The mannequin
His dark silhouette contrasted against the sunset, and his shadow spread on the floor with both magnificence and oddity.
I fell on my back, prey of both fear and surprise, and for a second, we stared at each other in silence. At first, I was shocked by his unnaturally pale face, and desperately tried to spot his eyes.
I was horrified to discover that he had no eyes, nor signs of ever having them before… he had no mouth nor ears neither, just a white marble face shining sadly under the afternoon sun.
A top hat stood high above his head, and a few withered plants came out of it, giving him an even grimmer look.
He wore a thick fur coat, which looked as ancient as everything else on him. It was open over his chest, and I could see a big golden clock that seemed to be the only thing that kept the head on place, connected to it by some kind of metallic tube.
The rest of his body was a stack of weird things, held together by a force I couldn't identify.
There was wood, metal, some leather I guess, and things that may have been alive a long time ago. All this mess stood on a single wooden leg, with no joints, and a round stone base instead of a foot.
His arms were long and thin, and hung down, moving gently from side to side. The whole picture depicted sadness and loneliness, and I almost felt sorry for the awful mannequin, or whatever it was.
I got back on my feet and resumed my breathing. The air was hot, and I felt as if I was burning from the inside, thirsty, tired, and completely lost.
I took a closer look to the window behind the mannequin. The outside felt unrealistic, like it had been torn out from an old book. The only thing I could see besides the shattered prairie that stretched to the horizon was a leafless tree. Everything was quiet and colorless, only relieved by the light of the setting sun that slipped through the window, filling the room with oddly shaped shadows.
I had encountered a few windows before on the maze, all of them locked, and no matter how hard I tried to break them open, they just wouldn't give up, and of course, I didn't have much hope that this one would be any different, but it was the only reasonable thing to try in a so unreasonable place.
The mannequin became bigger and more threatening with every step I took, piercing his inexistent eyes in my forehead. If it had had a mouth, I was sure it would be smiling perversely. I walked past him, and stood in front of the window. We were back to back now, and I swear I could hear his light breathing.
I pulled the window with my biggest effort, but as I feared, it remained steady. I hit the glass a couple of times with my fists, but even though it looked fragile to my eyes, it was hard as iron to my hands, resisting the blows with no scratches or cracks. Whoever had put it there didn't mean it to be open, or at least not by pure brute force.
My hopeless whisper soared through the air as I lowered my head. My arms were still stiff after pulling so hard, and my mind was spinning due to confusion and hunger. It had probably been hours since I woke up in the maze, cold and dizzy, and even if tried with all my wit to remember how I got there, everything I could think of was a black mess of faces, voices and faint sounds.
I had almost forgotten about the mannequin when something soft touched my shoulder. I swiftly turned and jumped. My back hit the wall, and my knees failed for a second, leaving me with no options other than to grab the window to get some balance.
In front of me, the mannequin stood, crooked upon me, with one of his arms stretched towards my face. Within his wooden fingers laid a withered flower, barely holding up, fragile and lacking fragrance.