Work Text:
You are roughly thrown into a room, and you hit the concrete floor, hard.
As you struggle to sit up, the door slams shut and you are plunged into darkness. You want to yell, to ask what is happening, but all of a sudden the atmosphere of the room shifts. You feel like you are being watched.
Your breath falters. Is there someone in here with you?
A hollow whirring sounds as cold fluorescent light floods the room. You whip around to face the room, squinting against the brightness, to confirm that you are alone—
390 pairs of blotchy eyes are trained on you. Blank stares from pale shapeless faces.
390 irregular mouths, curved into knowing smirks.
L’ours en peluche.
You scream.
