My Story
By Trent Coners
The
electronic bell buzzed as Chris entered the large
toys
and collectables store on the corner of down
town’s
main street. Chris gave a few nods to the
regulars
as he headed to the large selection of action
figures
on the wall of the recently renovated store.
The
display was filled with figures from films and
television:
Matrix, horror films, GI joe, and mostly
star
wars, of course. The selection was good, much
better
than it had been in the past before the store
came
under new management of a man who was supposedly
an
avid toy collector as Chris was, although he had
not
yet been introduced to him. In fact, more than
just
the merchandise selection, the entire store
seemed
new and up scale, with new arcade machines in
the
corner and a large plasma screen showing anime on
another
end of the store. The new manager certainly
invested
a large amount of capital in all the repairs.
Today
was new merchandise day, and Chris was there
trying
to get first dibbs on any good finds before his
classes
started. Toy collecting had been a hobby for
him
since his childhood, and now as a 22 year-old
college
student, was still something he enjoyed in
between
school and his commitment to the college water
polo
team.
Picking
up a small box containing a figure of princess
Leia
in a rebel outfit and examining the condition and
price,
a voice from over his shoulder caught his
attention.
“May
I help you find anything?” Asked a tall man in
his
early 30’s. Chris replied,
“Oh,
no thanks, I’m just checking out the new stock
before
I head out to class.”
“You
come in here often don’t you? You seem to be a
pretty
devoted collector.”
“Yeah,
thanks, I actually used to shop in here all the
time
back when Ted owned the place. I can’t believe
what
you’ve done here,” said Chris, motioning to the
rest
of the store. “The place looks amazing, you must
have
spent a fortune on all the new stuff, and as much
as
I liked the store Ted ran, there seems to be a much
better
selection than before.”
“Well
I’m glad you like the store…?” Raising his
eyebrows,
the man seemed to hang on an un-asked
question.
“Oh,
sorry, I’m Chris, pleased to meet you.” Chris
exchanged
the figure he was still holding between
hands
and held out his right hand to the man.
“Paul
Lockwood.,” the man replied, shaking Chris’
hand.
“And I appreciate your feedback. So how long
have
you been a collector?”
“Oh,
since I was a kid. I never seemed to grow out of
the
darn things,” said Chris, chuckling. “Mostly I
collect
star wars figures. Yeah, I know, how strange
is
that? Ha ha. I’ve got a pretty good collection of
horror
film figures as well. McFarlane always seems
to
deliver some pretty quality figures.”
“McFarlane
toys have always been a big seller. So
tell
me, do you invest in any high priced figures?
Specialty
figures?” Asked Paul.
“Well,
Some of my older figures are worth something on
the
collector’s market, but I don’t think I’ve ever
paid
large amounts up front. For me the fun has
always
been in bargain hunting, you know? But why do
you
ask?”
“Well,”
replied Paul, “I specialize in a selection of
exclusive
figures. They’re amazingly lifelike and
designed,
custom, based on popular characters. Would
you
be interested?”
“I
dunno, I might be. Mind if I take a look at them?”
“Well,
I’m afraid not at first. I have artistic and
intellectual
property I have to protect, and all of my
private
customers have to sign a few agreements and
pass
some requirements of mine.”
“Requirements?
You have requirements for your toys?”
“Basically
I need to make sure my customers don’t have
a
problem with what it is that I’m selling. I’m happy
to
say though, once shown my figures, I’ve never had a
customer
refuse to sign any of my non disclosure
agreements.
Not to boast, but quite frankly they’re
that
amazing. A perfect addition for any serious
collector.”
The man had begun to smile with pride.
By
this point, Chris had become genuinely intrigued in
what
the store owner was selling. How could anyone
have
a problem with a toy? While it sounded strange,
Chris
just had to know what it was that made these
toys
so special. “Well in that case, when can I start
signing
these papers of yours? How much do these
things
cost?”
“Pricing
is usually based on a per item basis. If
what
you want is not in stock, it might take me some
time
to find the right….model. I also usually
consider
who it is I’m selling to. You’ve been a long
time
supporter of the store, and since you’re local..”
“You
sell these on the internet or something?”
“Oh
of course, I’ve customers world wide. But as I
was
saying, since you’re also a local, I’m sure I can
give
you a bargain.” The man gave the smile of a
salesman
who felt he was about to close a deal. “I
can
probably start you at around five thousand,
depending
on the model of course.”
Chris
did a double take.
“Five
thousand?! Oh….I had no idea. When you said
they
were expensive I thought you had meant in the
hundreds
range, maybe 5 hundred at most. There’s no
way
I can afford to spend that kind of money on a
toy.”
The
store owner chuckled. “Believe me when I say that
these
are unlike any “toy” you have ever seen.”
“Look
man, I’m sure they’re great, but I’m barely
getting
by with tuition and my rent.” The store
owner’s
smile began to fade leaving behind an
awkwardness
that made Chris feel uneasy.
“Pardon
me, I may have confused you with someone with
a
higher…..spending limit.”
“You
thought I was rich? What, do you only bother
giving
out your sales pitches to wealthy people?”
Chris
had been insulted by the man’s rude remark and
sudden
lack of interest in him.
“Look,
kid…”
Chris
angrily interrupted, “I’m 22.” The man just
chuckled
and lowered his head in frustration.
“My
mistake, but what I was getting to is that I was
not
trying to insult you, it’s just that my figures
are
a premium line. Large amounts of time, effort,
and….risk,
are involved in making them, so naturally I
sell
them for very large amounts. I’m sorry if I made
a
misjudgment in my sales pitch, but apparently
they’re
just not for you. I’m sure you’ll continue to
enjoy
the rest of my store. It was nice meeting you.”
The
man began to walk away towards a door labeled
“Private.”
“Wait..”
Chris called out, “can’t I just take a look
at
them? I mean…maybe I’ll like what I see and we can
work
out some sort of payment plan?” Chris had no
intention
of ever spending that much money on a toy,
but
by thus point he was genuinely intrigued and would
say
anything to get a glimpse of these “amazing”
figures.
“Sorry,
but as I said, the selection is only viewable
to
customers who have met certain requirements. Have
a
nice day.” The man disappeared behind the door.
Chris
was left frustrated by the encounter and filled
with
a strong curiosity. He simply had to see what
was
behind that door. He figured he would wait around
a
while until the owner had left for his lunch and
then
try to sneak in for a quick peek. Maybe he would
get
caught and be banned from the store, but he really
didn’t
care. There were other toy stores in town.
Standing
in the other half of the store, looking
occupied
with comics, Chris waited for just over an
hour
until the owner to emerge from the back room with
a
box marked “Fragile.” Chris wondered if it may have
been
one of his figures. The man walked to the front
of
the store and told one of his employees he’d be
going
down a couple blocks to mail something. It
wasn’t
as long as a lunch break would take, but Chris
figured
he better take the opportunity. Waiting for
the
man to leave the store, Chris moved as
nonchalantly
as he could to the private door, and
making
sure that the other employees were preoccupied,
he
quickly stepped in, not noticing the small red
light
that began to blink on the inside of the doorway
as
he entered the room.
Inside
was what seemed like a work room with various
pieces
of high tech equipment. Tables covered in
precision
tools and paints, pieces of cloth and half
finished
props and molds, lined the walls. Behind a
large
glass window was another room with some sort of
large
apparatus pointing to an circular area on the
ground
marked off with black and yellow stripes;
equipment
lining the walls covered with voltage
warning
signs described that whatever the thing was it
probably
used huge amounts of power. Bizarre, thought
Chris.
Everything looked sterile and in its place,
but
where were the toys? Chris noticed another large
glass
window separating this room from another, only
the
other room was dark. On the wall Chris noticed a
panel
of switches, one of which was labeled “showroom
lights.”
He flipped the switch and looked through the
window
at the now illuminated room. It looked like
what
you might figure a showroom to look like, nice
carpeting,
artwork and designs framed on the walls,
shelves
and display cases featuring what seemed to be
busts
and figures, and then on the far wall, a large
display,
seemingly the room’s main attraction, that
was
covered with boxed figures. Something about them
looked
strange. As the lights came on, the items in
the
boxes seemed to almost react to the sudden
brightness.
Chris entered through a door next to the
window
to go in for a closer look. As he walked up to
the
display, he became more an more positive that the
figures
were in fact moving, not a lot, but they were
moving.
It wasn’t any sort of robotic movement, not
the
kind of movement that a figure with built in
servos
in it’s arms would make, it was the kind of
organic
movement that only a small animal could make,
in
fact it almost looked like struggling. Chris’ mind
was
filled with amazement as he reached the display.
What
he was seeing couldn’t be possible, how had the
man
done this? He reached out and grabbed what looked
like
a spiderman figure from the display. The figure
was
about 4 inches tall, dressed in a spiderman outfit
without
the mask, which was placed in a separate part
of
the box. The figure struggled in it’s box with its
arms
and legs pinned down by zip ties to the
cardboard.
Through the tightness of the spiderman
outfit,
the body seemed almost too real, even down to
certain
anatomically correct details that the skin
tight
outfit made visible.
Chris
then looked in to examine the face, and whatever
feeling
of amazement he had was replaced with a
feeling
of horror. At first he had written off the
struggling
as a programmed movement, made possible by
some
sort of incredible animatronics the store owner
had
perfected. The face however, was not the face of
Peter
Parker, it was a face filled with fear and
desperation
in it’s tiny eyes. Most importantly,
however,
it was the face Chad Gherke, a basketball
player
from his college who had supposedly made a trip
to
Northern California and hadn’t returned. Chris was
about
to call Chad’s name, but noticed upon closer
inspection
that his mouth was covered with a small
piece
of flesh colored tape. Chris, his face painted
with
shock and confusion, looked at the other figured
on
the display: Luke Skywalker, Superman, Neo, each in
a
custom box, each various sizes between 4 and about 7
inches,
and each looking at Chris with fear in their
eyes.
It was about that time that Chris was to grab
the
spiderman figure, or rather he should say, Chad,
and
perhaps whoever else he could manage to hold, and
make
a run for it, to the police, the FBI, whoever it
took,
when he felt a sharp pain in his butt as
something
stuck him. He turned around, almost
dropping
Chad to the ground, to see Paul, the store
owner
looking at him with an evil grin. Chris pulled
the
feathered dart out of his ass and held it up to
his
face to see what he had been hit with, and then
almost
instantly, felt his strength leave him as he
collapsed
to the ground on his butt. Paul walked up
to
him and pulled Chad out of his hands and placed him
back
on the display case.
“You
realize you’re trespassing on my property, right?
That
door is clearly marked private. No one is
allowed
down here without my escort. You could have
damaged
one of my figures, or worse, some of my
equipment.”
Chris tried to reply through his panting.
“What
is…….you can’t……what…” Chris tried in vain to
pull
his strength together as he fell fully on to his
back.
“Well
it looks like I’ll be making a profit off you
after
all,” said Paul. “I really hate to do this to
one
of my customers and especially a fellow collector,
but
you shouldn’t have let your curiosity get the
better
of you.” Paul walked over to the large machine
two
rooms away and began hitting a series of switches,
and
then walked back over to Chris and began to grab
him
by the legs and drag him across the room. The
last
thing he heard before blacking out was a Paul
saying
something about orders that had to be placed,
and
the sound of the large machine in the other room
warming
up.
Chris
awoke with a small pain in his head. Something
didn’t
seem right. The last thing he remembered was
wanting
to go down to the toys and hobby store before
practice
to check out the new stock. Had he
overslept?
He was lying on his back, his head to the
side,
and as his vision cleared he saw his clothes
about
20 feet across slick white surface. They looked
torn
and cut up, in pieces. It felt like he was
wearing
something thick and heavy. It also felt like
he
was wearing a jock strap, but he never wore those.
He
tried to get up but his hands and waist were being
held
down by……a giant zip tie? Suddenly it all came
back
to him, the store, the back room, the expensive
toys
that were actually people, being hit with a
tranquilizer.
He looked down and saw that he was
dressed
in army clothes, boots and camouflage. His
legs
weren’t tied down and he seemed to be resting on
a
piece of colorful cardboard. His mind kept asking a
question
that he was too afraid to find out the answer
to.
How big was he? The answer, whether he liked it
or
not, came to him as the face of Paul, the store
owner,
gigantic, filled his vision.
Chris
screamed.
Paul
sighed with a sense of annoyance, and as if he’d
done
it a thousand times before, squeezed the top and
bottom
Chris’ head gently between two fingers, pushing
his
mouth firmly shut with his giant thumb, and using
his
other hand, applied a square of the flash colored
tape
that Chris had seen on the other “figures” over
his
own mouth.
“Stop
screaming.” Said Chris as he pulled his hand
back.
Chris’ mind was overloading with panic. Paul
reached
down and pulled two more small zip ties from a
drawer.
“Whether
you like it or not, you’re now a permanent
addition
to my line of exclusive figures. Get used to
it,”
Paul said harshly. “I was fresh out of GI Joe
characters,
and luckily you’re in great shape. You
said
earlier you were in some kind of sport? I’ve
still
got an order for a He-Man figure, but you can’t
imagine
how hard it is to find a white body builder
who’s
disappearance would be easily explainable. Stop
squirming.”
Paul grabbed one of Chris feet, pulled
his
leg downward, and used the zip tie to attach it to
part
of the board, and then did the same with the
other.
“Really,
you might consider thanking me. My process
has
basically given you eternal youth. It just
wouldn’t
do for me to be selling things like Spiderman
figures
if you’re friend over there, or you for that
matter,
are just going to eventually age and fall out
of
shape. You’ll remain in your current physical
state
until you die.”
Chris
renewed his struggling.
“Can’t
really say how that might be, as I’ve not fully
tested
whether or not the process of putting your
physical
state in to stasis also results in eternal
life,
and of course, I can’t really guarantee that
nothing
bad will ever happen to you. My warranties
don’t
cover earthquakes, fires, floods, acts of God or
War,”
Paul said with a chuckle. Chris tried to scream
through
the tape but it just came through as a muffled
yell.
Paul was busy attaching other things to the
cardboard
base, a small detailed knife, a machine gun,
and
other toy accessories.
“Well,
you’re just about finished. I have some
prospective
customers coming in later, and GI Joe
figures
are always a big seller, so you might not find
yourself
in my showroom for too long. Most of my
customers
are toy collectors, but I have to be
perfectly
honest, I think some of them end up buying
my
figures for other reasons, if you know what I
mean.”
Paul gave Chris a smirk and poked him in his
groin
with his giant finger. Chris squirmed tried to
yell
something again.
“You’ve
got something to say?” Paul reached down and
removed
the tape from Chris’ mouth.
“Please…please
don’t do this!” Chris pleaded through
tears.
“I have a life…I…I’m not a toy that you can
sell!”
Paul simply shrugged.
“Meh,
you are now.” Chris started screaming for help
but
was cut off as Paul’s fingers grabbed his head a
second
time to hold his mouth closed while he applied
another
piece of tape. Paul then took up a piece of
clear
plastic and after carefully applying some epoxy
to
the edges of it, pressed it down over Chris,
fastening
it to the cardboard. The suddenly Chris
felt
has weight shift from his back to his hanging
limbs
and midsection as Paul picked up the box and
carried
it over to the display case. When Chris felt
the
box come to a rest, he looked over to his side to
see
Chad, still in his spiderman outfit, with his head
hanging
down in hopelessness. He looked, from Chris’
perspective,
to be about the same size as himself,
putting
him at about 4 inches. Chris watched as Paul
exited
the room, closing the door behind him. Paul
gave
Chris one last look before the lights went out.
Hanging
there in the darkness, Chris began to sob.
End