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The Mannequin Shop

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I was just strolling about town, minding my own business when I heard about the Mannequin Shop. Apparently it was an abandoned building with Mannequins littered about everywhere. It was an old shop, what apparently was shut down for unexposed reasons.

It was in Ireland in Louth, Ardee and had scratched out windows and a stench of rotten flesh emanating from it. It always looked shady, but I always got a morbid curiosity to go in, even just for a second, to see why it was so suspicious, but it was all closed off. Fences, barbed wire coiled around everywhere. It was a dilemma.

One day, me (Samuel Whitaker) and Marcella Jackson Decided to just see what was up with it. We had studied it for months through the shop's door. It had a little window with the metal supports on it, sometimes we saw a shadow dart across, only for a split second, and sometimes a light, very dim, but clear in the darkness, flash, for a few seconds or 2, and fade out. We figured the shadows were just rats, and the flash was a security light, or something. Our neighbor, whom we didn't know the name of, had just told us to never go there, it was very dangerous and no one knew what it was or when it was built.

As we approached the shop for what would be our last visit, we climbed the fence and took out our pliers, we made a small incision through the Wire and jump down, we ambled through the planks of wood and debris and made our way to the entrance.

We open the wooden door as the entrance bell rung and we were met with total darkness. Marcella turned on the flashlight as a I rummaged around for anything of interest, but nothing was to be found. We decided to venture further into the black. The waxy feel of the Mannequins felt rough and course.

I suddenly felt a liquid feel on the palm of my hand, Marcella shines her flashlight, and it turned out I was touching a Mannequin's arm... With blood pouring through the crack of the arm... It was crumbling, the Mannequin was just flaking away as the blood poured, and poured... It made a messy red puddle on the floor, as more arms came off, revealing more and more of the insides of the mannequin, what appeared to be, human flesh, scarred and tore. It didn't seem like human arm pieces though... It was other body parts, foot, eyeballs, and flesh, loads and loads of flesh...

Marcella dropped her flashlight and Ran, screaming she ambled and tried the door, but it was lodged shut. She hammered the door screaming "Help! HELP!" But no reply. I assured her that everything would be ok, but she wouldn't listen, she ran into the darkness, nowhere to be seen. I grabbed her flashlight and called out, but no reply, again, I was alone.

My heartbeat rose and I panicked, I ran forward over and over, into seemingly endless darkness, trying to find and exit. Tumbling and falling, I fell forward and scrambled onto the floor trying to find my flashlight, it had gone out, the batteries had died. I sat there, alone. My willpower drained as I walked into nothingness. I sat on the spot. I had no hope, and I was crying by now, in pure fear, death would be more enjoyable than this torture. He was sealed, tombed in. I sobbed into my hands realizing my fate was certain. There was no escape.

"I am your salvation." I looked up. A tall, bleak figure with a white aura spoke.

"W...Wha?" I replied, "I am your salvation."

Then figure started to float away, I got to my feet and followed. Through the mannequins we weaved and I was lead to a tall wooden oak door. The figure opened it. What I saw inside terrified me.

A room, with cases, molds with dripping. Hot wax. A giant grinder, and flayed human flesh up on the walls. Some body parts were scattered about, some people, decayed and abandoned, stuck in hot wax, only party covered, or completely covered.

The light was dim and flickered partly and sparked occasionally. It was horrifying. But what frightened me the most. Was a mold. It was covered whole, but something was distinctive. I approached and started tearing away the wax with trembling fingers.

It was Marcella.

Somehow she had been taken, killed, ground up, her head only intact. Something was here. Something evil. I turned around to see the figure had gone. I thought to myself "What evil could have done this"

"Marcella Jackson and Samuel Whitaker have disappeared from their local home, and have believed to be another victim of the "Mannequin shop" Incident. The "Mannequin shop" was locked down because in 1874, a man name Jerry Oak was found guilty of kidnapping men and women, grinding them in industrial grinders, sealing them in wax, and selling them as Mannequins. Many people brought them, designed fashion stores, thinking they were harmless mannequins. They were wrong, Jerry was found guilty of murder and executed. Anyone who enters his shop is said to never come out. We can only hope that Marcella and Samuel are alive and well."

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