The Wattpad HQ Team is stuck in Toronto while the ten organizer of Wattcon Syracuse wait out the storm in Carousel Mall. We are looking for some sign that anyone here is a Wattpad member attending the event. Nobody is, it's just us. What started off as a couple inches of snow, quickly turned into an onslaught of furious white flakes, and not a single person aside from us was able to make it. Ten minutes later a voice on the intercom announces the closing of the mall and mandatory evacuations. Of course we have to wait on Sally Mason and Talia to finish up whatever they are doing in the bathroom before we can leave. The security guard is all but forcing us out the door as we shout for the girls to hurry up.

With the glass elevator doors in-sight, our nice warm beds in the suites above the mall are all I am able to think about. The security guard hits the button, but the doors won't open. He taps it a couple more times. Nothing. Radioing to another guard, he walks off, leaving us wondering what to do next.

Karim runs to check the stairs. "Under construction." He scratches his head for another solution.

As we begin to realize that we are actually trapped in the mall, the power goes out.

"We can't be stuck! We're all gonna die!" Talia screams.

We try to comfort her as as she takes a few deep breaths to calm herself down. Walking together, we make it to an outdoor sports store and sit around a campfire display between the fishing equipment and a giant trampoline. Ali Novak has her phone out, searching for a signal so she can call her family. No signal.

The storm outside must have knocked down the closest cell tower.

Talia stands up, scanning the room with her legs crossed, performing some sort of bathroom dance. Noticing the large sign across the mall, she makes an awkward jog,

"I'll be right back!" she shouts.

Suddenly, Shaun rubs his hands together as if the feux-fire would warm him up.

"How about some stories?" he asks with an awkward smile on his face. His british accent makes it hard to take him seriously. But he takes a deep breath and starts reciting a story with a grimacing smile on his face.

The storm raged. That's what storms did, didn't they? Raged? You never had a calm storm. One which played a little chess or drank coffee between throwing gusts of wind, flurries of snow and splatters of rain again the people and buildings below. No. They always raged.

There was the calm before the storm, but that was just the lull of false security to make the fury that much more effective. The barrage was as if the wind suffered from anger management issues and someone had left the top off the milk and forgot to put it back in the fridge. The windows shook in fear and even the building itself showed a nervous shudder every so often.

The group huddled down. The heating had failed hours before and the breath left their bodies in ethereal wisps looking like their spirits searching for the hereafter in the chill air of the store. Even with the fort constructed from pillows and blankets, held up by cabinets and chairs dragged to the centre of the room, they shivered together.

Building the fort had seemed to be a good idea. Surely blankets would insulate as well as an igloo would, wouldn't they? And, being trapped in a gigantic mall meant there was a plentiful supply of such building materials. But no. Even with double layered walls and triple layered coverings, each member of the impromptu Wattpad meet-up trembled as if the cold was closing in and they were afraid it would sink its icy teeth into their flesh.

"Maybe we should have met at my house, as I suggested," said Tharron. He adjusted his cap again, a nervous gesture which also served to force his hand out from under the covers, the bite of the chill ensuring him he could still feel it.

"You said that," said Talia.

Being the youngest of the group, she was the one they all seemed to want to look after, even Tharron, whose jibes were meant as humour rather than spite. She was also, probably, the most able. A life spent travelling as her family escaped the secret none spoke about even in the seclusion of their own home had hardened her against the world and had dragged her maturity along with it, ensuring a thick skin and an active mind.

Tharron shrugged. His humour was freezing at the same rate as the forgotten glass of water by his side. Greg smiled, trying to keep the mood elevated above the Absolute Zero they were descending to.

"Let's tell some stories," he said. "We're supposed to be writers. Let's do what we do best. It'll pass the time until the storm subsides and we can get out of here."

"Good idea," said Gaby. She handed out the last pieces of the cake she had baked in the electrical appliance store before the sudden lack of heating had forced them to take shelter and quickly zipped back up her sleeping bag. "Who's going first?"

Sal mumbled something, struggling to keep her eyes open. The cold was draining, as if the temperature had taken their energy levels with it when it departed. She was nudged by Rita who shared the double sleeping bag they'd chosen in a futile attempt to combine body heat.

"Wake up, hun," said Rita. "You don't want to go to sleep, yet. We don't want you waking up dead."

"Rita!" exclaimed Gaby, tilting her head towards Talia.

"Sorry," said Rita. "I wasn't thinking. I just don't think any of us should sleep. It's too cold."

"Well, stories should keep us awake, then," said Greg. "Tharron. How about you kick us off? You like to talk"

"Thanks, I think."

Tharron huddled down into his mountain of coverings and thought for a moment. Though the campfire they had built actually consisted of portable heaters on daisy chained extensions, he hoped to bring in some forest camping ambience and help his friends forget their immediate surroundings and plight. He had been one of the organisers, being friendly but insistent in getting the group to come together and booking the room upstairs to meet in. He felt partly responsible.

"Should we wait for Shaun to come back?" asked Karim. He had journeyed the furthest, from Egypt, to be there and it had been an expensive and very last minute decision to attend. He was beginning to wish the last minute had ticked by and he'd have missed his chance.

"Start without him," Greg suggested. "He won't mind. He's only gone to the toilet, so he's not going to be long."

"It'll probably freeze on the way out, anyway," laughed Alex. "He'll have to snap off the stream before he can come back."

Silvana looked at her pointedly, copying Gaby's admonishing nod towards Talia.

"Look, I'm younger than you lot, but I'm not a baby, "Talia protested. "I can talk about death and a peecicle as well as the rest of you."

Jennifer snorted a giggle and quickly grabbed for some tissue for her nose. The cold was affecting her the worst and Rita offered her another blanket.

"I'm fine," whispered Jennifer, her voice hoarse. "It's just a little chilly. No worries."

"OK," said Tharron. "Shaun can pick it up when he gets here."

"I hope," laughed Alex, "he leaves it there!"

Talia sighed, her manner implying she didn't appreciate Alex's sense of humour but the smile on her face showing she actually did.

"I need to go now. I'll get him to hurry up."

"Different door, hun," said Rita, nudging Gaby.

"You know what I mean," laughed Talia, sticking her tongue out. She stood slowly, stretching out her cramped muscles. Her blankets fell away to reveal her slight figure disguised by the layers of clothes she'd borrowed from the large clothing store next to the one they were in.

"You want me to come with you?" asked Greg. He and Shaun seemed to share the surrogate father role, offering a wing each for Talia to tuck herself under.

"Nope," she said confidently. "I'm a teenager. A mall is my second home. If I couldn't find my way to the toilet, my licence to shop would be revoked."

A round of laughter applauded her sense of humour and she grabbed a thick shawl before exiting with a bow. She heard Tharron's voice as she walked away.

"Once upon a time, there was a puppy..."

Puppies. That wouldn't end well.

Destiny, the mall they were in was huge. As the US's second largest, it had everything they could need in the event of a zombie apocalypse. Or a freak winter storm which was triple the intensity of the forecasters' predictions. They had food to last them easily until the day after tomorrow and beyond and clothing to be able to change their underwear countless times before having to think of alternative measures. They also had no heat or way to leave. As vast as the Destiny mall was, its size was also a problem. Huge walkways, high ceilings, long stretches of glass and spacious stores meant heat had nowhere to hide. When boilers died and radiators bemoaned their inability to radiate, the chill moved in, flipping the coin to toss warmth out of the window.

Fate took her sister, Destiney and threw her from the precipice, letting her fall into a bottomless pit of iciness. Her blood spread and seeped into the bones of the Wattpaders like water soaked into a sponge.

Talia had yet to feel the need to relieve herself so hadn't noticed where the toilets were. She knew there'd be a multitude of conveniences conveniently placed for shoppers but had no idea in which direction they laid. She could only wander and hope to see a sign.

She walked towards one of the windows. It was difficult, at first, to know if it was light or dark outside. Relying on her phone if she ever needed to know the time, Talia didn't own a watch. Flat batteries, however, were the enemy of requirement and her phone had died soon after the heating had failed. Talia hoped there was no domino effect working surreptitiously to wear the Wattpaders down to such a point where they were vulnerable enough to become victims to the storm's effects.

She shook her head. She was never normally one to cast a dark shadow over the world. Sunshine seemed to follow her wherever she might go but, this day - or night - even the sun was feeling down.

Outside, floodlights did what they were meant to do and flooded the area with light. The snow had built to the point where you would hope Steve McQueen might chance by on a motorcycle to help you escape and more snow was being thrown about by the unseen hands of the gale force winds. The floodlights still cast their blinding glow, but it was reflected and intensified by the saturated air. As such, day and night had joined forces to create a confused miasma which was being battered by the elements.

She gave up trying to make out any details beyond the glass and turned to try and find signs for what she needed. She hoped she'd bump into Shaun. If he'd done his business, he'd be able to direct her. If he hadn't and was still looking, hopefully they'd find each other and search together. Being shut away in the conference centre with music and laughter filling the room, they had failed to notice the oncoming storm and the closing down of the mall as people made their way home while they still could.

She wished she'd made time for a toilet break earlier, but was enjoying herself too much to notice her bladder protesting its capacity being filled.

Oh well. The shopping mall being empty made her hunt more of an adventure. She wanted to hurry due to the cold but could, at least, enjoy herself on the way. She shouted Shaun's name, listening to the echo as it bounced around the open space. Acoustics were such that, even if there were only a few people shopping, it would sound as if there were more. It gave the impression of the place being busier which, psychologically, made the visitors believe it was more popular. As such, it became more popular. With Talia being the only person walking through its shop lined halls, even her voice revisiting her time after time until the echo faded failed to make her feel anything more than alone.

She smiled. She could be the last person on Earth, a girl abandoned by her fellow man as they escaped the doomed planet for the furthest reaches of the galaxy. Or she could be the sole survivor of a zombie apocalypse, locked inside the only place which could keep her alive, fed and clothed. Her heart twinged for her dog, Ripley. He was at home, probably either asleep or leaving friendly little puddles on the laminate flooring. Even though Talia knew the rest of the world beyond the storm were absolutely fine, she still felt a sting of loss at not having her pet with her.

Her mood had suddenly slipped. The dark cloud which had been looming settled above her and she felt the need to try and outrun it. Close by was an escalator and she took it. She'd always loved riding the moving stairways, walking backwards up them or trying to move down at the same rate they moved up so she could stay in one place. This time, however, it was simply a way to get from this floor to the one below.

She took the steps two at a time and, by the time she'd reached the bottom, she was panting but energised. She called out again, walking quickly to try and dissipate the aura of isolation which was emanating from everywhere. Even the individual items on densely stocked shelves seemed to be sitting there alone, separated from their neighbours by an abyss of silence. Mannequins stared at her as she passed, their blank eyes following. She had to force herself to not keep looking back at them.

They're not looking.

They're not moving.

They're not...

Suddenly, Talia saw the sign she was looking for. The male and female ideograms pointed ahead. Her bladder urged her on and she wasn't about to ignore its squeeze. A wide corridor led to a junction. Left for Ladies, right for Men. Feeling exposed, she took the left turn and ran into a cubicle, locking the door. Moving quietly, she listened for any other sounds of movement. If she heard footsteps, it could well be Shaun but, though they believed the mall to be deserted, she couldn't be sure.

She closed her eyes, holding her breath, listening.

She could feel her pulse in her ears and hear its flow. Her heart beat loudly and she tried to calm her nerves. She knew she had nothing to worry about. Apart from her friends, there was no-one about. The mannequins were simply plastic dummies draped in clothes. Any footsteps she might hear were purely the echoes of her own.

Any need to relieve herself had vanished when she heard the breathing. Any thoughts of breathing again herself disappeared when she heard the footstep. Any idea of being back with her Wattpad friends was extinguished when the lights went out.

"Hello?"

Breathing. Quiet. Slow. A slight rasp giving the smooth exhalations a roughened edge.

"Hello?"

The breathing paused, a breath caught in a fist of anticipation before being released to slide under the cubicle door and cause Talia to tremble.

"Who's, there? Is that you, Shaun?"

Breathing. Measured. Calm.

"I'm coming out. I'm armed, so you'd better watch out!"

The darkness was so absolute, with no exterior windows to allow any light to seep in, Talia felt she could easily have been blinded. Grimacing, she felt around the back of the toilet for the only thing she could use to defend herself. Her father called it a 'bog brush' and she always laughed at the term. It was pathetic as a weapon, but it was all she had. Slowly, she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

She half expected to be jumped, for the person out there to leap on her or to push the door in her face. There was no movement. She stood still, trying to listen - to feel - for any signs of another person with her. There should be a sort of warmth from another body. Not necessarily physical, but she should be able to sense someone. Nothing.

"Hello?"

Silence. The breathing stopped. The breather gone.

Holding the plastic toilet brush out in front of her, she swiped the air, a fencer in an Olympic fight to the death. She spun around, helicoptering. She hit no obstacle, human or not.

There was no-one there. It was her imagination. It had to be.

Silly girl.

She dropped the brush and edged forward, arms outstretched, feeling for the wall. She tried not to make a sound, keeping her mouth tightly closed. If she uttered even the slightest noise, she feared she might crumble.

She hadn't heard it. She hadn't.

The wall was cold, the tiles holding on for a brief second to ensure the tips of her fingers inherited the chill. Her sense of direction in the dark was almost non-existent and she had no idea which way she needed to go. Carefully, she traced her way along the wall until she came to its end. It didn't join another so, remembering what it looked like from when she entered, Talia assumed she'd reached the section of wall which separated the room from the corridor outside. Taking a deep breath, she walked purposefully, though slowly, out.

She kept her hand on the wall. The tiles had given way to only slightly warmer plaster and she stayed close to its surface. Stepping away from the wall was like leaping into the night. For all she knew, the floor had broken away and she could fall forever if she took a single misstep. Every few feet, she stopped, listening. She almost wanted to hear the breathing just to help her feel less lost, even if that meant she could be under threat.

Finally, she made it out to the main concourse. The music which had played so constantly it had dropped from her senses to lie in a heap at the back of her mind was gone. Silence drew a bow across the violin of her nerves and played a keen note which stretched the tension she was feeling.

She blinked, suddenly aware she could see, if only just. Skylights ran across the roof of the building and, though the storm continued its onslaught against the mall, light was managing to dribble in and filter down to the lower levels. Power had failed, clearly. The various revolving carousels in the shops had stopped their rotation. An eerie glow emanated from the now still shelves full of watches across from her. She longed to be able to take one, if only for the feeble light from their luminous hands, but the cabinets were locked.

Looking both ways, as if waiting to cross a road, she started walking. The middle of the walkway looked more inviting than remaining close to walls and store fronts where she could be grabbed at any moment and she moved there quickly.

"Hello?" she called.

Whispers were for those who didn't want to be heard. If she had, indeed, heard someone nearby, she would prefer them to show themselves rather than remain hidden, even if it meant she had to run. There was no answer and she couldn't decide if she was happy or not. How far had she come? How many times had she descended? Had she, in fact, gone up a level or two? She couldn't remember. Her journey from her friends had seemed so short but now it felt as if they were in another city. The darkness and the fright had scrubbed her mind clean of direction and she could only walk on, desperately trying to see something that looked familiar.

But nothing did. Colour had drained from the world. Sound had followed. Even her footsteps sounded muted, as if they daren't be heard in case they attracted the stalker who couldn't possibly be there.

Could he?

No!

It was the darkness. It was making her nervous. Her father, when not joking about toilet brushes, always told her the night was just the light gone to sleep. That was all. Nothing to be afraid of.

"So be still my beating heart," she told herself. Her heart ignored her request and battered the inside of her chest like a wronged prisoner trying to escape.

She walked. An escalator, now turned to stairs by the lack of electricity, led downwards. She could see another ahead, leading up. Which to take? Standing at the top of the closest, she stared down into the dusky depths. From where she was standing, she could partially up the next one. Upstairs appeared similarly uninviting.

"Talia," she told herself, "move it. Get a grip and move it. You're missing out on the stories."

Down it was. She felt like Jennifer Connelly in the film Labyrinth. She chose down! She hoped there was no Oubliette to get trapped in.

There wasn't. The floor below seemed to be a copy of the one she'd just been on. More shops, less light. She stood with her eyes closed for a moment. Not sure if it ever worked, this was her method of adjusting her eyes to the dark. In this instance, it didn't work. Everything still looked as if it was not quite real and was waiting for a switch to be flicked to bring it to this world from the pseudo-reality it existed in. She had to keep moving.

Breathing.

She heard it above the manic thoughts tumbling through her mind like jesters at a king's court. She heard it above the thumping of her heart.

Breathing.

Behind her.

She spun around, fear wrenching a screech from her as if ripping the sound from her throat. The gloom could hide so many things, but nothing was close enough for her to hear its breath. The colonnade was empty. The shops either side of her were open, with racks and shelves giving chance for concealment.

"Who's there? Come out? Please!"

Breathing.

Behind her.

She turned again, stepping backwards. Again, nothing.

"WHO IS THERE?"

Talia shouted this time. Her voice fell flat against the walls of the mall. Her echo was as absent as whoever was stalking her.

Behind her. A step.

A turn.

Nothing.

Again and again, the sound of breathing or footsteps made her turn around. She felt surrounded by a living entity of emptiness which was taunting her. She crumbled to her knees, her head in her hands, her sob leaking onto the floor.

"Who's there?" she whispered.

Hands grabbed her, yanking her to her feet. More hands pulled her hair back, and her eyes snapped open. Talia could feel the grip holding her. She could sense the presence of someone there, but she could see no-one.

"Who are you?" she cried. "Where are you?"

The light was fading further. At first, she thought it was her imagination as she struggled against the invisible hands, her exertions having no effect. There was no loosening of her constraints no matter how she kicked or pulled. The darkness... thickened. It was as if she could feel its touch on her cheek. It was cold, colder than the surrounding air. Did..? Was...?

"LET... ME... GO!"

Talia kicked out, simultaneously lifting her arms sharply. She thrust her head forward and down and felt her hair tear from her scalp. She screamed and the grip on her was suddenly released. She ran. The escalator was before her and she took the steps two at a time, not stopping as she reached the top. Her foot slipped and she stumbled but didn't fall. A hand grabbed her ankle and she looked back, prepared to kick, but there was only the increasing darkness. It looked like a rising tide, flooding the levels below and spilling over onto the one she was now on. She pulled her leg to free it but the something snatched back and she landed hard on her back.

She screamed again, a long, loud howl of terror and kicked as had as she could. The darkness swirled, like a fog disturbed by the swirl of a strong wind. Scrambling back, Talia fought to regain her feet and ran again. She wished she wasn't so bad at directions. She wished she hadn't needed the toilet. She wished her friends would hear her cries and come to look or realise she'd been gone for too long. She wished Shaun would appear and help her.

She wished the darkness would stop pursuing her. There was a defined line between the murk and the thick night which bubbled from below.

It was gaining, the space between it and her rapidly decreasing. She could feel the claustrophobic throb of its approach and...

There!

She recognised something. Didn't she? That shop. That escalator!

She veered towards the metal staircase and started up. She could hear the breathing. She recognised the footsteps not as the individual placement of a foot on the floor, but as the rhythmic beat of a heart which had no real substance. But the breathing, that was something else. That was a whisper of the night. That was the inhalation and exhalation of silence.

She screamed again as she felt the touch of the darkness on her neck. Felt its fingertips brush her hair. Stroke her cheek. Wipe away her tears.

This time nothing grabbed her. It was a soothing rather than threatening gesture. One of appeasement rather than attack. It was worse. It was impossible.

She swiped away the caress and pushed herself harder. Through gritted teeth, she whimpered but used the sound of panic to spur her on. Dread turned to determination. She mounted the top of the escalator and saw the store her group of friends were hidden away in. Their voices carried out into the hallway. The sight of her destination gave her added strength and she called out to them.

"HELP!"

Her friends continued their chat. Shaun was speaking. He'd made it back. He was telling a story. Talia heard her name mentioned.

"I'm here! Help me!"

The tone of Shaun's voice didn't change. His story continued and there were various brief interruptions from the others, but none responded to her shouts.

Closer came the night. Thicker. Smothering. Enveloping. Wrapping around her in a blanket which she felt constricting her body. Her feet dragged and her throat became clogged as the darkness filled her mouth and slipped down into her gut with a burning heat. She felt as if she were choking and she staggered to a halt at the entrance to the store. She could see her friends. She could hear them, though their voices seemed suddenly distant or muted, travelling through thick concrete walls before coming anywhere close to her.

There was a loud click and the lights flared. The music filled the mall. The darkness about her paused before relinquishing its hold and fleeing. Talia fell forward. Greg, Tharron and Rita climbed out from beneath their makeshift fort, followed by the remainder of the group. She ran up to Greg and threw her arms around him.

"Thanks God I found you!"

Greg shrugged off his blanket and let it drop to the floor.

"Looks like the storm is easing up," he said. "We might get out of here soon."

"Greg?" said Talia. "What's wrong?"

"Fingers crossed," said Gaby. She and Alex had linked arms and were smiling.

"Gaby? Listen, you won't believe..."

"At least we don't have to listen to any more stories," laughed Alex. "You guys write better than you speak. There's no delete key!"

"Alex? Rita? Karim?"

Talia waved her hands in front of their faces. She shouted at them. Snapped her fingers.

Cried.

"Guys? Guys!"

"Feels like the heating is back on too," said Jennifer, rubbing her gloved hands together.

"Good. We'll get all toasty just before we have to leave," Sal sighed.

Talia stepped back, her hands dropping to her sides. She shook her head, not knowing what to do or say. They couldn't see her. Why couldn't they see her?

In the corners of the room, the shadows flowed and twisted.

And waited.