A Collection of Mannequins: A Ghost Story

A Collection of Mannequins: A Ghost StoryI have a mannequin story… years ago, I worked for a museum and art gallery. We would sometimes have old clothing and jewelry and hats to display. We had a huge collection of mannequins for this purpose. We needed another one for a display that we were setting up and my boss sent me down the street to pick one up. I walked over to the building where they were stored – an old medical building and later psychiatric ward. It was super creepy over there normally, cold, dark, little windows that let in a bit of light here and there.
I walked up the narrow staircase and got to the landing. A quick look down the hall, and all of the doors were shut and padlocked (old doors, no regular locks and since the city was storing so many valuables, the doors were locked with padlocks). I looked to my left down the other hallway – where the mannequins were stored – and walked towards the room. I unlocked the padlock and opened the door. The room is sort of horrific… filled with empty, soulless bodies. Some smiling, some smirking, some emotionless. They are piled almost to the ceiling. Legs and arms jutting out here and there. The smell of plastic, old dust, and synthetic hair fills the room.
A Collection of Mannequins: A Ghost StoryI grab the mannequin closest to the door, practically toss her into the hallway – ready to leave as quickly as possible. I shut the door quickly and lock the padlock. I pick her back up and begin to walk back towards the landing at the top of the stairs. When I get there, I feel a cold rush down my left side and somehow the sun coming through the window is abnormally bright. I look down that first hallway, now on my left and THREE OF THE DOORS ARE OPEN!! Just suddenly. No noise, no creak of the old doors opening, nothing. No one is there. I am completely alone. I call out once just to be sure… “Is someone there?” Silence.
I dropped the mannequin on the landing and ran down the stairs as quickly as I could, out the door, and still running, all the way back to the museum. I was out of breath and my heart was racing, but not from the running as much as from the fear that had washed over me. When I got back to the museum, my boss asked where the mannequin was. I told her what happened and explained why someone else was gonna have to go back and grab that mannequin – or at the very least come with me!

Have you ever had an encounter with mannequins? I would love to hear your story in the comments!



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