Archive for January, 2006

January 31, 2006

I fall. As I fall I continue to scream. I fall backwards, and I think, “I’m going to die when I hit the floor.”
I don’t hit the floor. I hit something softer and hairier. Something with sharp teeth. It bites down firmly on my ear and I’m flung back and forth vigorously. I cannot see what it is that is shaking me like a stuffed-toy. There is a blur of white and a glow of orange. I feel a sense of nausea as my consciousness fades.

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ear hard spinning eye floor world breathing demon teeth heavy aching sharp growling glow

Nothing.

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4. Falling

January 31, 2006

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3. Mumphred

January 29, 2006

It is night now, and we sit around the fire at their camp on the kitchen table. There is a palpable tension, with a plushie on dedicated watch. The other plushies are reluctant to fully turn their backs to the night. They all constantly look out into the darkness, as if expecting something to jump out and tear them to pieces.

The chatter from earlier has died down to an uncomfortable silence, with only the crackling wood keeping the quiet alive. I want to say something to ease the tension, even if I would not be understood, but the pressure to remain quiet is too great. Instead, we all sit with the light from the fire flickering against our faces. Weird shadow and freakish glow, switches our terse expressions on and off.

The lion takes a handful of dust from a pouch at his waste and throws it into the flames. The flames rise up and noxious fumes waft out, making me cough uncontrollably. I glare across the fire at him and say, “Stop that!”
In response he cackles at me, and smiles that idiot grin of his.

As I consider how to deal with this situation a heinous whining noise squeals up from below the table. I jump to my feet and back away from the side of the table. Everyone else is also up, poised to run or fight. The plush on watch creeps to the table-edge and looks over.
The whining noise shifts into a deep growl and a series of fast-paced barks. The noise is painful and high-pitched. I feel my heart beat faster in my hands. There is nowhere to run, but surely the source of that noise cannot reach the table-top. Is that not why the plushies live up in this area?

The plushie on watch steps away from the edge and starts to chant. The others join in.
“Poodull! Poodull! Poodull!”

Thinking that this is the way these natives ward off the evil beast down below, I start chanting too. The chant does not seem to have the desired effect. Rather it seems to be driving the beast into a frenzy, with the noise it makes growing more intense.

I stop chanting and look around, with the intention of trying to quiet the others, only to discover that they have surrounded me. They fix me with cold stares. I try to fight them off, but there are too many. The lion roughly grabs me about the shoulders, mutters gibberish in my face. I kick and flail about, but the lion is too big and too strong. He lifts me from the ground, and dangles me over the edge. I give in to my fate and stop struggling. All the time the others continue to chant. All the time the howling, growling, gnashing, hissing, barking continues below.

Suddenly their frenzy ceases and the beast is quiet. I look directly into the lion’s eyes. I see regret in his pupils, veiled by the fiery orange and yellow reflections. He inhales through his nostrils and blows coloured dust into my face. I cough and splutter.

He casts me into the abyss.

2. Mumphred

January 27, 2006

After wandering for only a short while in the dark, I found a group of plushies. Thankfully I will not have to live by myself.

They live high up on the tables and benches. I would never have found them if one of them had not called to me from above as I walked passed.

They are three teddies, a dog, and a lion who wears a safari hat. I can understand almost nothing of what they say as their language is very unusual.
Despite this, I tried to find out whether any children lived around here. All they say in response is, “Poodull!”

It is clearly something that bothers them, but I can’t understand what it is and I cannot tell whether it really exists or not. They do seem a superstitious bunch. At least they have been kind to me, and I’m sure that soon I will learn their tongue.

I sit down on top of the table and look out over the terrain as the sun sets. The view from up here is magnificent. My greatest fear is that there are children in this place, but with each day that passes the likelihood of their existence diminishes. If there truly are no children here, then surely I have found Plush Toy Paradise.

My New Friends
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1. Mumphred

January 25, 2006

The door slams shut behind me. I back up against it and peer into the darkness, waiting for my eyes to adjust. Waiting to be able to see something. Anything.

I feel uneasy about this place where fate has brought me. The air is still. Stagnant. Quiet, but not dead-quiet. I think I hear something out there. Something breathing gently. But I cannot see it, and I can’t tell whether it is really gentle, or just waiting.

Perhaps there is nothing there, and my imagination is simply running riot — conjuring up demons that do not exist. I cannot hear breathing anymore, and my eyes are now accustomed to the dark conditions. I can make our the faint outlines of furniture and ornaments. There is nothing threatening here.

I decide to explore this new environment that I find myself in. I know in my heart that there will be no return to the toy shop. The humans have brought me here for whatever reason, and I must reconcile myself with my new life. It will be different to the department store, but there is no reason why things should go badly in this place, my new home.
The toy shop was certainly no paradise — children constantly touching and throwing me about, before their parents would make them stop. I count my blessings that I have neither seen nor heard any signs of children in this new home. I feel greatly optimistic about the days to come.
My heart swells in anticipation, for there is nothing to fear. I step forth into the gloom.