Rain drummed softly against the window, a rhythmic lullaby that should have eased me to sleep. But the noise wasn't comforting tonight. Somewhere in the living room, a noise woke me up.
I was scared to go to the living room and check it out, and a thought popped up in my mind: "If I had a husband, he would have been the one to check it out." A small, evil giggle escaped my lips. But reality hit—I had to see what was going on.
It was exactly like one of those horror movies where the person walks toward danger instead of running away. But something… inexplicable… compelled me forward. It was like my destiny to go… sounds so damn dramatic but whatever.
I took a deep breath, mustering all the courage I had, and swung my legs out of bed. My bare feet barely made a sound on the wooden floor as I padded toward the living room. The hallway was dimly lit, the soft patter of rain against the windows mixing with the faint creak of the floorboards. Each step felt slower than the last, my mind replaying every horror movie scene I had ever watched. I told myself to stay calm, but my chest tightened and my stomach knotted with nervous anticipation.
When I stepped into the living room, my eyes widened. The room was usually a comforting little bubble, but tonight, it felt… strange. Plushies of every size were scattered on the sofa and shelves, their stitched eyes staring blankly into the shadows. Cute little cushions, pastel blankets, and tiny trinkets cluttered the space in the most endearing way—normally a scene that would make me smile. But tonight, the shadows made everything look different, as if the cute objects were holding secrets of their own.
The shelves were lined with small figurines and cute plants, and a tiny lamp in the corner cast a warm, golden glow across the room. Even with the rain and the strange noise, the room still held that soft, cozy charm that made it feel like home. And yet… the sound had come from here. Somewhere among the cute, harmless chaos, something was moving.
I froze mid-step, stomach twisting. The sound was coming from one of the shelves. My gaze landed on Cupcake—my first plushie, the one I had bought with my very first salary, the one I had hugged every night when I first moved in. Normally harmless and cute, it now sat awkwardly on the edge of the shelf, its stitched eyes glinting unnaturally in the dim light. The plushie… had moved.
My stomach twisted even more. No matter how many times I told myself it was just the shadows or my imagination, seeing that little figure shift made my heart race.
I took a shaky step forward, my hands trembling. The little plushie tilted slightly, like it was watching me. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest.
"KYAAA!" I screamed, the sound tearing through the apartment and mixing with the rain and thunder outside. The plushie stayed still, but the shadows seemed to stretch closer, like they were reacting to me.
I stumbled back, my chest heaving, eyes wide with terror.The little plushie's stitched eyes stared back at me,cute and harmless… yet somehow unsettling in the dim light.My hands shook as I tried to process what was happening. Then, in a voice small and oddly calm, unsettlingly calm, it spoke:
"Mom… stop screaming."