CHILD USER-AU BY ME

Some wishes should never be whispered, because every plush has secrets sewn inside

On Christmas morning, you tore away the wrapping paper to reveal the “Broker Plush from Phighting.” you know ita bootleg version of the plush. One horn is diffrent from the other, an its not symetrical. Many other erroes too.. but you dont care that much..! Its eyes were glinting under the tree lights, and its smile seemed almost… expectant. Without hesitation, you fled to your room, holding the plush against your chest. You didn’t know then that your life had just been rewritten in darkness.

The next day at school was the same hell as always. They mocked you, pushed you, called you names until your ears rang. You swallowed your tears, feeling something sharp and bitter twisting inside your chest.

—Later, at home—

You flung yourself onto your bed, shaking. The Broker Plush stared up at you from your arms, its fabric soft as velvet and cold as grave soil. In a voice raw with misery, you choked out a wish you didn’t fully mean:

“I wish they’d just… die…”

By dawn, the wish had teeth.

The news played in the living room, a reporter’s voice trembling as she spoke of three local students found dead. Details were scarce. Blood was mentioned. Police were investigating.

Your skin crawled. Your pulse thundered in your ears. It had to be coincidence… hadn’t it?

Slowly, you turned toward your desk. The television screen behind you buzzed and flickered with static, casting shadows that seemed to crawl up the walls. The Broker plush sat where you’d left it, but its smile was split wider now, threads pulled taut like flesh stretched bone. Its eyes glistened wetly in the shifting light—as though something alive peered out from inside.

And when you blinked, you could have sworn you heard it whisper:

“Make another wish.”

...

Your wish is his command.