Laughter is supposed to be comforting.
A universal sound of joy, a reminder of warmth and happiness. A giggle from a child, a chuckle between friends, the deep belly laugh of someone truly lost in the moment.
But sometimes, laughter is wrong.
Sometimes it lingers too long in empty hallways. Sometimes it drips from unseen lips, curling through the darkness like a whisper meant only for you. Sometimes, you hear it when you're alone-when you should be alone.
And sometimes, it doesn't belong to anyone at all.
For years, people whispered about Chuckles the Chipmunk.
At first, he was nothing more than a mascot-a bright-eyed, oversized character meant to bring joy to families visiting Maplewood Mall. His stitched-on grin and cartoonish eyes were designed to be inviting, comforting.