CREEPYPASTA

Camera #9

Erick arrived promptly for duty at 6:00 PM. He worked as a security guard for an upscale clothing store in the ritzy part of town. It was a pretty cushy gig; aside from the occasional trust fund kid doing a line in the bathroom or a sticky fingered girl needing her purse turned out, his shift generally involved watching monitors for twelve hours. This was even more true of the night shift, since the store closed at 9 PM. The lone guard watching the monitors through the night could sleep through half his shift and no one would be the wiser.

The chumps that worked the parking lot patrols in the shopping complex thought it was boring. To Erick, it was bliss.

The normal store hours wound down just as they always did, with customers walking the aisles, inspecting the clothes, and making trips to and from the changing rooms. Erick shifted in his seat, wishing there were cameras in those changing rooms. There were quite a few top quality trophy wives that shopped in this store, after all. Of course, the changing rooms were off-limits for cameras due to privacy reasons, so Erick leaned back with a sigh and began poking at his smart phone to pass the time.

Closing time came and went, and the monitors now showed empty aisles and abandoned cashier stations. The store was a darkened temple to consumerism, and Erick was the lone attendant priest. He passed the time intermittently glancing at monitors and playing the latest hit mobile game, doing his best to stay awake despite the quiet and solitude.

At around 12:30 AM, some movement on camera #9 caught his eye. Erick's eyes shifted from his phone to the screen, narrowing as they searched the CRT display. He saw nothing. Lowering his eyes back to the smart phone screen, he continued his imaginary conquests in his game. A half hour passed before he saw movement again. He glanced up again, then did a double take. He leaned forward in his seat, setting his phone on the counter and staring at the screen.

There was someone standing in front of the clothing rack.

The picture on the CRT was grainy, but judging by the length of the hair and haggard appearance of the clothes, it appeared to be a woman. Perhaps it was a vagrant of some kind? This was a hassle Erick did not need.

Erick stood from his chair. As he did, the figure's head inclined; it appeared to be looking in the direction of the camera, but the resolution made it impossible to tell for sure. Slowly the figure turned and walked towards the changing rooms.

Shit, Erick thought, moving quickly towards the door. He did not want to play hide and seek with the homeless at 1:00 AM. Grabbing his flashlight, baton, and his keys, he left the guard station. He turned, locking the door behind him before walking out into the store's showroom floor.

The eerily silent store spread before him as he made his way through the racks towards the changing rooms. Each stand seemed to loom larger in the shadows, and Erick moved carefully to ensure that each one was just that - a shadow. As he passed through women's wear he glanced up at the wall. There was a model there, clad in only bikini style underwear. He smiled up at the attractive woman as he walked, then felt himself bump into a large humanoid figure.

Suppressing a shout, he simultaneously shoved and scooted backwards, creating distance so he could draw his baton. He peered meaningfully at the fallen figure. A mannequin. Erick cursed under his breath, sheathing his weapon. He bent down and set the mannequin back upright, shamelessly coping a feel before straightening the blouse that it wore.

A soft thumping sound brought him out of his reverie and back to the task at hand. Resolutely, he strode the remaining distance to the changing rooms directly, intent on confronting the intruder and getting this whole thing over with.