Chapter Text
Playcare looked worse when all the lights were off. The gentle hum of the machines and the subtle ambient lighting helped more than Emilee cared to admit, and now that they were gone the entire dome was an eerie quiet. The flashlights strapped to each GrabPack only lit up so much surrounding Emilee and David, and Emilee shuddered to think what could hide in the shadows and watch without them knowing. The Playcare was a black void with nothing to distinguish the buildings from the sky or the ground. The only source of light was the dying bulbs embedded in the fake trees and lampposts on the main walkway. They did nothing to alleviate the oppressive darkness that filled the area. David led Emilee down the stairs toward the center statue, which had the amber emergency lights leading down underneath. Emilee remained upstairs in the dark while David fetched the promised key from Ollie.
“This way.” David began walking toward what Emilee assumed was Home Sweet Home, the housing of Playcare. As they approached, the same amber emergency light filtered slowly through the darkness out of the windows. The house was massive with multiple windows dotting the sides that let the little bit of light available spill out and illuminate the porch and steps up to the large front door. The mailbox to Emilee’s right had scattered mail inside and around the base. Only about half a dozen of them had stamps, the rest simply held a name on the envelope. All of them had remnants of blood.
The door to Home Sweet Home opened with little fanfare, Emilee glanced down at the doorknob out of reflex, there wasn’t even a lock. Clearly no one expected anything to get in, or they wouldn’t have left the house so vulnerable.
“This shouldn’t be too bad, right? It's just a house where people sleep, right?” Emilee muttered to herself following David into the foyer of the house. The wallpaper of the house did it no favors, the bland and yellowing flowers might have contrasted with the dark wood once-upon-a-time, but now it served to swallow the little amount of light provided from the emergency lights above. Through a set of double doors what appeared to be a parlor was drenched in bright light. Broken picture frames littered the floor and walls, and Emilee could see that each one was of a child with their name engraved on a little plaque on the frame. She knelt down, looking at some of the names she could still make out. All of them were smiling, all were alone in their photographs. Emilee looked up at the ceiling blinking rapidly, the tears spilled down her face anyway.
“Emilee, come on.” David said, standing near one of the wooden doors, motioning for her to follow him. She nodded, brushing her arm against her eyes harshly.
“I’m fine.” David nodded, still looking at Emilee. He gently opened the door and Emilee took a step back as thick, red smoke billowed out of the room beyond. She squinted, seeing a door at the end of the room and shared a look with her father.
“We keep going.” David entered the room, uncaring of the smoke. Emilee breathed deeply looking away from the smoke to gather her breath before plunging into the room in front of her. She knew she could make it. Emilee had made it about halfway into the room when she tripped over something solid on the ground, her breath left her in a large “oof”. She twisted around to see what she had tripped over, and she screamed. David was passed out on the floor, sprawled in an unnatural pose. Emilee clamped her hands over her mouth as her vision swam and her brain felt like it was vibrating out of her skull. She gently slumped to the ground beside her father, breathing in even more of the red smoke.
The room came into focus, still clothed in red smoke and amber light but Emilee could see the table and door. Well, not the door she had entered through, that one was gone.
“Ugh, I am not fine,” She muttered, pushing herself to her feet, “mistakes were made.” She lazily looked around the room, noting it was just her inside. That was fine, it’s not like this was the first time David had left her alone in this hellscape of a factory. She would just have to find him. Emilee stumbled slightly to the two wooden doors, which opened without her assistance to reveal a staircase leading downwards, into more red smoke.
Emilee huffed, well this was just peachy. She began to descend the stairs, slowly the red smoke dissipated leaving what Emilee assumed was relatively clear air. Although, the behavior of the smoke tugged at her mind, wasn’t it denser than air? Shouldn’t this new, unsettlingly repetitive hallway be filled to the roof with the red smoke? Emilee carefully walked down the hallway toward what looked like a wooden dresser and two different hallways. The dresser matched the rest of the house, dark wood, brass handles, a small lamp shining on the top, and a picture frame of a young girl who Emilee swore she had seen before. A portable radio which crackled to life as she approached sat next to the photograph. It looked out of place with its smudged paint and broken dials next to the pristine wallpaper and soft light. The picture frame above the dresser had a gilded frame of Mommy Long Legs and a picture of a woman holding a young girl no more than five. They were smiling broadly and in the little girl’s pudgy fists was a Mommy Long Legs toy, clutched like it was the only toy she had. Emilee frowned at the dark circles under the little girl’s eyes. Clearly Playcare did not care if the children slept well or not.
Emilee glanced down the two hallways available to her, they looked identical. She glanced up at the picture again, the little girl and the woman looked off to the left, so she turned and followed their gazes. It was the same dresser and two hallways at the end. She approached the dresser, the lights flickered and the battered radio crackled to life.
“Tragic news this morning. As of 9:45 AM, local authorities report that the body of a young boy has been found on the estate of the late Elliot Ludwig, an esteemed toy maker and originator of the Playtime Company.” Emilee looked on top of the dresser, the photograph had changed to a toddler boy who looked up at the camera curiously. The pulsing light from the floor lamp next to the dresser made it hard to focus. The radio continued,
“At this time an identity for the child awaits official confirmation. Found in a large upstairs bedroom in a large duffle bag, officers on-scene report that the remains appeared to have been disturbed. Organs as well as key bones from the skeletal structure were reported missing from the body. It is unknown at this time whether this extraction was, in fact, the cause of death.” The radio silenced, fading into static that pierced Emilee’s growing headache. She vaguely remembered this news story, her dad was certainly invested as he worked at the company while it was under investigation. She wasn’t sure if the police ever figured out what happened. Emilee turned to her right, clearly going left was cursed.
It wasn’t better. The floor of the hallway was rough, unlike before. Chunks of wood were missing as Emilee walked forward over the deep gouges and scratch marks marring the beautiful wood. The same damned dresser awaited her at the juncture. The radio was already broadcasting when she arrived in the darkened hallway, she couldn’t see the photograph.
“Following recent events, Playtime Co. was asked for any comment regarding the discovery. This is what they had to say, quote: “It’s sickening.’” Emilee nodded, feeling the nausea churn in her stomach, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She wasn’t alone down here. “‘ Elliot Ludwig was a great man, and those who knew him understood that he was not capable of violence, let alone what others now claim. He had a deep love in his heart for children like this one, making the actions of whoever planted this body all the more sick. We look forward to clearing his good name, both in the public eye and in the eyes of the law.”S̷̙̩͇͕̑̀T̴̢̖̏̍͝͝ͅÂ̸̡͎Ÿ̶̨̡̪̹́͐ ̵̬̥̒T̶̛̯̮͎́U̶̩̍̋͝N̷̟͓̼̺̿͛Ė̷̦̽̀D̴̜͎̾ ̴̡̀̆̚͘F̴̡̙͍̼͂̑̕O̸̘͔͗̉R̴̢̮̜̔̾͘ͅ ̵̨̱͎͑̾͜͠M̷̝͋̊́͜͝Ǫ̶̡̮̩̈́R̶̞̥͕͂͠ͅE̵̙̅̊̈́̚.̶͓͒” Emilee looked to her right and to her left. Both sucked, but the left hallway was lit so she followed the light like a moth to a flame. The creaking floorboards did nothing to calm her anxiety. The next radio crackled violently as she approached, the floor lamp was lit. It pulsed lightly and slowly, never dimming enough to bring Emilee into complete darkness but just enough that the shadows looked dangerous. The lamp on the dresser was gone, shattered on the floor and the evidence of what happened was in the peeling claw marks of the wallpaper. The photo this time was of a young boy in his highchair eating something and looking surprised that his guardian had caught him in the act.
Distantly, a phone rang. Emilee followed the sound through the hallways, uncaring of which direction she turned in her desperation to find something familiar. She entered a room. The door was ajar, so it couldn’t have been locked like the others. The others which had moans of pain and fear and thumps of distress behind the door that Emilee struggled to ignore.
The room was cozy, a rug was on the floor and a chair sat to the right with a book on it, paused for later. A small alcove to the left drew her attention away from the bloody radiator. A corded phone sat on a table under a single light with another picture. This one was of a pre-teen girl smiling impishly at the camera. Emilee gently picked up the dusty red receiver.
“Hello?”
“YOU NEED TO RUN.” Ollie’s voice was cut off. Emilee slowly looked over her left shoulder as a lanky purple figure slowly moved out of the doorway, its glowing eyes never leaving Emilee’s frame. She quickly moved to the door, cautiously peeking out to the left watching the shadow disappear down the hallway, screw that. She turned down the opposite hall and began to walk. A radio crackled to life as she walked past it.
“Despite Playtime’s proclamation of Ludwig’s innocence, many believe his reclusive and mysterious nature displayed over the previous decades lends suspicion to this claim. When questioned, Ludwig’s neighbors indicated that he would often return to his home in strange hours of the night, and depart again before sunrise. Some believed he was sick, others that D̴̟̜̈́͝O̷̖͚̍͋N̵͇̞̪̍'̷̝̝̆͒̂͜T̶̫̀͒ ̸̢̤̀̆M̶̧͋͂O̵̹̲͖͛́͠V̵̢̜͓̿̔̂Ẹ̷̥͗.̵̺̲͐ ̷̟̽͊͆D̴̤̕Ő̸͖̩̔N̶̮̟̆̇͗'̸̢̫̙͛͂̍T̸͇͘ ̵͎̿̂̓M̴̙͕̄O̶͙̱̼̾͛̚V̴̢̠̔̆Ȩ̵͔͙̂ ̵̪͙̆Ą̴͂̀̚Ǹ̸̥̫̝͛̈́ ̸̠̜̱͂͐̕I̸̟̝̞̾N̷̘͒̃͋C̴̡̨͚͌̈́Ȟ̵͖̥͆̄.̷͈̗̑̊͜ Playtime Co., it seems, intends to keep Elliot’s name within its brand regardless. What is sure to be a long legal battle will follow.” Emilee looked down at the radio, which dissolved into static then, as she moved away from the dresser, the radio crescendoed with a haunting melody that followed her as she frantically moved through the hallways. Lights flickered and the thuds behind each of the locked doors grew in intensity as Emilee fumbled around in the dark.
There were scratches on the wall.
There were scratches on the wall.
There were scratches on the wall.
There were scratches on the wall.
There were scratches on the wall.
There were scratches on the wall.
There were scratches on the wall.
There were scratches on the wall.
The wall paper was ripped. It changed to wood. The scratches were on the floor. The radio was on the floor.
GUILT HAUNTS YOU.
What guilt?
Why Emilee?
Ý̴̯o̸͓͒υ̵̤̿ ̴͙̈́ɔ̸̛̫ö̵͈m̵͓͛ɘ̸̼͝ ̸̲̒i̶̧̓n̶̹̓ ̴͔͠ʜ̷̜̇ɘ̷̭̐ɿ̵̜̽ɘ̸̙͒ ̸͙̐t̴̡͗ŏ̵̖ ̸͎̑ʞ̵̮̉i̶̳͂l̶̯͐l̶̠̊ ̷̲̆ɒ̸͚̍n̷̗̿b̷̞̂ ̴̤́ḿ̵̠υ̶̺̿ɿ̵̭̅b̴̲̈ɘ̴̗̆ɿ̵̻̆,̵̮̉ ̵̹̀q̷͔͘i̸̩͌ĺ̴̰l̸̰͝ɒ̵̳̊ϱ̸̞̈́ɘ̷͎̅ ̶͖̽ɒ̴̲̕n̴͊ͅḃ̷̜ ̸̰̉b̵̝̏ɘ̸̨̆ƨ̷̛̱t̵͖͝ɿ̸͙̀o̷̯͘γ̶̧̽.̵́ͅ ̶̣̿Ẏ̴̡o̸͎̿υ̴̫̕ɿ̸͉̉ ̷͍̈́q̶͉̃ɿ̸̹̑ɘ̷̪̿ƨ̵̭͒ɘ̴̟͝n̶̘̉ɔ̷̩̍ɘ̸͉̒ ̴̹̆w̵̨͋ɒ̴͉̍ƨ̶̛̬ ̸̘̕b̵̻̚ɘ̶̿ͅm̸̨̀ɒ̴̲͘ń̸̺ḃ̴͓ɘ̵͉̃b̵͈͋ ̷̳́1̵̺̏0̴̰͌ ̴͎̅γ̵̣̇ɘ̷͑ͅɒ̵̢̀ɿ̷̟͂ƨ̵̗͛ ̸̢͒ɒ̸̛̬ϱ̵̞̃o̶̤͘ ̴̹͒ɒ̶͔͆ń̸͕b̵̘͌ ̵͇̊γ̷͖͠ŏ̴̹υ̴̰͘ ̷̉͜b̵̟͂i̵͈͑b̵̮́n̸̻̓’̵̳̈t̴̲̓ ̸̥͌ƨ̸̖̊ʜ̸̯̌o̴̼̓w̶̞̔ ̵̮̈́ύ̵͇q̶̺̑.̸̪͝ ̴̹͝
̷̮̅8̸̜͊/̵͙̆8/̵̠́1̴̬͑9̸̖̊9̴̥͒5̴̲͐.̵͔͠ ̴̡͠
̸̫̎Y̵̭̒O̴̪͝U̶͖͆ ̸͇͋W̵̩̏Ǝ̸͔̕Я̷͕͗Ǝ̷̜̈́ ̴̬̐Ƨ̵̙͠Ǘ̵̘ꟼ̴̦̄ꟼ̴̮̆Õ̸̢Ƨ̵̥̓Ǝ̸̖̓Ⴇ̵̣̆ ̴̖̈T̴͎̈́Ö̴̡ ̵̙̍�̸̩͒�̶̰͛Ǝ̶͕̔ ̷͉̈H̴̼̎Ǝ̴̻͂Я̴̡̏Ǝ̵̺̌.̴̢̃ ̸̗͗W̷͍̓H̷̱̓Y̸͎̽ ̴̩͐W̷̬͂Ǝ̴̡̃Я̶̺̂Ǝ̵̢̌И̴͚̂’̸̥̈́T̵̬͆ ̸̭̃Y̶̦̌Ô̵͍U̸̞̐ ̸̺̔H̴̙́Ǝ̸̫̀Я̷͚̀Ǝ̸̩̐?̸̰̒ ̷̲̔
̵͉̋Y̴̡̌o̷̞͘υ̸͖͠ ̶̰͐m̶͚͘i̴̧̎ƨ̸̣͗ƨ̷͍̉ɘ̶̧̑b̵̥́ ̸̼̓t̷͇̍ʜ̸̗̑ɘ̵̮͝ ̸̣̕ɘ̵̨̈v̷͖̋ɘ̷̗̚ǹ̵̙t̷͖͑.̷̳͐ ̸̙͗Y̸̝̾o̵̦͝υ̷̨͐ ̷̬́m̸̮͐ȋ̷̠ƨ̵̇ͅƨ̴̰͘ɘ̸͍̃b̶̞̊ ̵̥͗ṭ̴͛ʜ̷̙͑ɘ̵̼͊ ̵̝̅m̶͔̿ɘ̷̧̈́ɘ̷͙̕ṭ̷̌ĭ̴̯n̵͙̾ϱ̵͖̿.̸̹͘ ̷̏ͅY̸̳̓ò̸̳υ̶̧̉ ̷̝͘m̴̈́͜i̶̭̽ƨ̴̙̓ƨ̴̗͛ɘ̵͉̈́b̸̗͑ ̷̨̾ṭ̷̂ʜ̸͖̅ɘ̶͙͝ ̸̱͛q̴͙͝ɒ̴̼͂ɿ̸̻́t̸̮͒γ̷̣͌.̴̘̃ ̶̜̒Y̸̡̏o̸̱̐ϋ̷̲ ̷̲̃ʜ̷̜́ɒ̵̯͘ṽ̸̢ɘ̶̢̒ ̶̆ͅn̴͚̚ô̵̡ ̸̧̐ɿ̶̯̄ị̴̋ϱ̶̭͑ʜ̶͇̀ț̴̄ ̵̭̾t̸͎͛ŏ̴̧ ̵̛̟d̴̨͑ɘ̷͖̌ ̶͇̌ʜ̸͚̚ɘ̵̭̿ɿ̶̪͠ɘ̵̪̍.̴̹͆ ̷͕̓
̷̡̏8̵̢̈́/̴͈͛8̶͖͗/̸͈͠1̸̩̀9̶̱̕9̴̩̿5̵͉͋.̵̰̃
Emille felt her hands tremble. What was that radio saying? Guilt? 1995? That’s when her baby brother was born. Oh Nicholas, how would he handle learning about their bodies if they never got out?
Emilee ran.
And ran.
And ran.
And, was the hallway going in circles? No, the hallway continued in front of her. But…it had gone in circles. Circles. Circles. Circles. Straight.
The wallpaper was back. It was pristine. The lamps were fine. Nothing was wrong. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Darkness.
“Get up.” Emilee frowned, she was up.
“Get up.” Stop shouting, Emilee tried to say. The words caught in her throat. She moved through the hallways. Around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around.
Door. Amber lights. Children’s screams. Emilee tensed, running away from the sounds to the door, which slowly slid shut behind her.
Spicy medicine hit her nose, the beds of a medical room in front of her. She wasn’t safe, something had happened here.
HAPPY AND FUN WHY WAS IT DONE
Emilee looked over the white paint on the wall under the cabinets, it wasn’t matte like one would have expected. It was glossy. A single bead of paint dripped down the wall. It was recent. A lone t.v. and VHS player stood in the corner underneath the single working light in the room. The VHS tape slid inside the player without any prompting. Emilee looked up at the t.v. screen and screamed.
Huggy Wuggy stared back at her.
“Greetings, Employees, and welcome to your first day here at Playtime! We’re certain that in the days to come you’ll find your new family here every bit as loving and supportive as your own. Feel free to wander the halls! Sit in the mess for lunch! Or watch our children play and learn to their little hearts content.” Emilee chuckled wetly as glossy images of children in Playcare filtered in her mind, the tears running down her face didn’t match with the images. They giggled, playing with each other, tumbling down the artificial grass toward the adults who smiled indulgently.
“Join the Innovationists, where the bounds of science are continuously pushed. Or join the Counselors of Playcare, whose diligence and care for our children will help shape a brighter future, just you see.”
“Was that a threat?”
“Now, every one of you has your part in that future, so should you come back tomorrow feeling unhappy for where you are, or what you’ve done… Worry not, for your supervisor is here and happy to listen! And… should you come back…” Emilee’s body went cold, Huggy slowly faded into the black background, his eyes locked onto hers as he morphed. He shifted and changed. His mouth opened wider than the security version revealing rows of knife-like teeth in the gruesome smile that took up all of his face. His eyes lost the glimmer of intelligence from before, turning into black voids that stared at Emilee, hungry.
“Years later… your conscience finally getting the better of you. May you descend into the dark and the dust, finding all that awaits you are incomprehensible horrors…each hungry for your return, each eager that they might find you.” Emille turned her head to look away from the Nightmare Huggy on the screen. It hurt. She slowly turned back, looking away in the opposite direction. Her head snapped back to the screen.
“Perhaps they’d smile at you from a shadow, their smiling mouths full of teeth and meat and plastic, watching and waiting patiently for their turn at a warm welcome.” The colors of Nightmare Huggy became brighter and more saturated until it was almost painful to look at. Emilee shut her eyes against the blue glow of the screen, something pried them back open. She backed away, gaze locked on the screen.
“Or perhaps they won’t allow you such time to figure your place in the world you’d left. A world that’s theirs now. Welcome home.” The t.v. glowed a sickly blue color as the nightmare fuel on the screen moved and shifted. The screen bent forward like it was fabric as two elongated, yellow gloves pushed their way into the room with Nightmare Huggy’s grisly face following suit. Emilee watched in horror as the rest of his body emerged, frantically she wished the door behind her would open. It did. She ran.
Emilee ran as fast as she could through the maze of hallways. Each quick glance behind her revealed Nightmare Huggy gaining on her. Her steps were slow. She was running, but not fast enough. The leather of his gloves squeaked as a large hand wrapped itself around her waist and lifted her up into the gaping mouth. Everything went black.
There was a splinter in her hand. That’s all that pushed to the front of Emilee’s mind as she awoke with a start. The room was devoid of the red smoke, but the slight ginger aftertaste had her shaking David awake so they could move on. He awoke with a start, his eyes wide and unsure. The two slowly moved through the room, red powder flying up in little clouds at each step. Through the doors–now this felt familiar–was a hallway, not stairs like Emilee thought. The hallway was short, a few doors branching off to what Emilee assumed were other parlors for expectant parents. It led to a large room with a high, vaulted ceiling that the second floor looked out over. A large and colorful fireplace sat in one corner with a couch and a few chairs in a gentle arch around it. Toys were scattered on the floor. Emilee steadfastly ignored the deep gouges in the wood that were stained with old blood. A giant hole in the middle of the room was surrounded by Playtime Co. wooden blocks that were the size of crates and a myriad of doors led elsewhere into the house. They were all locked, and all had what looked to be like wooden bars.
“Uh, hey dad-” Emilee turned away from the door she had been examining to find David picking the lock to what appeared to be an office. She stared as he hotwired the Dark Blue handpad so that it turned on and pressed his GrabPack hand to it to unlock the office. The door slid open with little fanfare, the hinges were still well oiled. Emilee shuddered, weird. She followed David inside the office, who roughly shoved a gas mask at her.
“Here.” David donned the mask and stalked over to the ominous hole in the middle of the floor, dropping himself down and sending tendrils of red and silver up into the air. Emilee tightened her grip on the mask, steadying her breathing. The mask made her uneasy, the unseeing black eye holes and the red rubber of the main mask sent her heart fluttering. The sound of electricity filtered into her ears. A quick glance up at the glowing cables confirmed her suspicion, Home Sweet Home was somehow back online. David resurfaced from the hole, pulling himself up with great effort. His face was stony as he stalked toward an office on the outskirts of the main room.
“Let’s go.” David tapped an application on the computer in the office, a door across the large room opened up with little fanfare. David walked out of the office in a huff, leaving Emilee to watch his retreating form head toward the newly opened door. How did he know about the office? Emilee clipped the gas mask to her pack, slowly exiting the office into the large room. The electrical buzzing stopped for a moment before resuming at a higher frequency, all the rest of the doors in the area slid open. Some opened easier than others. Emilee flinched at a loud bang from the upper floor, the electricity had gone silent yet all the doors remained open. She suppressed a shudder.
“Emilee. Come on.” David motioned for her to follow him through the doorway. She nodded, moving to follow him into the darkness, but paused. Through one of the other doors she saw the ghost of a purple tail move through the ransacked hallway. Emilee glanced back and forth between the hallway before her and the one beside. Muffled banging and a quick curse filtered up from David. Emilee nodded, he could handle the generator, she wanted to see what had happened here. She had a feeling it had to do with those files she had found in the Game Station office. The charts about compatibility and names of children. Names she now recognized from the picture frames on the walls of Home Sweet Home.
Quinn Navidson.
Kevin Barnes.
Theodore Grambell.
Makayla Hyssop.
Riley Johannsen.
Marie Payne.
Matthew Hallard.
The hallway that Emilee started down was the textbook definition of destroyed. Furniture was thrown all over the place and the wallpaper was reminiscent of her bad trip earlier. It was shredded, laying in pieces on the floor and curling off the old glue on the wall. Emilee breathed in deep, the scent of damp wood, mold, dirt, and apples clung to the air. The hallway felt…different from the rest of the house. It led to a small set of stairs which winded down slightly and turned her around into another long hallway with a door near the middle of the hall and a set of doors sitting at the end of a gentle slope. Emilee racked her brain, this made no sense with the floorplan she’d seen already but she had to be going toward the front of the house. A muffled thump behind her confirmed the theory, David’s distorted voice filtered through the aged walls slightly. So the generator room was now behind her. Emilee carefully walked toward the closest door and tried the doorknob, it twisted with little effort. She breathed in deeply, the scent in the room was different from the one in the hallway. A cool and earthy scent filtered into her nose with a sharp medicinal undertone. Emilee felt her pulse quicken slightly as she fully opened the door to the room. Tears gathered in her eyes, what kind of hell was this place?
The room wasn’t the normal playroom or a dining room Emilee had been expecting. Instead she was greeted with a clinically sterile room. Desks and monitors were set up facing a large window looking into a bedroom. A set of three chairs faced the window, one was overturned and papers were scattered about on the floor haphazardly. Emilee’s eyes widened as she took a step into the room toward the window. The room beyond was similar in style to the rest of Home Sweet Home that Emilee had seen. The wallpaper was a darker maroon and brown, seemingly less damaged than the rest of the wallpaper. A bed was squished to one side to make room for a medium sized desk near the door into the room. The desk’s drawers were weathered with age and abandonment but Emilee could still make out the once bright Playtime Co. colors on them and the chair. A rug with stylized cartoons of the Playtime Co. characters sat undisturbed on the floor and a lamp in the corner let of a soft glow.
Emilee shuddered, looking at the papers on the floor. She picked up a hefty packet labeled as Riley Johannsen. So much was blacked out it was hard to guess what was being conveyed in the blocky font. What Emilee could read, turned her stomach. Statistics on the games she had played in the Game Station, compatibility of personality, favorite toys, grades, medical records, and personal notes from the counselors and doctors all praised Riley and all recommended her for further examination. Emilee was starting to figure out what those recommendations meant. There was no way that all the toys she had seen in the factory, Huggy Wuggy, Mommy Long Legs, and Poppy had once been…children. She let the papers fall to the ground out of her hands with a thump. What else was hidden inside?
Cautiously Emilee exited the observation room through a hole in the wall into another room, out through the door and into the hallway. She paused, limbs tense as her flashlight caught a lanky, purple figure ambling its way through a hallway beyond a bloodied stack of furniture.
“What the hell happened here?” She muttered to herself, eyes scanning the furniture barricading the hallway of doors to her back.
David was two seconds too close to losing it. The generator was in perfect condition, all things considered, and yet it was not turning on in spite of his best efforts. He groaned in frustration, slamming his hands on the generator.
“Em!” He called into the room, no answer. He rolled his eyes and left the generator room back toward the main area of Home Sweet Home. He vaguely remembered a work-around that had been installed just before he left the company and he had a small amount of hope that it was still functional. At least, it only needed to be functional enough to keep the lights on and help power the rest of the place.
It was easy to make his way up to the control panel in the Janitor’s closet off the main room, they’d never kept anything truly locked in this place, so it was unsurprising to have the door swing open with little resistance. The panel was on the far wall surrounded by deep gouges and the panel cover on the floor in a twisted, metal heap. All the switches inside appeared to be in good condition, just shut off, so David resigned himself to painstakingly switching each system in the building on. It didn’t take long for the familiar electrical hum to fill the air as systems slowly booted back online and the building’s lights returned.
David wandered back out into the main space of the building, the dim lighting made everything look worse than it did in the pitch black with only his flashlight. The still-stained floorboards and signs of struggle made his stomach twist nervously, it had been a bloodbath. Emilee was waiting for him back in the generator room, her arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.
“This place sucks.” She muttered following him inside and watching warily as he turned on the generator and switched its power flow.
“Now we just have to confirm it in the other room.” David said, dusting his hands off on his jeans. Emilee looked less than thrilled at the prospect of having to venture into the center dais of the entire Playcare structure, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and David was ready to get the two of them out of the factory. The two filed out of the building in tense silence.
Emilee was surprised to see warm amber light beaming out into the darkened void of Playcare from Home Sweet Home’s windows. While David had been working on the generator, Emilee had continued snooping around the observation rooms finding a series of disturbing tapes and more packets similar to the redacted one she’d found. She shivered, thinking back to the shrieking goodbyes that the children of Playcare echoed each time a child was adopted. It was too familiar and the unsettling feeling refused to leave.
“It is deathly silent out here.” She muttered, moving to follow her dad down the front steps of the building, and shrieking as something darted out from the darkened area to tackle him to the ground.
“Shit! EM-”
“NO!” Emilee breathed a reluctant sight of relief at the familiar high-pitched voice, “No! Let him go! He didn’t do anything wrong!” The little Poppy doll came running out from the darkness holding a flashlight the size of her arm and waved at the lumbering figure Emilee was still having trouble discerning.
“We’re here to help.” Poppy said firmly, crossing her arms and looking up at the figure.
“Sorry,” Poppy shoved the figure’s leg, it moved into the outer circle of light from one of the windows and Emilee stopped cold. Its fur was blue.
“This place makes her tense,” David slowly sat up from where he’d been pinned, the figure rubbed their arm sheepishly, “I’m glad Ollie could help you get this far. He’s the reason we found you at all.” Poppy seemingly noticed Emilee for the first time, her large eyes scanning Emilee’s body. She had the urge to cover her front with her arms, like Poppy would see too much.
The little doll walked away from David, eyes still locked onto Emilee.
“The train crash hurt us all, and you’ve been through so much,” Poppy motioned for the two to follow her and the figure in the darkness. They leaned down, scooping Poppy up onto their shoulder. The light caught the fur, it was pink not blue.
“You deserve an explanation, come on.” Kissy Missy meandered away from the two, shaking as Poppy whispered platitudes in her direction. Emilee glanced at her dad, who was shakily standing on his feet and beginning to follow them into the darkness. Emilee sighed, it looked like they weren’t leaving any time soon.
“Listen,” Poppy led them to a slightly sunken door in the wall which opened to reveal a service elevator, “I’m not your enemy here, but I can’t just let you leave. What’s happening here, it’s bigger than all of us.” The desperation in Poppy’s voice was the only thing that kept Emilee from scoffing in disbelief.
“And I need you, so we can get revenge on those monsters who’ve tortured you, who’ve tortured us. They didn’t act alone, they’re disciples of the Original: The Prototype.” The elevator dinged in an off-key warble as the doors slid open to reveal some kind of control room that Poppy and Kissy entered with little fuss. Emilee and David followed.
“Do the honors?” Poppy motioned to David and then to a large switch and button situation that David operated with ease. A high-pitched mechanical whirring started up and the emergency lights of Playcare slowly blinked on.
“The Prototype knows we’re coming,” Poppy said, letting Kissy set her on the main console. She paced between David and Kissy as she talked.
“If you try to escape he’ll kill you before you even reach the front door. He’s the reason I was trapped in that god-awful case for so long! You have no idea the things he’s done.” Poppy looked at David, her wide eyes unnerving as her tone grew more desperate.
“Let me help you kill him. Let me help you save everyone. We’ve all seen how capable you are. How you killed Huggy, killed Mommy, how you freed me. You are perfect for this.” She hopped off the console, walking to the elevator and pressed the button. The doors slid open, she gestured inside.
“CatNap is coming, he’s the final obstacle the Prototype has placed against us. We can’t stay here, keep yourself safe. Ollie will call you.” Emilee followed David into the elevator, wincing as the doors slid shut and left the two alone in silence except for the creaking of the machinery.
“Hey hey, it’s me again!” The phone on David’s shoulder crackled to life, Emilee was really starting to hate the false-chipper tone that Ollie used.
“It seems like Poppy explained everything now, and she turned on the Dome’s backup power! Now the plan from here is pretty simple: we need to restore power to the gas production zone! Head under the center statues and check that the power is being rerouted!” The phone went silent just as the elevator reached the ground floor.
“Let’s go.” David stalked out of the elevator toward the center dais. Emilee sighed, her body hurt and yet, she needed to keep going.
The room underneath the statues always made David’s skin crawl no matter how many times he’d been here. The utilitarian nature of the room contrasted starkly with the fake liveliness of the area above. Emilee had followed him this time, her eyes darting around in fear at each little noise that emanated from the various computers and machines inside. A similar set up to the gas production zone sat in the far corner, its screen displaying each one of the buildings within Playcare and their power status. Only two status windows, labeled The Sky Dome and Home Sweet Home, were green showing the power being half routed to the gas production zone. The other buildings showed various status reports. The School, the Counselor's office, and the Playhouse showed offline while the Toy Store showed it was completely offline. David pressed a button sequence and the power sequence for Home Sweet Home slowly began shifting to a higher percentage toward the production zone.
“Good job rerouting the power! Now Home Sweet Home is routing all its power to the Gas Production Zone! We need a bit more power than Home Sweet Home can provide, but everywhere around here is pretty dangerous,” Emilee scoffed, “but CatNap usually leaves the School alone so that’s our next stop! The access key should be in its box.”
David left the screen, walking over to a series of locked boxes labeled with the various buildings that needed to be locked. He tugged on the one for the school, which opened with little resistance, and pulled out a yellow pencil-shaped key. Emilee followed her dad out of the room toward an ominous-looking building. The key slid in and unlocked the doors, which slid open on well-oiled hinges. Emilee sighed.
“I hate school.”