CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I Took a Shortcut Through an Empty Mall. I Haven’t Found the Exit Yet" Creepypasta

Episode Date: February 12, 2025

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Frequent-Cat:   / i_took_a_shortcut_through_an_empty_mall_i_...  Creepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO-SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd...iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast...SUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS-►"Good Places to Start"-    • "I wasn't careful enough on the deep ...  ►"Personal Favourites"-    • "I sold my soul for a used dishwasher...  ►"Written by me"-    • "I've been Blind my Whole Life" Creep...  ►"Long Stories"-    • Long Stories  FOLLOW ME ON-►Twitter:   / creeps_mcpasta  ►Instagram:   / creepsmcpasta  ►Twitch:   / creepsmcpasta  ►Facebook:   / creepsmcpasta  CREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only

I've been feeling kind of off lately. Work has been insane, and most days I'm too drained to do anything, but go straight home and collapse in front of the TV. My routine's been the same for months. Walk out of work, zone out with my headphones, hope no one tries to talk to me, and drive home. It's not exciting, but it works. Or at least it did.

A few nights ago, I decided to do. to mix things up. Traffic was bad. The rain was coming down in sheets and I was tired of staring at the same depressing route home. I figured I'd try a shortcut, a faster way through the maze of downtown streets. The area's mess of half-finished renovations and old crumbling buildings, but I thought I knew it well enough to find my way. That's when I remembered the mall. I used to go there as a kid. Back then, it was huge and crowded, full of life. There was a carousel in the food court, bright neon signs everywhere, and this old candy

shop my mom used to bribe me with when I threw tantrums. But as the years went by, the place started to die. Stores closed and the crowds disappeared. Last I heard, most of it was abandoned. for a few discount shops hanging on by a thread. I was already running late and the idea of cutting through the mall popped into my head like it was meant to be. I figured, why not?

Even if it's mostly empty, it's probably faster than walking around the block in the rain. And hey, maybe I'll get a little nostalgia kick while I was at it. The entrance I found was one of their side doors, the kind that janitors or delivery work used. It wasn't marked, just a plain metal door tucked into an alcove, but it opened without much effort. No lock chain, no rusted overhandle, just a gentle push. And I was in. The hallway was dimly lit and the fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, flickering every few seconds. The air was stale, like it hadn't been disturbed in a while, and there was this faint smell of mildew That hit me right away.

But I shrugged it off. It's an old building. What did I expect? At first, it felt kind of cool, like I was stepping into a time capsule. The floors were that odd-school white tile with black accents, scuffed and cracked in places, and the walls were covered in faded advertisements for stores that probably hadn't existed in years. There was a quiet hum in the background. Fans or something maybe.

But no voices, no footsteps. Just stillness. Something that hit me was the silence. Not the kind of quiet you'd expect in an abandoned building. This was something heavier. The air felt dense, like the building itself was holding its breath. The faint hum of the fluorescent lights above was the only sound and even that felt like it was straining to break the stillness.

Most of the stores were exactly what I expected. Bordid up or empty shelves, their faded signage barely clinging to the walls. A few windows still had displays, but they were like time capsules, mannequins in dated outfits, old movie posters advertising long-forgotten blockbusters and sale banners with slogans that felt weirdly optimistic. a mystic for a place like this. I remember feeling a little uneasy, but I kept telling myself it was just the vibe of an old, abandoned mall. That's what happens when a place gets left behind. It felt like a ghost of what it used to be. But that was normal, right? Still, I picked

at my pace, hoping to get to the other side quickly. I just wanted to be out in the fresh air again. that's when I noticed something strange. The layout didn't feel right. I mean, it had been years since I'd been there, so I figured my memory might be a little off, but the hallways seemed wrong, longer than they should have been. The way they twisted and turned didn't make sense,

like the angles was slightly off. I'd walk for what felt like minutes, only to turn a corner and find myself back at the same sort. stretch of empty storefronts. Then I reached the food court, or at least what was left of it. It was completely empty, save for one table sitting dead center. Just one. There was a single chair pulled out slightly, like someone had been sitting there and left in a hurry. On the table was a styrofoam cup, and I swear I could see steam rising from.

from it. That's when I felt it. That first real twinge of fear. You know that cold rush you get when your body's sense as something is off before your brain catches up? I stood there for a long moment, staring at that cup, trying to tell myself it was nothing. Maybe it was an old trickle of heat from a vent, or maybe someone was here, just a maintenance worker or any person cutting through like me. I even called out. Hello? Anyone here?

Nothing. I should have turned back then. I should have taken my chances in the rain. But I convinced myself, it was fine. Just an empty building. People leave weird things behind all the time, right? So, I kept going. I turned the corner where the exits should have been,

and it wasn't there. No double glass doors, no faded, thank you for shopping sign. Just another hallway, stretching deeper into the mall. That's when it hit me. I wasn't getting out of here. Any time soon. I can't even tell you when it went from a little weird to full-blown terrifying. But it happened fast.

The hallways started to feel uncanny. Like, I know how ridiculous this sounds, but they weren't just hallways anymore. They stretched longer than they should have. And every time I thought I recognized the turn, it either led somewhere completely new or looped me right back to where I started. I tried to stay calm. Old buildings are confusing, right? But the more I walked, the more it felt like the place was shifting around.

me. Then I started noticing the details. The mannequins in the storefronts, I swear, they weren't in the same positions when I looked back. I told myself I was imagining it, but I'm not that imaginative. One minute they'd be posed normally, like you'd expect, arms out, wearing clothes from decades ago, and the next one would have its head tilted toward me, or its hand would be raised like it was pointing. And the walls. Got the walls. Some of the advertisements looked normal from a distance.

But when I got closer, the faces on them were all wrong. They were blurry, almost smudged, like someone had rubbed out the features. But I could still make out just enough to know they were faces. And the worst part? I thought I recognized one of them. It looked a little like me. Distorted. Warped.

I pulled my phone out, hoping I could get my bearings with GPS, or at least check the time. But that was useless too. No signal, no Wi-Fi, just a spinning loading wheel that wouldn't go away. And their time, it was all over the place. One second it said 447pm The next it jumped to 1113

Then it reset entirely Flashing with zeros like it just turned on for the first time I tried retracing my steps Backtracking the way I came But nothing lined up The food caught Gone The hallway with a styrofoam cop

Now it led to a dead end With the boarded up storefront I was sure I had to have I hadn't seen before. I kept walking though, because what else could I do? But the deeper I went, the stranger it got. Some of the hallways were so long, my phone flashlight couldn't reach the end. The beam just disappeared into the darkness, like the mall was swallowing the light.

The whisper started soon after that, faint at first like someone just out of earshot. but they were definitely there. I couldn't make out what they were saying. Just this low murmur, almost like the hum of the fluorescent lights, but alive. Every now and then, I'd hear a word or two. I think I'd heard my name once, but I might have imagined it. I hope I imagined it. And then the footsteps.

Got the footsteps. I thought I was alone in there, knew I was alone, but suddenly I could hear them. Just a soft, rhythmic tap, tap, tap behind me. I thought it was an echo of my own steps, so I stopped walking. They didn't. I whipped around, shining my flashlight down the hallway. But there was nothing there, just empty space. The sound stopped too.

Like whoever or whatever was making it knew I was listening. I waited, holding my breath, and after a minute I turned back around. The second I started walking again, the footsteps started up too. This time they were faster, louder, like something was closing the distance between us. I didn't look back again. I just started running. I don't think I've ever felt as relieved as I did when I saw that exit sign. After what felt like hours of wondering, corridors stretching endlessly, mannequins shifting when I wasn't looking, whispers that I couldn't place.

I thought I was done for. But then, there it was. The bright red glow of an exit sign above a heavy steel door at the end of the hallway. It stood out like a lifeline in all that darkness, a promise that I wasn't trapped after all. I don't remember how fast I moved. One second I was standing there, staring, and the next I was sprinting toward it, the sound of my footsteps echoing like gunshots in the empty space. My heart was hammering, but it wasn't from fear this time. It was relief.

I was getting out. The door was heavy, but it opened without much effort. The moment it swung open, I felt a rush of fresh air hit my face. It smelled like rain, clean and normal. I stepped outside and found myself on a street, one I didn't recognize, but looked like any other part of the city. I saw cars, headlights slicing through the twilight, slicing through the twilight. light, people walking along the sidewalks, some carrying umbrellas or shopping bags. It was just life, real, tangible, normal life.

I actually laughed. I know that sounds crazy, but I did. I laughed out loud, the shaky, almost delirious laugh. All the fear, all the weirdness in that mall. I'd let it get to me. And now here I was, standing in the middle of a busy street like nothing had happened. I even muttered to myself, You really need to get a grip, but then I noticed something.

At first, I couldn't put my finger on it. I was too busy calming down, trying to process everything. But as I watched the people in the street, I realized they weren't moving right. There was this stiffness to them, like their bodies were following a script but didn't quite know how to stick to it. One woman in a red coat walked past me, her arms swinging in a loop, the same exact motion over and over. A man across the street adjusted his hat, then did it again, and again as if stuck in a glitch.

And the cars? They were completely silent. No engines, no honking, nothing but the faint hum of the city, like a white noise machine trying to imitate what it thought a streets would sound like. I felt my stomach drop, my relief evaporated, replaced by a cold, sinking dread. Slowly I turned around, hoping, praying to see something normal behind me. I saw was worse. The mall was still there. It wasn't the same door I'd come out of though. This one was different, taller, darker, with warped glass that seemed to shimmer in the

light. It was like the building had followed me, refusing to let me go. The laughter I'd felt earlier. It was gone. All I could think was I didn't escape. I never left. I don't know why I went back inside. Maybe it was panic. Maybe it was desperation. Or maybe it was because the mall wouldn't let me leave no matter what I did.

But as soon as I stepped through the door, I knew I'd made a mistake. The air was colder, sharper. My breath fogged up and the faint smell. of mildew hit me like a punch. The layout was different again. The hallways were narrower, the walls closer, and I swear I could feel them pressing in like they were alive and watching me.

Every step I took made the floor creak under my weight, like the building was groaning, unhappy I was back. The mannequins were worse now. They were everywhere, lining the wind. windows slumped in the corners. The heads were gone, just smooth necks bent at our angles, as if they were staring, even though they had no eyes. Some of them still had their hands outstretched, frozen and strange, almost pleading gestures. I tried not to look at them, but I couldn't help it. Every time I glanced away, I could have sworn they'd moved closer. They weren't whispers in.

anymore. The soft murmurs had deepened into something cutural and low, almost like growling, but still just quiet enough to make me question if I was really hearing it. It sounded like a crowd, all speaking at once in a language I didn't understand. The echoes bounced off the walls, filling the air with this constant, oppressive noise that made it impossible to think straight. Then I noticed the signs. Storefronts that had once been empty, now had glowing signs, but they weren't advertising anything normal. Some just had my name in bold, flickering letters. Others had phrases that made my stomach churn like, we've been waiting for you.

One sign simply read, Don't run. I didn't know what to do. I kept walking, my legs moving on autopilot, while my brain screamed at me to get out. But there was no getting out. I rounded a corner and froze. It was the food caught again. At least I think it was. The same peeling tiles, the same dim lighting.

But now the table with a styrofoam cup wasn't off to the side. It was in the dead centre of the. of the room, like it had been waiting for me. The steam was still there, curling up from the liquid inside, but now the chair was pulled out and facing me. Sitting in the chair was a mannequin. It wasn't like the others. Its plastic skin was cracked, and its hand,

smooth, artificial and horribly human, was wrapped around the cup. Its head was tilted, almost like it was looking right at me, even though it didn't have a face. I don't know how long I stood there, staring at it. But eventually, my legs gave out. I slid to the floor, pressing my back against the wall as my chest heaved with shallow breaths. That's when I felt it. The wall behind me. It wasn't solid.

It was soft, warm, and it was moving, pulsing, like I was leaning against something alive. I shot up so fast I nearly fell over. My hands flew to the wall, touching it like I needed proof that it wasn't what I thought it was. But it was, it was pulsing beneath my fingers, steady and rhythmic, like a heartbeat. I panicked. I completely lost it. I don't even remember making the decision to run, but suddenly my legs were moving, carrying me blindly through the endless corridors.

I wasn't trying to think anymore. I couldn't. The walls pulsed. The whispers chased me, and the lights flickered in stuttering, seizure-inducing bursts. The shadows on the walls weren't staying still. anymore. They twisted and moved, stretching into shapes that didn't make sense. I screamed for help. I don't know who I thought would hear me, but I screamed until my throat felt raw. The sound barely seemed to carry. It just fell flat, like the air was swallowing it. I turned corners without thinking,

sprinting past storefronts that all look the same. The light above me flickered so violently, I could barely see, but up ahead there was something else. An exit. A glowing green sign above a heavy steel door. It was different from the others. No warped glass, no sense of wrongness about it. It looked real. It felt real.

But so had the last exit. I hesitated, torn between staying where I was and taking my chances with the door. That's when I heard it behind me. The shuffle of footsteps, low murmurs just on the edge of hearing. Something was coming, and it was getting closer. I didn't think. I just ran for the door and threw it open for a second. I thought I'd made it.

I felt the rush of air, the promise of open space. But then I looked around. I was back in the food court. At first it seemed empty again, just like before. But as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I realized I wasn't alone. The tables were full. Dozens of people,

what looked like people, were sitting perfectly still, facing each other. No one spoke. No one moved, and none of them had faces. Their heads were smooth and blank, featureless ovals of flesh-coloured nothingness. They all sat stiffly, the hands resting neatly on the tables. My eyes darted to the centre of the room, and there it was again. The table with a styrofoam cup, the steam still curling lazily into the air.

The mannequin was gone. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. The figures didn't react at first. But then, one by one, they began to turn. Slowly, methodically, they all turned to face me in unison. I stumbled backwards. My leg shaking so badly I almost fell.

My back hit the wall, and I realized there was nowhere to go. The figures just kept staring, whatever the faceless equivalent of staring was. I don't know how long I stood there, frozen, but eventually I heard it again, the whispers. Only this time, they weren't coming from the walls, they were coming from the figures. dozens of them all speaking at once in overlapping distorted murmurs like they were trying to form words but couldn't and then one of them stood up i couldn't move the figures rose from their seats one by one their movements stiff and unnatural like someone was pulling them up with invisible strings they didn't speak just that horrible overlapping whispered spring sound coming from all of them. It filled the air, pressing down on me until I thought my

chest might cave in. They surrounded me slowly, forming a tight circle. The faceless heads tilted as if studying me. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears, but my legs wouldn't respond. I was trapped. One of them stepped closer. Its movements jerky but deliberate. It reached out, and I wanted to scream, to shove it away, to do something. But I couldn't. Its hand was cold when it touched my face, like metal left out in the winter. The moment his fingers brushed my skin, a jolt shot through me.

Everything went black. When I woke up, I wasn't standing anymore. I was sitting at a table, the table, the one in the centre of the food court. A styrofoam cup of steaming liquid was in front of me, just like it had been before. For a moment, I thought I imagined everything. Maybe I'd passed out, maybe it was all some kind of nightmare brought on by stress or dehydration. I looked down, ready to grab the cup and shake my side. myself back to reality. But the hands resting on the table weren't mine. They were smooth,

plastic, and joined at the knuckles like mannequins. I tried to move them and they obeyed, but it didn't feel right like there was a disconnect between the command and the action. My breath caught in my throat and I looked around the food court. The figures were back at the tables, sitting still and silent, just like before. None of them moved, but I could feel their attention on me. My mind raised, trying to understand to process what had happened. But all I could feel was the crushing weight of realization. I was one of them now.

I don't know how long I sat there. staring at my hands and the cop in front of me. Time doesn't seem to work the same way here. I don't even know if I'm alive in the way I was before. But I can still think, I can still feel, and I can still remember what I was.