Full Body Chills - It's Never Just a Mannequin

Episode Date: November 1, 2019

If you're a Crime Junkie you already know... It's never just a mannequin.It's Never Just A Mannequinwritten by: David FlowersYou can read the original story at FullBodyChillsPodcast.comThis episode is brought to you by Simplisafe, to learn more check out simplisafe.com/fbc Looking for more chills? Follow Full Body Chills on Instagram @fullbodychillspod. Full Body Chills is an audiochuck production. Instagram: @audiochuckTwitter: @audiochuckFacebook: /audiochuckllcTikTok: @audiochuck 

Hi listeners, this is Ashley Flowers, and I want to tell you one last story. A story that will reinforce something we say on our other podcast, Crime Junkie, all the time. It's never just a mannequin. So gather around and listen close. I guess I should start with a disclaimer. I'm a huge crime junkie, both in the sense that I love true crime and in that I listen to the podcast Crime Junkie. Along with my best friend Taylor, I have practically drowned my life in crime documentaries, shows like Dateline, 48 Hours, serial killer books, missing person cases, you name it. So when I tell you I've quite literally dreamed of finding a body that solves some like 30-year-old cold case, I hope it sounds less bizarre given my background. So now that that's out of the way, I guess I should tell

you the real reason I'm telling you this story. Like I said, I listen to Crime Junkie a lot, and I mean a lot. Besides just listening to the regular weekly episodes, Taylor and I have binged all of the fan club episodes, we're proud owners of some CJ merch, and we've adopted numerous Crime Junkie phrases into our day-to-day language. Now, one motto they've repeated on numerous occasions is, it's never a mannequin. It's meant to say that when someone stumbles upon a dead body, they usually mistake it for a mannequin at first before they realize it's actually human. However, given some recent events in my life,

I'm wondering if there's another meaning entirely. So I'm coming back from a summer camp where I'm a counselor for some middle school kids, and I'm driving completely alone. And to give you some perspective, this camp was like two hours away from my hometown. And to get there, you have to take this hardly used interstate along with a couple of back end roads, all while you're just completely surrounded by forests and hills, just trees as far as the eye can see. So I'm just driving along. It's pretty early in the morning. I left the camp around like eight o'clock and I knew I had about an hour drive ahead of me. So I'm flipping through the radio when I realized that it

was Monday and I hadn't listened to the most recent Crime Junkie episode, so you can probably guess what I had playing on in the background. Now, I'm nearly finished with the episode when I caught something off to the side of the road, and I'm going pretty fast, so I didn't get a totally clear look at it, but I don't know, it sort of, it sort of shined a little bit. And I say that because a car bumper doesn't really shine. And while wheels might, this thing looked, I don't know, the color was like kind of peach. Now I told you before, I have always thought a lot about what it would be like to find a body. So when you're as invested in that idea as I am, you almost find yourself actively looking for it all the time.

If you do this long enough, everything starts to look like it could be a body, a trash bag floating down the river, some cardboard stuck in a bush, and this peach colored thing off to the side of the road that somewhat shines. So I slowed down the car and my mind is just racing. I eventually stopped altogether and looked for a spot where I could easily make a U-turn. Driving back, I was frantically searching for whatever it was that caught my eye. My eyes at this point are glued to the other lane, like where the ditch is, so it's a good thing that no one's really on this road or I probably would have hit somebody. And then I saw it. It was definitely peach. I could tell that for sure, but I could see some

other colors now too. It looked like a bright pink. So I find this area to pull over and I put on my hazard lights. I carefully cross the road where I get a clear view of my target. It was down the ditch at the edge of the woods and my heart just stopped. That pink thing I saw was now looking more like a t-shirt. And wearing that t-shirt was a peach-colored body. My adrenaline was rushing. And what I'm sure was only a few seconds of me standing on the side of the road felt like minutes. I was just petrified. But that soon passed. It took some time for my brain to register it. But the body that I was looking at didn't quite look like a normal body. It took some time for my brain to register it, but the body that I was looking at

didn't quite look like a normal body. It was too rigid and the limbs were bent at weird angles. And just as I had seen driving by, it was kind of shiny. I wasn't making that up. And if anything, it looked more like a mannequin. Silently, alarm bells start ringing through my brain because if my addiction to true crime has taught me anything, it's that it's never just a mannequin. But as I approached closer, I could make out lines separating the joints. And though it was flat on its stomach, I could see no ears. It really was just a mannequin. And once I was absolutely sure of what I was seeing, I turned the mannequin over on its side.

This close, I saw that the mannequin had no facial features, which isn't that surprising. What was surprising is that for the most part, the mannequin looked almost brand new. Granted, there were some scuffs and dirt streaks all over, but the dim sunlight shining off the plastic told me this thing hadn't been used much. Its clothes, on the other hand, were ruined and torn, covered in these tears and stained with mud. Like the whole outfit didn't really make sense to me.

On its torso was the pink shirt that I saw, but it had this Hello Kitty logo on the front. And the only other clothing on the mannequin was some underwear that was equally torn and covered in filth, which is kind of an odd fashion statement to say the least, but especially for a mannequin that appeared to be modeled after a full-grown woman.

My biggest question though, aside from what this mannequin was wearing, was how did it get here? I mean, my first thought was that someone ditched it. I've seen people drop off old furniture on the side of the road before, so maybe someone just tossed this out. But what an odd place to get rid of a mannequin. Like who would drive all the way out here if all they wanted to do was dump some trash? My second thought was maybe it fell off of a moving truck and that would explain the scuffs

and the dirt. And more to prove this theory, around the mannequin, I found an exposed line of mud cutting through the grass. So in my mind, I figured the mannequin could have like fallen off the truck, tumbled, and maybe like impacted and land in the dirt right here. And this is going to sound so stupid, but I like gave myself a little pat on the back. Like now the mystery of the mannequin was solved. And no lie, I had like floods of Nancy Drew nostalgia wash over me. But then I was kind of left wondering like, like what do I do now? And embarrassed that I wasted so much time

on this beat up mannequin, I started back towards my car. But then I got this idea. And listen, I get that hindsight's 20, and knowing what I know now, this had to be the worst idea I've ever had. But I decided to take the mannequin with me. I picked it up beneath its arms and began carrying it back to my car. I know you're thinking like, who the hell would take a dirty mannequin off the side of the road? But hear me out.

Remember my best friend Taylor? She is as big of a crime junkie as I am. And I got it in my mind that if I would turn around my car to check something in a ditch, like in a forest, to try and find a dead body or whatever, then how would she react

if this body showed up in her backyard? And I know this maybe is tasteless humor to some of you guys, but for me, I was grinning ear to ear concocting this plan. The mannequin was that kind of model with all of the adjustable joints, so it was super easy to fold in all of the arms and the legs. Once I did, I stashed it safely in the trunk of my SUV. Picking up the thing was actually surprisingly light. I guess I was just expecting something a little bit heavier,

but I got it in my car, got back in, turned back around and continued on my way home. When I got home, the first thing I did after taking my bags in was clean my secret treasure. I hauled the figure into the back where I had a hose and soap ready. And I guess I'm lucky I live alone because explaining exactly how I came to find this mannequin and why I still have it wouldn't make for any kind of conversation where, like, I don't come off as a lunatic. I get it. I begin by removing the clothes that were on the mannequin first. Now the underwear came off pretty easy but the shirt was difficult since this thing had been bent so awkwardly. But of course it wasn't

until after I took scissors to cut it off that I realized I probably could have just removed the arms. Now it must have been in that ditch for a while because the shirt was hard and crusty and like dried with these dark muddy stains. Now that it was bare though I hosed the figure off and it took a little scrubbing in a few places but in no time at all I had it looking shiny and new. I took a towel to dry it off, and once I was satisfied, I brought it inside to store in my basement. It would be a few days before I would see Taylor, the day I strategically planned to spring my trap. My plan went like this. Taylor and I scheduled a little get-together at her place, a kind of welcome-back party after being away for so long watching over a bunch of middle school campers.

We agreed on her place and basically at no time in particular. Well, on that day, I sent her a text that I would be over around 5 o'clock. At 4.30, I text her that I was on my way. Of course, at 4.30, I was already outside her house. I know Taylor, and she's not one to wait by the door. If I had to guess, I would say that she's on her phone in the living room waiting for me to send a message to her saying that I'm outside. And outside I was, hopping over her fence with a full-size doll I dressed in some of my old clothes. Her backyard was pretty average, with a shallow-only pool and one circular poolside table with a large red and white patio umbrella.

I had already planned for where I was going to stash this, quote, body before I got there. I knew that anywhere around the pool would be too obvious, and no doubt she would see it in a second. And while I wanted her to find it, I didn't want it to be so easy that it would quickly be recognized as a mannequin. So I decided to put it in the bushes around her fence. They were kind of like low to the ground,

and while not far hidden from view, they provided just enough cover for the figure so that it couldn't be found without a little bit of effort. So I carefully set my trap, stuffing the mannequin in flat on its stomach. Once I was prepared, I casually text Taylor to meet me at the front door. So she greets me, lets me in, we grab a drink, and we spend some time catching up with each other's drama before moving on to our second round of drinks. And I suggest that since the weather was so nice, we should sit out by the pool. And I'm like struggling at this point to suppress my excitement when Taylor agreed.

But when we got to her backyard, I nearly panicked. The mannequin was sticking out way too much. I could have sworn that I hid it better than that. But its upper body was more than a foot outside of the bush. Luckily, though, Taylor hadn't noticed and remained totally oblivious to my mistake. So sitting at the poolside table, I made sure that we were positioned in such a way that Taylor would be able to see the mannequin hidden in the bush behind me. It took a little mental manipulation to get her head up from her phone. So basically what I did is I showed her a picture,

but I held it up in a way where if I was lucky, she might just glance to the thing hiding behind me. Now for a while, I thought she was never going to notice it at all. She seemed totally oblivious. But in time, I was able to innocently shift her sight to the oddity behind me. And man, I wish I had a camera to catch it all. Her eyebrows furrowed for a second. And then in the next, they were completely wide. She shot up from her chair, screaming. And she was already at her door before I even had a chance to stop her and I was barely able to breathe. I was laughing so hard but after I ran after her and I mean it took some

serious consoling, I was finally able to convince her to come back outside. When we got out, I forced her to reenact her initial discovery of the mannequin and although she didn't share my same enthusiasm at first, once she finally was filled in on the prank, she was laughing right along with me. And as she's laughing, she's telling me like she didn't even have the same reaction I did. She thought it was a burglar. And I was like, why would a burglar be hiding in your bush? And she's like, I don't know. It was a weird angle. But she's like, where did you even get this thing? So I gave her the whole backstory.

And after a few more laughs and even more drinks, we decided we hadn't had enough fun with the mannequin. We took group pictures. We set it up in poses. We even christened her with a name. She was Jessica. With all that said and done, Jessica was fully indoctrinated into our little circle of friendship. Now it was well past midnight when we decided to call it. We made a joke that both of us could carry drunk Jessica to the backseat of my car, where I carefully put her in a seatbelt. I said my goodbyes to Taylor, and I left for home.

There was barely any traffic out this late, so I really felt alone with this mannequin. And even though it wasn't a real person, the silence felt, I don't know, awkward? There were even a few times when I would turn to Jessica and make some sort of one-off comment, either about how she stole my outfit or something stupid like that, I don't know. I would blame the alcohol, but really, it was just my way for me to kill the silence. Though I was too tired for it, I tried putting on some music, but even then, I couldn't shake this anxious feeling. Every now and then, I would look in the rearview mirror and glance at the mannequin's expressionless face, unmoving.

I got home after what felt like hours. Quick to get out of the car, I promptly opened the door to the back seat and reached for the seatbelt across Jessica's frame. When I did, I found that the buckle was already undone. And I tried rationalizing it. I probably was just drunk. Maybe I missed it. I mean, it was dark, so of course I must have missed it. And there were a few bumps. It could have just come loose. I looked at the mannequin at the place where its eyes should be.

Jessica, don't tell me you did this. I was trying to play it off as a joke. Did you? It said nothing. It did nothing. I firmly grasped it by the side and yanked it out of the car. Still leaving all of my clothes on it, I quickly took the mannequin down to my basement and locked the door at the top of the stairs. I don't think I've ever locked my basement door before. I had one last drink before I decided to go to bed.

The next week went by pretty uneventful. I did my work at home. I just write for this blog. I cleaned up around the house. I finally did decide to undress the mannequin and found a corner in the basement where I would store it. Maybe I'll use it for a Halloween party or something in the future. A little after this week of nothing, my sister came to town to drop off my niece and nephew.

She was going to go on a trip for her anniversary, and I had agreed to watch the kids for a few days. It had been almost six months since I'd seen them, and I could tell they were just as excited to see me as I was them. Little five-year-old Annie came out of the car cheering, Auntie Nina, as she jumped into my arms. Now, Nina isn't my real name, but it was a nickname my sister had given me when we were little, and her kids picked up on the habit, and we just never corrected them. Zach, my 12-year-old nephew, tried playing it cool and mature with just like a handshake but I could tell that he was happy to see his aunt and I forced him into a big hug and showed them inside.

My sister and I chatted for a bit before she had to leave to catch her flight, leaving me alone with the kids. I had a mini itinerary planned for our week together. We'd do a trip to the zoo, a movie, you know, all those things that earned you cool ant points from kids. But as it happens so many times, kids always find a way to throw a curveball into your plans. I still had some work to do, so I let the kids loose to pick out their rooms, unpack their bags, and kind of just play around in the house for a bit. At this point, I had completely forgotten about the mannequin in my basement when Annie came up to me asking, Nina, can I play with your dolly?

I said, my dolly? What dolly are you talking about? She said, the big dolly that you have downstairs. Then I realized what Annie was talking about. I didn't see the harm in it at the time. In fact, I thought it was a great idea, a perfect distraction for a little kid. I could only imagine being her age and how cool it would have been to have a life-size toy like that. Oh, I said, you mean Jessica. That's her name, you know. And I could tell that Annie was so excited. Yes, can I play with Jessica? And I said, sure, let's go bring her upstairs. We went into the basement and found Jessica

where I'd hid her the week prior. Her shiny body stood in contrast to the piles of boxes and shelves laid with dust. Annie was jumping with glee as I carefully lifted her up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, Zach saw the mannequin in my arms and seemed genuinely interested in playing with it too. And so I let the kids loose to play with Jessica and their imagination. And for the most part

they seemed to really enjoy themselves. Zach lost interest after a bit but Annie was still having the time of her life. She was playing tea party on the floor. She was wanting to dress her up. Everything a little girl would want to do with a big dolly. It wasn't long before I finished my work and I told the kids that we were going to go out to eat. I reassured Annie saying that once we got back, you can play more with Jessica. Not wanting to leave the mannequin just laying out in my house, I told Annie that we had to make sure we put our toys away when we were done playing with them. So we put Jessica in the basement for now. We weren't out for long. The whole time Annie was just anxious to get back home and play with her new toy. That night she asked if Jessica could

sleep in her room. And I don't, I don't know why, but the memory of that seatbelt around the mannequin came into my head just then. And I told Annie, no. I locked the mannequin in the basement for the night. This was the second time I've ever locked my basement. And thank God I did. That night, I woke up to a noise. I wasn't sure what time it was. The sound was soft, but kind of loud at the same time. At first, I thought it was Zach or Annie, but it clearly wasn't coming from their rooms. So I got up and followed the noise all the way down the hallway, down the stairs to the first floor, and as I descended, the sound was getting louder, but I still couldn't make out what I was hearing. It sounded almost human, but only almost. I listened close. It was coming from the basement. Slowly and nervously, I pressed an ear against the door

and listened. What I heard sounded like muffled screams, like someone had a rag stuffed in their mouth and was trying to yell, or like their lips were sewn shut or sealed, just like a mannequin's. I reached for the handle, and I don't know why. I was terrified and confused. Part of me didn't believe what I was hearing, but as soon as I turned the handle, nothing.

Everything was silent. The tick of the kitchen clock, the only sound to echo in the room. With a creak, I opened the basement door and using the flashlight on my phone, slowly descended the stairs. I only needed to go a few steps to peek down and see across the room the still plastic figure frozen in the corner that I had left it in. I couldn't sleep much that night. That morning, I got up before the kids and searched the basement for any signs of a wild animal. I'm not saying I thought a wild animal made those noises. Hell, I'm still not sure what I heard.

But it's what made the most sense, right? I did find some drippings next to a mouse hole, but nothing else. When the kids were up for breakfast, I told them that they would have to stay out of the basement. And even though it cost me a lot of cool ant points, I told Annie that she couldn't play with Jessica anymore. Teary-eyed, Annie begged and cried and cried and cried. And eventually I just got fed up with it. So I told her to stop. And I made up a lie that I had given Jessica to my friend Taylor because she needed to borrow her for a few days.

Then I quickly tried to fill her head with promises of other cool things that we would get to do. After 15 minutes of crying and a headache later, I finally got her to calm down. We were supposed to go to the park later, but first I had to get some groceries. And while I was out, I was going to buy a few mousetraps. I didn't think it would be an issue to leave the kids back at the house. I was only going to be gone for a few minutes. The store's right down the street. I got back in less than 30 minutes, and when I did, I could hear Zach and Annie playing upstairs.

I put away the groceries and went down to the basement to set the traps. I only made it halfway down the the basement to set the traps. I only made it halfway down the stairs when I immediately saw it. Jessica had been moved. She wasn't standing tucked away in the corner where I had put her. Now she was across the room underneath the window that hung high above Jessica's outstretched arms. At first, I was startled, but then I quickly became furious. My only thought was that Annie had disobeyed me, that while I was gone, she snuck into the basement and had played with Jessica. I yelled for the kids as I was stomping up the stairs,

and I know it seems like a pretty harmless thing to get upset about, and you're probably right, but I mean, with all of the crazy stuff I had to deal with, and then two kids on top of that, and I only gave them one rule, then I leave them alone for less than 30 minutes, and they've already broken it. I called out for Zach and Annie again as I reached the top.

Zach came down the stairs first, and Annie shortly after. Annie, did you play with Jessica when I told you not to? And I must have been pretty loud or looked really angry because Annie looked terrified of me. I could also see confusion on her face, but I wasn't buying it. Well, did you disobey me and go into the basement and play with the mannequin? She shook her head and spoke through soft cries. No, no, you said Jessica wasn't here. That's what you said. She was fully crying now and exhausted. I turned to Zach. Well, did you, Zach? Did you go into the basement after I told you you couldn't? He said, no, I didn't. Then how did Jessica wind up across the room, huh? One of you two had to have done it while I was gone. Zach denied all of it and Annie just cried. I wasn't

going to play these games all day, so I put my foot down. I told them since neither of them would fess up, neither of them were going to get to go to the park. And let me tell you, I do not envy my sister. One kid tantrum is enough to send you insane, but two, well, that's where I was now. No, we didn't go to the park that day. And woohoo for me, more cool ant points lost. And no, neither Zach or Annie ever confessed to moving Jessica. Nothing happened that night. No sound, nothing. The next day, I was feeling pretty guilty about not taking the kids to the park. I mean, they're just kids after all. It's not like what they did was even that serious.

More than anything, I didn't want to waste the little time we had together punishing them. So that day, we did a big outing. We did all the cool stuff I promised and more. The park, arcade, pizza, the whole deal. By the time we got home, the kids were all smiles and everything was back to normal. Well, almost normal. I hadn't even stepped inside the house when I noticed a smell. At first, I thought maybe it was a skunk. I just stood there dumbfounded. How in the world did a skunk get inside my house?

But then my mind immediately went to the basement. I entered inside to a foul odor. It definitely was not a skunk. If anything, it smelled like roadkill, rotten meat that's been left out for days. I unlocked and opened the basement door. A wave of revulsion spilling over me. There's no way something living could make that smell. And then I wondered maybe the mousetrap killed some, but it reeked of rancid decay and the stink was so pungent I couldn't imagine anything smaller than

a cat collecting such a stench. I was about to go grab kitchen gloves in preparation for removing whatever horrible thing was stinking up the house when I heard something. It sounded like scratching and it was coming from the basement. Ignoring the gloves, I decided to investigate. The kids were behind me. They both were clenching their noses because of the smell and I told them to go up to their rooms. I told them that there was an animal downstairs and I didn't want them to get hurt. They must have known that I was lying because I could see the fear reflected in their eyes. My fear. They obeyed and ran upstairs. As I descended

down the dimly lit steps, with each step the smell grew stronger and the scratching even louder and louder and louder. As I came halfway down, the whole basement came into view. There, beneath the windowsill and beneath the hundreds of claw marks cut into the concrete wall, stood the mannequin, arms stretched above its head into the stone. If not for my frantic shaking, I would have been just as paralyzed as that plastic figure. Building up the courage, I continued the final steps down the stairs,

never once taking my eyes off the mannequin, not even to blink. I remained fixated. At the bottom, I carefully crept closer. I suddenly gagged and my eyes welled up with tears as I was now overcome by the horrific stench that poured from the mannequin. My focus completely abandoned at this point. I now noticed the chalky concrete dust that layered the mannequin. My focus completely abandoned at this point. I now notice the chalky concrete dust

that layered the mannequin's hands and the feral slashings on the wall at the perfect height to meet them. I'd like to say I'm willing to try reason in place of paranormal absurdities, but this, this was too far. There is no way someone else did this. The house was locked and I know what I just heard. I know what I'm now smelling, this god awful smell. I quickly decided I needed to find a trash bag, one of those really large ones that you use for leaves and crap, whatever, and I threw the mannequin inside. I had to fold all of its joints, and I don't know why, but it's never been this hard to bend before.

I finally get it inside the bag, and then I double bag it, triple bag it, just to be sure. I heave the bag up the stairs, but I swear it has never been so heavy. I throw the bag in the trunk because there is no way I'm having this thing anywhere near my house. I run inside up to the kids' rooms and I let them know that I have to get rid of this dead animal that I found and I'm going to be right back. Back in the car, I don't even hesitate before turning on the ignition switch and driving away. I wasn't even sure where I was going, but all I knew was that I needed to be as far away from this thing as possible. And I couldn't just drop it off at a dump site. There's usually someone on shift there and I didn't want to be stopped. I

can't be stopped to explain this stuff to someone. Right now, I just needed this thing gone. While I'm driving in this mad craze, something catches my eye in the rearview mirror. Something moving. And then I hear what sounds like a trash bag. The trash bag. My eyes are wide with tear as I witness the bag bend and pulse behind me. There's only one place far enough away,

one place where no one ever goes. I make the sharp turn and floor the gas, heading in the same direction as where I would for summer camp. The whole way I can see the bag rising and falling as we get closer to our destination, and the convulsions grow more and more aggressive. I'm almost five minutes away and the rolling has turned into violent struggling and I start to hear screams. Those muffled screams that cry out and become so intense that I can't even hear the running engine of

the car or even the radio that I have on full blast just to drown those damn screams. We finally get there and it's dark so I can't see where exactly is there but I know it's close enough. I quickly pull the car over to one side of the highway and scramble out the door. Leaving the engine still going, I rush to the trunk. The banging and cries force me to pause for a single moment before I throw the trunk open and grapple with the trash bag. I feel hearts shifting and squirming as I haul the thing down the ditch where I found it. I go a few feet into the tree line before I toss the thing into the darkness. I'm standing over feet into the tree line before I toss the thing into the darkness.

I'm standing over the bag and turn to run back to the car when I fall face first into the dirt. Under layers of plastic bags, something grabs hold of my ankle. I audibly scream and frantically kick, but this thing is stuck on me. My hands are wildly searching for something, anything to hold onto, and I keep grappling around until I find what feels like a large rock. Struggling with both hands, I lift the rock over my head and bring it crashing down on the bag. I hear it scream and its grip loosens a bit, but I hit it again and again. Even after it's let go of my leg, I still hit it, bringing the hard, heavy rock

to crush whatever thing writhed inside that trash bag. At exhaustion, I dropped the stone and started to breathe in heavy gasps. From the bag, I saw no movement, but heard under muffled tones a pathetic, wet, choking noise. I stumbled my way back to the car and drove away without a second glance. Three weeks had passed since that day. My sister had come back from her vacation only a few days after that night and took the kids back home. I never told her what happened. I never told anyone what happened. But after the kids were gone, I could rest easy knowing that they were far away from here. I was restless for a week, waiting for something to happen, listening for a scream, looking out my window for a half-mangled plastic human to come stumbling back into my house. But nothing did happen. I considered driving back to that spot, that place where I left it, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. And as of yesterday,

I know I never will. Because yesterday, I was watching the news when they were covering a police press conference. It was supposed to be a break in some cold case from like 17 years ago. The police said they had connected numerous disappearances to the same case and recently they received an anonymous tip to the location of the killer's dumping grounds. However, when the local law enforcement followed this lead, what they found instead was that the killer had statistically arranged piles of mannequins dressed in the victim's last known clothing. Because of this, the news media had come up with the name mannequin killer. The news feed ended noting a report made by the police that while several

victims had been connected to the case by their clothing found at this mannequin grave, there was no match to a recent girl who went missing just three months prior. They featured a picture of this girl on the news feed. She looked young, younger than 15. She was blonde, white, and had beautiful green eyes. And on her vibrant pink shirt was a familiar Hello Kitty logo. When I looked back on how I found that mannequin, traveling on that abandoned interstate outside the forest surrounding the mannequin killer's dumping ground, I would think about how odd those dirt marks looked, how it didn't quite make sense that a mannequin could fall off a truck and leave a trail in the mud away from the road.

But now I know. It didn't fall off any truck. Those marks were made by the mannequin as it crawled out of the forest. To be continued... If you have a creepy story that you'd like featured on the show next season, you can email it to fullbodychills at audiochuck.com. And while you're waiting for next Halloween to roll around, don't forget to check out our other podcast, Crime Junkie, which has new episodes out every Monday. Thanks for listening and happy Halloween. Full Body Chills is an audio Chuck production. So what do you think, Chuck? Do you approve?