Mouth Full of Cotton

Chapter One: Awakening [MARK WHITE]

As of recently, I’ve been told about a unique artist by one of my friends. How recently? Well, it isn't like I remember anymore, it’s all vague, all… blurred. But this isn't like a canvas-paint, oil-paint… any type of artist like that. They're a plush artist, making special plushies, but as of late, these hearings of the artist, along with the disappearance of bodies have increased. It was all over the news, I remember, missing posters, broadcasts, even on the radio every so often, but in the absence of the dead bodies, there would only be blood in their place, accompanied by a few fluffs of cotton, a thread or two, but that would be it. This isn't like Coraline, this is something different.

I don't believe in these tales, though. I've gotten into many accidents, and I'm fine, nothing’s changed about me.

I don't look in mirrors a lot though, I hate mirrors… But after those new cuts I've made, I feel different. I feel fuzzy… but, no. It can't be true, can it?
I still would rather not look at myself, who knows what I could be. I probably can't do it either, my body feels weak, frail. It's been days, no food or water, I feel fine in that aspect, though… weirdly full. The more I think about it, the more I really, really don't like the situation I’m in.

I can't even see, it's too dark in here, way too dark. This place doesn't feel like my own, but this… mattress, it's comfortable, way more than the one I'd sleep on, I suppose I owe a thank you to whoever brought me here, my place was disgusting. I do miss Cesar a lot though, fuck, I hate him, but it feels so empty without him with me. He got into a fight a while back, I watched. It was about something stupid, so dumb I can't remember it, but he got knocked out, received a lot of blows to the face. He went on for a long time though, but he was impressive.

I stayed with him, but as the night wore on I ended up picking him up, carrying him back to my place. It tired me, and I ended up setting him down next to me on a patch of grass, and I dozed off for just a few seconds. When I had opened my eyes, he was gone, some of his blood from his wounds in its place… along with a red thread. It may have been my eyes playing tricks on me, but it really looked like it glowed.

After a few moments of staring at the thread, my vision blurred, and I blacked out, and woke up on this mattress I'm on now.

I see this person vaguely in the dim light however, large ears and an orange glowing eye… it was terrifying. By the features, this person was plush, and God knows what the plush would do to me. But I could see the faint build in the light, and it resembled Cesar’s. That can't be him, though, not in a million years would I believe that's my… friend. That artist can't be real, they just can't. There's no way, why would someone do that anyways. How…? You can't reanimate people, bring them back from death, it's not humanly possible.

It’s not possible.