 If you grew up in Parma in the mid 60s to late 2000s, you likely knew of Parma Town Mall, with its bright blue entrances, old brick facade, and overall creepiness. And of course, you knew of Robert Parma III. You probably saw him around the mall at some point. Don't lie to yourself, you saw him parading around the mall all day with his stupid It's My Town top hat and cane round figure and proud gate. If you couldn't guess, he was the owner of the mall. While the public generally thought of him as a good-natured, outgoing fellow, he had a darker side. A side only I and a few others knew about. A side which the public wasn't supposed to see. I started working at Parma Town in 2005. I was hired at the Santa display as an elf, but was kept after the holiday season ended. I worked in the food court for a while, then finally ended up at Hot Topic. The job was fine, but there was one condition. All employees had to be out by 1130, even if the work wasn't done. I was confused at first, but quickly got used to it. I lived in a small apartment right across the street anyway, so it's not like I had a long commute home. Now, by 2017, Parma Town had become what one could consider a dead mall. We had fewer and fewer stores every month or so, and there was even talk of demolishing the mall. I'd asked my manager, John, what he thought of the plans, and he just glanced at a security camera and shook his head. I got the impression something was up, and on my lunch I couldn't help but notice that Robert was walking around the food court more than usual. Usually he did one lap and left, stupid wand twirling. Today, he walked around three times and then left. The funny thing is, I'm pretty sure he was watching me the whole time. That was odd and all, but I didn't think too much of it and did my work, then went home as usual at 1130. The next morning, as I walked into the mall, I noticed that there was now a store closing banner above the boarder's books. The sign read, final two days. Final two days. Were they moving out that quickly? I walked inside and instantly encountered their manager, Mitch. He was staring at the closing banner with the expression of someone watching a loved one die. No. No. No. Please, no. He muttered. I asked him why they were moving out so quickly, and he just dropped his gaze, muttered, rent, and sprinted to the back. That day, since we didn't have a single customer, which was typical, I just watched the boarder store, wondering why on earth they only had two days to leave. They were one of the only stores that could draw customers. It wasn't hard, considering it was right across the hall from us. Mitch just stood behind the desk, and I could tell he was terrified. He didn't move the entire shift, not even to use the bathroom or during lunch break. Robert was doing his march, but today he wouldn't leave borders. For eight hours, just back and forth, Cain twirling, hat with the button gleaming. I wondered, could Robert be up to something? The idea certainly sounded possible, with the way he'd followed me through the food court yesterday, and the fact that his entire march now focused on one store. Even again, he might be trying to attract people to the store in its final days. That's the problem with working in a dead mall. Every thought has tons of time to manifest, and by the end, it can be hard to figure out what's plausible or not. The next day, it was the exact same thing. Mitch stared out at the front of his store terrified, and Robert marched on. The constant thump, thump, thump of his footsteps look, and an almost sinister tone. That night, I left work as normal at 11.30. When I got to my apartment, I reached for my key. And then I realized I'd left my key chain in the back room of Hot Topic. Idiot. I walked out to the parking lot, and stared at Parma Town, the darkness making it feel creepier than usual. I remember, all employees must be out by 11.30. Robert's voice boomed in my hand. I shook it off, rationalizing that this was a perfectly valid reason to break the rule. After all, I had to get into my apartment, didn't I? I hurried across the street, and walked up to the main entrance. It was locked, no surprise there. Thinking quickly, I hurried around the back of the mall to the rear entrance. This one was also locked. Now slightly worried I wouldn't be able to get in, and thus not be able to get into my apartment, I raced around to the third entrance to the mall. Approaching the glass entry, I thought, if this one's locked, break a window. It's an emergency. Thankfully, I didn't have to break any windows. The door opened with ease. Relief setting in, I made my way to Hot Topic. If you've never been in a dead mall, they're creepy enough on their own. Throw in the fact the building was pitch black, save for the glowing exit signs, and this was by far the creepiest place I'd ever been. I was able to recover my key without issue, and was turning to leave, when I heard a low hum coming from the central court. A moment later, footsteps echoed through the mall. I figured I'd see what was going on, but told myself I'd run if it was a burglar. Slowly, ducking behind fake trees, I made my way over. I could see soft lights coming from the area, which I assumed were the emergency lights. Before I could make it to the court, I stopped dead in my tracks. Standing around the large tile compass on the floor were eight hooded figures, two on each point. The low hum I realized came from them. Candles lined each point, circling around the central point. I had no idea what this was, but I knew I had to avoid being spotted, so I ducked under an open store grate. The humming stopped, and a large hooded figure stepped forth from the shadows. I had a feeling I knew who it was, and it was confirmed when he began to speak. For fifty-two years, it has been our town. For infinity, it will be our town. Tonight, we cleanse our town. Robert said. He, along with all the others in the group, slipped their hoods off. It took everything in me not to gasp. I recognized each of them. Christy, the manager of FYE, Ted, the manager of Bath and Body, one person for each store in the mall, and most importantly, John, my manager. The others began to chant in unison, cleanse our town, cleanse our town. Tonight, one of us failed to do our parts to cleanse our town. The law of Parma states plainly. Robert paused to pull a scroll out from under his robe. For those who fail to do their services to our town, those who drain the life from our town, those who transgress against our town, must be punished with their lives. Let us cut away the dead roots, so the tree of Parma town may flourish. Cut away dead roots, let us flourish. The group chanted, we must not lose sight of our future. This town must thrive. Robert put the scroll away and turned to face the moon glowing through the skylight. Bring him forth, Robert bellowed. Let him face his actions. Cut away dead roots. What the hell was this? Why was nobody doing anything about this? I was about to sneak out from under the grate when two people pushed a third forth. It was Mitch, the boarder's manager. I was scared to even breathe as I watched what happened next. The two figures pushed Mitch onto the ground and kneeled on his arms to keep him down. A third stood on his knees, immobilizing him. Mitch struggled and began to speak when one of the figures placed a rag in his mouth. Robert stepped forth, his my town cane raised over Mitch's chest. Mitchell Chaplin, you have failed in your mission to prove yourself useful to our town. For this, you must allow your life to seep into the walls of Palma town so she may prosper. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was about to happen, but I couldn't look away. Not as the cane came down, as the end impaled itself in Mitch's chest, nor could I look away as several more blows occurred. When Mitch's muffled cries of pain had ended, Robert reached into his robe and pulled out a small jar. He scooped some of Mitch's blood into it and carried it over to the fountain that stood in the center of the court. Oh Palma town, accept this offering so that you may live long. Accept this offering so that you may remain most blessed forever. Hear us, oh Palma, hear us. He poured some of the blood in, and that was when I'd seen enough. Without caring about being seen, I sprinted out of the area. The empty hallways seemed like a labyrinth. Every mannequin seemed like it would start running at me. I don't remember anything after that, save for smashing through the main entrance and slamming my head. All I know is that was years ago. Palma town is long gone, demolished to make way for a hotel. The reason I wrote this down is I think they're back. In this hospital, the Palma town cult. Because at night, I hear a faint voice whispering, it's my heart of town, the one, and only Palma town.