Where the Trees Watch – Chapter 16
The Mannequins Around the Fire
The clearing smelled strongly of smoke and wet wood. Flames from the bonfire cracked loudly against the heavy silence surrounding the trees, sending orange light flickering across the endless rows of mannequins standing around the edge of the clearing.
Ryan Mercer physically slowed to a stop while trying to process what he was seeing. At least thirty mannequins stood scattered among the black pines beyond the firelight. Some leaned crookedly against tree trunks while others stood upright facing the flames with stiff plastic heads tilted slightly downward.
Every single one looked damaged.
Burn marks covered several of them. Others were cracked apart across the face or chest. Moss and dirt spread across pale plastic skin like rot slowly reclaiming them from the forest.
Claire whispered beside him, “Why are these here?”
No one answered.
Because none of them had any explanation that made sense anymore.
Mason carefully scanned the clearing without stepping too far forward. Ryan noticed the guide keeping his distance from the mannequins specifically, almost like he feared getting too close to them.
The fire itself looked wrong too.
Too large.
Too controlled.
The flames burned steadily despite damp air and surrounding fog, yet Ryan couldn’t see any fresh wood feeding the blaze beneath the collapsing black logs at the center.
Then he realized something worse.
There was no smoke rising into the sky.
The smoke drifted downward instead.
Slow gray streams curling along the ground between the mannequins before disappearing into the forest.
Ryan felt uneasiness tighten harder in his chest.
Claire slowly lifted the camera again. “This place looks staged.”
Mason immediately snapped, “Don’t touch anything.”
The guide’s voice carried genuine panic now.
Ryan stepped carefully toward the nearest mannequin while keeping his flashlight fixed on it. The figure stood partly hidden behind one of the enormous pines near the clearing edge. Female mannequin. Missing one arm. Half its face melted slightly as though exposed to intense heat years earlier.
But what stopped Ryan cold—
was the jacket.
Dark blue hiking jacket.
Exactly like the backpack owner from earlier.
He slowly turned the mannequin’s shoulder toward the firelight.
A university patch remained stitched onto the sleeve.
University of Oregon Outdoor Club.
Ryan’s stomach dropped.
Claire saw it too and lowered the camera slowly. “That’s impossible.”
The mannequin wore the missing hiker’s clothes.
Then Mason quietly whispered, “Don’t look at the faces.”
Too late.
Ryan’s flashlight drifted upward toward the mannequin’s damaged face.
At first it looked normal enough — pale plastic features cracked along one side from heat damage.
Then he noticed the eyes.
Real eyes.
Human eyes sewn behind the empty mannequin sockets staring directly back at him.
Ryan physically stumbled backward in horror.
The mannequin smiled.
Not much.
Just enough for the cracked plastic mouth to shift slightly beneath the firelight.
Claire screamed.
Instantly every mannequin around the clearing turned their heads toward the sound.
Plastic necks creaked softly through the darkness while dozens of blank pale faces slowly rotated toward the group at exactly the same time.
The bonfire suddenly roared higher.
Orange light exploded across the clearing as the mannequins began moving.
Not walking.
Watching.
Each one slowly adjusting position between the trees while keeping their eyes fixed directly on Ryan, Claire, and Mason.
Then the whistle echoed again.
This time—
from inside the bonfire itself.