When the three entered the living room, the mannequin was sitting in the love seat again. It looked up and said, "Please make yourself comfortable, Suzanne, and let me know if you need anything."
Suzanne was tired from the journey, and she had no tolerance left for this absurd prank. She wanted answers.
"I’ll tell you what I need, Mister," Suzanne said, pointing her finger at the mannequin, "you can tell me right now how you know my name! I’m sure I didn’t tell you. If this is all a," she waved her hands, "a prank TV show or something, I’m not laughing. In fact, I can guarantee you I’m going to sue you for all you’re worth, you hear? And if I miss my dad’s funeral because of you, I’m going to HURT you, I swear to God!" She was breathing hard and her body was shaking a little with adrenaline, preparing for a potential violent confrontation. In contrast, the mannequin showed no reaction and stood absolutely, eerily still.
"Yeah, you heard the lady. I’ve just about had enough too. What’s going on here?" Marvin added in an unamused tone. The mannequin seemed to consider this. Its face was a flat, blank mask without even a hint of a nose or any other facial features that could indicate its emotional state. The face briefly turned towards Marvin, then back to Suzanne. The high, clear voice seemed to emanate from the head, but it didn’t sound like it was made by a mouth behind a mask.
"You chose this building as your home, Suzanne. I am the servant assigned to this dwelling. My purpose is to make your stay as comfortable as possible, using all my abilities." It fell silent. The group exchanged glances. Suzanne noticed Marvin had tiny goosebumps on his neck. Cecil’s eyes were wide open.
"I didn’t choose anything, mister! All I did was go through the open front door so I could find someone who could show us the way out of this stupid place!" Suzanne retorted.
"You entered this building, Suzanne. You chose it as your home," the mannequin answered calmly, matter-of-factly.
"None of us care about a house in a creepy, empty town, jackass! We just want to go home, and you’re going to show us the way out right now!" Marvin shouted. His face was flushed and his nostrils flared as he yelled at the white figure. Suzanne recoiled as she saw him draw his pistol from under his shirt and point it at the mannequin. Cecil staggered backward, raising his hands. The young man’s eyes were locked on the gleaming black steel of the weapon. The mannequin’s right arm darted forward, elongating and warping like melting white plastic, and its hand liquified and engulfed the gun like a child squeezing an excess of glue over a model kit. Glistening white matter flowed up the driver’s arm up to the elbow. It looked like liquid white wall paint, but when Marvin tried to free his trapped hand, he couldn’t move it even when he grabbed onto the stuck forearm with his other hand. Suzanne shouted at the mannequin to let the driver go and also grabbed onto the immobilized arm. It was like Marvin had stuck it into wet concrete, which had hardened instantly. She couldn’t be sure how heavy the mannequin was, but it didn’t seem to struggle or even move while Marvin and herself were hanging on for dear life. Cecil seemed too shocked to decide what to do and was standing in the corner, shouting at everyone to calm down, but didn’t involve himself in the fight otherwise.
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Suzanne let go and grabbed a heavy looking ceramic ornament in the shape of a blue fish off a coffee table. Holding it by the tail, she swung her makeshift club in a wide arc at the mannequin’s head. The fish connected with the mannequin’s temple, and Suzanne grunted as the shock of the impact traveled down her arm. She dodged awkwardly as the hunk of ceramic bounced back and almost hit her as well. Her weapon was chipped at the point where it had impacted but didn’t break. The mannequin didn’t react at all to the hit, which she was sure would have knocked out or at least hurt any person alive. Stunned for a moment, she rallied and tried it again, with the same lack of effect. The improvised club slammed into the impassive white head several more times. Marvin had tired of his escape attempt and was standing still, struggling to breathe after the exertion. Suzanne had halted her assault as well, understanding that this wasn’t going to work. She decided to reason with the uncanny being, which she was now quite certain could not be a human being.
"No, please, you have to let him go. We don’t mean to harm you; we’re just scared and want to get home." She forced herself to sound calm and reasonable, but her voice was shaking with adrenaline and panic.
"I cannot let your companion wield a dangerous weapon inside this house, Suzanne. It could potentially injure you."
"Yes, I understand. Marvin doesn’t want to harm anyone. Isn’t that right?" She turned to the man and spoke as calmly as she could. "Marvin, please let go of the gun so our friend can take it for safekeeping." The trapped man was sweating profusely and a dark stain had formed in the front of his white shirt, but he nodded. She couldn’t see what was happening inside the white blob surrounding his hand and the weapon, but the stuff receded slowly as Marvin drew back his now empty hand. The three people in the room, as well as the white being of indeterminate origin, were silent for a moment.
"Okay… I think we all need to calm down and talk this through like adults," Cecil finally said.