Gwendy Warfare Begins

Alan watched slacked jawed as the dolls all glowed with a patch of green somewhere on them. But unknown to the teen, they weren't the only ones glowing, as the command activated the Gwendies in the stack of cardboard boxes.

"Alright, let go with this one," he said deciding to try an advertised feature on the card. "Fall-in," he shouted and waited to watch the dolls.

And they did not disappoint. As the word was spoken, all three started to struggle against their twist-off restrains. The first to come off was the redhead's, slamming against the wall of her container.

"Well that wasn't--" Alan's thought was interrupted by the store's dolly falling on its side. "Oh, crap!" was all he could say, watching the boxes fall out. "I hope they aren't damaged or anything."

Walking to inspect the damage, it looked like two boxes were empty and flattened. "What?" Rushing to the pile of boxes, Alan looked wide-eyed at what looked to be five empty boxes with their accessories gone with the dolls as well.

Hoping he didn't get lured into a scam, he searched the floor for the toys. First, under the table, where he was conducting his experiments with the dolls. Nothing but the three boxes from the ones on the table.

Still sitting on the floor, Alan swiveled his head to look for any more places they could have got stuck under. Spotting his father's project bench, he saw it was on wheels, creating space for things to slide under.

Crawling, the boy didn't think of how the toys could have slid under something so far, he was merely concerned with retrieving the five out of seventy-two dolls.

Peeking under the workstation, he saw a shadow with a green LED lit up. "One down, four to go," he said reaching out for it.

Not even second after gripping the doll, Alan heard an audible "click" around his wrist. Already in a panic, Alan tried to retract his hand, but it was being dragged to a leg for the station.

With another click, Alan tugged again, slamming his face to the mobile workbench. As his confusion reached a climax as to how was happening, there was a sudden weight on Alan's shoulder. "Submit or die," a female voice with a slight New Yorker accent ordered. Turning his head, Alan was cut on his cheek from Cadet Kinky's knife.

Not only did he see who was the assailant was, he also got a better scoop on what was happening. Above him and the doll already on him was another, Nikki Sparks, scaling down the desk with a piece of twine from a model boat his dad was working on. Jumping the rest of the way down, the doll in the green jumpsuit land on his other shoulder and quipped, "Resisting us is so five minutes ago."

He moved his head back from the Nikki Sparks doll, only for the Cadet to poke her knife into the pressure point behind his ear, making him flinch and pull away from her in turn. As he leaned the opposite way, Nikki grabbed his ear and pressed an exact-o knife against his cheek. He batted back and forth between the dolls' weapons, unconsciously sliding mostly onto his back before composing himself, breathing shakily as each doll grabbed an ear and leveled their blades under his jaw, forcing him still.

"That's it, sugar," Nikki cooed, "Just hold still and we'll take real good care of you."

His eyes taking a quick glance around, Alan found the other three that weren't in their packaging: they were helping the first three out their own boxes. He spotted another Cadet Kinky striding up beside him. "Enemy subdued, Major Luger," she said to the mirrored Majors, showing the boy ob his back, handcuffed to the desk, a Gwendy on each shoulder. "Awaiting new orders."

"He might be trouble," one Major said while the other climbed down the table leg. "Prep him for interrogation," she ordered as she strutted to the collapsed dolly. With unreasonable strength, she pushed the open box on its side and stood in front of it, and commanded, "Ten-hut!" Much to Alan's horror, the next layer of dolls, and even the ones on the floor, lit green. A pit grew in his stomach as the doll went on, "Gwendy Elite, fall in!"

They all began bursting from their boxes, including the three he hadn’t unboxed yet: Cassie Kaboom, a black woman with dynamite strapped to her legs and arms over her tan fatigues, Bright Eyes, a ponytailed Asian woman with a compound bow, and Rosa Thorn, a bronze-skinned melee fighter in a red crop top, shorts and Rambo-like bandana.

The Nikki on Alan's shoulder spoke again, "You know, commands are like clothes and makeup. Put them in the wrong order, and a disaster can happen."

No hands were idle. Two dolls were keeping Alan in check, one Major was activating more, two others helping unpack them and giving out assignments. The Cassies helped the Nikkis rummage through tool chests and junk drawers for supplies, the Bright Eyes's raided boxes of metal pins to trade out their plastic arrows, and the Thorns either scouted the workshop or climbed the desks for a better vantage point.

And quite a few were scrolling towards Alan with whips, knives and nails.

"Looks like you met your match," another jumpsuit doll joked, aiming a handheld torch at Alan's face with the help of two others.

"Submit or die," the Cadet growled again into Alan's ear.

"I-I submit," The boy said, as he was defenseless to the dolls' against attacks. This seemed to make the aggressive toys relax a bit, backing off a foot or so, besides one Nikki, who stuffed his mouth with a needle cushion. "Solely for security purposes," she said with a wide smile.

Must not want me saying any commands...but I don't even have the card anymore! Alan thought to himself. But after she literally skipped away, it seemed to get dim. Looking up Alan saw the desk lamp turned off, and shadows of feminine figures walking away from the ledge.

"Seems we don't have the same definition of security," the Cadet on his shoulder said in her first quip. With a questioning look, Alan turned his head and was met with a squad of six Cadets wielding lengths of twine, cable, and even a roll of tape and tube modeling glue.