AOTP Campfire Tales Ep.11

Accounts of the Paranormal's Campfire Tales 

The Figures on Camera 12

A lone security guard's terrifying night shift at a deserted mall turns into a fight for survival against unseen forces.

Paranormal and mystery short stories told around the campfire, straight from our Accounts of the Paranormal YouTube channel! https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC9zKn4LcW3VJROe1-l9EAcQ

If you have an account to share and would like to be a guest on the show, email me at show@accountsoftheparanormal.com and tell me what you saw!

Accounts of the Paranormal -

Creator/Producer/Host: Gino Barreto

WEBSITE: https://accountsoftheparanormal.com/ 

YOUTUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC9zKn4LcW3VJROe1-l9EAcQ 

INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/accountsoftheparanormal/ 

FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61578228277599 

TIKTOK: https://www.tiktok.com/@accountsoftheparanormal

X: https://www.x.com/aotparapodcast

Accounts of the Paranormal (theme song) 

Written by: Gino Barreto / Produced by: Kobe Ofei

All music produced by: 

Kobe Ofei https://www.fiverr.com/kobeofei 

Transcript

0:01

Welcome to Accounts of the Paranormal's Campfire Tales. I'm Julia, your host and guide into strange, unexplained history and chilling tales of the paranormal. Join us around the campfire for tonight's story. At fifty-two years old, Marcus had spent most of his life working security. He'd worked warehouses, office buildings, and apartment complexes. He wasn't the type to scare easily, which was exactly why the mall manager trusted him with the overnight shift. The massive shopping center sat silent after midnight. Storefront gates were locked. Food court chairs rested upside down on tables. The polished tile floors reflected the dim emergency lights that glowed throughout the corridors. Marcus settled into the security office and watched the wall of CCTV monitors, and for the first few hours everything was normal. Then, at one hundred seventeen AM, he noticed movement. A woman in a pale dress walked slowly past a jewelry store on camera twelve. Marcus frowned. The mall was supposed to be empty. He zoomed in, but the figure disappeared around a corner. Grabbing his flashlight, he headed out. The corridor was deserted, no woman, no open doors, no sign anyone had ever been there. He searched the entire wing before returning to the office. Probably a camera glitch, he muttered. But twenty minutes later another figure appeared. This time it was a man. The stranger stood motionless outside a sporting goods store, staring directly into the camera. Marcus immediately left the office, but again he found nothing. The hallway was empty, and when he returned, the figure was gone. A chill settled into his stomach. Around two AM, strange sounds began echoing through the mall. At first it was faint laughter, children laughing. The sound drifted through the empty corridors and vanished before he could pinpoint its source. Then he heard footsteps overhead, then whispers. Then, while checking a dark wing near the food court, he heard something that made him stop cold. Marcus. His name, soft, clear, right behind him. He spun around. Nobody was there. The corridor stretched empty in both directions. His flashlight trembled slightly in his hand. Not funny, he called. Only silence answered. He hurried back toward the security office. The moment he opened the door, his blood ran cold. Every paper on his desk was scattered across the floor. Incident reports, schedules, maps, all of them tossed everywhere as if a storm had blown through. Yet the office door had been locked. Marcus gathered the papers with shaking hands and tried convincing himself there had to be a logical explanation, but deep down he knew there wasn't. By 3 AM, he was sitting nervously before the monitors. Then every screen flickered. When the image stabilized, figures filled nearly every camera, men, women, children, dozens of them, standing silently throughout the mall, some faced the cameras, others stood inside closed doors. A few appeared partially transparent. Marcus froze. The figures slowly turned their heads toward the cameras at exactly the same moment. Toward him. Then every monitor went black. The security office lights died. Darkness swallowed the room. Marcus heard footsteps outside, hundreds of footsteps approaching from every corridor. He grabbed his flashlight, but it refused to turn on. The footsteps stopped directly outside the office door. Then came the laughter, not children's laughter anymore, something older, something cruel. The locked doorknob slowly began to turn. Marcus backed into the corner. The door creaked open. Shapes stood beyond it, pale and motionless. Among them were the same faces he'd seen on the monitors, all staring, all smiling. And from somewhere in the crowd came a whisper Come walk with us, Marcus. The security cameras came back online at four hundred twelve AM. Mall management found the office empty when employees arrived the next morning. Marcus Hale was never seen again. Police searched the entire building. They found no sign of a struggle, no evidence he had left. Only one strange detail remained. For years afterward, night security guards reported seeing a man in a security uniform walking the halls after midnight. But whenever they went to investigate, the corridors were empty. But on the CCTV recordings, the figure was always there, walking slowly through the darkened mall, watching, waiting, for the next person working the night shift. Or just about anywhere you get podcasts, or accounts of the paranormal.com, where you can access full episodes and links to all our socials. And while you're there, be sure to sign up for our blog so you never miss show info or other announcements. I'll see you next time.