//I wanna show off some of my actual story writing skills, so here’s a short story idea I thought of for a kind of predator I like—faceless guys
“God, I hate coming back here...” Mark grumbles softly. He was one of the stockers at a local department store, specifically for their clothing department. He was a college student and the only reason he was working here is that it was walking distance from his dorm and it had a flexible schedule. This was still his first week at work though since they’d apparently needed a new hire rather desperately. At the moment, though, he was doing the worst part of the job--going into the storage in the back.
There wasn’t too much back here that would be worrying. It had most of what you’d expect for a clothing department--shirts and jeans and shoes and socks and any other article of clothing you could think of socked and stored away. No, the real problem was the one thing in storage room held that wasn’t clothing. It was a single mannequin, standing at 6′ even in height. It seemed rather standard in its build other than the pot belly it had. Mark has seen the plus sized mannequin’s before, their store had a few. But this one was different.
It was the third time Mark has had to come back here since he started his job and ever time, he felt like he was being watched. There was only one thing in the entire room that could be doing it, the blank faced mannequin that stood in the back. He absolutely hated it. He throws a shirt over its face--something he’d done last time, too--and gets to grabbing the stack of jeans he needed to restock the display.
Even with the shirt, he could feel the thing watching him still. He doesn’t have this issue with any of the other mannequins in the store, but this one damn thing just creeps him out to no end. He tries his best to move quickly. He gets an armful of jeans and turns to head back. “...huh?” The shirt that Mark had thrown over the mannequin’s face was laying in a heap on the floor. Normally, one would assume it simply fell off, but the shirt was sitting at least a foot away from the mannequin. It was almost as if...the shirt had been thrown off...
“Fuck this.” Mark sets the jeans down and marches over to the mannequin. “I’m not some little kid. A plastic dummy doesn’t scare me!” He grabs it by the hips and spins it around so it faced the wall instead of him. Satisfied with his moment of bravery, Mark nods and starts walking back to the jeans. He’s stopped in his tracks by a pair of cold, stiff hands grabbing his shoulders. Something wet drips onto his head and he looks up just in time to see a smooth, featureless face...that suddenly grew a large, dark maw dripping with drool from its long tongue and sharp teeth.
Mark didn’t get a chance to scream. His head and shoulders were engulfed in one swift movement. Mark’s arms were pinned to his side, leaving him unable to push away. His legs kick as he’s hoisted in the air, the mannequin’s head tipping back to get gravity on its side.
Wet, messy gulps fill the room as Mark sank deeper and deeper. His muffled screaming could barely be heard plastic the hard plastic of the mannequin or the soft fat and flesh just under it. His legs kick wildly as he was devoured. His torso was gone in only a couple of gulps and those flailing legs were quickly following.
The event lasted an eternity for Mark as the tight gullet dragged in deeper into the growling stomach, feeling sharp teeth graze his body and a curious tongue exploring him. Cold air from the storage room AC was replaced with the warm, moist air of the mannequin’s breath. The tongue curls around his kicking feet as the maw clicks shut and a final gulp sends the last bits of the college student sliding down. He barely lasted five minutes against the predator.
The mannequin’s gut bulges out heavily, the shape of a human curled up inside. Mark was panicking, struggling for his life as the organ warmed itself up for a very harsh, very messy digestion. The mannequin’s stiff hand slowly rubs along the side of his gut as he walks back to his resting place. This meal would last him the rest of the day and keep him sated for about a week. That was just enough time for it to hack up Mark’s uniform to be cleaned and washed so the next emergency hire could wear it.
A deep belch rumbled out of the mannequin, echoing in the back room. No one would hear it except for the manager lingering outside the door. The storage room would stay locked for the rest of the day and by the time it would open again, there would be no more Mark and a slightly fatter mannequin in the back.