FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Edited and Corrected by Ben243

My brother was about to go on a camping trip and I still owed him a Christmas present, so I decided to buy him a new Sleeping Bag from one of those Army Stores. As I entered the store I saw all sorts of stuff piling up to the ceiling. Uniforms from all over the world, hats and helmets, patches, flags, belts, guns... I was impressed, but it was also very dusty and dim lit in there.

I greeted the Shopkeeper, a middle aged man who resembled the fat version of Bruce Willis, if Bruce Willis had been a grumpy old High School Janitor. What he lacked on hair on his head, he made up with the rest of his body, although most of it was already white as snow. One might say he looked like a polar bear after chemotherapy!

I asked him about the Sleeping Bag and while he was searching for it, asked how business was going. He made most of his salary by supplying collectors, theaters and students from the nearby film school. That went quiet well, so he could afford to keep prices low, and still fill the place up with lots of stuff. I was intrigued by his collection and began to browse around a little more.

In one of the rooms at the back I found some really old Uniform coats from the Second World War. As I took one off the shelf, another one slipped down and fell on the floor. I bent down to pick it up when a little piece of metal in between the masses of coats caught my eye. It was a medal, a Purple Heart. A goddamn Purple Heart! Wow! That thing must be worth quiet something. I looked around. The Shopkeeper was out of sight, so I took my chance, picked it up and put it in my pocket.

I paid the Sleeping Bag and was about to leave, considering where I could sell my little treasure, when I suddenly stopped, like I had forgotten something. Only I knew I hadn't. I stood in the door way to the store, unsure what's happening. There was a strange sensation creeping up my legs. Almost like that feeling when your foot falls asleep. The paralysis spreaded further up my body to my waist. I couldn't feel anything below it but a tingling. I started to panic and tried to call out, but my mouth wouldn't respond. As the tingling made its way up my chest, it gave me an almost pleasant feeling of calm, even though my mind kept telling me I should panic. It wasn't long before I lost all feeling in my arms, replaced by that numb tingling. I had hardly noticed that I had stopped breathing, but I wasn't suffocating. When it finally reached the top of my head, I was completely unable to move even the tiniest part of my body. I couldn't even blink. I simply stood there and starred in front of me.

It took the Shopkeeper a while to see what had happened. "Oh no, you haven't!" he grunted mysteriously. He came to me, looked me in the eyes and I could see he was seriously concerned. "Nonono! What have you done, you damn moron?" He searched my pockets until he found the medal I'd stolen. With a grim look he shook his head, but I was too baffled about what had happened to feel guilty. I felt a strange hollowness growing inside of me, like all my internal organs were about to disappear. At the same time my skin became dry and hard. What was happening to me?

The Shopkeeper surely knew, but he was angry right now and he punished me with silence. What was this? Some kind of trap? Did he drug me? That would have been a halfway plausible explanation, instead I was left alone with my questions and not enough of that, unable to move even a muscle. Yet the horror had just started!

He closed the front door, fetched a trolley, dragged me on to it - I was stiff like a piece of wood - and took me into one of the other rooms in the back. Then, in a hurry, he stripped me of my clothes. I screamed in my head, felt violated and scared to death, but I couldn't do anything. I expected him to do god knows what with me, but not that he would pick some Uniform stuff out of the shelves and begin to dress me up like a life-sized G.I. Joe action figure.

He was constantly panting while kneeling down, out of my sight, so I wasn't sure at first what to think, but he was just slipping some pants up my legs and placing a pair of boots on my feet. Then he cautiously pushed my arms down so he could slip them in a Uniform shirt. Within minutes he had prepared me with lots of other stuff, like a jacket, a combat vest, belts with all sorts of stuff, gloves, he even had the nerve to give me a rifle. He positioned me in an "At attention" posture, pulled a Ski mask over my head, gave me some ballistic goggles with darkened glasses and fitted a helmet on my head. Then he inspected his work again. For every costumer who would enter now, it seemed I was just a Dummy. For now it would be enough, so he went back to reopen the door and left me there, unable to do anything.

During the rest of the day people came and went. Some looked at me and I was hoping they would see that something was wrong somehow and rescue me. But they always left as fast as they entered, so I was screwed. I couldn't even hope for my brother to come, I hadn't told him or anyone else where I went. Even if they were lucky enough to find this place, the Shopkeeper could get rid of them so easily. Nobody would think of inspecting the Dummies in the back to find me. At 6 pm he closed the store and went home, without telling me for how long I would have to stay here. I was left alone in the dark, unable to move, unable to sleep, awake the whole night. Just a dummy soldier, standing at attention. I wasn't me anymore!

The rest of the week I was ignored, a part of the inventory. I tried to accept my fate. What else was there left to do? If I had lost my mind, what use would it be for me, for anyone? At least I had no need for sleep or food or even to go to the toilet. One day a real soldier entered the store and took a closer look at me. Could it be he'd come to free me from my predicament? As I was about to find out, it was an old friend and supplier of the Shopkeeper, who was switching to Recruitment and asking if he could borrow me for their booth at this year's Career Expo. I expected to hear the Shopkeeper refusing, but to my big surprise he was completely okay with that and even started to lift my helmet and mask. Why would he do that? The soldier would see there was a man underneath all that and call the police. Or was he an accomplice? It seemed so, because as he looked at me, he didn't react, like it was the most normal thing in the world to kidnap people and enslave them as their shop dummies!

I was completely stripped and the Shopkeeper rubbed me clean with some cleaning fluid and a rag, like he did lately with the shelves. Then he packed me in some Bubble wrap, tightened me up with Duck tape and the soldier carried me into his truck. He was surprisingly strong for one, not that muscle packed of a man. He laid me in the rear of an Army truck and we were driving a good hour. The floor must been cold, it was November after all. But strangely enough I couldn't feel a thing! Maybe I was still numb from standing there the whole time in that ridiculous outfit.

At the fairground I was carried out of the truck by a young private, and taken to the Booth for the Recruitment Center, where they unpacked me. There I finally realized why nobody reacted to me as a human being anymore. Some guys transported a big mirror along the corridors, crossing my way. In it I saw a man-sized Plastic puppet with only the smallest resemblance of the man I used to be. I was glad when they'd gone, I was terrified of my appearance! Would I ever change back? I really hoped so, even when it meant I had to transform in front of all these people and the visitors of the Expo. The important thing was, that this Nightmare finally came to an end!

But it didn't! I was dressed in full Combat armor and displayed in front of the Recruitment Booth, next to the American Flag. The soldiers called me Bob and I was very popular with the crowd. There was always someone taking a selfie with me. That was quiet annoying, but nothing compared to the easily impressed Teenagers, young men and women I was luring in with my badass appearance. They saw me, thinking how cool it would be if it were them wearing that Uniform - I could tell, it wouldn't - and entered the booth to get themselves bombarded with alluring propaganda and promises, and finally convinced to enlist and serve their country. I was seriously concerned about that! There was a good chance they could become heroes, even Generals of course. But not an insignificant number of them risked being killed in a foreign county or to come back lacking limbs or their sanity. I wasn't sure I wanted to be part of that! In between pauses I could overhear the soldiers, talking about the war in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Syria. It was horrible! My heart broke as a young boy, maybe around 8 years old, was starring at me, like he dreamed of all the Adventures and Excitement he could have in the Army. At this moment, he had decided to become a Soldier when he grew up. And if anything happened to him, it would be my fault!

When the Expo finally ended I was glad to come back to the store, although it meant I had to stay in there again for quiet a while. The soldier told his old friend the Shopkeeper, they had increased their sign up rate because of me and was about to negotiate to buy me, as their mascot and lucky charm. The Shopkeeper said he would think about it and said goodbye to his friend. How could he even consider such a thing? He was the only one who knew I was a Human and it was completely immoral! On the other hand, what of the things he had done to me so far weren't? He didn't even talked to me! Did he know I was still conscious, that there was a human mind still hearing and seeing everything? Better I didn't thought about what it meant!

He dressed me in a new uniform, which got easier for him because I was also as light as a dummy now. This time I resembled a Firefighter, which I felt more comfortable as, because they were actually helping people. A month later I was dressed as a Union soldier from the American Civil War, then as a Russian sailor from the days of the Cold War, as a British Police Constable - for which he attached a false mustache under my nose - and so on. In December I wore the Uniform of a Canadian Mountie, holding a stuffed beaver in my right hand. It was the first Christmas without my family. I wondered what happened to them? They surely were devastated about my loss - poor Mom and Dad!

I was surprised the Shopkeeper wasn't decorating. He hadn't even bothered to call his family. Maybe he had none. I never gave it that big of a thought! Except for his soldier friend he seemed to have no personal relationships to anyone. I felt pity for him, even if he was that ignorant bastard who held me hostage in here! Also there was me, who himself had, at this point, nobody to celebrate Christmas at all. Well, maybe the beaver!

Shortly after Christmas something really bad happened! The Shopkeeper had a Heart attack. I could hear him fall and cry for help at his counter, but nobody else was around to hear him. For hours there had been no costumers and I, as the only one who was nearby and would have helped if he could, wasn't able too. After a while it was silent again. When he was finally found it was too late - he was dead!

The store was closed for good and it seemed I was inherited by the soldier, who dressed me up again in full Combat armor and displayed me in the front window of his Recruitment Office. There I stood for the next few years, luring in people to become heroes and cannon fodder. I saw young boys returning time and time again to admire me, until they were old enough to enlist. Then I saw them never again and wondered if they were still alive. I heard crying mothers arguing with the personnel about what had happened to their poor children. I saw rebellious youngsters showing me the middle finger and spraying words like MURDERER against the window. I saw people passing by, stopping, and watching. Until one day I was finally retired.

The old friend of the Shopkeeper was gone long before me. His successors decided to get rid of me after some more years. I was undressed and landed in the alley, ready to be taken by the garbage men and crushed by the trash compactor on the rear of their truck. It was a beautiful night though! At least I could see the stars again, one last time. If I still had my own skin, I would have felt the cold autumn wind. How it felt, I'd long since forgotten. Maybe I was a Shop window dummy all my life. Maybe I dreamt all the things I had before: My parents, my brother, and my life. But on the other hand: Could Dummies dream?

The next morning I could already hear the truck coming from far away! They were about to empty the trash cans nearby and shortly they would arrive, to pick me up. I wouldn't feel a thing, but I was afraid anyway. I don't wanted to die, alone and forgotten, a piece of garbage no worth to anyone. A piece of plastic that would take forever to rot... Suddendly the door sprang open and I could hear a familiar voice: "You can't do that to old Bob! He deserves better, Watkins!" As I was pulled up again I saw it was the old soldier, the Shopkeeper's friend. "But look a him, he's already damaged!" his successor grunted. "That can be fixed, don't you worry! I also know the right place for him!" - "I'm sorry, Sir, but I don't understand why this is important enough for you to drive all the way here, for this old piece of plastic!" That made the old soldier really cross.

"Captain Fred Everett. Ever heard of him?" The other man nodded. "He singlehandedly saved a whole village in Afghanistan. 16 children and their families. I met him last week at the parade, and when we're talking about which paths had led us to become soldiers, you know what he said?" He made a pause and continued: "He saw this so called Piece of Plastic!" He pointed at me and I was baffled. "He was just a little boy when he and his family were visiting the fairground, where we had our booth and Bob here standing in front of it. I can't believe I missed this moment, when Little Freddy looked up to him and decided to become a Soldier himself one day!" I remembered now. That little boy at the Expo, all this years ago. I was really touched about this story and had to admit, I'd never thought about all the good things my job at the Recruitment Center had to offer. That it would actually bring someone to help others, instead of just killing them. A whole village? All on his own? Respect, Captain Everett! "Also: This dummy belonged to an old friend of mine and I promised to keep an eye on him! So would you please help me bringing old Bob to my van?"

The old soldier refurbished and donated me to the Museum of Military History in Washington D.C., where I was supposed to represent Captain Everett; later Major, Colonel and finally General. I finally was someone again, although not myself and only the idea of a man, but still. Displayed behind glass in full Glory, admired by many visitors from all over the country. The funny thing is: They even gave me a Purple Heart!