It Looks At Me

by Nugget

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Original Character
Length: 1006

A stallion can't stop looking at it's plushie.

Based upon elements from Edgar Allen Poe's "A Tell-Tale Heart."

I can't stop looking my own plush. I don't know why, but I can't seem to stop looking at it and taking care of it. What's wrong with me? I've never acted this way before.

Audio Reading by MatfixBrony

Published 2017-11-10 22:10:11 UTC
Last updated 2017-11-10 22:10:11 UTC

Fine Line

It looks at me with those evil eyes…

...and I look back at it.

I never seemed to notice it before, but now I believe it could be true. Is my stuffed animal alive or am I going crazy tonight? I seem to think the latter since the idea of a cotton-stuffed plush living and breathing sounds down-right insane. They’re just fancy comfort pillows and not something that would come to life and have their own free will.

She's a plushie for crying out loud!

To consider it real is false, yet every day I take it off the mantle and hold it close to me while the flames crackle and pop within the fireplace. As I lay on my lazy colt, I carry myself away with petting the plush, combing her black mane, and talking to it like a best friend. I treat this stuffed equine like she's another pony within my apartment, like it’s an actual living thing! Oh Celestia! I’ve even given it a name!

It's name is Fine Line.

With it's silver coat and sapphire blue eyes, it looks like another innocent, stitched together filly. Like any other stuffed-animal, it's purpose was to bring joy and love to whoever owned it. Fine Line was meant to be a furry ball of love and kindness. It displays that quality with a smile it wears on her cute, little face. This thing seemed harmless, like it didn’t have any quality that indicated towards something being wrong with it, but you’d be surprised.

I can see it, yet nopony else could.

Is it mad to say that this thing is trying to control me? That’s absurd! Right? How can a lifeless object take over a fully living equine when it’s only been inside my home for about a week? Is this a sign from the powers above that my own free will is a joke? Is it time for me to surrender it so another object may live? No! It can’t be! Maybe… just maybe…

Is it cursed?

I didn’t seem to think so. In fact, I used every unicorn trick in the book to check and make sure the plush wasn’t tampered with. From spells and charms to potions and brews, I casted and poured as much magical properties as I could onto the stuffed animal. However, it yielded no results besides stained and torn up fur. After all the experiments were over with, the plush looked abused. It appeared as if I took and used it to scrape paint off the walls.

After running it through the washer and drier a few times, I took Fine Line and placed her back on the mantle. Looking at me once more with vulture-like eyes, while white scars covered her body, I couldn’t help but get angry for some reason I had no idea about. Was I mad over the fact that I can’t figure out why this plush is driving me insane? Have I begun to lose my mind over a stuffed-animal? Really!?!

I had enough of this raging madness. The plush wasn’t real! It never had a beating heart, it's own thoughts, feelings, and an actual body to move around and use! It has never understood the concept of free will or the concept of anything a mind can comprehend! IT'S. NOT. REAL.

...and she's back in my hooves once more.

I’m sitting down in my chair, looking at the fireplace with Fine Line tucked into my side. I seemed to comfort it for an odd reason. Somehow or another, I brought it peace and a stable mind. Does it know that it’s not a real pony? Does it know that it can’t feel emotion and senses such as the warmth of the flames?

I thought so since Fine Line kept her eyes away from the fire. It’s ashamed of the fact that it never had the chance to be a real, living equine. That’s why it looks away from the flames. It doesn’t want to look at something it can never feel or sense. It’s sad to think about if you ask me.

I felt bad for the plush. Does she really know it’s existence is as meaningless as its ability to live? Why should I give it life? Why should I treat this plush like she's something special? Does it really know what it’s done to me? Does it really know what it constantly reminds me of?

It reminds me every single day of how I’m affected by a disease.

I can see how nervous I am right now. As my hooves tremble and shake within this chair, I could feel my senses sharpening while my grasp upon the plush tightens. Suddenly, I knew what had to happen. I could hear it within the whispers of the wind, blowing through the open window pane. They coaxed me into a trance, telling me to get up and walk towards the fire.

I took the plush and used my magic to levitate it within the air. As it hovered over my head, I took another step further until my front hooves were in front of the fireplace. I could feel the heat of the flames comforting my chest. With the fire burning within the sight of my eyes, I felt the anger within me once more. Looking up at the plush, I then knew what must occur. This is what the wind told me to do.

I threw the plush into the fire.

As I watched it burned, I could feel my own obsession over the stuffed-animal leaving my mind. Its like I was purifying my own soul by throwing away and watching my sins be engulfed by the flames of Tartarus. Nevermore will I allow my compulsions to control my own will anymore. As the plush reduced to nothing more than ashes, my fixation upon it was finally gone. I couldn’t feel the stuffed-animal's temptation lurking over my body once more.

The deed was finally done…

...and now I’m free.