He could not feel pain.

Since he was a stuffed toy made of cotton, Sir Teddy did not suffer when the enemy´s large claws pierced through his tiny body.

Not that it mattered.

Whether he was in pain or not was irrelevant, to be quite honest.

He had been completely defeated.

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Sir Teddy spent a long time staring at the ceiling, not because it was particularly interesting, but because he had no other choice. He was lying on the ground, his body destroyed and torn apart in several pieces that had been scattered all over the bedroom.

The stuffed animal kept paying attention to any noise that could warn him that Layla´s parents had finally come back home, but the rain had stopped and the streets were completely silent.

He had a vague idea as to what was taking them so long: human couples sometimes needed some time for themselves, away from their children, to remember what made them fall in love in the first place. At least that´s what he had learned from watching stories from the Shiny Magic Box the family kept in the living room.

But this situation was bad.

The worst ever.

Layla was his owner. His best friend. Watching her being grabbed by her ankles and dragged away by that rotten creature was just…!

I´m disgusted at my own incompetence.

It was certainly strange.

That was not the first bogeyman Sir Teddy had ever encountered: most stuffed animals like him could feel the evil presence of a bogeyman from a mile away, so protecting their human owners during the night was a pretty simple task. Whether the enemies came from under the bed or from inside a wardrobe, these creatures were almost always meek and fearful, so sending them back to wherever they came from was generally a mere matter of cunning intimidation and standing your ground.

It was a staring contest similar to two wild animals sizing each other up. Most of the time the kids involved would not even wake up as the whole situation took place. They would never find out that they had been protected from danger.

But tonight was different.

Way too different, in fact.

The enemy was strong and evil and Old.

Its presence was that of an ancient, long forgotten demonic powerhouse that should never be able to enter the Realm of Humans, so full of light and warmth and bright colors.

The creepy monster who wore a bird-mask had ripped Sir Teddy apart easily, with a single blow, and then dragged Layla to that place.

Under the Bed.

The little bear had heard the stories. Most toys were not exactly sure of what they would encounter if they ever ventured in that dangerous place that connected the worlds of humans and monsters. What he knew was that it was almost impossible to come back, and it was not rare for certain children (and their stuffed guardians) to completely vanish from this world and never be found again.

Their disappearances would forever remain as mysteries that no human detective would ever be able to solve.

Adults did not believe in monsters that crawled in the dark, after all.

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Even though any kid could tell you that a room becomes scarier when the lights go out, as soon as they grow up a little, they become unable to admit it to themselves. “There´s nothing in the dark”, they will say, feeling ashamed about their fears.

But there will always be kids that will swear they saw or heard something in the shadows of their bedrooms.

That unshakable reality is what kept the stories about boogeymen and goblins and slendermen from disappearing, as they kept being passed on from generation to generation, as a warning to all children and all stuffed toys: be wary in the dark.

Even so, he had to go.

That was his Will and his Nature: even compared to other stuffed toys, who were diligent protectors, Sir Teddy was loyal to a fault.

He would bring Layla back.

This was not only about his sense of duty or pride: he really loved that girl.

The sound of her desperate screams as she was dragged through the room kept ringing in his cotton ears as a reminder of his failure, and he could not wait to correct that shameful mistake.

What was taking him so long, then, you may ask? Well, his body was destroyed, and he had no time to wait for Layla´s Mom to repair him with her gentle and skilled needle before getting back up. So he had to heal himself the old fashioned way: slowly but surely, the pieces of his body were crawling across the room, all magically attracted by his head and torso. Those main parts were working as a nucleus at the center of the ritual. The little balls of cotton would roll fast across the floor, quickly reassembling his body, but the bigger parts, like his legs, would take a long time to move, slithering like snakes, as it took every ounce of his willpower to drag them closer to the main body.

Come.

You want to save her, don´t you all?

You are all Me.

Every little piece, and every little speck of dust.

We all exist for a single purpose.

So come. Crawl to me.

Let Us be Whole again.

He knew this action was strictly forbidden, as any human that watched such a scene would instantly be scared out of his mind and assume the poor toy had become a cursed item, but he was in a hurry. He also knew not every toy was capable of this: Sir Teddy was pretty sure toys like him were a small minority, as he had encountered plenty of stuffed animals and dolls and shiny objects that had no Voice, and could never protect their precious owners at night.

They were hollow.

The little bear finally got back up, but his legs felt shaky and weak, as if connected merely by wishful thinking. That was precisely the case: right now Sir Teddy was a bundle of cotton held up entirely by his own mental strength. He needed to be sewed up to move efficiently, since his present form, all destroyed and messy, would not last long.

He could not find one of his eyes, and the huge blind spot on the left side of his point of view was a huge annoyance. Sir Teddy tried to walk but fell forward, his face meeting the floor.

Worthless. You´re such a piece of trash.

Harsh words. He had heard this kind of remark more times than he could remember. He was not a videogame. Not shiny, colourful, or entertaining enough. He was a simple toy from a simpler time, that could only be useful with the help of a lot of creativity and childish imagination.

From now on, your name will be Sir Teddy.

Layla´s voice came back to him.

She was 7 at the time. She was dressed as a princess. It was her birthday, and her hands were still wounded, but she was smiling.

The girl didn´t have a sword, so she used a spoon. She touched both his shoulders and his forehead, imitating something she saw on the Shiny Magic Box.

Now you´re my knight. A bear knight.

And she laughed, like that was the funniest thing ever, a child´s laugh that was silly and pure at the same time.

Oh, yeah. That´s true, isn´t it?

Sir Teddy got up.

I´m a knight.

You know that too, right, legs?

So get on with it.

MOVE.

He started to walk.

He could not remember how long it took him to go all the way to the parents´ bedroom, find Layla´s Mom sewing kit, and patch himself up in an amateurish way. He felt clumsy.

At least now his cotton would not spew up in front of him every time he moved, so it was better than nothing. The stuffed toy looked at himself in the mirror, and frowned.

His body was completely covered by aggressive sewing marks. Long trails of stitches that looked like bizarre scars.

He looked scary. Not cute at all. He hoped Layla would be able to recognize him later.

The way back to his owner´s bedroom was much easier, as he could move with more freedom. He stuck several of the Mom´s needles into his own belly to use as weapons if needed, and grabbed the Dad´s new flashlight, knowing it could prove useful.

Sir Teddy stared at the Bed, and suddenly it occurred to this small bear that a dangerous adventure was waiting for him at the end of a few more steps.

He hated the thought.

He was not an adventurer, not in the least.

He liked comfy nights watching the Shiny Magic Box while Layla ate popcorn and drank soda. He liked the smell of books and hot chocolate. A “good adventure”, to him, was something like being taken to the bathroom and getting soaked whenever Layla dragged him into the bathtub. Layla´s Mom would always get mad and scold her daughter, but the Princess would laugh and say it was a Knight´s duty to follow her to any place.

To any place, he thought, bitterly.

He smelled the sweet fragrance of the carpet, knowing that maybe he would never see this room again.

Sir Teddy went Under the Bed.