[TOY] Plaything

[skinstealer]

…you’re flying. You never knew you could fly, but here you are, soaring through the air. Flapping your wings feels natural, and-

You hear a voice from down below you, and you turn to fly towards their direction- you recognize them! It’s your friend! And-

The closer you get, the worse it starts to feel. Why are you flying to them? It feels…wrong, and you don’t like the look in their eyes once you get close enough to see it.

????: …Gotcha.
 

They raise their hand and something hurts in your chest, more painful than anything you’ve ever experienced- you’re falling, you’re drowning, it hur-

You land before you can process it, your rubber body impaling itself on a massive, sharp sword- directly where the pain was. You’re completely pierced through, and a panicked look around reveals you’re surrounded by swords, your face reflecting off of them like mirrors. 

????: …you really should have listened to me, Polly.
????: It didn’t have to end like this.
POLKA DOT: G-go away!
POLKA DOT: I don’t want-
POLKA DOT: I don’t want you near me!
????: …tch.
????: Coward.
 

The sound of footsteps retreating away from the forest of swords is a relief, but it doesn’t last long- someone’s coming from the other direction, and you’re filled with panic, fear-

 

A now-familiar hand touches yours, painted, ridged plastic.

WILLOW: …you’re safe now.
WILLOW: That’s what you want, right?
POLKA DOT: Y-yeah…
POLKA DOT: Willow, it h-hurts…
WILLOW: Shh…
WILLOW: It’ll be okay.
 

You can’t see her from your current position, but you feel her move her screen face to your chest wound, pressing it against it with a tiny beep.

In your pained haze, all you can remember is that the pamphlet called that “a kiss.”

POLKA DOT: Wi-

---

You wake up with tear-like paint markings running down your cheeks.

There’s someone knocking at the door.