Steam Community :: DabDooB

DabDooB

Noah

Ash Sharqiyah, Saudi Arabia

Once upon a time, in a small, sleepy town nestled between endless forests and forgotten ruins, there was a peculiar little toy shop. It had stood for decades, its wooden sign swaying with the wind, the letters barely legible. The store was filled with old trinkets, handcrafted dolls, and peculiar mechanical toys that no one could remember buying. Among them, hidden in a dusty corner, sat an old teddy bear.

Unlike the others, this bear was different. It wore a brown tweed suit, its button eyes black as the void, and its stitched smile just a bit too perfect. No one had bought it in years, and it sat there, waiting, watching. The locals whispered stories about the bear, claiming it had been in the shop longer than anyone remembered, even longer than the shopkeeper himself. Some said the bear had a soul, trapped inside by an old curse. Others believed it was waiting for the right owner, someone foolish enough to take it home.
One evening, a young man named Noah wandered into the shop. He had always been fascinated by vintage toys, drawn to their craftsmanship and the eerie nostalgia they carried. As he browsed the shelves, his eyes landed on the peculiar teddy bear in the corner. There was something about it, something… familiar. The moment his fingers brushed against its fabric, a chill ran up his spine. But he shook off the feeling and carried the bear to the counter.

The shopkeeper, an old man with deep-set eyes, hesitated as he rang up the purchase. "That bear… be careful with it, my boy. There’s something not right about it."

Noah laughed nervously. "It's just a toy."

The shopkeeper sighed, his hands trembling as he placed the bear in a paper bag. "Perhaps. But some toys… they remember things. And they don’t like to be forgotten."

That night, Noah placed the teddy bear on a shelf in his bedroom. He admired its odd elegance, its perfect stitching, the way its button eyes gleamed under the dim light. Yet, as he turned to leave the room, he swore he heard something. A whisper. A rustling sound, like fabric moving on its own. But when he turned back, the room was still.

Days passed, and strange things began to happen. Noah would find the bear in different places—sometimes on his desk, sometimes on his chair, once even sitting at the foot of his bed. At first, he convinced himself he had simply forgotten moving it. But then came the whispering at night.

Low, unintelligible murmurs, just beneath the threshold of hearing. They slithered through the darkness, brushing against his consciousness as he tried to
sleep. He began to feel watched, an unshakable sensation that the bear's black button eyes followed him wherever he went.

Then, his dreams changed.

He dreamt of dark corridors stretching endlessly, of a child's laughter echoing through empty halls. In his dreams, he saw the bear, moving—walking, its tiny fabric limbs twitching unnaturally. And then, one night, he woke up to find it standing upright on his nightstand, staring directly at him.

His breath hitched. His body froze. He wanted to believe he was still dreaming, but the cold sweat on his skin told him otherwise.

Then the bear spoke.

"Do you want to play a game, Noah?"

The voice was low, gravelly, ancient.

Noah scrambled backward, nearly falling off his bed. The bear tilted its head, its stitched smile seeming to widen.

The lights flickered, and the shadows in the room stretched unnaturally. The bear took a step forward. Then another.

Noah lunged for the door, but the knob wouldn’t turn. Behind him, he could hear the soft patter of the bear’s feet on the wooden floor, could hear its voice, now filled with amusement.

"You brought me home, Noah. That means we’re friends forever."

He slammed his fists against the door, his heart hammering against his ribs. The whispers grew louder, swirling around him like a storm. Then—silence.

The room was empty.

The bear was gone.