The walls at the far ends of the store rippled like oceans of blood. Small, fuzzy shadows scurried over the floor. Every screen in the store—the TVs, computer monitors, phones, and even the screens of the self-checkout kiosks and checkout keypads—had devolved into a mess of static. The typical person would likely collapse in terror of such a place—perhaps even go insane—but for twenty-three-year-old Cedrick Martins, it was just another night shift at 4:18 a.m. on a Friday. He worked at this godforsaken DartMart, a lesser-known general retail store that specialized in tabletop games. He took up the position of security guard for the store around six months ago and watched over it during the night ever since. 

Cedrick, clad in his bright orange employee shirt and visor, rode his skateboard down the aisles towards the book section, pushing off the ground whenever he lost speed. He hopped off before making a quick scan for anything that looked out of place and, sure enough, there was a book on the floor that he had spotted earlier in the security feed. 

“Just thrown on the floor this time?” he mumbled. He flipped the book over in his hand, revealing a faint oil-in-water sheen covering it—a clear sign of an in-progress curse. He used the back of his pen to trace a pattern on the book—a circle with notches at the west and southwest points with a triangle connecting the north, east, and south points—and the sheen covering it dissipated. 

Anomalies like that were partially why Cedrick had been drawn to this job: starting around a year ago, there had been a concerning number of reports of strange activity within various stores across the state of New Jersey, including this very DartMart. Customers lapsing into comas or having seizures after touching certain products; night guards claiming to witness strange visual anomalies throughout stores during their shifts—all a clear indicator that a wave of poltergeists had moved into the state. 

The poltergeist invasions were a new phenomenon in New Jersey, but they had become rather commonplace in human society. They began cropping up much more frequently than they used to, averaging about one invasion per continent per year in the ’90s compared to the five invasions in the U.S. alone in 2023. 

“You’ve been really sloppy tonight.” Cedrick put the book back on the shelf. Almost immediately, the light from the staticky TVs weakened—one of the screens must have changed. He walked around the bookshelves to the TVs and, indeed, one of them had gone black. Then words appeared. 

“WHO ARE YOU TO BE THE JUDGE OF THAT?” read the message. The letters looked like molten lacerations on the screen. 

“You’ve been making the things you’re cursing really obvious,” Cedrick responded. “The book just now, then the LEGO displays moving on their own before that. You’re typically a lot more subtle.” 

After a few seconds, the TV to the right changed to display its own message. “JUST TO KEEP THINGS INTERESTING.” 

“Whatever,” Cedrick sighed before getting back on his skateboard and returning to the security office. 

In college, Cedrick had been the president of the Paranormal Club and graduated with a degree in paranormal studies in hopes of becoming a paranormal investigator. While Cedrick’s job of handling the poltergeist during the night shift would make for some good experience, it was justice that actually drove him to take the position. A month before he had become the guard, Cedrick had brought his younger brother, Andre, to DartMart to get new supplies and games for his second year of college. It hadn’t been his usual retail store, but Andre insisted they go there. 

They were looking in the bedding aisle when Andre reached out for a dark red bedsheet set, only for his whole body to tense up less than a second after touching it. Cedrick just barely caught Andre before he fell backwards onto the floor, his eyes glazed over and body spasming. He carried his brother out of the aisle and cried out for help, attracting the attention of two nearby employees that were supervising a tournament of some card game in the back of the store. The ambulance arrived not long after the employees called 911, but by the time both brothers arrived at the hospital, Andre was unresponsive. He lapsed into a coma hours later—a coma that has now gone on for almost seven months. Andre was among the first victims of the poltergeists’ invasion of this DartMart. 

Cedrick sat in his roller chair, his head resting on his crossed arms as he flipped through the different camera feeds on the monitors. He saw at least three objects in the cameras that were in progress of being cursed—an unplugged electric fan spinning; a coffee cup spilling thick black liquid into the aisle; a bag full of die rolling by themselves—all of them sticking out as much as the book earlier. It’d be easy for Cedrick to dispel them all, but he turned towards the clock above the security office door instead. It read 4:55 a.m. Still an hour left of his shift. 

Cedrick let out a long sigh. The curses took a few minutes to complete anyway, and even if they were completed, he could report them to his manager to have them labeled with warning signs before the store opened. Cedrick pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and, after a moment of deliberation, opened his emails. His inbox consisted mostly of ads for grad schools and for Spotify, as well as a few exchanges he had with the curse victims’ families. He thought he should probably check in with some of them soon—it’d been a while since he’d talked to the Thompsons and the Leigers. Turning back towards the monitors, Cedrick saw a message like the ones from the electronics section. 

“YOU ALLOW THE CURSES TO FESTER. DO YOU CONCEDE AT LAST?” 

Cedrick scoffed, putting his phone back in his pocket. “Can we not do this tonight?” he asked. “I’m really not feeling up to this right now.” 

“AN AMATEUR’S DECEPTION. I WILL NOT RELENT SO EASILY.” 

“Wha—No, this isn’t a trick.” Cedrick gestured towards the monitors. “My computer crashed yesterday morning and I lost my huge paranormal notes document that I’ve worked on for years. I’m sure that comes as good news for you, though.” 

It took longer than usual for the screen to respond. “IS THAT WHY YOU HAVE FORGONE YOUR STUNTS TONIGHT?” 

It was right. Cedrick hadn’t been doing any of his usual skateboard tricks while getting around the store. “I guess, yeah.” 

“SOME WILL YOU HAVE.” 

“Yeah, well”—Cedrick pointed at the monitor—“you don’t normally have all the illusions going off at once. You don’t seem to be putting in much effort tonight either.” 

The monitor changed again to be completely blank and then reverted to the security feed. In all his time as the DartMart night guard, Cedrick had never seen the poltergeist leave any of its messages completely blank for so long. Did it, perhaps, not know how to respond to what he said? Does that even happen to poltergeists? Cedrick waited for another message to appear, but no response came. He sighed, finally forcing himself to get up from his seat to take care of those curses. 

A few minutes later, Cedrick was back at the security desk, face down on his arms. There hadn’t been any signs of new curses in progress for the past ten minutes—a potential false sense of security on the poltergeist’s part—but Cedrick didn’t have the energy to care. 

From the edges of his vision, the light from one of the camera monitors changed to an orange glow. Lifting his head off of his arms, Cedrick saw that the monitor to his right now displayed what could only be described as grainy, orange-tinted footage of the ocean floor. 

That was new. 

From the darkness emerged a humanoid figure wearing a long, ruffled dress. A bird-like head sat upon its shoulders, its face covered in a feather-like coat that was constantly shifting around. Its beak shone with a metallic luster. Were it not for the multitude of tendrils extending from its back into the dark expanse, the poltergeist almost looked like a twisted version of the store mascot, Winmau. The poltergeist knelt and lay on its stomach a few feet in front of the camera feed. 

“Is that what you actually look like?” Cedrick asked. 

The monitor to the right changed to another message. “THE FORM YOU SEE IS THE PRODUCT OF BEING TETHERED TO THIS ESTABLISHMENT.” 

Cedrick hummed in acknowledgement as he sat up in his seat. “What are you actually trying to do?” 

Another message appeared. “YOUR OBSERVATIONS OF MY HANDIWORK WERE NOT INCORRECT. I SUPPOSE I, TOO, HAVE HAD AN ‘OFF’ DAY, AS YOU MORTALS WOULD SAY.” 

“Really? You guys can have bad days?” Cedrick squinted in equal parts intrigue and skepticism. 

“OUR NUMBERS HAVE BEEN DWINDLING IN RECENT TIMES. THE PANDEMIC YOU MORTALS FACED THREE YEARS AGO REDUCED OUR ACCESS TO YOU IN PUBLIC ESTABLISHMENTS. MANY OF US WERE UNABLE TO SUSTAIN OURSELVES AND CEASED TO BE.” 

“And by ‘sustain yourselves’ you mean spontaneously induce seizures in people or make people miss whole months of their own lives?” Cedrick furrowed his brow and scoffed. “You’re one to talk. My brother wouldn’t be on life support in the ICU if it weren’t for you. Not to mention all the other people you’ve hurt by haunting this place.” 

Ivan Richards, Apollo Wakefield, Ruby Masterson, Porter Garcia, Glenda Thompson, Fern Michaels, Elliot Leiger, Quinton Summers, Ursula King, and Tiffany Stark—those were the victims of the DartMart hauntings within the past seven months. Andre had fallen victim to it between Ivan and Apollo, and the latter five became victims during Cedrick’s time as security guard. 

The next message took a moment to appear. “I DO NOT BLAME YOU FOR FEELING THAT WAY. HOWEVER, WHEN WAS IT THAT YOUR BROTHER FELL ILL?” 

“July eighteenth of last year. What, were none of your victims worth remembering?” 

“I FAIL TO REMEMBER HIM BECAUSE IT WAS NOT I WHO INHABITED THIS ESTABLISHMENT AT THAT TIME. THAT WAS A DIFFERENT ONE OF US.” 

Cedrick glared at the poltergeist with full skepticism. “Really?” 

“INDEED. TO INHABIT A LOCATION, ONE OF US PREPARES IT FOR ANOTHER. IT IS VERY UNNECESSARY. THE ONES THAT CAN PREPARE A LOCATION COULD INFORM OTHERS HOW THE PROCESS WORKS, YET THEY REFUSE TO SHARE THEIR KNOWLEDGE.” 

“You’re seriously telling me that you couldn’t possess this place on your own?” 

“CORRECT. FOR AS FAR REMOVED FROM YOUR MORTAL UNDERSTANDING AS WE ARE, WE ARE NOT OMNISCIENT NOR OMNIPOTENT. THOUGH I AM ABLE TO COMMIT EVERY HUMAN I HAVE HARMED TO MEMORY, I AM UNAWARE OF WHERE THE ONE WHO HARMED YOUR BROTHER HAS GONE.” 

Cedrick was silent for a moment. “What names do you remember, then? Which people have you sent to the hospital?” 

“LEIGER. KING. SUMMERS. MICHAELS. STARK. THEY WERE THE FIVE.” 

“Do the names Garcia or Thompson ring any bells? Masterson, maybe?” 

“THEY DO NOT.” 

Cedrick hummed. “What you said about how places are prepared for you—that does sound oddly specific. Why had I not heard about that in my studies?” 

“PERHAPS IT IS DUE TO THE PREPARERS HAVING CONTROL OVER OUR ABILITY TO COMMUNICATE IN A LOCATION. I WAS LUCKY TO BE ALLOWED SUCH A CAPABILITY. AND YET, I WAS STILL UNSPARED FROM THE MOST INFURIATING PART OF THE PROCESS: BY THE TIME WE ARE ALLOWED TO INHABIT A LOCATION, THE HUMANS ARE PREPARED TO COMBAT US, RESULTING IN LESS POTENTIAL SUSTENANCE. DESPITE THAT, WE DO NOT HAVE MANY OTHER SOURCES OF SUSTENANCE. THE HUMAN MIND’S CAPACITY FOR THOUGHT IS UNPARALLELED. I CAN ASSURE YOU IT IS NOTHING PERSONAL. I DO ATTEMPT TO MAKE THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY THOUGHT SIPHONING MINIMAL.” 

“That,” Cedrick said, “doesn’t make it a whole lot better.” The explanation did hold water. Based on Cedrick’s interactions with the victims’ families, the five that were hospitalized after he became a security guard were showing more signs of recovery than the other six. 

The poltergeist looked to the side as their next message appeared. “IN THE CENTURIES OF MY EXISTENCE, I SIMPLY HAVE NEVER HAD TO CONSIDER MY OWN IMPERMANENCE. IS THIS HOW IT FEELS TO BE MORTAL?”

Cedrick’s frown flattened into a line. He rested his cheek on his fist and spun in his chair a few times. “Look, if you really do feel that way, I guess we can just call it a night and feel miserable together?” 

The poltergeist nodded. “I WOULD LIKE THAT PLAN.”

And so, as Cedrick once again rested his head on his arms, the two of them sat there, basking in a strange, mutual comfort. 

“Don’t go thinking that we’re all chummy after this, by the way,” Cedrick added. “I’m still gonna make sure that you get kicked out of here eventually.” 

From the corner of his eye, Cedrick saw that the poltergeist provided one last message. “I AM SURE YOU WILL."