I thought the mannequins in the skip round the back of the art department were just covered in paint or something - art students are strange and we've all learnt not to question them. I thought they were being moved about in there by people chucking more rubbish in or some art student had turned it into a project.
I thought this until one of the mannequins spoke.
"Please," it said through unmoving plastic lips, "Please don't leave us here. We'll die."
If I was smarter than I was kind, I would have left them to die and not lost a wink of sleep. Instead I found myself grabbing their trembling limbs and piling them into the back of my truck after everyone else had left. By the end of it we were all covered in blood and too exhausted to speak.
I took them to the old storage room I kept my late mother's old furniture in and, with much muffled swearing and far more blood than I thought any living thing could hold, I assembled them all and bandaged them with torn-up cushions and decorative blankets.
They were gone by morning, leaving little more than bloodied footprints and the desiccated corpses of staff who were unlucky enough to have gotten in their way. I called the police and never said a word about the mannequins - they wouldn't have believed me at that point.
They had to see it for themselves and they did... when those monsters went back to the art department.
I thought this until one of the mannequins spoke.
"Please," it said through unmoving plastic lips, "Please don't leave us here. We'll die."
If I was smarter than I was kind, I would have left them to die and not lost a wink of sleep. Instead I found myself grabbing their trembling limbs and piling them into the back of my truck after everyone else had left. By the end of it we were all covered in blood and too exhausted to speak.
I took them to the old storage room I kept my late mother's old furniture in and, with much muffled swearing and far more blood than I thought any living thing could hold, I assembled them all and bandaged them with torn-up cushions and decorative blankets.
They were gone by morning, leaving little more than bloodied footprints and the desiccated corpses of staff who were unlucky enough to have gotten in their way. I called the police and never said a word about the mannequins - they wouldn't have believed me at that point.
They had to see it for themselves and they did... when those monsters went back to the art department.
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