Something That Was Frozen In A Moment Of Panic

[G. S. Carnivals]

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It was a few hours after sunset (EDT) that a couple of derelicts, both of them drunken and deranged, were passing through The Mechanic Street Museum. They had covered this ground before and were not daunted by its peculiar aspects. Quite the opposite, in fact. Pausing in front of a house where a doll's head stared from a high attic window, the derelicts parked themselves on either side of a sofa near the sidewalk. Between them was a fully clothed mannikin sitting up with fair posture, although her head was twisted over the back of the sofa. Out of all the mannikins these derelicts had ever seen loitering in the vicinity, this one came closest to something that could be mistaken for a human being. 'Must be a new one,' said the first derelict. 'Yeah,' said the other. 'But - uuurrp - lookit her face.' As drunken and deranged as the derelicts were, even they could not overlook the flaw in this window dummy. Specifically, its face did not display the requisite expression of bland beatitude but, on the contrary, was severely contorted - the face of something that was frozen in a moment of panic. 'I bet we could get something for these clothes,' said the first derelict, running his dirty hands from top to bottom over the mannikin's body. 'It's got stockings even.' 'Let's take off her clothes,' said the other. As the derelicts proceeded to undress the mannikin, they were further amazed that it was outfitted with underclothing. The first derelict started talking to the dummy, calling her Daisy, and then the other derelict joined in the fantasy. One thing led to another... and by the time Daisy was fully rid of her clothes, the derelicts had laid this fake lady of the evening across the sofa and began taking turns on top of her. That night there was a full moon over Mechanic Street and these derelicts were evidently in the mood for a little messing around, even if their object of desire was merely a mannikin, although one that might be easily mistaken, as she had been for years, for a human being. Then one of the derelicts suddenly jumped off the dummy, stumbling backwards with his pants around his ankles. 'Her eyes,' he said. 'They... they were looking back at me.' The other derelict, zipping himself up, stepped closer to the thing spread out on the cushionless sofa. 'Oh, my god,' he groaned. Then both of the derelicts, having pushed the mannikin onto the sidewalk, began stomping on her face and assaulting her body with a piece of metal pipe that was lying on the ground nearby. What they found inside the mannikin turned out to be even more distressing to them than her contorted face or her eyes that looked back into theirs. For beneath its plaster exterior was an anatomically correct set of bodily organs, even if they too seemed to be made of artificial materials. If the derelicts had had the presence of mind, or any useful minds at all, they might have rationalized this horrific figure as a construct intended for use in the medical school at the university, which was only a few miles away. Instead they kept pummeling away at the unnatural thing, especially its face, until nothing remained but a heap of shattered plaster. They even left its clothes behind as they broke into a breathless, stumbling flight from The Mechanic Street Museum.       Thomas Ligotti - “My Work Is Not Yet Done” Added by: G. S. Carnivals on 08-02-2008 #293

[candy]

This quote is very gruesome. I am sure that many people have had this nightmare. It is amazing the imagery this brought to mind as I read it.