ÒThe Presence and the PresentsÓ
by Anthryax & BigBird. Manips by BigBird.
Jacqueline was a bit tipsy as she came home from work. It has been a long day at the local retail giant where she worked, and then she and some friends had gone to happy hour for free food and cheap drinks after that. Tracy, the designated driver, had just dropped her off, and now Jacqueline fumbled for her keys at the door of the house she shared with her roommates Veronica, Cynthia and Misty.
It was oddly quiet, even for 11 at night. Both Misty and Cynthia stayed tended to stay up late and neither had a date as far as she knew; Veronica worked until 10 tonight and should have just gotten home as her car was in the driveway.
She walked into the house and slipped off her high heels at the entryway, and noticed the living room was dark, but the television was on with the DVD screen showing the movie had been stopped. A drink and some chips were on the coffee table, and another drink was on the end table. A book was open on the coffee table as well, and she was a little curious why someone had moved the chair well back against the wall. She turned on a lamp and noticed now there was a sheet on the floor, an old ratty one, and it had a 3-foot diameter hexagonal shape drawn on it in what looked like marker. Cynthia and Veronica must have been doing their witch stuff again, she decided with a bit of disapproval. A DVD case was on the DVD player, and she looked at it. It wasnÕt marked, which was odd, and a mailing envelope addressed to Cynthia with a company name labeled ÒEsoteric Learning CenterÓ. Jacqueline rolled her eyes and smirked. Esoteric, indeed..
She was tired and still a bit unsteady after several margaritas, so she decided she would ask questions tomorrow. Besides, she wasnÕt going to clean up the mess. Jacqueline walked down the hall toward the bedrooms. She noticed CynthiaÕs door was open and a dim light illuminated the room. A candle probably, she thought, and went in to blow it out.
As she walked in Jacqueline noticed something. It was extremely quiet, in fact, there wasnÕt any sound at all, and Cynthia was sitting on a stool, the dim light of the several candles around the room reflecting off her luminous skin. Cynthia was wearing a bathing suit, kind of, and it was pulled down and her breasts were showing and Cynthia was looking up and to her side.
She was staring, not moving, and in spite of the influence of the drinks that still left her a bit befuddled, Jacqueline realized something was wrong.
ÒCynthia?Ó she said. But she didnÕt hear herself speak. It was as if no sound was coming out of her mouth, but Jacqueline didnÕt notice. She was far too shocked as she realized that this couldnÕt be Cynthia.
This was a mannequin.
A really good mannequin though, it looked just like Cynthia, but a mannequin nonetheless. A very realistic, perfect-in-way-too-many-details mannequin that just happened to look exactly like a terrified Cynthia would look if she had been timidly looking up at someone while pleading with them; now Cindy was a mannequin, posed still as stone. . .
Jacqueline suddenly felt icy fear and she screamed and realized that she wasnÕt making any noise. ÊSheÊ ran frantically out of Cindy's room toward her own, where the other phone for the apartment was, completely ignoring the fact that CynthiaÕs cell phone was on the bed in plain view next to most of her discarded clothes.
ÊÊÊJacqueline ran into the hallway bathroom and realized with horror that Veronica was already there, completely naked, crouching like she was trying to hide, the bathroom light glinting off her very reflective skin, her eyes half closed and her head cocked to the side like she was looking at something.
She wasnÕt moving either, and Jacqueline — with a lot of hesitation — touched her face.
ÊIt was cold, rigid, smooth, and it felt just like touching one of the display mannequins she worked with.
ÊÊÊÊÊÊVeronica had been changed, too! She was now a stiff mannequin, just like Cindy.
Another scream, and again it was soundless, and Jacqueline fled the bathroom, running toward the back of the house. She found herself in MistyÕs bedroom, and she turned on the light to look for the phone.
With horror she realized Misty was there was well, kneeling on a couple of dining room chairs, wearing some kind of leather outfit she must have bought at FrederickÕs or someplace like it.
She too was unmoving, still as a statue, the light reflecting of her skin as well.
Misty was posed looking to her side, staring at some unseen person or object when she had frozen there.
But everything about the sight of her was wrong. Misty wasn't one for wearing any sort of risque outfit like that, and she certainly wasn't one to be submissive. But here she was, on her knees, in leather, and almost bending forward.
ÊÊÊIt just wasn't right.
Following Misty's left arm, Jacqueline realized with a sick feeling that her friend's hand was fingering a seam on her smooth, hardened leg. The mannequins in her store had those separation points too and Jacqueline decided that she was crazy now.
Nothing else made sense. People just didn't turn into mannequins for no reason at all. . .
ÊÊÊÊJacqueline suddenly felt a tingling sensation and became calm, completely at ease. In fact, she felt down right relaxed. She felt almost giddy actually, and dreamily she stopped her running and took off her belt and released the clasp and undid the buttons holding her dress together and let it slip off her onto the floor. She slipped off her panties, and let herself be led into the kitchen. She let herself be posed, molded, and smiled as the man caressed her cheek.
ÊShe was kneeling on a chair, just like Misty had been, and she felt so very relaxed and content now.
She couldnÕt move at all, didnÕt really want to move actually.
The manÕs eyes were bright green and deep, and she felt herself falling into them.
Jacqueline didnÕt notice that her skin was becoming clearer, blemishes and birthmarks fading away. Nor did she notice that her skin was beginning to shine, just like the eggshell shine that Cynthia, Misty and Veronica had. The same seam lines appeared on her body, too, though she could not feel them or anything else.
Ê She didnÕt notice, because now the world had shrunk to just those eyes, and she felt herself falling deeper and deeper into them and she couldnÕt move and didnÕt move and then her consciousness slipped away and she knew nothing more.
She had become a mannequin, just like her roommates.
Just like the ones in the store where she had worked.
ÊÊ The man smiled; irony always had appealed to him.
This roommate was just as pretty as the other three had been, especially with a little magic applied in the right places to enhance her beauty a bit. Jacqueline being slightly drunk had made her capture very easy indeed. Satisfied, the demigod walked around the house, enjoying his pretty mannequins and his new harem.
He would awaken them soon, to explain to them their new life. The young witch Cynthia had planned to have some fun this evening by summoning something to play with. She had never realized that the whole thing had been a trap set by one of his servants who wanted to give him some presents in order to win favor. Now Cynthia and Jacqueline and Misty and Veronica were his playthings, and always would be.
Soon they would be his loyal and devoted minions, and when it suited him, as dolls and statues to decorate their surroundings.
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