OUR GHOSTS
The building that is now Memory Den has a long history, home to several other establishments before it was a vintage mall. As a result, our warehouse carries a few ghosts. They keep the building cold, watch over employees that are closing or opening, and pace the floors with slow, quiet steps. Any empty space in the mall is deceptive; if you’re ever shopping alone, you would do well to remember that no, you’re not.
Lenny:
Lenny is perhaps our oldest resident. From the late 30s to the mid 70s, the building functioned as a produce facility for storage, packaging, and distribution. During that time, Lenny worked as a loader on the first floor, and supposedly had a rather unfortunate accident with a meat shredder (as he tells it). Lenny is an emotional ghost. It’s unknown whether this has something to do with the way he died, or if that’s how he was in life. He will often make himself known through pranks and mischief, as attention-seeking and endearing as a toddler.
Penny:
Penny moves around mostly upstairs; her presence is felt around every corner in the offices. When the building was an auto supply store in the 80s, she managed sales. The story goes that she was crushed by one of the freight elevators, a tangle of limbs and ripped fabric. Her steps are typically slow but defined, the toe-heel click of professionalism very clear. Penny is more of an observer than Lenny; where he makes himself known, she lingers in the periphery. She is the feeling of eyes on you, shrewd judgment and calculation, the air shifting; she is the reason the offices never feel quite at rest.
Number Three:
This ghost is not confirmed. Sometimes, there is a feeling in the very backrooms of the basement that doesn’t match Lenny or Penny; it is far more unsettling. It doesn’t seem malicious, but it does seem dangerous. Of course, this could be attributed to the general feeling people get from being alone in the dark, but it is different somehow. There is a creeping of sorts, something that feels the way low bass sounds. It doesn’t move, it doesn’t leave, and it doesn’t speak. We think the basement may house something much larger than the building and the businesses it’s cycled through–this thing is older, best left alone and unprovoked.
