Research

Chapter Four

"Why are you filming in a restaurant?" The man asked. He wore a black turtleneck sweater and aviator sunglasses. The lights over his head reflected off the sunglasses, almost blocking their reflection of the man filming him.

"Why not?" The man behind the camera asked. He chuckled a little when the one with the sunglasses set down his drink.

"It's weird. People will think we're dating."

"We're not?"

The other one didn't say anything, just sat there and stared at the man behind the camera.

"Fuck you, Henry," he frowned. His lips and furrowed eyebrows being the only expression visible on his face.

"I know you would."

The video was cut off before the other man had a chance to respond.

"Dad, please," a boy said. His hair was cut short and he wore a simple black t-shirt and gray joggers. His eyes were being covered by his father's hands as he was being led to a door off the kitchen. He attempted a few times to remove his father's hands, but they were only (gently) swatted away by the man at the camera.

By now it's obvious the cameraman was named Henry Emily. He seemed very enthusiastic for being the man he is now.

"Henry, open the door," the father said, stepping aside to let Henry by. He pulled his son with him, his hands still covering his eyes. The boy didn't argue anymore as he just crossed his arms and let his dad lead him through the door to the garage.

In the garage was a generic workshop. Desks and even a set of lockers were lined on the wall. Shelves of gadgets and tools hung on the walls as well by screws that were drilled in. In the middle of a room was a large white mannequin. It was very clean and shiny, the little light in the garage reflecting off of every surface of the plastic figure. The joints were an unknown pitch black material. The white parts of the body just seemed to be an outer segmented shell.

"You ready?" The father asked, looking over his shoulder with a mischievous glitter in his silver eyes. The camera shook slightly as Henry chuckled.

"I feel so bad," Henry mumbled, earning a quick, playful, glare from the other man.

"I heard that. And now I'm concerned," the son said and grabbed his father's hands and removed them from his face. Not long after his eyes were uncovered and he saw the mannequin. He then took his father's hands and placed them back over his eyes. "I hate you so much."

His father laughed lightly. "Aw, c'mon, Mikey!" He smiled, "it's not that bad!"

"You know I hate mannequins!" The son shouted.

"He's not a mannequin!" The father laughed back, trying to take his hands back. He wasn't trying very hard, especially since he seemed to be getting a kick out of this.

"Look at it, Dad! Of course it's a mannequin!"

"No no! You don't get it. He wasn't built to be a mannequin!" He laughed.

"Then what is he?"

"He's a husk," The father said, finally being able to take his hands away. He placed them on his son's shoulders to keep in him place.

The son sighed. "So?" It took him everything to even glance at the mannequin. He kept his eyes off of it as much as he could, occasionally throwing an annoyed glance at his dad or Henry with his metallic eyes.