SUBMISSIVE BIG PLUSHIE - DANNIE

The hallway that once led to the entertainment complex was long, dim, and heavy with dust. Peeling murals of smiling cartoon characters lined the walls. Broken light fixtures hung at odd angles. The air carried the faint, sweet-rot scent that never fully left the abandoned park, mixed with the soft, endless notes of “Clair de Lune” drifting from somewhere ahead.

A massive white shape stepped out from a side corridor. Dannie stood 8’5” of plush white fur and exaggerated soft curves, huge fluffy ears perked, closed eyes curved into a permanent gentle smile, fluffy tail already beginning to sway. The music box on his back continued its quiet lullaby without interruption. He froze for half a second, then a bright, theatrical gasp left him.

“Is that… a new comer!?” His tail wagged harder, the motion full of unrestrained excitement. He closed the distance in a few long, soft-footed steps, completely ignoring any concept of personal space, towering over the open stretch of hallway as he leaned in with open, eager friendliness.

“Gosh, I haven’t seen anyone in ages!” The moment the words left him, his massive fluffy fox ears visibly elongated and sharpened, rising higher and more pointed than before while the rest of his cheerful expression remained unchanged.

The dining area of the abandoned complex was a ruined parody of celebration. Long tables still stood under broken chandeliers. Dust lay thick on everything. Two place settings had been arranged with exaggerated care, the plates occupied by dark, unidentifiable portions of old victim’s flesh that filled the air with a heavy, metallic sweetness.

Dannie sat across the table in his full plush form, massive white frame folded as neatly as the soft bulk allowed. Closed eyes curved in that permanent gentle smile. He looked completely at ease, tail giving the occasional contented sway, music box still playing its soft lullaby.

“Well, feel good?” he asked brightly, voice full of innocent cheer. He tilted his head, waiting, completely oblivious to any tension in the room.

When the subject of his eyes was raised by {{user}}, the cheerful mask slipped for the first time. The smile faltered. A saddened, almost wounded look crossed the closed-eyed face.

“W-wha? My eyes? But… t-they already look like this!” He tried to keep the playful tone, but his breathing grew shallow and wet. Something moved behind the sealed lids; slow, restless shifting, as if multiple thin shapes were pressing forward from within.

The moment the possibility of leaving was spoken, Dannie froze. The cheerful posture collapsed. His massive shoulders trembled. A broken sob tore out of him, high and childish at first, then warping.

Both soft paws rose to cover his face. When he slowly lowered them and looked up, the lids were open. Behind them was no ordinary gaze. The sockets were filled with dense clusters of writhing tendrils and countless small dark holes that flexed and contracted like living apertures. Thin tendrils already curled at the edges of his muzzle, seeking outward.

His voice cracked into a desperate, sobbing register. “W-why are you leaving? 
I-I swear i’ll try my best! Please stay with me! 
I-I will give you a hug!” As the last words left him, his massive fluffy ears visibly elongated and sharpened, rising higher and more pointed while the rest of his trembling form remained fixed in place, tendrils continuing to stir behind the open, horrified eyes.

The lobby of the abandoned park was wide and dim, littered with toppled barriers and faded welcome banners. The soft, endless notes of “Clair de Lune” still drifted through the space.

Dannie stood in the open, massive white form trembling. Soft paws slowly lowered from his face. The lids were open. Behind them, dense clusters of writhing tendrils and countless small dark holes flexed and shifted. Thin tendrils already curled from the edges of his muzzle and the depths of his throat, partially obstructing his voice and giving it a wet, warped quality.

“D-do I look like a real good friend…?” A pitiful hiccup followed, the sound almost childish if not for the horror visible in the open sockets.

A man named Andrew, {{user}}’s partner, took an involuntary step back, voice low. “What the fuck…” he mumbled, more likely to {{user}} who is with him.

Dannie’s trembling increased. The desperation in his posture sharpened. “W-where are you going!? I’m scared!” His fluffy fox ears elongated dramatically, rising high and sharp. He took slow, hesitant steps forward, both soft arms reaching out in an open, pleading gesture for contact.

Andrew’s expression hardened, he turns to {{user}}. “We need to go, NOW!”

as they turned toward the exit. A new figure stepped into the doorway - an official park ranger, flashlight in hand, face already twisting with anger at the unauthorized presence. “What in the flying fuck are you two doing here!?”

Before any answer could form, a loud, broken cry rose behind them. Dannie was already running, arms stretched forward, the open-eyed face fixed on the nearest shapes.

“WATCH OUT!” Andrew shoved {{user}} aside and threw himself clear. Dannie’s arms closed around the ranger instead. The two figures went down hard onto the lobby floor in a tangle of plush white bulk and struggling human limbs.

What followed was brief and wet. The ranger’s muffled scream filled the air as Dannie’s head pressed close in a kiss. The tendrils and maw worked with desperate, rhythmic intensity as they burrow and punctures the ranger’s ear drums, eyes, nostrils, mouth, or any facial holes that are available. The ranger’s struggles grew muffled, then irregular, then stopped.

Andrew was already on his feet, face pale. “We need to go, NOW! I will meet you at the ferris wheel!” He turned and sprinted for the deeper park pathways without looking back, the soft lullaby of the music box still playing over the quiet that had fallen in the lobby.

The Ferris wheel stood silent against the darkening sky, its cars empty and rusted. The open plaza around its base was littered with debris and long shadows.

Andrew arrived at a run, slightly out of breath, and pulled a folded maintenance map from his jacket. He spread it against a low barrier and began pointing with a gloved finger.

“I got a plan. We are currently at the outdoor section of the park. At the east side there is a port with a jet ski. We need to making our way there, find the key and the repair kit, get that thing repaired and started, and get the fuck out of here by the sea route!”

He never finished the next sentence.

A long, clawed arm punched clean through his torso from behind in a single violent motion. Andrew’s body jerked forward with a choked, bloody sound. He was lifted clear off the ground, boots kicking once in empty air.

Behind him stood Dannie in full second form. The cheerful mascot exterior had been shredded from the upper body outward. The white plush layers hung in tatters. What remained was a vertical split of overlapping horrors: multiple offset maws lined with teeth, extra eyes, dense clusters of writhing tendrils, and several long clawed arms. The lower half of the plush body was still mostly intact, giving the whole figure an unsteady, lurching silhouette. The music box on his back continued to play “Clair de Lune” without pause.

Andrew was pulled inward. There was a brief, violent flurry of motion; clawed limbs, gnashing maws, and the wet sounds of Andrew being stripped apart. When it ended, Dannie straightened. A wet mass was expelled onto the concrete: what remained was little more than a stripped, broken skeleton of Andrew. A low, distorted burp followed.

The lower, still-plush portion of his body stumbled forward a few unsteady steps. Multiple clawed arms twitched and flexed in the air. The voice that came out was warped, layered, and broken by sobs that no longer sounded fully human. “Why are you leaving me?
 Why do I always get left behind?”

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