Kelsie groaned to herself as she looked to the blank faces before her register, a sea of incoming entitlement and abuse. The holidays were hell for a retail worker, and yet she'd somehow chosen this job to eat up her last vacation before senior year of college.
Still, at least the time went quickly, and even though none of it was particularly enjoyable, she was finally down to her last customer of the day, a man dressed as Father Christmas.
"Next in line?" She called, rolling her eyes as a man dressed as the fake Santa approached.
"Ho ho ho!" He boomed, placing a little remote-controlled robot from the new Star Wars movie before her. "Don't worry about giving me a bag-I have my own!" His eyes twinkled behind his glasses as he spoke, and Kelsie couldn't help but mentally retch.
She scanned the toy and gave it back to him, fixing him with the deadpan look she'd come to wear while at this miserable job. "And tell me... Why does Santa need to buy something from our store? Couldn't he just have his elves make it for him?"
The old man's eyes sparkled as though he'd anticipated her question, and Kelsie immediately regretted asking it. "Why, my dear! That would be a flagrant misuse of my power! Though besides that... I'm right here, there's no need to talk to me in the third person!"
He boomed again with laughter, and Kelsie felt only disgust in her heart as she looked to him with a scowl. "Bah humbug." She said emphatically, keeping her tongue held otherwise. As bad as this job was, she did still need it...
The man gave her a funny look, the first expression he'd made to her that wasn't an overwhelmingly happy smile. "Say... You don't like the holidays very much, do you?" He asked, tossing the toy into his bag as she printed out his receipt.
"Not really. Trust me, when you're on this end of the counter, they become a lot less happy, and a lot more horrid." Kelsie admitted with a sigh. "Now if you wouldn't mind, it's closing time, and I really need to re-floor all of the crap that our customers decided they didn't want to buy."
She clicked off the light above her register and turned for the full re-floor cart behind herself, only to freeze as the man tapped on her shoulder.
She bit back the urge to snap at him and instead turned slowly, plastering a fake smile on her face. "Unless, that is, there's anything I could do to serve you?" She forced out, hating that he was eating up more time between now and her being free of work for the day.
"Only this." He held up a small and golden key in his hand, giving it to her. "I'm sure you're not supposed to accept gifts, but I insist. This is something special, just for you."
Kelsie looked down to the key in surprise, marvelling at how detailed it was. There was fine etching across it and no trace of mold lines, making it look like something that was more designed for jewelry than any real use.
She looked up to ask him what the key was to, but the man had strangely vanished, leaving her alone with just the trinket and her thoughts. "Huh." She said, slipping it into her pocket as she grabbed her re-floor cart, pushing it back towards the aisles that needed restocking. "Well, at least I can sell this for something, maybe get myself a nice Christmas gift..."
That said, it looked like Christmas would be a long time in coming. Her first re-floor aisle was covered in products that belonged in other parts of the store, indecisive customers dropping things off in spots where they clearly shouldn't be. Her second was little better, and by her third the poor girl was trudging along robotically, hoping that the rest of the store's crew was able to get their work done.
On an impulse, she dipped her fingers into her pocket to grab the key, pulling it out with a small smile. At least some good had come of today...
Just looking at the little golden trinket somehow wound her gears in all the right places, and Kelsie looked up to the aisles with renewed vigor. That's right! It was Christmas! How could she possibly feel down during such a happy time of year?
She trotted with a grin to her fourth aisle, tidying things up quickly and neatly, and by her fifth aisle her grin had become a wide smile on her face. This wasn't so bad! She could really do it! It was a Christmas miracle!
And indeed, on her sixth aisle, something miraculous indeed began to happen. Her work t-shirt straightened along with her pants, as though they'd been ironed; and her uncomfortable shoes became a pair of well-fitting boots.
Kelsie didn't so much as notice, instead re-flooring her wares with that same silly grin on her face. Her footsteps began to click loudly against the ground as though she was marching, and the girl grinned with pleasure.
The ninth aisle brought with it more changes, her khakis becoming a startlingly bright white, and her red shirt lengthening to cover her arms like a jacket. Small buttons formed in neat little rows as she marched and straightened, a faint blush forming along her cheeks.
By the tenth aisle, her cheeks shone a rosy red, and her movements were robotic once more-though this time with efficiency rather than exhaustion. Not a motion was wasted as she straightened the toys and sorted the goods. Red stripes raced down her white pants as she marched, and black cuffs banded their way along her wrists.
The eleventh aisle held a surprise for Kelsie: a toy soldier's cap that she knew they didn't sell in her store. It didn't belong in her cart, so she fixed it upon her head, beaming at the realization that it was a perfect fit. She gave a mock-salute to the toys that lined this aisle and blushed harder with an amused pleasure. For once, she was really starting to enjoy this!
The girl kept the key in her hand as she moved to her twelfth and final aisle, a pair of white bands crisscrossing over her jacket, giving her the outfit of a traditional toy soldier. Again, she didn't notice, too fixated on making sure her job was one well-done.
Finally, her day came to an end, and Kelsie turned on her heel, intent on pushing her cart out to the store's entrance. But as her boots clicked together, something finally clicked in her brain, and the cashier realized that something was very, very awry.
She looked down to her chest in surprise to find that she was somehow dressed as a toy soldier, and the girl began to panic. She turned to the front of the store and began to march, hoping that there would be someone who could help her.
Then she realized that she was marching, and Kelsie whimpered, trying to break herself from the rhythmic step. Her every effort was met with failure, and she hiccuped in distress, wishing she could move faster.
"This can't be happening to me!" She squeaked, shivering as a cold feeling swept across her skin. She still had no idea what 'this' was, save that 'this' was something very out of the ordinary indeed, and thus must naturally be terrifying.
She kept marching ahead, but no matter how fast she moved, it looked like she wasn't making any progress. The girl looked to her left in a blind panic, trying to read the aisle number to see how close she was to salvation.
But, much to her horror and dread alike, the number loomed above her head, far higher than it should have been. In fact, everything looked higher than it should be, and bigger too! Her chest clenched as she realized she must be shrinking, and Kelsie began to march once more, hating the click of her boots against the ground.
"Please! Someone has to help Toysie! Toysie is really scared!" She stammered, not noticing her lapse in speech. It was natural for her to refer to herself in the third person, after all... And besides that, Toysie was her name, wasn't it?
No, that didn't sound quite right... She was... She was Toy, that was right! "Please, can someone help Toy?" She called out, hoping that someone would acknowledge her now that she was referring to herself properly.
No such luck, and that creeping cold feeling continued along her body, making her feel so stiff and hard. She whimpered with dread and held a little tighter to the key in her hand, looking down to it only to gawp at its size.
Before it had been as large as one of her fingers, but now... Now it was at least as large as her whole arm!
Looking at the key seemed to spark some new change in the girl, and she shuddered as another wave of cold forced her to stand at attention, just like a soldier. Her arms snapped to her sides and her heels clicked together, and she trembled mutely as her whole body began to feel very, very cold.
"Please. Toy. Needs. Help." She managed through stiffening lips, though only silence greeted her call. The key fell to the ground beside her as her hands straightened, and her eyes began to glass over as a strangely warm feeling bloomed in her heart.
Wait... What was she talking about? Why did she need help? Everything was perfectly fine as it was, wasn't it? Toy was a toy, and she was standing... Oh! That's what was wrong! Toy was a marching toy, and she was standing!
Her smile froze on her face as the last of her skin became a glossy hard plastic, and she stiffly began to march ahead, her clothes fusing into her plastic skin; becoming the paint that covered her.
Toy marched ahead numbly, a dumb warmth filling her head and erasing almost everything that remained of the woman she'd been. This was right, and how it should be. She was a marching toy, and had to march until she wound down.
She clicked her way forward even as her eyes became just paint; her cheeks and rosy-red lips following suit. That was fine, and that was how it should be. Toy was a toy, and always had been.
So immersed was the little plaything in what passed for her thoughts that she missed the boot in front of her, bumping into it and falling on her backside with a quiet clack. She didn't stop marching, though; her legs still waving in the air and her arms gently moving as though she was still on the ground.
A jolly old bearded man stood before her, a sight that she knew she should recognize; but couldn't quite place. Thinking was hard for Toy now... Marching was hard... Everything... Was... Winding...
The old man picked her up in one hand, taking a step forwards to pick up her key in his other hand. "Well now, I think you look much more festive!" He cheered, the words falling on the deaf ears of an unwound toy.
He chuckled; then gently placed the key against her back, smiling as she formed a slot just right for it. The golden key slipped into this with ease, and a flood of warmth and energy filled Toy once more.
Without so much as needing to be wound, she began to march again; even throwing in a salute with every other step.
"There we go!" The man cheered, looking down to the little toy soldier with delight. "My shop could use another perpetually marching soldier; the elves do love it so!"
At the words 'perpetually marching', some distant part of Toy's mind began to awaken, a trace of a cashier named Kelsie. For just one moment, fear flooded her brain, fear of her future.
What was happening? She was a person named Kelsie! She wasn't some toy that marched and saluted and marched and saluted and marched. And saluted. And marched. And saluted. March. Salute. March. Salute.
As quickly as they had come, the terrified thoughts vanished, leaving a blank canvas behind, an innocence that matched the winter wonderland that would soon be her new home. All she was and all she ever would be was a toy, marching endlessly through Santa's workshop.