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While on an archaeological hunt in an old establishment in Florence, Italy, two archaeologists found an old diary buried under rubble. Also found in the pile were some wooden stands with rods attached to their centers, these are suspected to be stands for wooden Mannequins. The following is what was written inside the journal. (Please note that this diary was translated from Italian to English by expert linguists)
Entry #1 June 11th, 1499
I haven't been able to sleep very well these past few days. It's because I've been having this strange dream. I would be sitting at the desk where I do my painting, and I would be watching the mannequins dance. They would dance to the tinkle of the music box that I would spin. It was a beautiful dance.
Their movements would be so graceful and fluent. Yet when the music box closed and the song ended, so would my dream. I would always throw myself off my pillow, screaming in horror. The unusual thing is, I would have no idea why I woke up in such manner. All I can remember afterwards is the song ending, and this feeling of terror spreading across my body.
This dream has haunted me many times recently, and I fear that this is a subconscious message, an instruction.
I fear that I must make the mannequins dance...
Entry #2 June 13th, 1499
Yesterday, I caught a fever, and I was unable to leave my bed. After my butler cooked me my meal, he left. It was at that point I fell into a deep sleep.
This dream wasn't the same. The mannequins didn't dance, instead of being led by the music, they wept. Their tears were a deep red, as if blood trickled from their eyes. I couldn't see their eyes, but I knew that they were there. The sound of their sobbing was filled with anger, in fact I could hear one or two of them screaming.
Suddenly, the music stopped.
I woke up, screaming, but instead of laying in my bed, I was at my desk. In front of me, was a mannequin. It was laying on the table, its arm was missing. There was a pool of what looked like blood where its arm should've been. It laid there in an awkward position. Much like someone in intense pain.
I fear that my dreams are getting worse...
Entry #3 June 14th 1499
I must write quickly, I cannot believe what is happening in front of me.
I had a dream where I was sitting at my desk, a music box in my hand. In front of me was a couple of mannequins. I then proceeded to spin the music box. That's when my dream ended.
I woke up in terror. I could hear the tinkle of a music box. I slowly turned to my desk, and there, the mannequins were...
I am writing this while I watch the mannequins dance. Their dance is so graceful, so fluent, so beautiful.
...wait, the music, it has stopped...
The journal ends here.
Several people who have read this journal have acquired minor cases of posttraumatic stress disorder. Two of which have been diagnosed with pediophobia.
Researchers are still looking into this case. But as of March 23rd, 2012, no new information has been found...