Short Horror Stories

Plastic mannequin city

As artificial light enters the shop, I start to get ready for the people who will be visiting soon.

I hang the new clothes on the plastic hangers on which they're supposed to be and clean in and around the store. Most of the clothes here are made of polyester, nylon or acrylic.

"We will open soon." I hear my colleague whisper in my ear.

I nod in response and help out with putting out the plastic signs.

As the store slowly starts to get flooded with customers I take my place behind the counter and finish some more chores before someone comes to me to buy something.

After a good few minutes some come to pay for the clothes they deem fit to their bodies.

"Do you want to pay with card?" I ask.

"Do you need a bag with it?" I ask after.

"Do you want the receipt?"

Some of them don't like the questions and get annoyed, asking me not to ask them. Unfortunately my memory isn't good enough to remember who asked who. After a long time, their grey faces have become nothing but a blur in my dreams.

They all look the same after all.

The faces of mannequins are difficult to remember after all...

Every time I scan something the cash register makes an annoying bleep, one that keeps getting more and more annoyed the longer the day continues on, making me thankful for the mask I wear.

A client thinks I'm doing my job wrong and swears at me. I've been working here for a while now, so compliments are hard to come by.

I have a few colleagues who do get many, they look a lot like the customers, other colleagues usually leave soon after starting.

I wonder how long I can hold out...

After a couple of hours I swap places and start working more throughout the store, it's a big one, but I will manage.

I have to...

Customers with their plastic grey faces come to me for questions now.

With their long thin bodies they ask me how much something is, if we have something in another size or even if something makes them look fat.

That last one always surprises me, their plastic bodies all look the same.

They're taller than me.

They're tinner than me.

They're much more beautiful than me.

Is this their way of calling me out?

Do they like asking me these questions in order to mess with me?

I've had enough of that by my colleagues already.

I get sent to the storage room.

Did I do something wrong?