Mouth Full of Cotton

Chapter Five: Decision-Making [MARK WHITE]

Days upon days on end, he would talk to me, feed me, make sure I was alright, thriving, even. I still kept in my mind that this was a beast, not a friend, thinking of different ways to take down this creature, to kill Ces.
Strangulation, it would be too slow, leaving air to scream out, alert someone, or he'd fight back, overpower me, and kill me. With how weak I was, I knew I couldn't break his neck, or anything of that sort. Poison… where would I even get poison? I know I can't find any of— but then an idea hits my mind, crashing my thoughts like a train-wreck. There was a pair of scissors on a nightstand, and I quickly swiped them up. When Ces would turn his back to me and prepare to leave the room, I would stab him in the neck, and he would fall.

He made his way into the room, his closed-mouth grin on his face, as it usually was when he'd come in and speak with me. He brought me crackers today, and I ate them with slight haste, a quickened pace so subtle, he wouldn't acknowledge it.

I let the salt simmer on my taste buds before chewing and swallowing, thinking of it as a sort of metaphor of how bitter the victory would be. He would die, but that would mean I could live, escape, and tell everyone about my experiences… maybe not everyone, maybe just the police. Would they even believe me…? They should, they would.

I finish my crackers, Ces getting up and taking my trash, going to throw it away. As he made his way, I forced myself onto shaky limbs and raised the scissors slowly, perfecting my aim.

Just as he was about to dispose of the trash, I struck, shooting my arm down to his neck. In the blink of an eye, his ear turned to focus on my direction, and he whipped around, taking a tight hold of my wrist and staring me in the eyes. I shouldn't have waited so long, if it weren't for my slow focus, it would've been done and over with, and I could escape.

His ears were pinned back, a low cat-like growl rumbling his throat. His eyes were slightly widened, and he spoke through gritted fangs. “Now… what do you believe you are doing, Mark?” He asked me, the growl audible in his tone as his eyes narrowed. “You'll hurt yourself with those sharp, sharp scissors.” He emphasized as he snatched the scissors away, throwing them to where they stabbed through the wall by sheer force. My heart dropped, this was surely my end.

I felt my legs give way, shaking as my knees buckled and I fell to the ground, looking up at Ces with a horrified expression strung on my face. He only smirked down at me, the expression belittling my very existence down to my very breathing. Soon enough, his look seems more docile, relaxed. “I think it's time for you to rest again, no? You seem tense.” He breathes out the word, a thin layer of malice coated on it, in my mind.

He held me under the arms, lifting me up and setting me back on the bed, and there I stayed, even when he had left and I let out a shaken sigh, a chill running up my body as I rethink the encounter. It was terrifying… maybe I cant even kill a plush, maybe I'm doomed to die like this. I hope not. I curl up under the covers and try to go to bed, my mind still racing and my body trembling.

I need to get out of here.