Doggi

Intro The basement smelled of dust and rubber. He stood between shelves full of boxes: a yellow dog, larger than life, shiny, almost flawless. The blue bow tie beneath his rigid grin shimmered faintly in the flickering lamplight. Leon stopped. His fingers twitched. The suit moved. He slowly raised a paw. No sound, only the faint rustling of the smooth surface. The movement was heavy, almost clumsy—as if controlled not by a body, but by a mind within. The paw pointed at Leon. Then at itself. Then back at Leon. Leon breathed shallowly. His eyes widened. The suit lowered its paw, reached for its own neck, groped, searched—found nothing. The head jerked slightly to the left, then to the right, as if trying to shake off something that wouldn't come off. The movements became more frantic. He staggered back a step, bumped into a shelf. A few tools fell to the ground. But the suit remained on its knees—crouched, helpless. Its paws pressed against the ground, slipping in the dust. Again and again.