The Soul Inside The Mannequin

"Chloe!! Come here‼ There's someone in that room!" Irish exclaimed in panic, shouting to her friend who was in the kitchen. "Chloe! There's a stranger!"

"What's wrong, Irish? Why are you screaming like that?" replied Chloe, who came in carrying two glasses of orange juice.

"There's someone in that room! I saw a pair of eyes," I explained, pointing to the dark room with its open door.

Chloe then entered the room, walking casually and turning on the room's light. "There's no one here, Irish. This is my mom's special mannequin collection room."

"Your mom collects mannequins?" asked Irish as she walked towards Chloe. In the large room, there were numerous mannequins, maybe around 20 dolls.

"My mom is opening a bridal boutique, so she needs a lot of mannequins," explained the beautiful woman. "Let's leave this place; let's go to my room."

Irish's brown eyes clashed with a mannequin standing near the door, and the display doll blinked at her. Immediately, Irish got scared and turned away, but Chloe quickly pushed her out of the room.

"Chloe, one of the mannequins blinked just now," Irish insisted.

"There's no way a mannequin can blink; it's an inanimate object, Irish," Chloe rejected her friend's opinion. "You're just tired. Let's just go to bed," she added, pulling Irish's hand to go up the stairs to the second floor.

Irish was shocked when she saw a mannequin standing near her friend's bed. "Do you also put mannequins in your room?" Irish asked directly.

Chloe shook her head, her facial expression changing. "No, my mom placed them here."

Hearing this, Irish widened her eyes, looking at the mannequin. The longer she stared at the display doll, the more convinced Irish became that something was different about it.

She was sure that the mannequin's eyes moved, and it seemed like it was breathing. Curious, she approached the display doll. "Irish!"

The woman was startled, accidentally bumping into the mannequin, causing it to fall onto her slender body. Irish was shocked; the doll felt surprisingly heavy for a display mannequin.

"Oh my, Irish, are you okay?" Chloe exclaimed as she lifted the mannequin.

"Chloe, this is very strange. The mannequin's body is so heavy," reported Irish, feeling burdened by the mannequin's weight.

"How strange? You're talking nonsense," Chloe quickly countered. "It's better for us to just go to sleep."

Irish didn't want to argue with her friend; the important thing was that she had expressed what she felt. As the woman was about to leave, her eyes met the blinking mannequin again, just like the one downstairs.

"Chloe!! This mannequin blinked," Irish shouted, panicking and afraid.

Once again, Chloe dismissed her friend's words. "What's wrong with you? You've said twice that mannequins blinked. Mannequins are lifeless objects, Irish!"

"For God's sake, I saw it earlier. I'm not hallucinating; I'm still very aware, and what I'm saying is true," Irish said, insisting on the truth.

"Okay, let's assume what you're saying is true. Then what?" Chloe asked critically.

"I don't want to sleep here!" Irish refused adamantly.

Finally, Chloe persuaded her friend to sleep in the guest room on the first floor. They agreed not to talk about the mannequin anymore. The night quickly turned into morning, and Irish panicked when she opened her eyes.

"Chloe!" she shouted when she realized Chloe wasn't beside her.

"What's wrong, Irish? I'm making breakfast," said the curly-haired woman, entering the room with a jar of chocolate spread.

"Why did you wake up early?" she protested.

The girl didn't answer; she left the room and walked to the kitchen, with Irish following behind. They sat in the dining room of Michael Roosevelt's family, and this was not the first time Irish stayed at their house to accompany Chloe when her parents went out of town.

But this time, she found something strange in the place—the mannequins. "Don't daydream, eat your toast!" Chloe said, making Irish jump. After finishing breakfast, they returned to Chloe's room to shower and change clothes. "Who will shower first, you or me?"

"I'll go first, but you have to sit here, don't leave me alone," Irish said, her beautiful face looking serious. Her friend responded by raising both of her thumbs. Irish went into the bathroom, cleaning herself from head to toe. After 15 minutes in the bathroom, she finally came out. "Chloe... Chloe..."

Irish panicked, continuously calling the room owner's name, but Chloe was nowhere to be found. Her panic increased when she realized the mannequin in the room had also disappeared.

"Chloe!" she screamed, running out of the room. Her feet moved quickly down the stairs to the first floor. "Chloe, the mannequin is gone."

"No, it's not-"

"The mannequin can move, the mannequin can walk on its own," Irish blurted out without giving Chloe a chance to explain something.

"Stop!! Listen to me first," Chloe interrupted. "The mannequin didn't disappear or walk on its own; I moved it to another room so that you wouldn't be scared to sleep in my room."

A smile immediately spread across Irish's beautiful face; her fear had not come true. She hugged Chloe as a sign of gratitude. "Thank you, Chloe!"

"You're welcome. Now wait here. I'll take a shower first," Chloe said, telling Irish to sit in the living room. Her friend nodded, now the brown-eyed woman waited while playing with her phone.

Irish had no suspicion that someone was slowly approaching her, step by step, and now the figure stood right beside her chair. As the target did not respond, the figure began to speak.

"Irish..." it said softly.

"Yes," Irish replied quickly, turning to the figure that called her.

The woman jumped from her chair, her eyes widened, and her voice suddenly choked. The mannequin from Chloe's room was now standing in front of her, and they locked eyes.

"Irish, please help me," it whispered.

The named woman could only shake her head as she walked away until she was cornered against the wall. It was well-utilized by the mannequin to press against Irish. It repeatedly pleaded for help.

Irish's body was less than a meter away; there was no choice but to ask the mannequin. "What? Wh-what do you want?"

"Take me away from here," it answered.

Irish shook her head again, flatly refusing the figure's request. "I can't."

"You have to take me away from here, Irish! I beg you," pleaded the figure.

"Why do you have to leave from here?" Irish asked, curious.

"Irish!"