured maybe the wind triggered the doors. Happens sometimes.
[48:07] Speaker 1: The automatic ones are twitchy at night. I walked to
[48:10] Speaker 1: the end of the aisle and looked across homewares. That's
[48:13] Speaker 1: when I saw it. A figure, still, too tall. Just
[48:16] Speaker 1: standing there like a mannequin someone forgot to dress, I
[48:18] Speaker 1: grabbed my walkie. Uh, anyone else on the floor? No answer.
[48:24] Speaker 1: I tried again. Louder. Just static. And then... A voice.
[48:32] Speaker 1: Not from the walkie. Not out loud. Somewhere in between. Eli.
[48:38] Speaker 1: Channel 3. I froze. The kind of cold that starts
[48:41] Speaker 1: in your spine and leaks out into your limbs. Nobody
[48:44] Speaker 1: was supposed to know my name. Channel 3 hadn't been
[48:48] Speaker 1: used since last year. Management shut it down after some
[48:51] Speaker 1: prankster kept hijacking frequencies. But my thumb flicked the dial anyway.
[48:57] Speaker 1: I don't know why. Fear, curiosity, maybe both. Hello? I
[49:02] Speaker 1: said into the walkie, voice tight. Nothing for a beat. Then,
[49:07] Speaker 1: you left your locker open. The words made my stomach twist.
[49:11] Speaker 1: I had left it open. I'd been rushing after clocking in.
[49:15] Speaker 1: Inside my locker was an address slip from a package
[49:18] Speaker 1: I never picked up. Full name, apartment, phone number, stupid.
[49:22] Speaker 1: I moved fast. Back through menswear, past bedding, toward the
[49:25] Speaker 1: customer service desk where the panic button was. That's when
[49:29] Speaker 1: I heard it. Footsteps. Not running. Strolling. Slow, confident, like
[49:36] Speaker 1: whoever it was already knew where I was going. In appliances,
[49:41] Speaker 1: a fridge display light flickered. A man in a high-vis vest,
[49:45] Speaker 1: not red, not khakis, was leaning like he'd been waiting.
[49:48] Speaker 1: He looked up when I passed, smiled. You left your
[49:52] Speaker 1: locker open. This time, he said it out loud. I
[49:56] Speaker 1: didn't wait to hear anything else. I turned on my
[50:00] Speaker 1: heel and ran for the staff hallway, shoes skidding on
[50:02] Speaker 1: the slick vinyl floor. I reached the back door, where
[50:06] Speaker 1: we clock in, where the smokers sneak out, where I
[50:08] Speaker 1: knew there'd be a fire exit. Locked, I yanked harder,
[50:12] Speaker 1: no budge. Behind me, the walkie crackled again. Wrong choice.
[50:18] Speaker 1: I turned to see if he was following. Nothing. No one.
[50:22] Speaker 1: But the air felt charged, like I'd stepped too close
[50:25] Speaker 1: to an electric fence. I hit the emergency bar on
[50:28] Speaker 1: the exit. The door slammed open and alarms screamed high-pitched
[50:31] Speaker 1: and metallic. Red lights flashed above me as I burst
[50:34] Speaker 1: into the parking lot, gulping in the heavy night air
[50:37] Speaker 1: like I'd been underwater. The lot was deserted. No security.
[50:42] Speaker 1: No cars. Except for one ute, idling at the edge
[50:46] Speaker 1: of the lot, under a dead lamp. It had no plates.
[50:51] Speaker 1: Its passenger door was open. Not swinging. Just open. Like
[50:56] Speaker 1: it had been waiting. I slowed for a second. Something
[51:00] Speaker 1: primal in my brain told me don't run to your left.
[51:04] Speaker 1: That's where it was parked. I bolted toward the opposite end.
[51:08] Speaker 1: weaving through stray carts and painted lines. I didn't look back.
[51:13] Speaker 1: Not until I reached the loading dock ramp. When I turned,
[51:16] Speaker 1: the ute was gone, no engine noise, no headlights. Just gone.
[51:20] Speaker 1: I stood there, shaking, waiting for something, security, police, anything,
[51:24] Speaker 1: but nothing came. The alarms had stopped. The silence returned,
[51:29] Speaker 1: thicker than before. I slipped back inside the fire exit.
[51:33] Speaker 1: No sign of the guy. No voices on the... walkie.
[51:38] Speaker 1: only the distant hum of fluorescent lights, and somewhere deep
[51:41] Speaker 1: in the building, laughter. By the time the cops arrived,
[51:46] Speaker 1: called by an automatic alarm trigger, I'd calmed down just
[51:50] Speaker 1: enough to explain, but not enough to stop my hands
[51:53] Speaker 1: from trembling. Two officers walked the floor with me. We
[51:57] Speaker 1: checked every aisle, every camera angle. I showed them the
[52:00] Speaker 1: electronics section where it started, the staff door, appliances. There
[52:05] Speaker 1: was nothing, no man, No Ute. Nothing weird in the
[52:09] Speaker 1: footage either. Except, they lost signal on a few of
[52:13] Speaker 1: the cameras for roughly five minutes, just in the areas
[52:16] Speaker 1: I'd mentioned. The cops took a statement, but I could
[52:19] Speaker 1: tell they weren't buying it. One of them asked if
[52:22] Speaker 1: I'd been sleeping in the break room. The other just
[52:24] Speaker 1: kept looking at me like I'd wasted their time. I
[52:27] Speaker 1: didn't tell them about the voice knowing my name, or
[52:29] Speaker 1: Channel 3. What would be the point? The next day,
[52:34] Speaker 1: I got pulled into the manager's office. We reviewed what happened,
[52:38] Speaker 1: she said, not looking up from her computer. You created
[52:41] Speaker 1: a serious disturbance. I blinked. You think I made it up?
[52:46] Speaker 1: Customers were upset. Emergency services were called. There's a process, Eli.
[52:51] Speaker 1: So I'm being punished for reporting something? She leaned back,
[52:55] Speaker 1: crossing her arms. You're being suspended for violating emergency protocol.
[52:59] Speaker 1: We'll reevaluate next week. That was it. No concern. No follow-up.
[53:04] Speaker 1: No how are you doing. I left through the same
[53:06] Speaker 1: staff door, this time unlocked in broad daylight. Still felt
[53:10] Speaker 1: like someone was watching. I didn't sleep for two days.
[53:14] Speaker 1: Every time I shut my eyes, I saw the high-vis vest,
[53:17] Speaker 1: the open ute door, the E, flickering lights I stopped
[53:20] Speaker 1: going to target. Couldn't even walk past the shopping complex.
[53:24] Speaker 1: Just the buzz of fluorescent lighting was enough to make
[53:27] Speaker 1: my hands sweat. I tried to get a shift at
[53:30] Speaker 1: a cafe down the road. They weren't hiring. Rent was
[53:33] Speaker 1: still due. My account balance read 12-44. Some nights, I
[53:39] Speaker 1: still heard the voice. Not in my head. Through my
[53:43] Speaker 1: busted phone speaker and static, when I opened old voicemails.
[53:48] Speaker 1: Channel 3. One time I found a folded high-vis vest
[53:51] Speaker 1: outside my apartment door. Same kind. No note. No explanation.
[53:58] Speaker 1: The landlord swore no one came up the stairs. The
[54:01] Speaker 1: CCTV in our building malfunctioned. That vest is still in
[54:05] Speaker 1: my closet. I can't bring myself to throw it away.
[54:08] Speaker 1: Like if I touch it, I'll summon him again. I
[54:10] Speaker 1: don't know if it was random, if I was unlucky,
[54:14] Speaker 1: or if I was picked because I was alone, tired, broke. Easy.
[54:21] Speaker 1: Sometimes I stare at my phone and wait for it
[54:23] Speaker 1: to buzz. When it does, I don't answer. Don't want
[54:28] Speaker 1: to know who's on the other end. But deep down,
[54:30] Speaker 1: I already do. And every time I pass a walkie-talkie
[54:34] Speaker 1: display in some discount shop, I wonder, what channel are
[54:38] Speaker 1: they listening to now?

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