Mall Ninja by Syntrus

album art work by Syrupmasterz
https://twitter.com/Syrupmasterz
https://syrupmasterz.newgrounds.com/


The Legend of the Mall Ninja



The mall ninja takes a breath, his calloused fingers tracing the edge of a blade displayed under the neon sign of his small, flickering knife shop. His store, a lone holdout among big-box chain stores, isn’t much, but it holds secrets—secrets he’s about to share with the reporter. She leans in, her voice recorder whirring, eager to uncover the mall’s mysteries.

“You see,” he starts, his voice low and weary, “this place is more than just a mall. It’s a trap—a soul trap, bound by the Demon Emperor’s pact. During the day, it’s just another 80s mall, frozen in time, but at night? It transforms into a hellscape where two sons fight for their father’s favor, for their share of this empire of souls.”

The Mall’s Duality

As the mall ninja’s words flow, the reporter pictures it. The day’s glitzy, plastic veneer falls away, replaced by feudal battlegrounds. Fluorescent lights dim into the flicker of torchlight, and escalators morph into stone steps flanked by imposing statues. The sons of the Demon Emperor—one draped in red and the other in blue—lead factions of loyal warriors in nightly battles for territory. They fight for a chance to inherit their father’s empire, but they are as trapped as the rest. This “inheritance” is nothing more than a lie meant to keep them bound to the mall, slaves to its dark purpose.

The factions control the box-chain stores, their merchandise indistinguishable, though they market it as “unique.” Meanwhile, smaller stores like the mall ninja’s knife shop or the vacant toy store create an illusion of competition. But only the ninja’s store serves a true purpose: preserving the memory of what the mall truly is. Each blade he sharpens, each whispered story he tells, is a strike against the illusion.

Holy Food Court & The Ronin Janitors

“Now, the food court,” he explains, “is hallowed ground. No blood can be spilled there; it’s a strange thing. Maybe it’s a quirk of the mall’s enchantments, or maybe something holy remains, a reminder of innocence before the demon claimed it. People come there to rest, to eat... but I think it’s a last refuge of reality.”

The mall ninja sighs as he recalls the janitors, failed faction members who didn’t live up to the Emperor’s demands. Cast aside, they roam the mall without purpose, now Ronin—masterless warriors condemned to wander. They mop up blood and magic residue after each nightly battle, but they never join the fight again. These janitors, custodians of lost honor, are a sad reminder of lives surrendered to the mall’s illusion of purpose.

The Reporter’s Curiosity

The reporter shifts, entranced by the tale but troubled. “And you, mall ninja? How did you end up here? You seem… different.”

“I used to fight in the wars,” he replies, his gaze distant, fingers tracing a faint scar on his arm. “But one day, I stopped believing in the cause. I knew the inheritance was a sham, a trick to keep us bound here. I’ve made peace with my place as a shopkeeper—a sort of storyteller. This knife shop is all I have, and maybe it’s all I need. Knives hold truths. In the right hands, they can free or bind.”

The reporter nods, wondering if the knives are his way of resisting or a reminder of his former life. She realizes he’s the closest thing the mall has to a guide—a historian of this dark realm who remembers a time before the mall became a demonic prison.

The Battle and Collapse

Days blend into nights as the mall ninja and the reporter grow closer, and through their conversations, she learns the mall’s final secret. Each soul trapped here feeds the mall’s dark magic, and it’s the hobo warriors—the failed faction members, the shoppers who lost their way, the storekeepers clinging to dwindling hope—who sustain it. The Demon Emperor thrives on their struggles, each defeat nourishing his own twisted power.

But the mall ninja has a plan. With the last hobo exiting the mall, the mall’s contract will finally break. As the battles grow fiercer, he whispers to the remaining stragglers, urging them to abandon their futile allegiances and leave.

One evening, as the two sons clash in the atrium, surrounded by warriors drenched in red and blue, the mall ninja takes his leave. In the final, climactic moment, he and the reporter step out into the real world, the last of the mall’s denizens trailing behind them. The neon lights flicker, the escalators screech to a halt, and the faint screams of the Demon Emperor echo within the crumbling walls.

The mall collapses, its foundation giving way as the dark magic unravels. The last hobo, weary and bewildered, looks up to see the night sky for the first time in what feels like eternity.

Epilogue

The reporter looks back at the rubble, the glow of her cigarette illuminating her face. “So… what happens now?”

The mall ninja stares into the distance, his role fulfilled. “Now, we live.”

As he walks away, she watches him, wondering if he’ll ever shake off the role of warrior and remember what life beyond the mall means. She glances down at the small dagger he left in her hands—a final gift, a reminder of the soul trap she escaped. The mall may be gone, but its shadow remains—a warning of how the illusion of choice and consumption can consume even the most steadfast of souls.

https://twitter.com/syntrus Rev. Drew Adams is a Downtempo Electronica Producer hailed by his audience as "a creative robotman" and "a master of post modern house". When Drew is not being a very busy and sought after broadcast technician Drew, can be found hiking in the badlands around Drumheller or working on something creative on his laptop at some hip Calgary café.