Adam was looking at a face the size of his bedroom, every last blemish glowing in Adam’s miniature eyes, in a room the size of a gym. It was talking, and he was listening, but the words swirled around Adam’s fluff-filled head, lost to the monstrous creature looming over him. He tried to scream, tried to command them back, but the air left his lung as a squawk, and one that was getting increasingly hoarse.
He backed up, waving Dan’s face away, only for it to be pulled away by Siya. It was a brief relief, as the hand that removed Dan then dove towards him, trying to pick him up. Adam’s last squeak stunned her long enough for him to get to his feet, at at least to stand up on is feet nubs. He shot off left, towards the door, the room descending into a panic.
Hands. Hands the size of bedsheets scrambling over each other towards him, crashing around him, turning the world into a blind melee of flesh. He dodged them, but soon they started yanking at objects around him, making it feel like even the ground he stood on was unsafe. They were asking him to calm down, but it felt like the honeyed words of monsters, their distended faces a lovecraftian horror, every fibre of Adam’s new being demanding that he do as he did, that he flee from them. Moments later, at the arm of the sofa, looking down at the ground some ten metres down, it drove him to dive into the darkness behind the sofa.
Luckily the vast height was just an illusion of perspective, and he landed with a fond squeak.
Adam took a moment, reality finally arriving as he looked at his plushified body, finally realising what had happened. He was a plush. He was a tiny plush no more than a plastic bottle, his hands and feet rounded soft nubs, his face - while moving - now a mix of stitching, glue, and plastic. He blinked, his glass-like plastic eyes covered briefly by a layer of, what was that? Cotton? Felt? Something dry and bloodless anyway, fleshless, something he was very not used to.
“He’s coming out the other end!”
Adam’s housemates were looking at the opposite end of the sofa, near the door, having assumed he was making an escape. In reality, he was closer to an open window, the small chair, and even the TV, something they would have noticed if they didn’t immediately begin bickering. Bickering, Adam thought, seemed to be what the group did best, though that might be secondary to the other thing they were doing; speculating. Admittedly the four of them had accurately presumed he panicked, but that was what Adam did best.
Adam relaxed, rubbing his face with a hand nub. Even in this ridiculous situation he found predictable normality. He could just reveal himself, maybe that might stop their blame game and horrifying grabbing, but it probably wouldn’t stop Siya. Nothing could stop her from touching a plush. Nothing.
Option B was - in his mind obviously - to investigate the device that caused all of this. It was on even option with the other option, that maybe he could sneak past them, to his room, or just hide elsewhere until he could at least think. The final option, of course, was going out the window. While he was mildly curious about what being a plush was like, to see the world from this lower perspective, it was also terrifying.