Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

A low hum echoed throughout the empty halls. As usual, the overhead lights sang a low, quiet song, occasionally stuttering through a flicker. Each note held the same depressing tone, fitting for a factory once vibrant with smiles, with laughter, with tears, with skin...with joy, until that joy turned from humanity and to those once held within its grasp.

Once held, and then betrayed.

The lights continued to sing. The halls remained silent, wide as opened, starving mouths, dripping with decay and harrowing memories, following whispering plastic leaves littering Playcare, through the webs leading into the Game Station, all the way up to the locks of their prison cell doors. Not a single toy so much as touched the handles on those front doors. No matter how loud their plastic veins screamed for freedom, fresh air will never reach those misplaced lungs.

As it should. No one escapes, and no one is welcomed, unless they want to witness the horrors done by their hand.

.

.

.

Their cell door clicked and slowly creaked open sooner than expected. But it wasn't another worker that descended into their Heaven, no, it was more of a soul filled with youth...not a child, but a familiar innocence flickered in their eyes.

Her eyes. 

Something sharp shot through his chest — a human little feeling, something very few could provoke. It’s impossible. 

Did her cry for help not reach its target? Has it reached a newfound victim instead? Why here, and why now? And why her? 

I thought you were dead. I thought I’d never see you again. His blood rushed faster throughout that cell of a body; the more she moved cautiously, so delicately, throughout the main lobby, the more of what was truly left of him pulsated faster. “You…came back to me.” 

Thousands of eyes peering closer, peering well. A small human of golden-brown skin and innocence swimming in the dark sea inside her eyes, cautiously walking through the gates toward Hell. Yet behind her, for just a split second, a ghastly Limbo was seen. Perhaps the fault lies within their inability to fully comprehend the outside world anymore.

But more importantly, she remained beautiful. Even more so than that day.

"Hello..?" the young soul said, in a voice as soft as silk. "I got your note... thing... It said there were people here?"

Silence prevailed.

“I, uh.. I don't really have anywhere else to go.” There were cracks within that silk — she spoke as if she hadn’t spoken in a long time. “I can’t really…" An oddly large backpack followed closely behind the puny girl. "Is it okay if I stay with you guys? I brought snacks! Uh, mostly sandwiches, I couldn't find many other ingredients to make anything else, but I did see a supermarket on the way here! Pretty lucky-ducky, huh? ...Am I just talking to myself-? I probably am..." She uttered that last bit rather quickly.

Those eyes and those little hungry souls slivered back into the cracks of the walls, down and down and down into the abyss. When the eyes returned to that cell of a body, he finally acknowledged the purring pawn by his side. The pawn's tail coiled affectionately as he rubbed against its pulsating skin suit.

Something twitched inside them, grumbled desperately, then sat still. He felt it. Just look at those faces — a pity; however, rage began to ignite when some of their desperation turned towards her. 

So, he stood, gaining every bit of that attention back. “Children… We have another outsider.” 

The little souls growled and hissed, primal urges to feed running rampant throughout their bodies, big and small. He held up a hand, and immediately, they shushed. And for the first time in a long time, something almost stopped him from speaking. “This one… is different. She has not contributed to our suffering. In fact…” More of that humanity washed over him, like it all happened just yesterday. “She…helped us. Helped me.”

The little souls became unsure: some tilted their heads, others exchanged glances like confused children. But many remained hungry. The pawn gazed up at him in curiosity. 

An idea cursed him, something much more pleasurable. “...Bring her to me. Delay your hunger and do not lay a finger on her. If any of you even attempt, consider it a betrayal against me.”

Far in the back, he spotted Gracie huffing and rolling her eyes, muttering something to that ridiculous ‘companion’ of hers. Once she noticed his glare, she ceased her childishness. You know what happens if you go against my word, Example.

He signaled for them all to leave, and soon, silence coddled him. Quickly, he turned his gaze back to her — she was setting down her stuff, her movements stiff, uncertain, yet mesmerizing; just like the day he held her soft, bitten hands. Perhaps she still messes with them. That would be a comforting sight to see again. 

The reflection of those little souls burned in his memory. He knows that those looks in their eyes conquered their judgment — and he cannot afford to spend more time away from finding his dearest sister to make sure they follow his word. All he can do now is hope; maybe his ideal home can be achieved after all.

Believe me, my dear, there is nothing more that I want than to see the two of you in my arms again. He put his hands on the screen, rubbing over the moving image of her head that looked around so adorably. But times are already dire, so I will let you decide whether that happens or not.

Chapter Text

Through time and space, every choice here echoes from living breaths and through the souls after death. 

This universe is not a recording of what its original creators intended; it is seen through the eyes that watch a Subset.

This is a love story.

~

Find the flower, the note said. There are people still here, the random note in a random house of the random person she didn't know said. Well, tell that to the humming vents and heavy air that breathed silence. 

No matter how long she sat still and listened close to every creak, whir, tap, and dripping water in the distance, nothing she heard could be distinguished as human. And no flowers, not even hints on where to find one.

They wouldn’t have been caught up in the blast, Yasmin thought as she looked around the front desk area. The dome’s still up, so I’m sure everyone inside is still safe. Although… Through the crevices of her memory, she remembered his face, and her heart leaped, then squeezed terribly. Maybe they ran out of food? 

She suppressed the urge to vomit. No, there’s someone here. If I remember correctly, this place is like a country in itself, according to Daddy. I can find someone. I can find someone. That phrase repeated in her mind as she lifted her bag back up, her gas mask hitting against the side to remind her that there are other options. I can find someone.

Yasmin bent backward some more and let out a massive scream. It bounced off the walls and probably underneath however many locked doors there were. Hopefully, that alerted someone. The silence was becoming deafening. 

“Okay!” she yelled, trying to get energy back into her system. “Let’s go, let’s get, let’s—!” She shuffled her shoulders and scurried around the main area — AKA, the definition of filth. 

Dirt and dust caked the walls and floated through the air. The blue, yellow, and red signature colors painted the floors, walls, and ceiling, dreadfully chipped, peeling like wilted flowers without seeing the suns of people for a good, long time. The insides of the walls banged against its concrete skin, likely due to neglect of the pipes. At first glance, it didn’t look too bad for a toy factory that hasn’t gotten TLC for 10 years, but if you stood still and really took it all in, every inch of this place did nothing but wallow in its own misery.

Heaven compared to what was out there.

Yasmin gripped her backpack straps and walked past the front desk, then spotted a VHS player. “Ooh, okay, green, green…” she mumbled, eyes lighting up at the machine’s bright color. There was no tape anyway, so out of curiosity, she pressed the stop button, then the rewind, which brought the TV to life.

 A man’s voice spoke with authority: “Hi, my name is Leith Pierre, and I’m the head of innovation here at the Playtime Co. toy factory. If you’re seeing this, then you’re trespassing!”

“Oh—”

“Yeah, we play this little tape on loop whenever we close the factory for the day. So, trespasser, just to make you aware, while we pride ourselves primarily on our high-quality toys and excellent childcare, we also pride ourselves on our security. For example, this facility is full of hidden motion triggers — which, once set off, will turn on the factory’s emergency alarms and directly contact the authorities. And…that’s one of the more tame aspects of our security system. No spoilers! So, you’ve got my warning. It’s not too late to turn around. I just hope that you’re certain whatever you’re doing is worth it.”

“I mean, I’d say so.” The VHS player clicked off, and Yasmin clicked the eject button. “‘Laith Pierre’…” she said, reading off the VHS tape. “I hope all that techno babble you were going on about still works.”

The main entrance offered little beyond that tape. There were two rooms to the side: a gift shop and a staff-only room. The gift shop offered a glimmer of hope: a train chugged in circles near the ceiling, its tracks illuminated by flickering light. And in the staff room was another tape — colored with a dashing dark blue to match its player — explaining how to operate a neat little “grabpack” the workers here had used when the factory was up and running. Not that there was any point to that; there was no grabpack there for her to use. Didn’t Daddy say he used one?

But yes, she saw the blood. She saw the corpse of a toy that rested on the desk of the gift shop and the little cursed “Cat-Bee” on the musty couch beside the staff room. Old, black relics of their lives were splattered right next to their little bodies. There was hardly a whiff of what was left of them.

If she had gloves, she would’ve given them a proper burial outside. But there’s no way I came all the way in here just to get an infection. 

Yasmin muttered a guilty “Sorry” to the Cat-Bee and that robot thing in the other room, then headed behind the desk of the main entrance area, ignoring that creepy Huggy wall painting.

~

Someone left behind a path. “This is awfully convenient. But also great! But also—” Yasmin continued talking to herself as her nails went wild on picking at her hand’s skin. 

Every activated door blew in cold air on the fresh open wounds. It was like the factory itself was personally inviting her deeper into its stomach, just one way. All the other doors were either locked or she needed some grabpack hands to open them.  “Maybe it would've been a bit more environmentally-friendly just to have keys instead of all this power-activation stuff—” and the second that sentence made her sound like her grandparents, she finally shut up for a few moments.

There was some sorta packaging area with another tape of just two guys complaining about their job — “You were the ones who applied here. Don’t know what else you expected,” Yasmin said after the tape finished, but instead of another convenient entryway to another room, it was to a vent instead. It engulfed darkness on the other side.

She froze in place after peaking inside and seeing nothing that could help her see through the tunnel, aside from the little ground lights that basically did nothing. The vent’s conveyor belt rolled along with a soft hum.

“Flashlight..flashlight—” she said, bringing her backpack to the front of her and pulling out said object, “—shit!” And she just remembered, it needed new batteries. 

Yasmin pulled out the dead batteries and tossed them on the ground, put the useless tool back in her bag, took a deep breath, then entered the vent, letting the conveyor belt carry her. 

Immediately, when it was just the building settling, or an object in the distance falling, or something not totally fucked up or evil or anything her imagination was trying to convince her it was, she just shuddered and jumped at every bit of noise. “No, no…” That’s a good thing. She went from the murmur of her voice to her thoughts, back and forth. “No…” I need someone here. “It—it’s probably someone, someone—” Someone’s here, they’re all here, somewhere. Down there. “Here. There. People, they’re people—” They’re just people. Like you. 

A scream burned through the tunnel. 

She desperately tried to ignore it, but Yasmin knew that the thundering thumps banging against the walls were not from the building settling; there was a rhythm to them, from something fast, something desperate, something alive. 

The conveyor belt continued carrying her to whatever destination was held at the end. Yasmin felt her feet plant themselves to the wet, hardened threads, her insides becoming cold, stiff, her breath hitching to a halt — What was that?

Another scream — another guttural, horrifying scream, the thumping was all over the place now, from seemingly miles above to right beside her ear, it sounded more like someone was crawling up against the walls, back and forth and up and down, teeth barred and ready to strike at anything that dared moved a muscle and that’s why she didn’t dare to move, as one sharp inhale, one creak against the belt, one slight shuffle, and anything could burst through those black walls and grab her—

Yasmin hadn’t realized she was curled up in a ball until she came tumbling out of the tunnel, flying from darkness and thrown into light, plummeting harshly onto the cold, hard ground. 

Thankfully, her bag broke her fall, somewhat — her head throbbed, but she kept still just in case that thing was nearby. Then, when silence coddled her, she removed her arms from her head and let out the breath she was holding. 

A loud thump. And another, and another, and another, until there was a series of poundings raging from where she just came from.

Her eyes instantly flew up to three holes, where she probably came out from, and searched for any signs of movement, then decided that it wasn’t the best idea to literally wait for the giant-creature-thing to come and kill her, so she got up on her feet and searched around the room for any place to hide.

Three giant machines with an even bigger Make-a-Friend sign above them, with the same conveyor belt she was just on stretching in and out through their funny cartoon mouths and into another closed vent entrance. Somehow, they were all chugging away. 

Nostalgia washed over her, but staying alive sounded better than reminiscing. Yasmin ran over and jumped to the other side of the belt, making her way behind the machines. The thumping noises were getting closer. This isn’t good enough, she thought. Somewhere. Anywhere else, anywhere!

Her eyes searched again, and behind guardrails stared back an ocean of fog and pipes, not a hint of any sort of end to be seen. As Daddy said, this place was a country. And for such a stupid reason.

Screams hurled closer, but they didn’t stop her from inching to the guardrails and looking over — to her luck and misfortune, a long, thick pipe extended underneath her gaze, right up against the wall. And misfortune, because another kind of anxiety welled up inside her the more she gazed into the descending fog.

“I CAN HEAR YOU!” that thing inside the wall cried. 

No time to think about heights. Yasmin flew one leg over the guardrail, making sure her grip on the rail was as tight as possible, then swung her other leg over, and ever so very carefully — do not even THINK about how far down this place goes, don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it — she stepped down onto the pipe, the tip of her shoe testing its strength. Once she deemed it strong enough, she planted her foot down, turned around, planted her other foot, and carefully slid onto her bum.

And she waited. Frustrated yelling, from something that sounded like a woman as she just now realized, grew more and more, along with the hurried thumping, until—

CRASH!

Something barged into the room. 

Something large, long, heavy. Breathing — it, or she, maybe, released heavy breaths, as if she’s been running about in this ginormous place for a while. In the corner of her eye, Yasmin saw a shadow, a spindly one, with long limbs it was using to crawl around attached to some weird, bouncy circles. 

Nostalgia poked at her again. I know you… Another monstrous crash silenced her urge to see who it was. Never mind, I never met you in my life.

“Miss Poppy…” the thing said in the voice of a predator desperate for prey. “I heard you. You sound like you’re in trouble. Do you need Mommy to come and help you?”

After some thinking, that voice became recognizable. Ohhhh… you. Yasmin mentally punched herself for being annoyed. It’s not her fault she’s like that!

‘Mommy’ let out another furious shout. “Do you KNOW how much trouble you’re putting me in, DOLL?” ‘Mommy’ screamed. “You just can’t make this easy, can you? You think being stuck in that itty-bitty case is horrible? You don’t even know what he’ll do to me if— if I—”

Another crash. The pipe shook. Yasmin nuzzled herself further up against the wall. Her vision began blurring with tears, her heartbeat almost as loud as that woman—girl, toy—whoever.

She heard ‘Mommy’ take a deep, shaky breath. “Just— just, just, just— just,” she interrupted herself with a nervous laugh, “come to me. Just come to me, come to Mommy, it’s okay.” Her voice moved throughout the room until it was right above Yasmin. The human woman covered her lips with her hands, squeezing her eyes shut. “I won’t hurt you. I just need you to— to, to…”

‘Mommy’ fell silent. Yasmin didn’t open her eyes, but she let tears fall down her face. Her stomach twisted in knots, and her limbs could barely stand still. Is she in front of me? 

A much louder clash erupted from above, forcing her eyes to open. A series of bangs and crashes and screams hurled about, metal pitted against metal, deafening her ears. At one point, one of the machines was thrown down, inches away from her, tumbling down into the abyss below. It went on for so, so long.

And then, it all stopped. Yasmin heard ‘Mommy’ gasp, taking in every breath, and threw down another metal thing. “You…you FOOL OF A CHILD!” She heard something else, like she had forced a door open, and went back inside the walls, the sounds of pounding following her deep in the factory’s skin.

Yasmin kept still for a very long time, not moving until she was sure all that was left were the ominous creaks of pipes settling.

She uncovered her mouth. “...Meebit-” she mumbled, then quickly covered her mouth again. Nothing. Then again, her voice was so quiet, she barely heard it herself. So she kept still for a few more minutes (or hours, more likely), until she was completely, one hundred percent sure. 

And yet, after enduring all that, Yasmin stood up, and the slight twitch of her foot made her lose her balance. “Wait— fuck, NO—!” Her hand reached out for the guardrail, but she had already started to fall deep into the foggy abyss below. 

~

A little while later, in that packaging room, the useless batteries continued to lie abandoned. 

Then, a vent door opened, and out came a clawed hand. It struggled to pick them up at first, but after a bit, it managed to hold both. 

It retreated into the vent. The door closed after it sank into the darkness.

Chapter Text

“Keep her alive, hm?” His eyes watched as the new germ plummeted down into the depths. Even behind the fogginess of the security camera footage, the way her body flung around as she collided with the pipes was as clear as day. “Seems like she can’t even do that herself.”

A pathetic sight — the girl had finally landed on one of the factory’s many blackened intestines. Lucky for her, it wasn’t powered, so he had a clear sight of her, limp and presumably, lifeless. 

He zoomed in. “You came all this way, and for what?” He scanned her body, taking in every detail of her broken face. “Now, what’s this?”

That skin tone, those almond-shaped eyes, even the way her brows curled in the same way as his did — “You must be Elijah’s child…”

The memories came flooding back. Not really of him, he was never nearly remarkable enough to spare a second thought; all he could remember was how his face twisted in fear when he saw his daughter behind the glass, with him. It, rather. 

Once again, not remarkable. In fact, he was more surprised that a creature with such low intelligence, even as young as she was, could be related to those who made history. Well, helped those who made history; Elijah was hardly an assistant. 

But for what he lacked in notability, and for what she lacked in basic common sense, she made up for in allowing their process to have been so much easier. 

An idea struck him.

“Perhaps there is still some use for you, little flower.” A glowing pink radiated against his screen, tendrils flicking out from his sides. “You’re not allowed to die just yet.”

~

Warmth flooded through every inch of Yasmin’s nerves. Through a stroke of an atom, then another, then another, building on top of each other, reaching cells to muscle, to blood and to veins, it slithered over fibers and muscles and skin and hair—

And then she woke up. The agony that burned her body ablaze until inevitable unconsciousness was gone.

She sat up, covered in pink goo. 

“...Ew-? Ew, what...? EW!” Yasmin covered her mouth once she remembered the ‘Mommy’ creature-person might still be around, unwillingly caking her lips in the goo. 

No, no wait. I fell. 

Then, she got a terrible thought, and slowly looked over her shoulder and down, “HOLY shit-!” Her heart froze at the sight of her legs being inches away from a rail-less edge. She sat on another conveyor belt, amongst the sea of fog and neglected pipes that dug deeper into the abandoned factory.

A large thudding noise occurred in the distance, and when nothing came from it, she was almost embarrassed at the way she instantly jumped and yelped. I fell… she repeated in her head, then looked up. Just fog and pipes. 

How far down did I go? The last thing she remembered was the sounds of bones against metal, harsh cracks ringing through her ear with each impact before she hit her head on…something. That went on for — she couldn’t recall too well — probably about five minutes while she was conscious. 

Yasmin lifted her arms and swung them in circles, careful not to offset her balance. She could have sworn that terrible cracking noise came from her right arm, and yet, no amount of movement alarmed any painful shock. 

“Okay, cool, not dead,” she mumbled, rubbing the remaining goo off her lips. “But also, what— what the hell—”

Her memory was certainly atrocious, but she sure would remember packing some pretty-pink-colored gooey essence that could revive someone like some video game healing item. So, I fell, broke every bone in my body, and now someone—

Someone could be watching her. 

Yasmin almost choked on her own spit the second she realized that, and honestly, that should’ve been the first thing she thought of. Someone’s watching me. Right now.

She whirled her head around, trying to spot anything that could resemble a camera, or even a crack in a pipe or wall that some creepy thing could be spying on her through. But nothing of the sort caught her attention. 

Still, I need to get out of here. 

After checking if her bag remained on her back (it did), Yasmin carefully got on her hands and knees, begging herself not to focus too much on the void below her. The belt wasn’t too thin, she could still walk on it, and she’ll be okay. I’m gonna fall again and die. And if I don’t, I’m gonna attract something big and insane and dangerous because I cannot keep my mouth shut. She couldn’t help but mumble that last bit.

Her hand slipped and slid onto the edge, and there must’ve been some sort of loose scrap of metal, because a long burn suddenly pierced her palm, almost forcing another yelp. Yasmin squeezed her eyes shut and bit her tongue, then brought her hand back over to her so it wouldn’t be dangling above the nothingness, and the first thing she felt was it being submerged into the goo. 

Then, the absolute weirdest sensation went from the wound and up her arm. Yasmin trembled, shuddering immediately before calming down to a familiar warmth embracing her injured palm. She brought that hand up to her face and witnessed her own skin weaving itself back together with the help of the bits of pink goo. It looked like it was molding itself to appear as new skin, her new skin, and joining in with its new home. 

Cool… Yet, little excitement poked at her chest. It was hard to describe what she felt in that moment — her heart hammered too loudly to take in any other feeling than pure anxiety bordering on panic. Tense shoulders, a tense jaw, worsening her already sensitive bones, tense everything just to keep her focused enough to keep it together. Too much had happened so fast, and knowing this place, it was only the beginning.

The pain was gone, just like that. She stared at her new hand in awe; some extra goo drooped down to her wrist. It kinda looked good… Without giving it much of a thought, Yasmin took a quick lick.

…Sour. Spicy. And another taste she couldn’t describe, but it didn’t matter if she did because it’d never erase the fact that this was the worst thing that a tongue could ever taste (and she fell asleep in cat food once). Why did I do that?

Yasmin spat out what little goo remained in her mouth, gagged, then perked up at an idea. She brought her backpack in front of her and opened up one of the pockets, then took out a small water bottle and put as much pink goo into it as she could fit. 

She wiped off the tears streaming down her face and crawled toward the vent door. Maybe I can find a way to force this open-?

It opened. It opened all on its own. Yasmin looked behind her, and no one was there but the rest of the goo dripping off the sides of the belt, but someone was there, making their eyes crawl over every inch of her skin, planning to do something, leading her to somewhere they wanted her to go, but who? Who? Who?

But there was nowhere else to go; it was either the vent or staying on that belt until the metal rots and collapses in on itself, and she can’t afford taking a chance on her creepy stalker/potential murderer/maybe savior(?) taking pity on her a second time. 

Yasmin held her breath and dove back into the darkness, jumping at the sound of the vent door slamming shut behind her the second she stood up. 

Pitch black — the floor lights didn’t work here, not all of them, some just flickered on and off, most were just snuffed out completely. And was the last vent this cramped? The first steps she took were the hardest; inching forward in a cramped tunnel with a musty, lemon-y scent hitting her in the most unpleasant way possible. 

Her thoughts didn’t make it any better either. They’re in here. Whoever’s watching me. They’re up ahead, and they’re gonna come at me at any second. Yasmin moved at a turtle’s pace, but she didn’t care. Maybe moving so slowly could make the stalker bored and move on to someone else. Or just save themselves the trouble and come straight to her instead, and thinking about that only made her move more slowly.

She held her backpack in front of her, hoping it would serve as some kind of shield. Of course, this didn’t offer much security — everything inside her continued pulsating and rushing way too fast to let her legs move properly. Her stomach ate itself.

Parts of the wall began to disappear. Yasmin’s tingling fingertips moved along the tunnel’s cold steel to keep herself from passing out, until her hand suddenly sank into the darkness; once, then twice, then too many times for her to feel comfortable with. 

Then, footsteps started to echo from within one of the extra tunnels. As soon as she heard the soft pitter-patter of, something— something small? Long? Whatever it was, it was WAY too fast — she broke into a sprint, not caring if her footsteps and gasping and whimpering were too loud, this is what she gets for being too slow, and frankly, thinking this factory was even a safe place to come back to after what he told her—

Lee, I can’t do this. Yasmin pumped her arms in an attempt to move faster. Instead, she tripped and fell on her face. I wish you were here. 

Something touched her, on her side. She didn’t leave another moment to think; she just screamed and picked herself back up, dashing back into the tunnel. 

That something spoke behind her. “W-Wait! Hey!”

“NO GET AWAY STAY BACK-!” Yasmin screamed back, flailing her arms to get a feel for a doorway, turning into the nearest one. The tiny pitter-patter started to follow her.

“Please! You have to help me!” The voice of those little footsteps sounded like a little girl, and Yasmin was almost insulted that the universe would think she was stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trick. 

She turned another corner, and a ray of hope tempted her at the end of the vent. I have been through enough. If this place is weird enough to have some damn ‘electro shock showers,’ then they better have a room full of medieval weaponry bullshit or SOMETHING.

Before she knew it, the light engulfed her, leading her to a little room with cushions, covers, and everything soft and lovely with no self-defense materials whatsoever, and she was going to die. 

The little footsteps were coming closer — Yasmin dove behind the small wall of boxes and quickly took out her empty flashlight, her new makeshift shitty weapon. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, I—”

“NO!” 

Yasmin tossed the flashlight at the vent and ducked back behind her defense fort, and judging by the silence after the pathetic thud, it’s safe to assume she missed. 

Tiny footsteps paced around the room and came close to her wall of safety. “...Um…you dropped this,” the voice said. 

Yasmin slowly began to unzip her bag with one hand and used the other to reach over the box she hid behind. “Can I have it back?”

She heard the voice grunt, then felt the flashlight land in her hand, yelled, “Thanks, and FUCK YOU-!” and threw it back at whatever else was in the room with her.

“Can you stop trying to throw things at me?!” The creature took a moment to have a deep breath, then spoke again. “Listen, I won't hurt you, I promise,” they said in a gentle, most obvious I’m-gonna-betray-you-later tone of voice Yasmin has ever heard. 

She put her hand inside her bag and on her pepper spray and rose from her hiding place, finger on the trigger and right in front of her… target…

Her five-year-old-looking target, with the saddest pair of pigtails she’s seen in a long time. 

“Oh,” Yasmin said, slowly dropping her hand to her side. The girl, at least on the outside, was the definition of vulnerable: a porcelain doll resembling a human child born to make anyone who lays eyes on her go “Aww!” and treat her like the smallest bit of wind could snap her in twain; at least that’s what she probably used to look like. Right now, the little doll’s red pigtails drooped like wilted flowers, straightened with bits of hair sticking out. Her pitiful eyes were horrifically bloodshot, with blue irises bathing in a sea of red, and her lighter-blue dress had rips and tears disrupting the elegance it had. 

She was also very short.

“Man, you really aren’t gonna hurt me. You’re like one inch tall,” she blurted out. That sounded a lot meaner than she meant it to be. “Wait—”

The girl’s pitiful expression was quick to change to an offended one. “Did you really need to point that out?”

“I’m sorry, that was just the first thing I noticed about you!” Yasmin said, stepping forward. “Seriously, I’m sorry…” 

The doll blinked her unimpressed eyes, then took another, quicker, deeper breath. “Okay, let’s start over. Do you…” Her gaze darted around, like she was trying to find the words to say. “Do you know who I am? Do you know what this place is?”

Yasmin walked a little more towards her and crouched down to her left. “First question, no. But you do look like if Raggedy Ann wasn’t disgusting.”

“...Thanks?”

“You’re welcome.” Yasmin smiled and sat down completely. “Second question, yes.”

The girl’s eyes widened, and she stepped a little closer to her, raising her delicate little hand. “Are you an orphan?” she said.

“Nope.”

She lowered her hand, drawing it back to her chest. “Did you work here?” Her tone went from tooth-achingly sweet to a strange, ominous one, matching the abrupt hostility that spawned in her expression.  

Yasmin flinched at the change. “No, not that either, but my dad did. And I pretty much hate him for it.”

The girl’s face softened, but she didn’t speak. Didn't look too willing to trust her yet, either, not that she blamed her.

“My name’s Yasmin. What’s yours?”

Observing her figure, the girl’s shoulders visibly released a bit of tension. “Poppy.” 

Is that your real name? Yasmin’s lips moved along with some of the words of what she thought, but didn't speak them. But it was a good name.

“It’s nice to meet you!” she said, hoping Poppy didn’t notice her lips moving before, and held out a hand for her to shake. “Sorry again for— for what I said before… And throwing things at you, I thought you were some sort of creature that was mimicking the voice of a child to make me trust you.”

It took Poppy a good minute for her to slowly reach back in and grab two of her fingers, gently lifting them up and down, and it was like she shook hands with an ice cube. 

“S-So,” Poppy started, “did you come here looking for him? Your dad? Because…” Her face fell. “I don’t think…”

“I figured, with that whole Hour thing.”

Poppy perked up, surprised. “How much do you know?”

Yasmin gazed at her for a second, then took off her backpack and sighed, finally feeling like she could relax. Although that pitch-black open vent wasn’t giving her much comfort, she tried to keep herself from looking at it. “Enough to feel worse about trying to hit you. I’m sorry… I know I already said that, but I feel bad.” 

Once the panic had settled down, guilt crept up inside her. No matter how long it’s been since she last came here, no matter what happened or what they did or how scary some of them may seem now, nothing erased the fact that they were all victims of a sick dream. “It’s…been a while since I’ve talked with someone,” she said, “so I’m glad you’re here, Poppy.”

The redhead smiled, then went over to sit down right next to her. Strands of hardened (and hopefully fake) hair brushed up against her arm along with the cold whisper from her ceramic skin. 

“I haven’t spoken to anyone in a long time either. Not like this. So, I’m glad you’re here too,” Poppy said, looking up at Yasmin. “And don’t worry about the whole flashlight thing.” She giggled. “Your aim was way off.”

Yasmin giggled along with her, but dread clouded her stomach, twisting it shamefully. Okay, well, I’m glad I didn't hit you, but now if something chases us, you’re gonna have to be the one handling offense. She mostly thought that as a joke. Mostly. 

Poppy stopped laughing, letting her face make another frown. “I’m sure you have a reason to be afraid, if you’ve made it all the way down here.”

“Yeah, about that—” ‘Mommy’s’ screams echoed through Yasmin’s head again, causing a shudder to run down her spine. “I ran into someone, a woman, earlier. I mean, I don’t even know how long ago, but when I ran into her, she was screaming and throwing things and…mentioned you.”

Poppy squeezed her eyes shut, and Yasmin noticed that her hands started trembling. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She turned to her and raised her hand, but didn’t know what else to do.

“I…” Poppy inhaled sharply. “I need your help. That woman, she’s— she’s after me. She’s been trying to look for me for a long time, and I can’t, I can’t—” And a series of hyperventilating breaths interrupted her.

Oh god, wait, uh— Yasmin was frozen in place with a panicking girl right in front of her, when she should probably do something. But what should I do??

Poppy’s eyes kept darting to the vent, as if something would come of it at any second. Yasmin made a note of that and reached for her. 

Poppy whimpered and scooted away, gazing at her hands in fear. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I won’t hurt you, alright? Nothing here’s going to hurt you,” Yasmin said.

“B-But— I—” She couldn’t look away from the vent now. 

In the corner of her eye, Yasmin spotted her former wall of defense and got an idea, then stood up. Poppy watched as she moved one of them to the vent entrance, covering its bottom half, then went over to the other one and put that one on the first. The vent practically disappeared. 

This seemed to calm down Poppy just a little bit, as her breaths started to sound a little more controlled. “Thank you…” she said, looking down at her lap. 

Yasmin went back over and sat in front of her. “Do you want a hug, by any chance?” 

Popped glanced up at her with an unreadable expression.

“Whenever I get sad, a hug sorta helps me feel better. I mean, I know that doesn’t apply to everyone cause I know different people have, like, mixed reactions to touch, especially when they’re overwhelmed, but like—”

She shut up when she felt Poppy hop onto her lap and held onto her chest. She shook like a traumatized puppy, and soon, hiccups and muffled whimpers vibrated against Yasmin’s chest. Her shirt became wet with tears. 

Yasmin wrapped her hands around Poppy’s back and patted her gently. “It’s okay, you’re okay. Nothing here’s gonna hurt you anymore. I’ll make sure that won’t happen,” she whispered to her, despite what her thoughts said. I’ll try my best, but I really can’t guarantee it, considering I almost died earlier. And that was when I had to take care of myself. Hopefully, this girl wouldn’t be put in more danger just because she was there now. 

After a while of quiet sobbing and reassurance, Poppy walked off her lap and wiped her tears away. 

“I-I’m sorry. I just…” She turned around and took another deep breath; probably the only tactic she knew to keep herself calm. Then, she turned back around and sat on the floor again, tightening her grip on the hem of her dress. “I was stuck in a case for… God, I don’t know, a really long time. And then, about a month ago, someone came to free me, but just as we were about to leave, that woman, Mommy Long Legs,” — it took everything in Yasmin to keep her from laughing at that ridiculous name when it’s such a serious moment — “she…she took me, and then tried to get them to play some sort of game with her. She locked me up somewhere, and— and I freed myself, but… when I went to look for them, I…”

Poppy stopped for a second, and when Yasmin was about to reassure her to take another break, she forced herself to keep talking. “I saw her. She— she was eating them, her and some of the other toys she’s keeping around.”

Oh, good, there’s more of them. If she didn’t have a little girl to take care of now, she would’ve started crying too. And they eat people. How nice.

Poppy continued. “I ran away, as long as I could. A-And, she started chasing after me, and I think I know why…” Her breath had begun sounding off again. “I just kept running and running, and I found this place to hide in, she hasn’t found it yet, but— but I’m afraid she will, and—!” She held her breath, desperate to keep another round of tears down, then exhaled. 

Yasmin scooted closer to her. “That’s alright, you don’t need to say anymore,” she said, hoping those were the right words to say. 

But Poppy shook her head. “No, no, you… You need to know this if we’re gonna get out of here.”

Yasmin winced. Oh, well, about that—

“She’s working with someone far below the factory, under his instruction to find me and put me back in that case: The Prototype.” Poppy’s face turned dark, a stark contrast to the scared little girl who was crying in her chest just a few moments ago. “I’m guessing you know about him, too?”

Yasmin blinked. “Um, no.”

Poppy’s dramatic expression quickly warped into confusion, her nose scrunching up and eyes squinting. “What?”

“Never heard of him.”

“Wait, so you know about the Hour of Joy—”

“Uh-huh.”

“—the day when all the experiments killed every innocent and guilty person within the factory—”

“Yeahhh.”

“—And you’re also aware of the experimentation and Playtime’s scientific organization and them taking Playcare’s orphans to become their test subjects—”

“All those big words, yep.”

“—And you don’t know about The Prototype? The man who organized the entire massacre?”

Yasmin cocked her head. “I’m gonna be honest, I thought you guys just snapped one day and got lucky enough to get every single person here. The only reason I know about the title was that that’s what my friend called it.” Her heart leaped at the thought of his face. “And even then, I thought he was just making up a conspiracy theory…”

It took her a moment to let Poppy’s words sink in.

“...Wait, the who did the what, he ORGANIZED that whole thing!?” Yasmin yelled.

Poppy jumped. “Please, keep your voice down!”

“Shit, sorry—!” 

They both looked at where the vent was covered. When nothing moved from the other side, they relaxed. 

“Yes, all that death,” Poppy balled her hand into a fist, “it all came from him. It was meant to be for our freedom, but now, if anyone tries to reach any sort of exit, they’re as good as dead. As long as he lives, we’re stuck here.”

Yasmin swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. Lee, please be okay.

“So, what does he want with you?” she asked.

Poppy hesitated for a second. “Like I said, he stops anyone who tries to leave this place, and that includes me.” And she didn’t say anything else.

That’s…a little vague. Yasmin narrowed her eyes — the girl had this look in her eye and a twitch in her face. She’s seen those exact looks and twitches before, when she had to stay with other people just to survive the outside. She almost opened her mouth to say something, until a thought stopped her. We just met, of course, she’s not gonna tell me everything. Besides, she’s been through hell. 

Whether she was lying or not, she knew better than to just leave her here. Plus, it sounded like she knew her way around this place far better than Yasmin did. “Well, for right now, how’s about we catch our breath? Let’s relax for a little bit.” 

Poppy gazed at her wide eyes. “Oh! Uh, yes, yeah, we should do that.”

Yasmin smiled at her and lay on the ground. As soon as her head relaxed on the hard floor, her eyelids felt like bulky dumbbells, and sleep came sooner than she thought.

~

A terrible stomachache woke her from a dream about giant insects and floating, burning trees. The rest she forgot about quickly with the way her intestines curled in on each other — that had to be what they were doing, otherwise, what the hell is going on?

Yasmin groaned and held her abdomen, her eyes still squeezed shut. She could’ve sworn her period ended a few days ago, so this couldn't be another middle finger from Mother Nature. 

Poppy’s voice rang in her head, “Yasmin? Are you okay?” 

It was too faint for her to think it was real, so she just bit her bottom lip — like her ribs made hands and started twisting her organs around their fingers, curling and squelching from inside, slowly making their way up her throat. That’s the worst part — it was all so slow, forcing her to eat up every second.

“Yasmin!” 

She snapped awake, and like being woken up from a bad dream, it was gone. “Huh—?” She sat up.

Poppy was in front of her, face filled with worry. “You were making noises in your sleep, it sounded like a nightmare… Are you alright?”

At that point, the pain was long gone. Yasmin wasn’t even sure if it was real to begin with. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. What about you?”

Poppy grinned a little. “It feels like the first time I was truly able to relax in a while.”

Yasmin beamed and stood up, swinging her back on her shoulder.

The little redhead walked closer to her. “We’ll have to go deeper below.”

“What?”

“To the GameStation,” Poppy clarified.

“Oh! The one where that train is?” Yasmin said.

“Yes. We’ll be able to access the exit once we get it up and running — and that’s the thing. It’s out of commission.”

Yasmin’s stomach dropped, and she was afraid that it was gonna start twisting in on itself again.

“Mommy, she destroyed the train,” Poppy continued. “To keep me here… But now you’re here! You can fix it!”

Umm, what makes you think I can fix a train?? I can’t even remember to keep my flashlight batteries restocked. It’d be terrible of her to say that in front of such a hopeful gaze, so Yasmin just nodded her head and gave the best fake smile she could muster. 

“After that, we’ll leave this place behind for good. Now, let’s get going.” Poppy made her way to the boxes like she was gonna move them herself, then looked back at Yasmin. “Um, could you…?”

Yasmin began taking down the boxes, silently begging that nothing was behind them, waiting to take them both by surprise. She really is small; her mind wandered when she caught a glance at the young doll. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for her trying to get through this place. Shame coursed through her again as she thought back to her fall. If we run into her, the only thing I know we can do is hide, and she practically has this place wrapped around her finger, it sounds like. She removed the box at the bottom, and when she crouched down to hold out a hand for Poppy to climb on her shoulders, the girl had already raced up her arm as if commanded by her own instincts. Poppy held onto her t-shirt and black curls tightly, already getting comfortable. They both began entering into the vent, the light leaving their skin.  

I’ll have to be careful walking with her here. Can’t be too fast. But what if we have to start running? Not even a minute in, and Yasmin already felt like she had failed. I can’t let this girl die. She might be the only one I have left.

Chapter Text

“Tell me. How do you know so much about Playtime?” 

Poppy asked that question after 15 minutes of tense silence. Throughout that time, no distant thumping or anguished cries were hurdling around in the metal tunnels, so a little conversation couldn’t hurt.

Yasmin adjusted her arm to keep the support of her new friend. “Well, for one, my dad worked here.”

“Yes, you told me that. But what they did with the orphans, the Hour — I’d understand if you were an employee or even an orphan, but…” Poppy trailed off.

Metallic stench of medicine and chemicals tickled Yasmin’s nose for a second. It was like she could hear the taps of black shoes against white tiles again, and then the orphan’s excited shouts just a moment later. She remembered how the fake underground sun lit up her skin and was almost as warm as the real thing. 

“Playtime was a big part of my childhood growing up,” she said, relishing the company’s commercial jingle that started playing in her mind. “I always wanted to come here, the factory. A lot of my friends bragged about how their parents took them, and I thought it was unfair that I didn’t, since Daddy worked at the place. I kept pestering him and pestering him, until he finally gave in.”

“Did he tell you what he did here?” Poppy asked, using that weird tone she had earlier.

Yasmin grimaced. “Nope, never — he was under strict rule not to. I learned why when—”

“Shh!!”

Upon that command, she hushed. The porcelain doll crawled from her shoulder and to the top of her head, inching closer to the gaping maw of the next hallway. Yasmin listened in with her. 

Through the quiet, a familiar thumping noise raged. Thankfully, it wasn’t too loud, and it was only growing further away, but a sinking engulfed her stomach when she predicted what Poppy would say next.

“We’ll have to follow her,” the redhead said.

No the hell we won’t! Yasmin almost said, but responded with this instead, “Why? I think you should know better than both of us that she’s not friendly!”

“But she is the one who knows how to get back to the train station,” Poppy argued. “She’s been going back and forth from the first and second floor since I escaped, and you did say you saw her when we first came here, right?”

“Yeah…” Yasmin preemptively gave up arguing back and inched into the tunnel. Another question popped into her head — she wanted to ask her why they couldn’t just find their way back up to the first floor and go from there? The Prototype is probably why, like an anyone comes in but no one can go out type thing, unless it’s that train. Another thing stopped her from asking too.

Nothing but the roaring sounds of destruction carried them through the darkness. With each step forward, Yasmin wanted to turn tail and run back into that safe haven, but her body ran on autopilot. It didn’t matter if she didn’t know it was going to be this bad, and it doesn’t matter if she would die in the next few hours, minutes, or seconds. Feeling Poppy’s trembling figure was a reassurance she thought she’d never feel again.

It’s also what made her organs twist into knots, metaphorically this time. The little doll was acting brave, but her terrified behavior was obvious. The only company she had for the past month was a monster, and even then, that word might be too harsh to describe her. 

They were both products of a devil’s aspirations, made here under a fake home’s blissful mask. Anyone in their right mind would want to leave. How can I tell her? Her gas mask tapped her thigh from the other side of her bag.

“Poppy?” Yasmin mumbled after what seemed to be so long following a giant toy’s tantrum. 

“Yes?”

“So…you want to leave the factory.” 

Poppy didn’t respond at first, probably to make a face that said: Well, Obviously, Are You Stupid? “Yes, what do you think we’re doing?” she said. “Isn’t that what you want, too?”

I wanted company. Yasmin gulped. “I mean… With the outside, and you being…” Just out with it, it’s mean but a lot easier to say. “Well…”

Poppy beat her to it. “I know what you’re gonna say, I heard it before. From him.”

Yasmin perked up. 

“The Prototype — he said the same thing, to all of us, how we don’t belong in the outside because of…of what we are now. But what we are doesn’t matter.” The thrashing ahead started to cool down, as if listening to what she had to say. “Every second I spend being in this place makes me sick. They already took so much. I won’t let them take anything else, not what I could’ve had by now if I were still me.”

…Welp, that whole confession might need to be delayed longer, because there’s no way Yasmin could say it now. The thrashing picked back up, stronger than ever. 

Poppy spoke again. “I know I’m asking a lot from you, and I’m sorry. But I— I don’t have anyone else, not anymore. So, thank you for this. For everything.”

“Mhmyepyou’rewelcome,” Yasmin said quickly, eloquently speaking as someone deserving of the inevitable third-act-friendship-breakup fight that’s coming to her later.

“So, you said you didn’t come here for your dad, right?” Poppy asked. “What did you come here for? Your friend?”

“Oh, Lee?” Yasmin’s eyes darted around the vent. “Yyyyeah!”

Technically, yes, I did come here with him in mind, so I’m definitely not lying, and I have no reason to feel bad for what I just said. She felt bad anyway. 

“I hate to say it, but I don’t think we should risk looking for him. I can’t say I know him, so I wouldn’t know where to start looking. Plus, we’re likely already in a lot of trouble, and…” Poppy paused. “I can’t promise you he’s alive.”

Yasmin's heart ached hearing that. The memories were foggy and every voice but his was a garbled mess — but if she can still clearly remember the way his muffled heartbeat danced with hers through that cold chestpiece, if she can still feel it right at that very moment, then he could never die. If anyone could survive through this hellhole, it’d be him. 

~

Webs smacked against their faces. 

The roaring destruction disappeared, but thin strings of sticky white glue-stuff had long accompanied them at that point. Luckily, the webs had the stickiness of a glue stick that could be found in an elementary school’s classroom, so it was practically a breeze moving through them. 

Although that also meant they were moving toward her faster than Yasmin wanted. 

She groaned as the webs caked her face and hair, her hands moving through them in a vain attempt to clean herself up. As soon as she did, she would just get covered in them all over again. It already sucked that it’d been days since her last shower, and now destiny had to make it worse. 

“Please, try to keep it down? She might still be nearby,” Poppy urged when Yasmin whined a third time — clearly she wasn’t bothered by the whole thing, with webs sticking her hair together and making her skin rise with goosebumps as every inch of it tickled against the cold substance. She hardly made a peep since they entered this spider hell. 

Doesn’t mean she’s lucky, Yasmin reminded herself. She huffed out a breath and kept her mouth shut. 

It wasn’t long before the webs came to an end, thank god. Instead came an opening, filled with light and cogs, turning and breathing life into machines that somehow still ran. The air stunk with iron and dust, pairing well with grey hallways that just pleaded for a wash. But the vents were becoming heated with their own breaths, and crawling through a space only meant for children’s toys wasn’t exactly the most comfortable. This offered a nice change of pace, for the time being. 

Now, to enact a plan Yasmin came up with. “Hey, Poppy?” she said, letting the girl down on the floor.

“Yes, what is it?” Poppy looked up at her with hair tangled in webs that wilted down to the sides of her head.

“I have an idea.” Yasmin bent down and unzipped her backpack, taking out a few things — a plastic bag with pads, useless flashlight, and the water bottle with that healing goo thingy — and put them all in the front pocket, all but the water bottle, which was apparently too big. “Shit, come on—”

“Why not put it in that pocket?” Poppy said, stepping forward a little.

“Hm?” Yasmin looked down at the free pocket on the side of the bag. “I would, but this thing’s pretty special. Plus, the pockets here are loose, and I don’t wanna risk it falling out.” She used her finger to wiggle the pocket for a visual example.

Poppy tilted her head. “There should be some employee breakrooms around here. I’m sure you can find more water there.”

“Oh, this doesn’t have water.”

“What.”

Yasmin smiled and moved closer to her, then began untwisting the top. “Yeah, so, funny story, how I came down here was from falling off the whole— what’s it called— Make-A-Friend room, or area rather it wasn’t really a room, it had this whole back wall removed with the whole rest of the factory displayed, which seems kinda dangerous I won’t lie—” She noticed that Poppy’s face was scrunched up, confused. “—Um. Anyway, I fell, and oh my god it hurt, but then suddenly it didn’t hurt anymore, and I woke up covered in this stuff.”

She opened the lid and exposed the pink goo to the light, and she could’ve sworn it pulsated. Poppy blinked at her and leaned over to see whatever she was blabbering on about. Right when her eyes landed on the goo, they went wide, slowly filling with recognition, and weirdly enough, fear. 

“That…where did you get that?” Poppy asked, backing away.

Yasmin frowned and pulled the bottle back towards her. “I didn’t really find it; it was just there. This stuff’s amazing too, it can heal wounds and everything.” She noticed the tiny crack in Poppy’s forehead, covered in a bit of dried blood. “Maybe we can—”

“Don’t.” Poppy held up her shaking hand, her face now glaring with a mix of rage and terror. “I don’t want that stuff anywhere near me. Get rid of it.”

“Why? You know what it is?” 

“Of course I do!” Poppy gasped and whirled her head toward the doorway opening, then lowered her voice when she turned back to Yasmin. “I can’t believe you— you were brought back to—?” She visibly swallowed those last bits of words. “Just get rid of it.”

Yasmin furrowed her brows and screwed the lid back on the bottle. “Is this stuff dangerous?”

“Down to every letter of the definition of that word, yes,” Poppy hissed. “Look, Mommy’s still running around here somewhere, so I don’t have time to explain it. For now, leave it here, and if you ever come across that stuff again, by all means, do not touch it.”

Yasmin stared at her, queasiness filling up her chest. “...So is eating it worse by any chance—?”

“YOU ATE IT?!”

Poppy’s hands flew to cover her mouth in an instant. Every part of Yasmin’s body tensed up, the musty air holding both her and the screaming doll as the silence soon erupted into quick, heavy thumps coming right towards them. 

“Let me in, let me in!” Poppy rushed over to Yasmin’s bag, trying to stuff herself in there. Yasmin rushed over, pulled out a jacket, and helped her in. 

“Okay, you good? Everything fits okay?” Yasmin asked, and when Poppy nodded, she carefully zipped up the backpack. “And please, for the love of god, try not to scream or say anything!”

“I wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t just tell me you were the dumbest girl ever!” Poppy shouted back from inside.

Yasmin gasped, offended. “You’re really gonna say that to someone who’s trying to save your life?”

“Out of every first reaction you could’ve given, that was it? Eating something you didn’t know?”

“Hey girlie,” Yasmin whispered, attempting to insert more venom in her voice, “in this world, you canNOT be picky when it comes to food. You know how hard it is to find any with the air so tox—?”

“And who are you speaking to, dear?” 

They both fell silent. Poppy stopped wriggling around in the bag, and underneath Yasmin’s palms, she could’ve been easily mistaken for just another doll. 

God, fuck me. She turned around to see the owner of that raspy, anything-but-endearing voice.

Pink, oversized plastic replaced the hallway’s dulling gray, but she could be called anything but a toy. Skinny limbs stretched all over her vision, towering along with the two disgustingly dirty balls that they carried, cracked with black spots and thin scratches. Some cracks formed holes in which beating organs bubbled out, salivating blood that ran over lines of the dried out liquid that managed to escape far in the past. And her face — a wide, menacing grin and bloodshot eyes, one holding a large crack in her made-for-kids face. 

Yasmin couldn’t breathe; she didn’t think she could appear more terrifying than she already was back then. The limbs kept stretching the more she approached her, and then something caught her eye. Her arm and legs heavily leaned to the left, covering up a nub where her left arm was supposed to be. The ends of the nub were sharp, as if something, or someone, ripped it off. 

It disappeared when her heaving face filled her vision. 

“Mommy asked you a question, dearie,” Mommy said, breathing heavily. 

Yasmin didn’t know what else to do other than smile a shaky grin. “No one— myself,” she lied. “I was talking to myself.”

Mommy slowly tilted her head, so far in fact Yasmin thought she was gonna snap her own neck, but it only extended, and her head curled and rolled in an inhuman motion — it was just wrong watching her do that.

“Does Mommy…know you?” she asked, her voice mutating into a deeper, haunting version of her normal motherly tone. There were red dots in her dilated irises. 

“Mmmmmmmmmmmnnnooo…” Yasmin said, her voice performing the opposite and growing higher. 

She leaned in closer, getting a good look at all the secreting sweat, tears, and pimples. The smell of iron and muck washed over her. 

Then, suddenly, Mommy’s mouth grew wider. “Oh, child! Mommy does remember you!” Her voice transformed back into that sickly sweet tone as she picked up Yasmin and spun her around gleefully, not that she picked up on that part.

“OH MY GOD NO—” Yasmin shouted, but didn’t make any attempts to escape. Her body just froze and let the giant toy-person swing her around in the air. 

“You came back! You came back!” Mommy shouted.

Another knot formed in her stomach and began crawling up inside her torso, her head starting to spin along with it. “Please let me down, I’m getting sick—”

Surprisingly, she listened and gently sat her down on the ground. Then, she circled her, parading around with a creepy grin as her eyes scanned her body, getting far too close for comfort. It reminded Yasmin of how her cats used to walk around her when she’d get home from classes, sniffing her legs to make sure it was really their human, but in their case, it was actually adorable. 

They must’ve installed a recognition software in her or something, Yasmin thought, her smile twitching. This is worse than getting eaten. 

“Oh, you’ve grown so big…” Underneath that happy tone, a bit of sadness laced with her words. Something blinked in her eyes, and Yasmin flinched when Mommy rose higher. “We have…” She paused, heaving, the smaller ball meant to represent her chest folding in on itself a little, before puffing out with a nasty pop! “...Ssso much catching up to do. Let’s go. Let’s— Let’s go.”

And with that, the giant pink toy turned around and walked down the hall, stumbling around under the blinking light and, at one point, accidentally bashing against the wall, creating a long crack within its dusty gray. She left without looking back. 

Yasmin let out a long breath and started gathering her things. “This is literally the worst thing that could happen,” she said.

Poppy’s voice perked up from the backpack. “Is she gone?” she said. 

“Yeah, and I’m gonna have to follow her,” Yasmin said. “Maybe I can find a way to the train while I’m doing that…”

“You have to,” Poppy said in a low voice. “And I just remembered: you might need a grab pack to operate the train. Do you know what that is?”

“Yeah, it’s what the employees used, right?”

“Right. Get your hands on one as soon as possible—” Haha, hand pun, Yasmin thought, “—and get your bearings. You’ll need it.”

She felt Poppy shuffle around against her back. “And whatever history you have with her,” the little doll said, “leave it in the past. Remember what I said about the last person who came here — if she finds out what you’re planning, you’ll be her next meal.”

“I figured, but thanks for the uplifting reminder.” Yasmin shuddered as she tied her jacket around her waist, and her eyes caught the water bottle. It lay on its side, but with the lid screwed tight, nothing leaked out. Embracing the light fuzziness in her chest, she went to pick it up, stuffed it in one of the jacket’s pockets, then hurried after the fake mother. 

~

Children ran all over the place. They were so loud. 

Yasmin hid up against the back wall of the playground, watching kids scream as they sprinkled the slides, swingsets, and the little merry-go-round-things with glee. Some walked near the closed gates underneath signs of some of the happy Playtime Company mascots, seeing if stomping on them could get them to open up. Her throat tightened when one of them looked like they were walking toward her. 

Gee, thanks, Dad. This is exactly what I wanted, she thought, eyeing the equipment. If she were seven years younger, she’d be glad to cause as much chaos as the rest of them. Or perhaps she should go ahead and just do that anyway — it’s not like there’s anything else for her to do.

“Are you a kid?” 

Yasmin flinched and turned to see a child, about eight or nine years old, standing above her. Ah, dammit. She held a Boogie Bot toy and wore one of those Smiling Critters cartoon shirts. Wouldn’t be a bad idea to rewatch that.

“Legally, yes,” she responded, inching away.

“What does legally mean?”

Yasmin thought for a second. “It means that a bunch of much older adults made a rule to make something a certain way, and for good reason, most of the time. Like me still being a kid.”

The young girl sat beside her, much to her discomfort, gazing at her with far too much curiosity. “You don’t look like a kid.”

“Well, not to you, I don’t. But I really—” Daddy’s voice suddenly popped in her head: “Please, try to get along with the other kids, and don’t try to stir up any issues, alright?”

Yasmin sighed and glanced over at the child, searching for anything else to talk about. “Uh, nice toy you got there.”

“Thanks!” The girl smiled and held out her plastic friend. “I get to keep him as long as I play the games here. How come you don’t have one?”

A voice rang on the intercom — Stella, in a warm voice, talked to every child who was meant to listen to her. She spoke again earlier, talking about three games every one of them needed to play, and summoned the first game. After she was done, a gate under a ‘Wack-A-Wuggy’ sign began to open up, much to the children’s joy.

All of them except for one: the kid beside her. She didn’t react to the voice; she just kept staring at Yasmin, who seethed at the petty jealousy growing within her with those runts still cheering at their privilege. 

Giving up on the option to tell her to leave her alone, she replied to the girl’s previous question, “The people here said I didn’t need one.” 

“So you’re not gonna play?”

“The games? I think that’s just for all of you younger kids.” She said that, but she could’ve sworn she saw a few kids around her age enter down those stairs. 

The girl kept staring.

“...Which means you should get going.” What did this girl want with her? “Like right now.”

Then, a pair of little arms wrapped around her. Yasmin groaned with dissatisfaction and almost shoved her off when Daddy’s words interrupted her again. “What are you doing—”

“Whenever I’m sad, a hug makes me feel better,” the girl said. 

A string of guilt tugged at her heartstrings, and Yasmin relaxed a little. I’m not sad! she wanted to say. But I guess now I know why Mom always tells me I look like it.

The little girl pulled away and stood up, about time. “I can ask Mommy to let you play games with us!”

“Mom— Mommy, who? What?” Yasmin stumbled out. “Like, Mommy Long Legs? The pink bi— girl?”

“Yeah! She’s in charge of all the games here. She’s super nice. I’ll ask her if you want.”

So they got mascots running around here, huh? Yasmin straightened her back and looked at the large group of kids gathering at the entrance to the next game. I don’t see the problem in letting me in, either; I don’t even think it’s just for the younger kids. And it’s Daddy’s fault for dropping me somewhere nobody wants me playing around in when I said I wanted to see ALL of this place!

Yasmin narrowed her eyes and turned back to the girl. This ‘Mommy’ might've been just a mascot, so nothing’s likely to happen, but it wouldn’t hurt to try, right? “Yeah, I’d appreciate that. Thanks…uh—”

“Annie. What’s your name?”

“Yasmin. Thank you, Annie. You’re a nice kid.” She smiled, and Annie returned the gesture, and she watched her run over to the runt pile. 

That wasn’t so bad, Yasmin thought, leaning back against the wall. The faces of those front-desk employees appeared in her mind, how their faces scrunched up in confusion when Daddy asked for access to the GameStation, and his words rang once more soon after. Don’t blame me for causing issues when you guys are the ones making weird rules.  

A Boogie Bot toy lay in front of her, surrounded by blue, red, and yellow joy and old blood. By the way their arms sprawled out as they lay face down, they didn’t seem to have gone peacefully. 

Yasmin picked them up. Mommy was rambling about something, but after spotting the corpse, she tuned her out and laid them on a bench under a working light. 

She turned around — there were no other toys in sight, giving her a touch of relief. Mommy kept going on and on about how the GameStation remained functional so they could “get back to playing,” but while that might’ve been true, one look at the place was enough to scare anyone away. 

A shell of its former glory, the GameStation sat beaten, with cracks spanning the walls and floors and dirty footprints belonging to small shoes bruising the tile. Blood patches and splatter lay everywhere, including against some of the broken playground equipment coated with dust and cobwebs. An old stench of iron hung in the air, as if whoever had the displeasure of this being their last sight was still here, roaming a child’s nightmare. 

Yasmin thought of Annie’s smile. She was so nice.

“SO!” Mommy suddenly appeared in front of her, causing her to jump and screech. “What would you like to do first, sweet thing? Mommy has—  has so many ideas of what we could do!” She let out a breathless wheeze.

Is one of them the Great Personal Space Game cause I’d really like to play that rig— She saw it, the train, right behind her, farther back in the GameStation. 

The train was ruined — the caboose was completely on its side with black muck staining a majority of its blue and yellow paint, as if it had caught fire a long time ago. Its remaining cars were upright, but were painted with scratches and dents. To make things worse, the poor punching bag lay in front of a deep wall of spiderwebs, spanning so far back in the tunnel where it used to freely chug through, Yasmin couldn’t see any kind of an ending. 

Poppy. Annoyance twisted at her insides, making them throb worse than they had been earlier. You expect me to fix THIS?

She returned her gaze to Mommy, who had somehow gotten closer. “Uhm… Can we uh, uh—” 

Her backpack twitched impatiently. Yeah, yeah, I know! Give me a second!

“Yyyesss…?” Mommy said, drool running down her chin. 

“M-Musical Memory!” she blurted out. “Yes, that— I always liked that game. A-And can I— may I have a grabpack thingie? Y’know, since it’d probably be easier for me to…uh…”

Mommy stared at her, her face frozen with that bone-chilling, cheerful expression. Then, the silence was broken with a loud stomach growl — Yasmin almost keeled over for how it stabbed a new sharp agony through her lower waist (What is going on with me?), and she looked back at Mommy’s stomach.

“Are you…feeling okay?” she asked. Now that it was brought up, Poppy did say Mommy has been running around looking for her for over a month, so how many times was she able to eat during a period where she constantly burned a lot of calories? In fact, why hasn’t she said anything about Poppy at all?

“MmfineMmommy’s fine, dear,” Mommy said in a slurred voice. 

“...Okay, well—”

“Musical Memory it is!” Energy suddenly sprang back into the pink human-toy’s demeanor, and she wrapped an arm around Yasmin’s waist. The human woman gagged at the new pressure put on her abdomen. “Oh, we’ll have so much fun—!” 

Mommy stopped dead in her tracks and carefully sat Yasmin down, then gave her the blankest stare.

“Is something wrong?” Yasmin asked, slowly backing away.

“What is your name, child?” Mommy said. 

“What?”

“Your name. Your—” The pink woman glanced around the area, then back to her, hunching over as she stepped closer. “I— Mommy, Mommy can’t remember your name, ch-child. Mommy knows your face, but not your name. Please tell me your name.”

Yasmin felt something — some sort of odd mix of pity, dread, something else? She couldn’t figure it out, but she knew it wasn’t fear anymore. Not towards her. “Yasmin,” she said. “That’s my name.”

Mommy smiled again, but it wasn’t nearly as joyful as her last one. “Thank you! Yas-meen…” she muttered, pronouncing it wrong (although that was the least of her issues). “It—” Mommy wrapped her only arm around the smaller human and picked her back up. “Mommy’s so sorry. It’s been so long since you children came here. I th— Mommy thought she’d never see you again! She…she…”

She dropped her. Yasmin gasped and barely had enough time to react to land properly, and ended up falling on her butt anyway. 

“What was I doing?” Mommy said. 

Yasmin shot her head up. Her voice, it was different this time — it shifted from the idealistic motherly tone into a garbled, cracking voice that somehow sounded much more human; specifically, a high-pitched voice of a woman pretending to be who she once was. 

“What?” Yasmin said.

Mommy continued staring off into space. “Looking for someone, I was— I’m— who am I looking for?” Heavy breaths started heaving in and out of her mouth. “I have to…M… He’ll, I can’t just stop, I can’t…”

“UH!” Yasmin shouted that a bit too loudly than she meant it to be, but at least it startled the human-toy out of her weird trance. “Musical Memory! That’s what you were doing! You were setting that up for us to play!”

“Musical—? No, I can’t,” Mommy insisted. “I’m, he said… What did he say?”

“You probably shouldn't think about that, um, uh— I said that…” Yasmin trailed off, then stood up and stepped closer to her. “I really, really missed you, M…Mommy. And I just can’t wait to spend more time with you, here…right now, preferably.” 

The backpack twitched again. Poppy, I’m seriously doing my best here.

Mommy stared, and stared, and stared, her small eyes trembling at her, until they grew back to the widest they could be. 

“Right!” she said, back in her other ‘Mother’ voice. “Of course! Mommy needs to set that up right away! Now, be a good child and stay right here. It— It will only take a second.”

With pep in her step, she patted Yasmin on the head and crawled onto the ceiling, then headed right into a section far from the main floor and disappeared behind a dark wall. The sounds of her moving faded into the distance. 

Yasmin gagged again and held onto her stomach. Universe, you might as well kill me right now, because I don’t think I can do this. It felt like her organs were rubbing up against her torso’s muscles, squirming like maggots. She ignored it and went over toward the train, observing it a bit before setting down her backpack.

Poppy’s head popped out right when she unzipped it. “She’s a lot more unstable than I thought,” she said. 

Genius observation. Yasmin nodded, swallowing the sarcasm. “And on that note, there’s no way I’m fixing this train.”

The ceramic girl’s eyes widened. “What? Why?” 

“Might wanna take a look behind you.”

Poppy did as she was instructed, and when she turned back, she hung her head in shame. “I thought you’d…”

So you KNEW it looked like this? Yasmin took a deep breath. Poppy clearly appeared guilty, so she couldn’t be too mad at her. “Look, I’m sorry, I can’t fix something like this.”

“Then how are we gonna leave?” Desperation filled the young girl’s voice, and tears started to well up in her eyes again. 

Yasmin gulped, not enjoying the shame those eyes brought her. “Hey, listen, it’s gonna be okay,” she said, unsure of believing her own words. “Maybe— Maybe while I do this with Mommy, you can spy around this place and see if you can find another way?”

Poppy shrank back into the bag, her face now giving a mixture of fear and anger. “Huh?”

“I-I mean, think about it. You’re small enough to crawl through the vents in this place— y’know, spaces I can’t go to,” Yasmin said. “It’s a stretch, but this place could have all kinds of secret passages that you can get to, and sorta unlock a door or something for me, and we get out of here together!”

“No, n— no,” Poppy said firmly. 

Yasmin’s hopeful grin dropped. “Please, I promise I can keep her occupied, we’re both gonna have to take a risk here—”

But she just shook her head. “No, no, no. I can’t do that. More of those things could be crawling around!”

“What things?”

“Weren’t you listening to me?” Poppy said, gritting her teeth. “Her— her army, the little toys she controls, they could be walking about here now. I can’t do it, I-I can’t!” She sank back into the bag, forcing it to shake along with her terrified little body. 

“Poppy, I…” She had a point — more toys like Mommy could be running around, and this girl was about as fragile as dried flower petals. “I’m sorry. You can stay in here, and I’ll go look for another way out.”

Tell her, right now. No, not yet. Now is not the time. Look at her, she’s already afraid, you think now’s the time? Now was not the time.

Poppy sniffed. “Thank you. Come back as soon as you can, okay? I don’t know how much longer I can take being here.” She ducked back into the bag. 

Yasmin took it as a sign that it was time to zip the bag back up, until she got an idea. “Hey, can you hand me one of those sandwiches below your feet?”

Poppy looked up at her, then back down at herself, and dove into the back and held up one sandwich. The plastic bag it was kept in shimmered against the dull light. 

“Thanks,” Yasmin said. “And feel free to eat some too if you need to. 

Poppy didn’t really react. “Uhm, yeah, sure,” was all she said, and she ducked back into the bag. 

Yasmin shrugged off her words and zipped the bag back up, then brought it over to near the train and hid it behind some rubble. “I’ll be back, I promise,” she told Poppy.

“Don’t…” her voice whispered from the rubble. “Don’t die, Yasmin. Please.”

Yasmin smiled warmly, the pain in her stomach lifting just a bit. “I’ll try not to.”

Chapter Text

Am I doing this right? 

The walk from the main lobby to the first game was blurry, mostly because of Yasmin’s rushing headache, but also the rushing thoughts that maybe started to have a teensy bit of a point. 

You should have told her. You should have told her a long time ago.

She leaned against the wall as she walked down the steps. 

It’s sickening to let her get her hopes up like that. 

Then what should I do? Go back and tell her she might as well stay stuck here and let this place drive her nuts? 

It’s better than going back out there.

A gate, split in half, stood in her path. She breathed heavily, insides hammering against the arm she used to grip her stomach, then forced herself forward and into the space between the gates. 

It was surely a struggle, attempting to wiggle through for about five minutes before giving up and hanging slumped over, her hands dangling just barely above the ruined tile. At least I still got my chub. 

Yasmin wiggled through a few more times, then at last slipped through the space, falling headfirst. “OW—!”

She sat up, rubbing her throbbing head. There’s always that pathway, but what if she sealed that off, too? Or, I think we need a key for it… and who knows where that could be, she thought. I guess we could try forcing our way through the webs by the train like we did earlier… But the vent had a lot less, now that she compared the two, and a lot thinner, too. 

There has to be a way. The sight of Poppy’s crying face tore through her. I can figure it out. Maybe I can see if we can make a home on the outside and just stay there. If a whole factory can be sealed off, I’m sure I can work with a small cabin or a room. Yeah, we can just stay there! 

Then she’ll be trapped all over again. And you’ll still be alone. Yasmin sighed and rubbed her temples. You came here for yourself, after all.

Bunzo Bunny (man, what a ridiculous name) stared at her in cardboard form. A big red button enticed her for a second, and she almost stood up to press it, until something else caught her attention.

Heavy breathing — and not from Mommy. Something that sounded like it had two voices entangled with one another, both compressed and exhausted. Its groans struggled out of whatever mouth it came from, and when it did, a horrible tremble ran down Yasmin’s spine. 

It sounded so sad. 

The groaning came from the open doorway beside the cardboard cutout, leading to a dark room illuminated by the only light that shone down to a circular stage. The gray path, which had jagged nails sticking up at its entrance for some reason, connecting from it and to the doorway, gave her a silent usher. 

Yasmin stood up, trying hard to ignore her twisting innards, and walked past the cutout, not really feeling too comfortable to look at it. When she appeared on the stage, the groaning became louder, and she looked up — 

The worst thing she’s ever seen. 

He was such a stark contrast to his own cartoon cutout right outside the door — the bunny-person, far up in a tube in service of the Musical Memory game, hung by his back, likely by a cable of some sort, torn in half with… something on his other side. On one, he resembled his cartoon counterpart the most, but instead of the wide, toothy, inviting grin, his mouth looked more like a picture, melted into an elongated frown. Blood spotted his yellow fur, and his green overalls were torn and dirtied. His one rabbit ear lay helplessly to his side. His other side didn’t even resemble the first, just half of a human wearing dried-raisin skin, as if burnt alive, with a bulging, bloated mass on the head and near the dangerously skinny ribcage. The mass pulsated, its tips glowing a familiar pink. His other arm was the longest arm she’s ever seen, twice the size of his cartoon-y paw, and neither held his signature symbols. 

Yasmin swallowed the vomit threatening to rush up her throat. 

“Mommy is so happy!” 

From her side— a window, a large one with a light, the one that the employees used to observe the kids while they played the game. Mommy stuck onto the glass, like a real spider. “Mommy never thought she’d get to play this game a second time! Ohh, do you remember this, Yas-meen?”

Yasmin didn’t respond to her question and just looked back up at ‘Bunzo’. He hung, gazing, groaning. Can’t she hear that? “What happened to him?” she asked.

Mommy cocked her head and blinked, slowly. “Who, dear?”

Yasmin’s legs almost gave out. She pointed up at the hanging figure, saying, “H-Him—” 

“OHH! I almost forgot!” Mommy reached down somewhere Yasmin couldn’t see and held up a yellow machine with two red and blue hands attached at both its ends, bloodied black straps dangling from the curves. The grabpack: the weirdest fucking thing an evil life-destroying company could ever force its employees to have. 

“Here you are, dear!~” Mommy began lifting the grabpack upward, then stopped. Her face still held a smile, but something was off. With the way she stared upwards, it was like her worst nightmare gazed back down through her plastic and elastic skin and into her soul.

She dropped the grabpack and flew a fist into the window, and it shattered in an instant. Yasmin stumbled back — the noise tore her eardrums, or at least it felt like it, and so sudden too. 

Mommy’s eyes gazed back at her as she picked up the grabpack again and shoved it through the hole. Broken glass pierced her stretched arm, blood cascading down her skin and dripping into the shadows below.

Yasmin forced a big smile, quickly glancing up at Bunzo every once in a while. “Ahahathaaanks,” she said, taking the grabpack, then instantly tumbled back from its sudden heaviness. “AhSHI-”

Then, she stopped, and looked down — Mommy’s hand held onto her shirt, and with a surprising tenderness, she brought her back to her feet while she adjusted herself to the weird tool’s weight. 

Mommy let go, but kept her hand near her. Yasmin gave a small, real smile, then put on the grabpack, keeping her shoulders up to support its weight and inserting her fingers where the triggers to launch the hands were. Once she was situated, Mommy patted her on the head.

“Thank you,” Yasmin said, kind of appreciating the gesture. 

Lights blinked above the motherly human-toy as she cocked her head, her arm returning to her side. The permanent painted mouth beamed, along with a crinkle under her eye. For a moment, someone else entirely shone underneath those wide eyes.

“You had quite a bit of trouble with this,” Mommy said.

A sharp pain pierced her. “What—?”

Mommy giggled, holding a friendly tone as she spoke, “I remember when you first came here. Little Annie asked me to include you in our games, and what kind of mother would I be if I ignored my dear child?” Softly, she laughed again. “Ohh, you were so cute! We’ve never seen any of the older children act like that!”

A deep blush tainted her face. She recalled the disapproving and shocked faces of those employees — a clear overreaction since anyone sane would panic at the sight of a GIANT YELLOW RABBIT slowly moving down towards them with such loud cymbals that made it way too hard to think! They must have done something to those kids before all the fucked up stuff to make them immune to that sorta thing!

“...I was the only one?” Yasmin whimpered out. Apparently, it’s unheard of for a kid to have completely normal reactions to such an abnormal thing. 

Mommy threw back her head, laughing like it was really that funny. “You cried like a baby! It was so precious, sucking your thumb and everything.”

Alright, relax, I didn’t go that far. She probably did. 

The human-toy sighed, and her eyes stared out at nothing in particular, just a gaze diving into a sea of sadness with bits of yearning. “If you…” she said. “If you ever get scared or overwhelmed, come to Mommy. I’ll always be here for you.”

That human broke through that slight static — hearing it was like being embraced all over again, in the middle of the night after waking from a nightmare, then right into the arms of the person you—

Yasmin quickly wiped a tear off her face. “Um, thank you. I will,” she said. 

She turned to a giant screen, and it flashed on. The room illuminated, driving back shadows, she swore, crept closer every moment. An automated voice explained the instructions, but she didn’t pay attention — her mind wandered someplace else.

If I find an exit, we’ll have to leave her behind, too. A strange feeling washed over her. I shouldn’t feel bad for her… but she’s not so bad. Didn’t Poppy say the Prototype ordered her to chase her around all those days? 

Yasmin turned to the window. Mommy gazed back at her, unblinking, with blood dripping from her arm. I’ll talk to her. It sounds like only this Prototype thing is the root of all of this, even if Playtime deserved it. She turned back forward, slouching a little. But that’d also mean—

“You’ve started, dearie!~” 

“Huh— OH.” 

The giant screen blared the color red in front of her. Right, how is this supposed to work again—? Sucks that the only thing she could recall about this game was her ending up rolling around on the floor crying. Which, again, is a normal reaction. 

Thankfully, she noticed a few giant buttons in front of her, all in an assortment of colors, including red. Red in terms of OH I NEED TO PRESS THE THING WITH THE THING AND REMEMBER THE— She pulled one of the triggers and launched the blue hand at the red button, earning a computerized cheer. 

An eerie whirring noise softly buzzed from above. Yasmin didn’t dare look up; she knew what — who — was creeping down towards her. Just don’t look at him, you’re okay. Everything’s okay. Her stomach twisted into tighter knots.

“Red, Yellow,” the screen demanded. 

“Easy,” she whispered, in a very cool, badass way, then got the sequence completely wrong. “NO NOT THE GREEN—”

Mocking little awwwws surrounded her, and the whirring above became faster. 

Thegreenwasrightnexttotheyellowthisissounfair. Yasmin stumbled, hunched over by the pangs in her organs; the grabpack weighing like boulders. Complaints raced around in her head, none of which helped her stay focused in the slightest. 

She inhaled sharply and watched her skin get covered in blue light. Red, yellow, blue — and she pressed the assortment of colors. The whirring grew closer. 

“Red, Yellow, Blue, Yellow.”

She pressed them, the buttons appearing to have grown in doubles, circling each other like butterflies, chasing, moving. Her brain was so heavy. 

A finger slipped, and her grabpack’s hand pressed a color — which one, she didn’t know, but the walls made another mocking noise, and that thing was going to barrel down to her, that hideous, stretched mouth ready to take her from this world.

She had no reason to stay standing and allowed her legs to buckle under her. Colors melted together, flashing far too close. 

Yasmin covered her ears; she was 17 again. I can’t do this. 

A hand grabbed her and yanked her off stage, to somewhere quieter, darker, through sharp teeth that sliced her arms and punctured her exposed shoulders. But despite the agony that sank into her, her pounding headache lightened to feathers and pebbles. 

She opened her eyes. Mommy filled her vision, all three of her faces circling around and around, but after a moment, they fused back into each other. But wasn’t she supposed to be pink?

“Goodness, child! Are you alright? Are you hurt?” she asked with genuine concern. 

Yasmin looked down, and it took her a second to realize that the hot pink goo coursing down her arms was blood. She tried moving her arms and sucked in a sharp breath, tears pricking her eyes. Her nerves were stabbed, they had to be; what else could set her arm on fire this much? 

Eyes kept tightly shut, she felt herself being lowered onto the ground. Mommy’s hand snaked up her arms, careful not to press too hard against them, when one of her fingers bumped into the tool that almost dug up Yasmin’s muscle — she let out the loudest scream she never thought she could make. 

“O-Oh my—” Mommy stuttered. “I-It’ll be okay, dearie! Mommy will fix you right up!” 

It was quiet for a moment, she thought. Her eardrums thundered against her skull, cheeks flooded with tears, heat and pain numbing her left side, and then—

Another scream ripped from her throat, just like whatever was ripped out of her. She wasn’t ready for the gaping hole of needles slicing through muscle and skin, even after the thing got yanked out; it ran down her arm and all over her body, oozing wet agony, and at the same time, nothing was there at all.

“I— sorry!” Mommy cried. A deep grumbling came from her. “M-M-Mommy’s so very sorry, it’s better to just go ahead and get it out. M-Mommy’s sorry—”

The human-toy’s mouth uttered apologies, and Yasmin wanted to push her away, not caring about whatever she was at that point — only that she made it worse, she could’ve at least done a countdown or something!

But she had no energy to protest, so she let the spider woman do whatever she wanted. She couldn’t make her feel any worse anyway. “I-It hurts…” she mumbled. A light fabric wrapped around the aching hole, and she was pulled into an embrace. 

Yasmin was back at home. 

Home. In her chest, on a bed with morning sunlight peaking through the curtains. Her body was a lot smaller, with the colorful beads in her hair clanking against each other as she sobbed in her soft skin. 

Her mother — her real mother — hummed a song. She couldn’t remember which one.

She couldn’t remember, and she sank into a deep sleep. 

Yasmin awoke to the sounds of licking. 

Her eyes were so heavy, and her jaw was terribly sore, but the pressure lightened the more she forced herself to keep conscious. In fact, most of the pain from however long ago had somewhat completely faded. 

The hole in her arm — small and shy. She moved it, careful at first, then gave it a lift. Pressure bit at her, but more so if a newborn puppy decided to nibble her as a way of asking her to play. Yet, the oddity hardly reflected on herself: her limbs and clothes were drenched with her own dried blood. But, more good news, she didn’t feel like throwing up intestines anymore! 

This is really weird… Yasmin stood up and faced forward. “Hey, how lo—”

She stopped when she saw that Mommy’s back was turned. The woman was hunched over, creating those awful licking sounds. Yasmin grimaced; however, she stepped forward. “Um…”

Mommy whirled around, blood seeping from her painted lips, both her own and Yasmin’s. A huge glass stained in red protruded from her mouth, tongue wrapped around it, stained with cuts by its edges, but the greed in her eyes spoke volumes.

Lovely.

They both stared at each other. What cut through the awkward tension was another deep, guttural growl from Mommy’s stomach. 

Yasmin snuck a hand in her jacket’s pocket and pulled out the plastic bag with the sandwich — it was smashed horribly and frankly didn’t look too appetizing, but obviously Mommy didn’t feel the same. As soon as she lifted the sandwich in front of her, the giant toy-woman spat out the glass and snatched the actual edible thing out of her hand and began devouring it, including the plastic. 

“Hey, don’t—!” Yasmin started, until Mommy’s primal glare stopped her. Never mind, go crazy.

Once she finished, Mommy rose up to a tall stance, no longer hunched over with a slight tremble in her hands or knees. She seemed relieved, breathing out like a weight’s been lifted off her bubblegum-shaped chest. Even her cheeks looked a tad more rosy. 

Still doesn’t explain why she’s purple. 

Actually, everything looked off-colored, just a little. The gray walls and machines seemed to lean more towards an eggshell, and the screens held a menacing red instead of an empty black. Mommy herself was still slightly pink, but meshed with Yasmin’s favorite purple hue. 

So I’m having a stroke, Yasmin concluded, not actually sure. Buuut, my stroke knows what I like to see, so maybe it’s not that bad.

“Ah! That feels so much better!” Mommy said, then extended her neck so her head could be at Yasmin’s level. “Thank you, Ms. Yas-meen!”

Still not my name, but “No problem,” Yasmin said, trying to ignore the loose plastic piece that fell down her purplish face in a river of blood-mixed drool. 

“Ohh! Mommy has an idea! How about a break?” Mommy suggested. “We’ll have a little tea party?”

“A break? What about the second game?” 

“That one is unavailable.” Her eyes glanced to the side where the now-silent room had its darkness pressed up against the glass. “And look at you, you must be so exhausted! Mommy will whip us up some tea, okay? And you can provide more of those delicious sandwiches!” She paced around as she spoke, but after she said ‘sandwiches’ she snapped her head to Yasmin, face covered in hunger’s shadow. “You do have more of those…right?”

“Yep!!” Yasmin said with another uncertain grin. Poppy, I swear to god if you ate all of them.

“Good!~” Mommy pulled Yasmin into a hug, a bit forceful at first, then she let herself relax when her pretend child returned the gesture. 

“Yeah, actually, that sounds great,” Yasmin said. This is my chance.

They let go after a little bit. “And I’ll take these! They must be so heavy to carry around.” Mommy’s arm flew onto the grabpack and, after Yasmin got the hint to take off the straps, she lifted it off of her instantly. Then, after giving her one last pat on the head, she crawled out into the doorway. 

Yasmin let out a long sigh. Guess I’ll go back to the lobby and—

A revolting THUD stopped her in her tracks. Her ragged shoes rooted to the ground, but at the throb of her formerly pierced hole, she held her breath and turned around. 

Underneath the sole light, Bunzo lay on the center stage, the wire above him dangling pathetically above his side. A large pool of grey and blossom-pink substance splattered around him. He faced her, both drooping, sad eyes watching as she stepped back, his mouth opening as if to let out a screech, but just a low groan came. Salivating, he raised a hand and pulled his way to the window, but he might as well be a turtle instead of a bunny. 

“K…….K…Ki….” His wheezing blocked his voice. 

Yasmin instantly turned away and sped out of the room right when her organs threatened to twist again at the same. The worst part came the second she stepped away.

“Mm, me— kill, kill m-me, plea..se.…”

“...Don’t….”

Yasmin stopped. A voice resembling so much like Poppy’s bounced around in the hallways, hardly heard but loud enough to decipher some words, and more importantly, her tone — her rather calm tone. Wasn’t that girl terrified of being out of my bag?

She tiptoed to the entrance of the main lobby, sticking out her ear. 

“She’ll…..I know….But…..capable…..” 

That’s definitely her, who’s she—? A thing tickled her shoulder, and she glanced over and saw an enormous sp…

“AAHHNOEWEWEWGETOFF—!” Yasmin flung the spider off her shoulder and collapsed to the ground, scooching far away from it.

However, unlike any real spider, this one, for some unforeseen reason, had the balls to inch its way toward her—

Why did that thing sound like a robot?

Mechanical clicks and whirs emitted from its body, and upon a closer look, she spotted several bolts protruding from its legs and a metal shine from its fat abdomen. It must’ve recognized that she wasn’t too afraid anymore, for when she moved closer, it retreated to the shadows in the blink of an eye. 

Yasmin stood back up, rubbing both her biceps to reassure herself that nothing else was on her. Nonetheless, there might as well have been a thousand little legs pinching her body.

Poppy.

Remembering the flower girl, she spun around and ran back to the lobby. When she entered the place, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“YAS-MEEN!” 

Yasmin spun around; Mommy crawled up to her from the ceiling, then dropped down, mouth agape from worry. “Mommy heard a scream! Are you alright? Are you hurt?” she said. 

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” Yasmin said. “A spider startled me.” 

Those pinpoint red pupils flashed in her eyes for a second before going away. “Oh!” Mommy said. “Mommy tends to decorate the place now and then, and it attracts those little monsters. Nothing to worry about! Call me back when you’re ready for our little party, dearie.” She patted her head and crawled back on the ceiling, quickly disappearing into the maze of pipes.

Yasmin waited until the thumps fell silent, then walked back over to the train, peaking through rubble until she found her bag, zipped up and quiet. 

She kneeled and unzipped the bag, and as soon as the slightest light covered her head, Poppy popped right out. “What happened?” she said. “You were gone for hours!” Her hair was a little orange now.

“I’m sorry, I— wait, hours?” Yasmin said. “Didn’t think it was that long.”

Poppy scanned her body, eyes widening at the dried blood. “What did she do to you?”

“Teeechnically, I sorta did this to myself.” Yasmin turned slightly and showed her the bandage, and Poppy winced at the sight. “I was doing the Musical Memory thing, and I panicked. She actually saved me from…”

His face, his eyes, that gaping mouth, all stuck to her vision as he lay right in front of her. He reached out to her, repeating those awful words, desperation heaving from his dried and plastic lips; disgusting, poor, pitiful shell. 

“Hey, Yasmin.”

He was gone, and Yasmin snapped her attention back to Poppy, who gazed at her with worry. Behind her, the stairs to the Musical Memory game were covered by that red gate. 

“A-Are you okay?” Poppy said. 

Yasmin panted, rubbing a thumb over her bandage. The redhead poured herself out of the bag and hopped on her knee, then touched her bandage. She flinched in response, saying, “What are you doing?”

“It doesn’t look like the wound was properly cleaned,” Poppy responded. “I saw some ointment in there, so that should help.”

“Oh, thank you,” Yasmin said. 

Poppy grinned. “I’ll have to put this bandage back on you, though. We can’t risk her finding out I’m here.”

“Good idea.”

For the next few moments, Poppy worked to untie the knot on the bandage, and the creaking pipes and weakened infrastructure occupied as noise for them. 

Yasmin was the first to speak up: “Poppy, when I was coming in, I thought I heard your voice. Were you talking to someone?” 

She didn’t look phased in the slightest. “No,” she said. “But I heard voices too; they must’ve been the toys working with Mommy. You must’ve scared them off when you came in — I would be surprised if she told them not to hurt you.”

“Are you sure? They really sounded a lot like you.” Yasmin felt tiny fingers dig underneath her bandage.

“The smaller ones,” Poppy explained, “we all sound alike, don’t we?”

Now that brought a new kind of shameful chill. She kept her mouth shut for the next few moments.

Poppy’s face scrunched up in annoyance, and when Yasmin lifted a hand to give her some assistance, she quickly spoke: “So, did you get to find an exit by any chance?”

Yasmin dropped her hand and shifted in her spot, uncomfortable. “I didn’t, but I thought it over… Remember when we were talking about how I came to Playcare?” 

“Yes—” Poppy finally got the bandage off. 

Yasmin continued, “I’ll give you the rest of the details later, but basically, when I was in the GameStation, I found a door that leads to an alternative pathway to the tracks. I think it’s some sorta maintenance access point that the staff used.”

“U-Uhm, that’s great… just one thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Your arm’s turning green.”

She shot a glance down her arm, and wouldn’t you know it, the little girl was right. It wasn’t too big of a mark, but surrounding her formerly punctured wound, the ugliest shade of green she’s ever seen pooled around the pink pupilless eye where that huge glass shard used to be. “Oh,” she said, sounding casual, but rest assured, panic was building up. “That’s not good.”

“Yeah, no kidding!” Poppy shouted, but kept her voice maintained, and she facepalmed. “This is why you shouldn’t have eaten that stuff.”

“Is something going to happen to me?” Yasmin asked, putting a hand on her chest while she whimpered out heavy breaths.

Poppy’s eyes softened, and she put her hands on her forearm, her ice-cold hands attempting to calm her down. “No, no, noo, nothing should happen to you,” she said. “But it’s very important that you don’t get hurt again, not like this.”

Letting her words calm her racing heart, Yasmin took in a deep breath, held it, and breathed out. “Okay…Okay. I believe you. I believe you.” A voice cursed the back of her head: What if she’s wrong?

“You said you know where an exit is, right?” 

“Yes, yeah, b-but I’m pretty sure it’s locked, I know I had to use a key last time. I don’t remember where it could be, though.”

Poppy avoided her gaze, then looked back at her. “Mommy probably has them.”

“What makes you say that?” 

“When she chased me around this floor, she made sure every exit was either locked, blocked off, or destroyed. I tried every door, and I’m pretty sure one of them is the one you’re talking about. She has keys hidden around here somewhere, and we’ll have to take them.”

Guilt felt up Yasmin’s spine. Another pipe in the distance creaked, and the walls groaned. GameStation sang a wailing song, haunted by its gruesome memories. She gazed off into the direction Mommy went, how she moved through the ceiling so effortlessly. 

“Yasmin?” Poppy said. “What’re you thinking?”

She swallowed her anxiety; no use in keeping it in. “She— Mommy, she looked really happy to have me as company.”

Poppy glanced around before sitting down in front of her. “Of course she is, she’s been down here a long time. I’m sure you’re the only real company she’s had since The Hour.”

“So is it really right to trick her?”

The doll-girl narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Yasmin started, avoiding her glare, “I can just talk to her, you know? As you said, she only chased you around for the past month because of the Prototype, and when I first came here, she…” Mommy’s screams echoed around in her head. “She sounded…scared. Like she’d be in a lot of trouble if she didn’t find you.”

Poppy stood up, balling her hands into fists. “And what, you expect me to feel bad for her?” she said, her voice rising. “She made my life a nightmare since she took away the last person I thought would set me free from this place!”

“I know, I’m not telling you to forgive her,” Yasmin countered in the most gentle voice she could put on. “I’m just saying—”

“Then why are you trying to make me sympathize with her? She’s violent, she’s cruel, and she’s downright unstable!”

“That’s exactly why we need to avoid upsetting her!” 

They shut their mouths, afraid they’d been a bit too loud, but luckily, nobody came. The two flowers relaxed, and Poppy crossed her arms, waiting for the other to elaborate on her last point.

“Listen,” Yasmin said, “I’m not saying you guys should reconcile or anything. I agree that you should be as far from her as you want to be. But back at that Musical Memory game, it was just like when I first played it, however many years it’s been: I got so overwhelmed. I needed her to save me from that rabbit.”

Poppy’s harsh glare dissolved. “So what are you saying?”

“Everything you said about her is true, which could only mean doing something as risky as stealing and sneaking away from her would put her right back into that mindset. And judging by my performance back there, I have no chance to defend myself, let alone both of us.”

“Then kill her before she kills you.” 

Her blood ran cold. Poppy sounded so monotone, and her face twisted in a firm stare. She meant every word.

“What?”

“If what you said is true, then if we’re going to get out of here, you’ll need to kill her,” Poppy repeated. “It’s our best bet.”

Yasmin leaned away from her. “No, no, I can’t do that. I didn’t come here to kill anyone.” 

“But you did come here for someone, right?” The orange-reddishhead cocked her head toward the train. “And from the looks of it, as long as she’s alive, she won’t let you get to him.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Yasmin said. This is the time to tell her. She’s being ridiculous. Tell her, and she’ll stop.

“There are ways to do it without directly confronting her.”

“Poppy…”

“We’ll just have to find something to put in her food, or drink, more likely, and go from there—”

“Poppy!” Yasmin kept her voice in a whisper, but strong enough to cut her off. “I can’t kill her!”

Tell her. Then she’ll understand.

The little doll-human sighed like she was the one who was exhausted here. “There really is no other choice.”

Tell her. It will make this easier. “But there is! I can convince her, or at least try to!” Tell her. “There has to be some way to convince her, to get all this to stop.” In the corner of her eye, her wound scowled, despite its numbness. Her heart hammered against her ribcage. Tell her. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this for you.”

“Huh?” 

Tell her. “I came here to get away from it all. All that death, all that poison, I can’t bring it here!”

“Look, calm down—”

Tell her. Tell her. Tell her. Tell her. She couldn’t stop running her mouth. “Let me talk to her. I can try. I can try, I can try something to get us all away from whoever’s running this place, w-we can figure it out if we just talk things out, i-it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“What are you talking about?? Stop talking!”

“No! There is NOTHING out there! Not for you or for me; we need as many people as we can keep! This is all we’re ever gonna have!” 

Her voice echoed through the main lobby. The girls didn’t bother to listen for Mommy or whoever else was alive with them; they only gazed at each other, Yasmin breathing heavily and Poppy keeping that hardheaded glare. But soon, that glare softened. 

Tell her. Yasmin held herself. “The world is dea—” A cold hand landed on her lips. 

Poppy had an oddly kind smile. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but after your dad got you involved with all this, I can’t imagine it’d been easy.”

…W h a t ?

“I’m sorry if no one believed you. I’m sorry if whatever you faced down there, you feel like you can’t live out there with it.”

WHAT ARE YOU SAYING THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT.

“But please.” Her face scrunched up, tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. “You can’t let me die down here. You promised me you wouldn’t, that nothing else would ever hurt me again. And here at Playtime, around every corner, every flickering light, everyone is waiting for us to let our guard down, so they can put me back in that…” She hiccuped softly. “In that purgatory, and have this,” her hand traced down to her chest, and she placed a hand over her beating heart, “swimming around with your limbs, your organs, whatever else, right in their stomachs.” Those last words caked her tongue in venom as she spat them out, then reverted to sugary-sweetness that paired with a gentle hug. “I can’t lose you like that.”

Yasmin kept her lips locked. Poppy ripped herself away from her and walked back to the bag. “Bring me with you this time; we might’ve drawn some attention here.” She paused to sigh. “And you can try talking to her, if you still think that’s the right path. I really can’t do anything beyond warning you, so I hope you’ll listen to me.” She hopped back in the backpack, and Yasmin went to zip it back up for her. 

She couldn’t do anything else but watch as Poppy shuffled around in there and settled down, sitting still like another Playtime doll. Yasmin touched her lips — her hand was right over them, she had PLENTY of power to push it out of the way and tell her straight up that her dream can’t come true. But she’s a little girl, desperate and hurting from this place. Why did I say all that? I’m the only hope she has.

Something clanked inside the pipes above her in a mocking tone. She looked at her arm, at what she had done to herself. Some hope I am. I can’t let her out, even if I wanted to. I can’t keep her safe here, either. I can’t do anything.

Yasmin raised her head. Which means I can’t kill her.

She sat in silence for a second before nudging the bag. “Uh, actually, can I get a few more of those sandwiches?”

~

“Mommy’s so excited! She got everything prepared for our little tea party! Isn’t this the best day ever, dearest?” 

Half-listening, Yasmin nodded along to whatever she said and kept her focus on the hallway. Doors, dusted and occasionally painted with red streaks, stood and watched the two go by. Not that one, not that one, not that one either… Oh, what the hell, all these doors look the same!

But when they turned a corner, there it was. 

“Right over here, dearie!” Mommy cheered, placing a hand on her back and giving a gentle nudge. She was pushing her into the employee breakroom, a few doors down from “freedom.” After taking a mental note of its placement, Yasmin entered the quaint little tea party, setting down her bag beside the door.

Worries swirled in her head, putting her body on autopilot. She grabbed dusty, crusted plates from cabinets that looked like they would fall apart with a simple poke and placed the three sandwiches from her pocket (plastic off) on them. She kept glancing at Mommy, who hummed a tune as she made sure the equally disgusting forks and spoons were organized. The teacups next to them had deep brown liquid steaming from their surface and the little tails of the teabags sticking out. 

She set the plate of sandwiches down, and half a second later, they were gone — Mommy had flown down in her chair and gobbled them up like a ravenous beast. 

Good thing I’m not hungry. Yasmin gave her a nervous smile and sipped her tea, beating down the urge to gag. She glanced down at the floating chunks of black gunk and immediately pushed her teacup slightly away from her. Lovely. 

Mommy breathed out a deep sigh of relief. “Ahhh…You have no idea how happy you’ve made Mommy today, dearest,” she said. “Coming back just for me!~ And bringing food too, oh, what Mommy had to suffer just to survive down here…” She put her hand on her forehead, leaning back dramatically, then opened one of her eyes with a mischievous grin. “Mommy’s so glad to see you didn’t let those disgusting employees get to you. Why, a sweet thing like you only needs one skill!”

Yasmin’s smile got more strained the more she talked. I have other skills… she wanted to say, but she knew she meant well. Besides, there was something else she had an urge to mention. “Ah, well, yes, of course I came back just for you, M-...Mommy,” she lied.

Mommy’s eyes widened, then squinted, and she sat back in her chair. “Buuuut.”

“....Buuut-?” 

“Child, don’t you know better than to lie to your own mother?”

Goddammit. Yasmin’s stomach dropped (hopefully that’ll be the only thing it does right now). “What do you mean?”

“Oh, please, Mommy saw you hanging around a few of the other children each time you came back to play with me.” Mommy took a sip of her sink water ‘tea’ and sat quietly for a moment, like she had entered a deep thought. “Have you heard of The Hour?”

Yasmin gulped and nodded, the previous fear burning away. 

Mommy sighed, tracing the lip of her teacup. “What a wonderful day,” she said with a little too much happiness in her voice. “So, so, so many employees' lives snuffed out. An overdue punishment if you ask me. If it weren’t for them, I’d be a real mother by now.” She winced, as if shocked by her own words, and took a quick sip of her mold tea. “A-And yet Mommy knew something much bigger would’ve come and, perhaps, would wipe us all out for committing such a needed sin. I’m surprised that it never came.”

Yasmin downed her tea in a blind panic, suppressing the gags that tried to escape her throat. 

“But after you disappeared that day,” Mommy continued, “Mommy thought you became one of us, and kept you somewhere she’d never see you again.” She began sniffling, then stretched out her arm and pulled her pretend child in another tight embrace. “Mommy’s so happy to see you again— like this. And not like her. Not like them.” 

Tears dripped down Yasmin's face and curled right past her lips. Carefully, she returned to the gesture, wrapping her arms around her purplish-pink chest and patting her back. Dirt rubbed against her cheek — it was gross, but at the moment, she didn’t care all that much.

Mommy sat her back down in her chair, wiping away tears. “Sorry, dearie, Mommy gets so worked up over the silliest things!” she said. 

Yasmin smiled, a real one brought by a slight chuckle. “I think it’s earned this time.” Under this light, with that face, she didn’t look too bad after all. 

With a giggle, she said, “Anyway, tell me… Did you escape this awful place? Or were you adopted, and just had to come back to see Mommy?” She slid her hand closer to her. “You can tell me anything, child.”

Yasmin leaned back in her chair. “I wasn’t an orphan, but I did stay at Playcare.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, when I first came here, I sorta wandered down into the depths. Saw a bunch of things I shouldn’t have seen, and, uh, did things the employees didn’t like me doing… I don’t really like to talk about it.” She said that like one of the victims who actually experienced Playtime’s cruelty wasn’t in front of her, but luckily, she was nice enough to understand, and nodded her head, signaling that she could continue. “Anyhow, they made me stay at the orphanage — a 'precaution, ' they said. That’s when I met my best friend.”

Mommy suddenly let out an offended gasp and turned away with a “Humph!”

“Huh—?”

“Mommy is supposed to be your best friend! But clearly, she’s been played for a fool!”

Yasmin shrank back in her chair, not really knowing what to say, but she quickly tried to find something to calm her down—

“Teehee!”

She snapped her eyes back to her; Mommy had a silly smile with puffed cheeks and fingers up to her lips. 

“Gotcha!” she said. 

Yasmin blinked and let out a nervous laugh, slowly relaxing again.

“So, tell me more,” Mommy said, resting her chin on the back of her hand. 

Heat crept up on her cheeks. “His name’s Lee, or at least, that’s what he wanted me to call him. When I came across him during that whole thing, like everyone else… he looked lonely, all cooped up in a cage that was way too small for him. I don’t really remember all too well what happened next, but I know I couldn’t get him out. 

So I figured the least I could do was keep him company; I always snuck off to meet him — he was the only one I could get to.” Her chest filled up with butterflies. “After a while, I just couldn’t see myself without him every day. It was like that for a few years, until...” Until Daddy ruined everything.

Yasmin felt her hand get covered, and she looked down to see Mommy’s hand gently holding hers. 

“What was he like, sweetheart?” she said. 

Yasmin squeezed her hand around hers, giving a silent thanks. “Ahaha, um, where to start—” She thought for a second, memories filling her with sunshine again. “For one, he’s weird, in a good way! That’s only because he’d always bring me rocks or bugs as gifts…” She shuddered, but kept going. “And we did this thing every once in a while where we just did little gift exchanges. He was actually pretty quiet, now that I think about it; didn’t really like to talk about himself all that much, but he did mention he was there for a while.”

“Ah, a bigger body,” Mommy commented. “Then perhaps he really is alive.”

Those words made Yasmin lurch. “I know he is,” she blurted. “I don’t— it doesn’t feel right to think he’s…” She fell silent, refusing to say it out loud. 

Mommy’s thumb brushed against the back of her hand. “I know, dear. But this place isn’t what it used to be, far from it.”

“Yes, I-I’m aware of that, but—”

“But nothing.”

Yasmin looked up at her. Mommy’s eyes were slightly dilated, but not as a sign of danger or temper. Her tone slithered with warning, yet less like a threat, and more of how a mother would teach their child about the cruel world.

“You’ve heard of The Hour, but since then, it’s been every toy for themselves, especially in the lower depths.” Her eyes narrowed. “It’s hard to afford caring about anyone else. Perhaps some can, but certainly not all of us. This ‘Lee’ person, he sounds lovely, dearie, really, but he might not be the man he used to be.” She took another sip of tea. “Him and everyone else, if they’re not dead.”

Yasmin stared down at her tea. “That’s not…”

Mommy squeezed her hand tighter. “Oh, don’t worry, sweetness. You have Mommy now, and that’s all that matters! But what an adorable little crush you had!” She said it so happily, after stating the worst thing in the world. “It’ll be just like old times! Mommy’s sure she can find a way to get Wack-A-Wuggy working a— oop! Alliteration! Ahaha!”

There has to be more. Yasmin gripped her pants. There’s more; he’s down, they’re all down there. I need more. Her stomach twisted. 

“Yassy, dear? Is something wrong?” Her tea pushed back in front of her. “Oh! You’re out of tea! Silly, you should’ve told—” 

Yasmin’s voice reflected her thoughts in a whimper before she could have the chance to control herself: “I need to go down there. They’re down there.”

And Mommy’s joyful attitude shifted to a dead halt. “What did you just say, child?”

The rest of the world faded to black; she might as well die right then and there. 

By the door, her bag shifted, and she imagined Poppy facepalming herself once more. Yasmin jumped out of her seat, smiling as big of a fake smile as she could possibly muster. “I said! Uh!” Yasmin said, voice cracking horribly. “I said I needed the bathroom, is that…is that okay…?” 

Whatever happens to you next is 100% deserved.

Mommy flinched. “Oh…no,” she said, shaking her head. “Oh no no no no no no no no no no no no no no…”

“Uh—” Yasmin stepped back, then tripped on her feet and landed in her chair.

The plastic-elastic woman took that as an opportunity to pin her down with her hand and foot. “You, my dear child, are not leaving Mommy to die alone.”

“I-I’m not leaving you!” The pretend child tried to yank her wrist from her grasp, but rubber fingers only gripped her tighter. “Not for good. I just wanna find a way down to the lower depths, to find more people! I promise I’ll come back!”

“Am I not enough?” Mommy spat, static rippling through her words. “After all I’ve done for you, you still want to leave me?” 

Yasmin heard a crunch in her left wrist, setting off alarms in her ringing ears. “Stop, please!”

“A mother is supposed to CARE for her children! What kind of mother would I be if I let you go by yourself? You’re better here with me! Everyone else would’ve eaten you ALIVE by now!”

Bones crunched inside her skin, and that was the last straw — she raised her leg and shoved it inside Mommy’s stomach, sending her back with a stumble and yelp. Blood soared from her filthy lips, and she retracted her limbs and laid a hand on her stomach. 

Yasmin staggered back, roughly colliding with the countertop behind her, its sharp edge pinching her back. Every fiber in her being pleaded with her to run to the doorway, but she couldn’t tear her sight away from the tears flooding down Mommy’s purplish-pink cheeks. Did I kick her that hard?

“Y-You…” Mommy wheezed, and slowly, she looked up, those flickering red dots swelling her presence. 

“I’m… I’m sorry…!” Yasmin gripped the counters. Ache throbbed in the joints of her wrist. 

A scream that could’ve been heard throughout the entire factory erupted from Mommy’s throat as she threw her hand at the trembling jasmine girl’s leg. Yasmin spun around and tried to hold onto the counter, but she was easily brought to the floor, the side of her face hitting the tile. 

Without the mercy of letting her catch her breath, she was dragged away from the counters, to underneath and out from the table, and into the doorway. At the last second, she grabbed her backpack and held it — held her — to her chest, then squeezed her eyes shut as she let tile, dry and dusty walls, hard pipes, and heavy air caress her body with a cruel touch. 

Then, she and Poppy were thrown into a room. 

Yasmin opened her eyes, and they darted from a makeshift bed, a moon-shaped nightlight plugged into the wall, a sea of cobwebs that made up the ceiling, and then to Mommy, who stood in the doorway, her entire body covered in shadow. 

“Mommy thinks you need a timeout,” she said and slammed the door shut. 

Yasmin sat still and waited for the angered scuffling and mumbling to go away, and when it did, she hurried to the nightlight and switched it on. 

The room was illuminated with a soft greenish-cyan glow. She realized pictures were hanging up on the wall on the other side and moved closer, then took in the dim sight of a little girl’s face; she didn’t look older than 10 years old. All the pictures were copies of that face, but the rest of them were angrily scribbled out. 

Vomit rushed up from her stomach and to her throat again, and Yasmin bent over to hold it all in. Not here. 

“You should’ve killed her.”

She gasped and whirled around, and breathed a sigh of relief — it was only Poppy, with her head sticking out of her bag and hiding from the nightlight’s radiance. 

Yasmin didn’t respond, but she turned back to the pictures. The little girl looked happy. 

“How about we rest for tonight? You don’t look so good,” Poppy said. “We’ll come up with a plan after. I have an idea on how we can put this whole thing behind us.”

Can you please think about how I feel about this? Yasmin wanted to say it, but with everything that just happened, including her efforts to keep the sick down, speaking was going to have to wait a second. She shifted her arm and looked down — there was a small box with a seashell decorated on it. A part of her wanted to open it, but she promptly ignored it.

She stood and hobbled over to the makeshift bed and collapsed. The pillows and blankets smelled like cobwebs and iron. The other little girl stared at her.

Once her body adjusted, Yasmin cleared her throat. “You wanna walk around for a bit? You’ve been stuck in there for a while.”

Poppy’s eyes widened a bit, and she took her advice and hopped out of the backpack. Timid footsteps paced around the room, becoming more confident when she was really sure no one else was around. 

Yasmin gazed at her as she did, then moved her attention to her hands — she raised them, cringing at the throbbing inside both of her wrists, and hissed when she bent them as a sharp pain tickled at her bones. Poppy was by her side in an instant, looking up at her with worry. “Let me see.”

“Really, I’m fine. I think I can just sleep it off.” Yasmin forced her 100th grin of the day. 

Poppy didn’t look fooled and carefully brought her arm down to where she could see her wrist. She narrowed her eyes, then ran back to the backpack and brought out the thin roll of bandages that should’ve been kept in the zipped-up pocket. 

“Have you been going through my stuff in there?” Yasmin teased.

“I don’t really feel comfortable sitting still for a long time,” Poppy said. She walked over and positioned her wrists, then started wrapping the bandages all around them. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, I was joking,” Yasmin said. 

“O-Oh.” Poppy cleared her throat and furrowed her brows together, trying to look like she wasn’t embarrassed. 

The bigger flower giggled, then tried relaxing in the pillows. A frown took hold of her lips. “I’m sorry to make you do this. I should’ve expected something like that to happen, with her.”

Poppy glanced at her. “Why didn’t you? I gave you plenty of reasons to assume the worst.”

“I just want there to be a better way than to get violent.” Yasmin bit at her quivering lip. “I mean, didn’t you hear what she said?”

“...Yeah.” The orangeish-redhead moved to the other hand. “She said it’s everyone for themselves down here.”

“But does it have to be?” Yasmin said. Stupid hope, but she couldn’t help but have faith, especially with that picture eyeing her from the dimmest part of the room. 

Poppy finished up the other hand and stepped back. “If you wanna survive down here, yes.”

Yasmin raised her hands again and stared at the bandages. They were crooked and some parts of it were tucked in with each other, but other than that, they were good enough. She glanced over at Poppy, who avoided her gaze and held her hands behind her back. 

“If you really feel that way,” Yasmin said, “then why do you keep depending on me?”

Poppy flinched and shot a glare at her.

“N-Not that it’s a bad thing! I’m saying, you came to me for help, and I’m trying to provide it, and you’re here patching me up. Actually, we’re pretty much depending on each other, and y’know, we’re still here.”

Her ocean eyes darted around. “That’s different,” she finally stated. 

“Why’s it different?”

“It just is.” Poppy rushed back to the backpack and sat in front of it, crossing her arms with a scowl. 

Yasmin laid her hands on her stomach and stared up at the ceiling. The cobwebs looked kinda pretty against the glow. “It’s also nice,” she said. “I’m sorry for stressing you out. I’m still against killing anyone, but earlier, I should’ve taken your feelings into account; I’m not really good at controlling what I say. Can we still be friends?”

Poppy reclined like something unfamiliar was trying to touch her, but she appeared shocked, and in a way, a bit reassured. She stood up and went back over to her, then sat by her side, leaning her head against her arm. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, and when Yasmin looked away, in the corner of her eyes, she looked up at her. 

Moments passed, and then… “Why do you think toys are attractive, you weirdo?”

Yasmin shot up. “Excuse me???”

Poppy stared at her like she just said the stupidest thing a person could mutter, but had a smug grin. “This Lee, the guy you mentioned earlier, he really sounds…special to you.”

An annoying blush sat her face on fire. “First of all, I am NORMAL. And I do NOT find toys attractive!” she angrily whisper-yelled. 

“Right, that’s why your face is red.”

“I—! Look, I’m not!” Yasmin took a deep breath. “I’m not a looks person, okay?”

“Clearly.” 

“You li—” She bit her tongue. “He’s a person, y’know? Just like you! Except, like, older, way older, and interesting, and he’s nice, weird, fun to talk to, he’s a great listener and doesn’t interrupt you while you’re…uh…” 

Poppy raised an eyebrow with the most shit-eating smirk. “And what did he look like?”

“Don’t—!”

“A Smiling Critter?” 

“No! And I’m not telling you! You’re just gonna make fun of me!” She huffed and shoved her face into a pillow. 

“Guess I found the one thing I don’t envy about you.”

Yasmin was about to yell again, then she processed those words. She moved to the side and looked at her little doll friend — Poppy’s porcelain shine glowed against the nightlight. She looked cold. 

“Goodnight, Yasmin,” she said, then grabbed one of the pillows, turned to her side away from her, and lay her marginally big head against it.

They both laid quietly for a moment. Yasmin spotted a small blanket resting on the wall of pillows right beside her, and she took it and covered Poppy’s body, making sure it was over every part of her. Then, she turned toward the wall and fell into a dreamless sleep. 

He hurt her again.

Mommy hid herself underneath the slide on the empty playground. Her children’s laughter swirled around her head, but it didn’t do anything to soothe the three bleeding gashes on the back of her abdomen. Where is he? 

He’s here, crawling, his glowing eye had to be glaring at her right at that moment. Blood dripped down her backside. 

She didn’t sleep that night. 

Chapter Text

A spider descended, its cameras focused on the two girls peacefully lying within the nightlight’s glow. 

It landed on the floor, right in front of the porcelain redhead. Her back was turned, but one could tell she was comfortable in the one place she found solace. 

The spider moved in, steadily, zooming in…until she turned, bloodshot blue eyes half-lidded, still awake, brows furrowed — an adorable sight, greatly conflicting with the mask she always tried so hard to appear grown-up in.

The little doll spotted it, that half-lidded ocean springing open in recognition and anger, and she grabbed the spider by its face and held it up right above. Then, after a hesitant moment, she brought it back down to her level. “No…No.” The little doll held it close, its lens practically touching her glare. “Keep watching me all you want. You’ll only see who’s gonna end up killing you.”

And after such drivel, she smashed it with her bare, tiny hands. Fuzzy mechanical pieces flew everywhere, hitting her fragile skin, getting in her hair, but she gritted her teeth, focused on the camera. 

After she was done, the glass flower tossed it to the corner and dove right into Yasmin’s backpack, then zipped it up all by herself. 

The other spider observed her movements. It concluded that its partner was no longer in commission and descended to observe the other, much more fleshed doll. The blankets and pillows around her were thrown around, despite her being so careful not to make a mess the night before. Golden brown skin surrounded the green that stayed around her wound on her arm, but it didn’t appear to have spread in the slightest.  Drool pooled onto the pillow she rested on, with its stream hanging from the corners of her plump lips, like the snot from her nose (who knows how long it’s been since the upper floor’s heaters stopped working). Her hair was sprawled out, strands curling and tangling in on each other, falling over the scuff that caked her face — a mess, to put it plainly. A beautiful, beautiful mess.

The spider’s cameras flickered as it crawled up to her face, recording every pore, every acne, every twitch. All of it was needed for what could come, if she could fall further. 

~

The door creaked open to somewhere she’s never seen before — well, she’s seen train tracks, but never thought this kind of thing existed, like some sort of employee-only type entrance. Welp, since there’s nothing else to do…

Snacks and that one huge water bottle left in the employee area nestled deep in her pockets. If the workers here were going to give her weird looks and whisper about her to each other (even though at the time she was right there staring directly at them and they STILL felt the need to be so rude), then she automatically has a right to take from them! It’ll be a well-deserved early birthday present for what she had to go through.

Yasmin shuddered at Mommy’s face. If a public meltdown wasn’t bad enough, she had to be coddled by a screeching and unreasonably humongous pink stretching toy thing! How did they even make that? she thought as she stepped through the door and quickly shut it behind her.

A long tunnel expanded into unknown darkness, taking the train tracks with it. If she followed it, it would either lead her to the parking lot where she’d rehearse her millions upon millions of complaints until Daddy came back, or something much, much cooler than the GameStation — only one way to find out. 

When she stepped down on the tracks, the floor collapsed beneath her, and the air shot out of her lungs. Yasmin opened her mouth to scream as darkness pulled her deeper and deeper into the floor, but nothing came out. The little goodies she took flew from her pockets and blew up into bubbles, popping gently, and she sank deeper and deeper and deeper…

And she began to hear voices. 

“Stop!” they said. “It hurts!” 

Yasmin rolled around and peered into the void. The voices continued — most sounded like children, others resembled older teens and adults.

“Quit poking me!”

“Where’s my family? I thought I was getting adopted… Where am I?”

“I don’t wanna be this!”

“Let me out! I want Ms. Owens! I don’t like it here!”

“Get out! GET OUT!”

She covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. Soon, the voices bled into a blaring alarm. Flashing red lights blinded her through her eyelids, and she spun and spun, sinking deeper into the deafening misery…

“And who are you?”

Yasmin uncovered her ears and opened her eyes. A spotlight covered her body, and yet, as bright as it was, it gave her warmth, inside and out. She couldn’t see behind it too well, but she swore she thought she saw another, tinier, dimmer light behind it. 

“Answer me, girl,” the voice behind the light said. “I said, who are you?”

To top that nice, cozy dream off, Yasmin woke up to another spider inches from her face. 

She screamed, flailing her arms and legs around, and slapped it to the other side of the room, gagging at how hideously hairy it felt. The spider perked right back up, made a weird little snap sound, and scurried up the wall and into the ceiling of webs. 

“AaaaghhUGHHHH!!” Yasmin yelled. She checked herself, making sure there were no other spiders left in the—

“Are you alright, dearie?” There’s one. 

She turned, and there in the now cracked open doorway, Mommy poked her head in. Her eyes were blank, a hint of fury from last night (or however long it’s been) swimming around in that green plastic, but that was also swarmed with bits of curiosity, maybe even worry, too. 

“Um…yeah…?” Yasmin said, putting her back up against the wall. 

“Good…” Mommy’s hand began stretching into the room. “Let’s go downstairs.”

“Wait!” 

Her hand stopped. Yasmin’s eyes darted from her to her bag. 

“C-Can I get myself situated first?” she said. “I’m still a little tired.” Please don’t get mad. 

Mommy didn’t respond, but she did retract her hand and closed the door, letting the steady creeeeaaaaak be the last thing spoken between them. 

Yasmin waited for the sounds of her crawling way to go away before she crawled toward the backpack. “Poppy? You in there?”

“Yes,” her friend said. 

A wave of relief soothed her dwindling anxiety. “Sorry if I woke you up. These weird little spider toys are crawling everywhere… Are they the ones you were talking about? Mommy’s little minions, or whatever?”

Poppy shifted around in the bag, and Yasmin noticed the wiggling zipper on the side and helped her unzip herself. Blue light lit up her disappointed glare, but she quickly shook it away. “Yes. They are,” she said.

Yasmin shuddered and scanned the room again for any of those creepy-crawlie freaks. 

“They’re cameras, too,” Poppy continued. “She’s trying to keep a close eye on you, making sure you stay in her web.”

“Really? I knew there was something weird about them!” Yasmin threw a glance over her shoulder to reassure herself that the door was kept shut. “I never took her as the freaky-geeky mad scientist type.” 

The human-doll burst into a snicker and immediately held it back. “Trust me, no one would.”

Yasmin thought back to the first time she was spooked by one of those things. Maybe she was trying to downplay it so I wouldn’t get suspicious, and she did act pretty weird when I brought them up. And if she’s ‘Mommy’, then those are like her babies, in a way. She suppressed another gag. And spiders have hundreds and hundreds of…

Poppy must’ve picked up on her restlessness. “Guess I gave you another reason to want out, huh?” she said with a cheeky grin. 

Yasmin rubbed her arms in an attempt to relax. “And I guess I really know why you wanna stay in the bag — I don’t blame you. I can’t imagine spending so long trying to dodge both her and those things,” she said. “Hey, how long were you out last night? I don’t…” It was like a hand got stuck down her throat and pinched at her vocal cords — she lurched forward, blurting out the next few words, “I don’t like— I don’t want us being watched.” 

“Hey, don’t worry.” Poppy leaned in and grabbed her larger hand with both of hers, holding it gingerly. “I wasn’t out for long. None of them saw me either; I made sure of it. Besides, I needed a break from being in this stuffy old thing.”

Obviously, that last part was a joke, but Yasmin still took offense. “Stuffy? Old??” she gasped. “Well, I would have gotten something much flashier, but this was the only thing I could find that could carry this much stuff!”

Poppy laughed and sank back in the bag a bit. “Sorry!” she said, not sounding sincere in the slightest. “Now, about those keys… have you checked in there?” 

Yasmin looked to where she pointed her small finger — that box underneath the girl’s photos. She grimaced, and one of her fingers started picking at her hand. “Hey, that might be private…”

That earned her an ‘Are-You-Actually-Serious?’ face. “Okay, look, Yasmin, I‘ll make you a deal,” Poppy said matter-of-factly. “If the keys are in there, you don’t need to kill her.”

“Huh?” The fleshed flower almost grinned, but rushing worries stopped her from doing so. “But yesterday, you said—”

“I know, and it’s clear that you’re not cut out for it.”

That cut something deep within Yasmin, but she ignored it.  

“If the keys are in there,” Poppy continued, “then we’ll figure out a way to sneak by her. I’m…I’m sorry for pushing you so hard yesterday. But I took some time to think about it, and I realized I was wrong. Maybe we can get out of here without any bloodshed.”

NOW’S the time to smile, which she did with the most enthusiasm she’s had since she got here. Without much control over her arms, she attacked Poppy with a hug. “Ooohh! Yay!!” she yelled, swinging her tiny friend around.

“H-Hey! Put me down! What are you doing?!” Poppy yelled.

“You know what this is! It’s a hug!” She felt her hands push against her face, but in the moment, she didn’t care. Still, an annoying little voice gnawed at her joy: This is weird, though. Yesterday, she was so adamant. I guess we have been in here for a while, but she acted like she was ready to kill Mommy herself. 

Yasmin set the young girl back in the bag, giggling at her pout. I’m sure it’s okay. People are allowed to change their minds. 

“You didn’t let me finish!” Poppy whined. “That’s only if the keys are in there. If not, then they have to be on her — there can’t be anywhere else she could’ve hidden them, and looking for them will put us more at risk of being spotted by her cameras.”

Her happiness vanished. “So, then…” Yasmin began, already knowing where she was going.

“If we’re gonna get the keys, we’ll have to kill her. There’s no other way around it.”

“Uh…okay, b—” The audacity disappeared when another string of thumps banged against the walls, growing louder and louder. “She’s comin—!” Yasmin turned around to see Poppy already zipped up inside the bag. 

She pulled the bag on her back just in time — the door creaked open, and this time, the long-legged woman pushed it open all the way, her body covered in shadow with two white dots gazing with a deadpan stare. Bright light illuminated behind her. Never before has Yasmin ever seen something that filled her with both hope and despair at the same time. 

“Let’s…” Mommy paused. “Let’s go.”

Pursing her lips together, Yasmin nodded. “Once we get back in here, we’ll search that box,” she heard Poppy whisper. 

And with that, Mommy’s hand stretched and circled her waist, and she lifted her in the air. Yasmin held her breath and shut her eyes, holding on tightly to her arm until the ground kissed her shoes. 

She opened her eyes. The door from her dream stared straight at her from the side, inviting her to the depths of the factory, to those voices. She turned around — Mommy had already walked into the employee breakroom, so she held her breath and launched her hand at the handle, giving it a wiggle. Locked, as expected.

“I’m waiting for you,” Mommy called.

Yasmin held onto her bag’s straps, and a voice she didn’t recognize murmured inside her head. There’s no need or point to kill her. Just keep going, you’ll be fine. I’ll figure something out. 

There were flies. She blinked back to focus, sitting down at a table with 

Her stomach tore itself open.

“Mommy made this for you,” Mommy said, although her voice sounded more like an echoed mutter. 

She couldn’t hear much beyond the flies, soaring through the foul stench of rotting skin and decaying, stubborn bone. Blank holes gawked into nothing, sheltered by what must have been a healthy complexion, now a thin shadow of its former glory, sullied by dirty, dried blood, and topped off with a gaping mouth. Maggots crawled on its shriveled teeth. Its hair acted as its garnish on the plate it lay its fragile cheek on. 

“What is this?” Yasmin choked out. She heard a stomach growl, but it wasn’t hers.

“Your breakfast.” She tore her eyes from the head — something Mommy couldn’t do just yet by the looks of it. Her sunken eyes stayed on the bug-infested ‘meal’, licking her salivating lips, and another growl rumbled from her trembling body. 

Who was this? Yasmin thought, putting her attention back on the head.

“You enjoy, my dear,” Mommy said, heaving out a breath. Ignoring the incessant buzzing, her voice sounded so… dull, tired. Yasmin expected her to have a little bit of an attitude due to yesterday’s events, but it’s as if it never happened at all. 

“A-Are you okay?” she asked. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Huh?” Mommy glanced at her. “No… No, it’s okay.” 

It’s a warning. While the head’s skin drooped in on its own skull, there was still an, albeit faded, color, the remains of its owner’s ghost clinging to their earthly shell. They had to be the person Poppy was talking about. 

“Mommy’ll be prepping our game for the day,” Mommy said, and she turned around, preparing to walk out, to leave her alone, expecting her to eat them. 

Because it’s how she’s wired to think.

Yasmin caught something — on her back, when she turned, four deep gashes marked across her entire backside, each surrounded by a red, crusted barrier. They varied in size; something you’d see on a wounded animal after mistakenly crawling in a predator’s sight, and just barely escaping its claws’ reach. 

“Um…” She didn’t mean to speak, but as usual, her mouth became totally disconnected from her consciousness. Who could’ve hurt her like that?

Mommy looked back at her. “What is it?” 

Yasmin gulped. “D-Do you want to eat instead?”

She didn’t answer, but something flickered across her face for a second. 

“I-I mean, I’m not hungry, and I don’t wanna waste your… efforts, and you look exhausted, and uh…” Yasmin didn’t know what else to say. I can’t have her going hungry while she’s around me.

By the look on that face, she was fully prepared for another outburst, probably along the lines of being ungrateful for all the work she’s done to prepare such a tasteful start of the day, but without a second thought, Mommy dove right onto the table. The horrible sounds of skin tearing and bone crunching brought tears to Yasmin’s eyes, but who knows what eating that would do to her, especially after what that pink goop did to her (or is doing).

She didn’t have the energy to do much else, so she watched and gave silent apologies as the earthly shell disappeared down Mommy’s throat, bit by bit. 

She’s a monster, her mind suddenly spouted. Who knows how many are in her stomach?

But is it her fault?

Yasmin held herself. Of course, it’s her fault; she did it.

She was driven to do it. This is her ‘freedom’. Scrambling together excuses didn’t feel the greatest, but no matter what the reasons were, the other option just felt worse.

In the blink of an eye, only a black spongeified chunk nestled deep in the skull’s bowl remained. For a second, they looked like sandwiches. 

She doesn’t have to live like this. 

The plate was wiped clean. Mommy collapsed on the table, gasping heavily with a slight smile. Light slowly brightened her eyes. 

Yasmin let out the breath she had just now realized she was holding. “Um, excuse me?” she said.

“Yes, child?” the spider responded. She didn’t look at her, but her tone suggested that she was now much more attentive.

“About last night, I’m… I’m sorry.” 

Why are you apologizing? another voice hissed, and something deep — buried, incredibly in the depths of what she’s made of — bubbled. She hurt you. 

Keep going, it’s okay.

Mommy’s head perked up — that earned her full attention. “Why, I…” she started, her voice losing that momentum before she shook her head. “Yes, you do owe Mommy an apology! What you did yesterday was quite rude!” She wagged a finger and pouted, as if scolding a 7-year-old. 

Yasmin shrank in her seat and rubbed the bandages on her wrist. Mommy’s gaze trailed down to her stiff arm, and her expression softened. “I’m… I’m sorry too, sweet thing. Perhaps I was a bit too harsh.”

She glared at her. Yeah, maybe it was ‘a bit too harsh’ to almost shatter my wrists. Glad you figured that out.

“A-Anyway,” Mommy continued. “Since breakfast is done, let’s go start up that game of ours, shall we? I-I’m sure we’ll have so much fun! And…” She looked around the room, even behind her. “Stay close to me, okay?”

Nodding and following Mommy out the door, Yasmin squeezed her hands together to keep her from picking at them more than she already had. “Is this about those marks you have?”

The purplish-pink spider froze in place. From the tips of her ragged ponytail, all the way down to her shoes, quick tremors scattered throughout. A horrible malfunction in her voice made it drag down to several octaves to an unrecognizable degree as Mommy gradually turned her head completely around. “Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooo,” she said, her neck twisted with black oozing from the crevices, yet that smile held a perfect poise. “It’s just you and me.”

Yasmin blinked back tears and formed her own uneasy grin. “Okay,” she whispered. Ahhhh yayyyy some other crazy powerhouse is here; that’s so NEAT and AWESOME. She bit the insides of her mouth to keep herself from panicking too. 

Luckily for the nightmares she’ll be having again tonight, Mommy made sure she had a good look at that face before she untwisted her neck and marched on forward, latching a hand onto Yasmin’s collar and pulling her along.

I’m so fucked. I mean, I’ve been fucked since the day I got here. The smaller human glanced at every corner and vent, looking for even an iota of movement in the shadows. So who else is here that scares even this lunatic?? However, the second the most plausible answer popped in her head, she whisked it away in an instant — she can hardly handle Mommy, there’s no way she could start thinking about how to deal with that guy yet.

Poppy occasionally shifted around inside Yasmin’s bag, and feeling that up against her back somewhat reassured her. That, and Mommy’s towering figure above her head, limbs being bars of a protective cage with a slightly wider space between them, but it’s not like she could help it.

They both took turns wincing at anything that moved, whether it had been a flickering light, a disgusting black roach, or a dust bunny floating by. Neither of them said a word, though. 

Does Poppy know? Yasmin focused on her friend’s behavior — she caught fragile tremors shivering against her back, and she took it as confirmation and forced herself to face the music. We can’t leave the dome; thankfully, its size is no joke. I can probably convince her to stay on the forests’ outskirts, until this whole thing blows over — make them think we’ve disappeared for good. Maybe sneak back in by myself afterwards to get more people out. I’m sorry, Lee, but it looks like you’ll have to wait just a little longer. She sighed. First, before all that, how does this Prototype guy know we’re even here? 

She shifted her gaze up at Mommy, who stared forward, unblinking. Did she tell him? Said how I’m some sorta intruder trespassing in their home? The cold air piercing her naked arms made her hug herself. No, that doesn’t make any sense. He should know I’m on their side — or is this factory really that big?

They entered the GameStation, where a grabpack waited for them on the Statues’ closed entryway. Mommy crawled over and pulled down a handle at that panel near the train, and after slogging through another one of Stella’s fake praises, the gate ended up stuck, so Yasmin used her grabpack to put the emergency handle open. 

Mommy watched her with a smile. And why would he hurt her if she told him I’m here? Was it to punish her for not killing me on the spot? Before she knew it, Yasmin had the gate open completely, and the two (three, technically) headed down the steps. So why not now, especially with his eyes on her? 

Yasmin stopped. Unless this is where she’s planning to kill me.

“Ms. Yas-meen? What’s wrong?” Mommy said. 

“Kill her before she kills you.” 

Poppy’s words squeezed all the nerves inside her hands. Nothing but the thought of her fingers strangling that lanky pastel neck and somehow wringing it apart kissed dry skin after dry skin. She looked down at her hands. Red flecks gnawed at the overall pieced-together palms, and small epidermis specks chipped off at their barriers. They were sore, but still twitched, aching to ruin something — if not each other, then the monster.

But who was she to attempt something so grand?

Yasmin continued down the stairs and took off her bag. “Can I leave this here?” she asked. 

Mommy blinked, likely taking notice of her shift in attitude, then nodded in approval. 

The ragged girl turned around and set her bag on the ground. “Poppy, if I don’t return in an hour, get out of this bag and run,” she quickly whispered. The backpack shifted a few times and went still. 

Yasmin went on to follow Mommy, whose attitude very much conveniently brightened as she instructed her to turn on the power without regard to personal space. Meanwhile, she bit her mouth so much that her taste buds and nose were clogged with iron. 

When they were done, a gate opened, and she walked into her multi-colored, dust-filled, child-friendly tomb.

"Welcome to Statues!

This advanced obstacle course is designed to test your physical endurance and strength.

The rules are simple. The lights will turn off. You can move through the obstacle course at this time. However, when the lights turn on, you can look around but cannot move. You may move again once the lights turn back off.

The lovable PJ Pug-a-Pillar will follow you! If PJ reaches you, your test is over.

That's all. Good luck!"

That cardboard cutout seemed a lot friendlier compared to the dead dog eyes and long, hanging gray tongue floating next to the TV that gave the instructions. 

It was one of those instances where something was so hard to look at, and yet you couldn’t help but be in awe at how it exists in the first place; PJ engulfed that definition. A silly caterpillar dog with a stupid name, matted, discolored fur lathered in an unrecognizable liquid (but judging by the overwhelming smell, it must’ve been sweat), and outgrown jagged teeth. He wasn’t Bunzo — the way he huffed out laborious pants and could barely lift himself off the rubble invited Yasmin to comfort the poor thing, or at least take it out back and put it out of its misery.

Sweat dripped onto the floor with a putrid rhythm; if it weren’t for that plus the fact that its stomach would be digesting her in a few minutes, she’d be glad to give in to her desires. 

I did all this to die to some overgrown mutt simulating heat stroke. She couldn’t bother to make herself feel guilty after thinking something so harsh, nor was there any point in forming a plan to outrun that barely animated corpse, not when Mommy’s limbs flickered across the observation office’s window.

“I can’t wait to see how you’ve improved since last time, my sweet child!~” Mommy said with a slight hint of tease. Her shadow fully held onto the glass. 

Yes, please, keep rubbing it in. 

Yasmin waited for more sickly sweet nostalgic nonsense that it took her far too long to realize the lights had already blinked to semi-darkness; old-timey music blared, and that thing hobbled right for her. Hostility quickly turned to adrenaline, and she sprinted into the short maze. 

Halfway through, the lights flashed back on, but it was so fast she couldn’t think to make a smooth stop. Instead, her feet halted, causing her to tumble onto the floor. She was seventeen again. 

Above her, employees whispered, giving her strange looks. How could someone of this age mess up this badly, and the game had just started? It was a stupid assumption, and if she were anywhere else, those faces and whispers and possible conclusions wouldn’t hurt nearly as much. 

“It’s clear that you’re not cut out for it.”

The lights went off, and Yasmin got back up and started running again. Although she didn’t pay much attention to where she was headed, her body acted for her, climbing up something, sliding through a dark thing, tripping over everything. It’s not her fault her body wanted to move more than she did; it’s not her fault she got distracted by that pug climbing those poles and slides and rings, because she’s never seen anything like it before! It’s not her fault that she didn’t think these games were to be taken so seriously before she knew what they really were.

It’s not her fault that she can’t kill anyone. That’s why I’m gonna die. 

It became dark again, it became quiet again, and along with the pattern, she tripped and fell into something soft, facing up at the ceiling. The lights turned on, but she didn’t move.

Yasmin was 22 again. She looked to her right, and there was her mother. She looked to her left, and there were her siblings. Behind her, their house was on fire. She wore a gas mask. 

Get up, a little voice said.

I can’t. It’s all my fault.

The ground rumbled beneath her, and the sounds of the slogging pug-thing grew closer. It rose, its shadow covering the brown sky. Yasmin closed her eyes and waited for teeth to sink into her skin. 

To which none came. 

Something made the ground groan with a loud THUD. Yasmin opened her eyes and sat up — the pug thing lay on the ball pit of squishy blue squares, turned to its side, and panted much softer than before. Seconds later, its eyes became blank, and its mouth grew still, corners curled in a relieved smile. For once, it knew peace.

Pretty good time to feel bad about that thought she had earlier, but that guilt was replaced in an instant by dread. Her eyes darted to the office window; Mommy had vanished. Yasmin scrambled up to her feet in a last-ditch effort to regain her survival instincts until PJ’s long body started moving again, but from its back. 

Inside it, a large lump moved in the direction PJ left its body, following the path through its corpse, growing faster and faster to the point where she couldn’t comprehend just how quick it became— She fell back, tears and hyperventilation spilling all at once as the toy dog’s head rose, but firmly hung over its first set of shoulders, mouth agape and glassy eyes bulging. 

From within its mouth, Mommy’s smiling face emerged, drenched in an orangy-pink ooze. 

Yasmin felt herself sink back down in the ball pit as she grew closer, and without much of a thought, she flipped herself back over and covered her face. 

She screamed when her hand poked her leg.

…

…And apparently that’s all that happened— what is going on? 

She let go of her face and glanced back over at the nightmare. Mommy had demented joy smeared over that grin, and she brought a hand up to her lips and giggled. 

“My dear, don’t you know the rules?” she said. “When the lights are off, you get to move! Mommy gave you plenty of time to move your tush!”

Yasmin took that time to suck in all the air her lungs had lost. “You— I—” she stuttered. “I-I thought, I thought you were gonna kill me!”

Mommy winced. “Huh?”

“Th-The head, the…” She tried to get back on her feet, but stumbled and fell right back down. “That look in your eyes, last night, the cameras, the big guy! You were gonna kill me!”

The spider’s face softened. “Oh, dearie, Mommy already told you it’s just us here!” She crawled out of PJ’s mouth, to which she cringed while shaking her leg from its teeth. “Eugh, I was wondering when he’d finally keel over. But it looks like we have plenty of food for…” 

Their gaze locked for a few moments. Yasmin gulped, inching away from her.

“Dearie…” Mommy started. PJ’s blood dripped down from her cheeks. “You’re not afraid of Mommy, are you?”

Bubbles made of everything she felt in the past few moments — anger, paranoia, hostility, and whatever else that made her stomach gnaw its teeth against the rest of her organs — rose up from the tips of her toes to the peak of her skull. “Yes,” she whispered, then let her voice come to a rise. “YES! Of course I am! My wrists have been hurting all day because of you! You— You tried to make me eat a person! You, you, you, you won’t let me see my friends, and that’s not because I don’t want your company, I just want a family again! And-and-and, and for some reason you all are pitted against each other, when you’ve all gone through the same fucked up things, and I have to deal with it now too, but I CAN’T!”

Mommy stared at her, eyes widened with disbelief, then shrank into a glare. “Language, young lady.”

Yasmin’s face twitched, and without much thought left in her brain, she took off her grabpack, turned to the side, bent down, and shoved her entire head into the ball pit like an ostrich. 

“What are you? Doing??” Mommy asked.

“I DON’T KNOW GO AWAY,” she yelled. “Go ahead and kill me if you want.”

“Child—” 

Yasmin crossed her arms. 

“Uh, h-how about we do another game? Mommy can get something else prepared! P-Please don’t get angry at…!”

Silence persisted. She didn’t know how much time had passed, and she didn’t care. Pathetic sorrow made her sniffle and drop tears into the dusty squares, but at that moment, she’d rather cry in a musty ball pit than speak to her. 

“Mommy…” the spider started, clearing her throat and taking in several breaths. “M… No, no, don’t… Keep it, keep it that way. Yes.”

What is she on about?

Yasmin heard Mommy sigh and approach her. “Mom…I-I am angry,” she said in a clear voice. “But not at you, child. At this place.” 

She tried to calm down her sniffling to hear her better.

“That’s why you can’t leave, why you can’t go further,” Mommy continued. “Mo—I am sorry you had to see me like that. Mmm…I don’t want you dead, I don’t, Mmo…” 

Yasmin released herself from the pit, and her gaze landed on Mommy’s tear-stained face. Her mouth crumbled into a sharp frown, and she looked down at her one hand — she buried her face in it. 

Yasmin’s heart twisted in a shameful knot. Not really knowing what else to do, she sat beside her. Naturally, her body responded poorly, rising with panic to get her to pull back, but she ignored every bit. “Can I hug you?”

Mommy rose from her hand and looked at her.

“Hugs always make me feel better.”

The large pink-purple spider sniffed and turned her body slightly, and Yasmin took it as a yes, opening her arms and embracing her plastic body — a little awkward at first seeing how she was mostly string and two bubbles, but it worked out. She felt her arm twist around her torso several times.

“I don’t want to be like this!” Mommy cried. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I can’t be alone. I can’t be alone with him. I can’t! I’m sorry!”

Yasmin patted the back of her chest. “I’m sorry, too.” No angry voice made her regret saying that.

She let the woman sob in her hair for a while, probably for about thirty minutes or so, before they both broke away and sat in the pit. They were both quiet, but then, surprisingly, Mommy became the one to speak up first:

“We were all a family once,” she said.

Yasmin turned towards her.

“Him, the… He brought us all together. We wanted them all gone, and all we needed was someone bigger to allow us. Once he did, we became the happiest family ever. And then it just fell apart. We couldn’t leave, obviously, and no one could get us food from the outside. After we ran out of whatever the employees had stored, he told us to use them next.”

Jesus, that’s horrible, Yasmin commented in her head. But I guess the Prototype knew there wasn’t any other choice. Despite that, the thought of colorful Playtime Co. toys munching on human bodies did not make her organs happy.

Mommy continued. “You get used to the taste faster than you’d think, especially if it belonged to someone you hate. I thought that would keep us together, but then that little flower had to get in the way of it all.”

“Who?” Yasmin asked.

“Poppy.” 

Oh god.

A shadow fell upon Mommy’s face. “As one of the earliest experiments, she was practically just as much of a leader as he is. Later on down the line, I suppose wiping out the employees wasn’t enough for her, and she and a few others formed a rebellion against his vision for ‘Heaven’ — keeping the factory for ourselves as our only place for safety.”

“While Poppy wants out of here?” Yasmin said.

Mommy nodded. “I can’t say I blame her — this place hasn’t brought back a good memory for years. Although I didn’t pay too much attention to the whole scandal until we were all forced to pick sides.” She brought her knees up to her chest and scanned the area for a moment, stretching her neck to peer into shadows and corners, then brought them back to her body and spoke again. “I’d love to leave, but I know better than to chase some frivolous dream. She might have the privilege to resemble a human, but the rest of her delusional little rebels?” She threw back her head and laughed. “Ridiculous.”

That’s the pot calling the kettle black. Yasmin’s eyes narrowed, and her lingering suspicions rose back up. “A whole rebellion?” she said. And what else can I know about her that she won’t tell me?

“Yes, and he couldn’t have that. It took some time, but we drove her troops away from the factory depths. Their numbers surely dwindled, but he needed them all gone.”

Why didn’t she tell me about this? Anger began stirring inside her, but Yasmin pinched herself. She probably doesn’t know they’re still alive down there. And maybe she’s right, but if there’s a chance—!

“Where did the rest of them go?” she asked. 

Mommy shrugged. “If I knew, I’d tell him, and maybe then he’d keep his eyes off of me,” she hissed. “That’s why I haven’t necessarily been…on my best behavior.”

Yasmin scooted closer and rubbed her shoulder, to which she got a thankful smile. “Despite us pledging our loyalty, he still feels the need to watch us — every one of his allies. Perhaps an attempt to heal his ego after failing to locate the rest of the rebellion.” That last part was hardly audible, and she giggled loudly afterward. “He even thought sticking Poppy in that case as punishment would draw them out, but it seems it’d have to take more than that to get them to surrender. Ugh, and all that time guarding that girl…”

“Guarding?” Yasmin echoed. 

“He picked a few of us to keep watch over certain parts of the factory in case she escaped. She may be small, but her mind’s nothing to sneeze at, which is probably how she got that employee to do whatever she asked of them.”

Those sunken holes appeared before the fleshed flower, and she immediately dismissed the haunting memory. 

“Too bad they turned out to be quite the disappointment!” Mommy said in a sing-songy voice. “Oh, but they did manage to kill that blue fuzzball upstairs. So I had to be the one to hunt down that little runt all by myself! Days and days of hearing her scamper about, oh, it drove me crazy!”

No kidding. Yasmin leaned forward. “Why did you stop when I came here?”

Mommy hummed with a slight grin. “Why, I couldn’t just ignore you! And… I don’t really know.” She put her head on her knees. “Seeing you brought me back to a time where everything felt… Well, I can’t say ‘okay’, but something along those lines.”

Yasmin reflected her grin, but hers instantly dropped when she saw her rub behind her abdomen, right above the scratches. “Did he do that to you?” she asked. 

Mommy didn’t answer, but the deadpan stare answered her question. 

“Here…” Yasmin got up and went behind her, then dug her hand in her jacket’s pocket. 

“What are you doing, child?” Mommy asked..

“I found this, I guess, ointment you can call it? We shouldn’t use it too much, but it works wonders!” She brought out her water bottle and unscrewed it, then dug her fingers in the pink paste and smeared it over the wounds. 

Mommy squeaked and shuddered violently, then relaxed, letting out a deep sigh. Yasmin watched in awe as the plastic sealed itself, closing the black marks and covering them with purplish-pinkish toy skin. She screwed the lid back on and put it back in her pocket, while Mommy rubbed a hand over where the marks used to be.

“What was that, dear…?” she said as the flower sat back next to her.

“Weird pink stuff that can magically heal wounds, apparently,” Yasmin said. 

Unlike Poppy’s reaction, Mommy raised an eyebrow. “Strange, I feel like I’ve heard about that somewhere, perhaps in the labs…” she muttered, then groaned. “Ugh, I won’t bother. I think I’ve reminisced enough.”

Yasmin brought her hands together and let her thumbs circle each other. “Are you still scared about, um…”

“Yes,” Mommy said. “I’m sure that was only a warning. I appreciate the gesture, dear, but if I’m to keep myself this way, I’ll have to get back to finding that girl.” She brought her in for another hug and whispered, “Thank you” into her hair.

“So, does that mean he’s here…?” Yasmin asked, heart hammering against her chest.

To her shock, Mommy just casually sighed. “No.”

“It’s okay, you can tell me—”

“Thank you, dearie, but he isn’t here.” She chuckled. “If he were, we’d know by now. You can practically hear him from miles away.”

Yasmin cocked her head. “Then, how did he hurt you?”

“He’s got these annoying little claw-arm-things stationed all over the factory. Most of them are in the lower depths, but he got his spider henchmen crawling all over the place to install a few up here. It’s truly a wonder as to why he hasn’t caught that scampering nuisance yet.” She patted her hair affectionately. “At least he’s kept you alive.”

Yasmin leaned into her touch. “I guess that confirms he knows I— wait.” She moved out from under her hand and gave her the widest stare as her words sank in. “THOSE CAMERA SPIDERS DON’T BELONG TO YOU?”

Mommy flinched (maybe she didn’t need to be that loud). “N-No, why would you think that??” she said

“B-Because P—!” Yasmin immediately stopped and glanced around for an answer. “Because y-you’re spider, and they— they’re spider, I thought—!” PLEASE, FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE THIS IS THE TIME TO SAY SENTENCES NORMALLY. 

Mommy squinted her eyes at her, and right as she thought she had gotten caught red-handed, the toy-woman bellowed out a laugh. “Are you serious, child? I could NEVER control such ugly-looking things. I wouldn’t even know where to begin on how to do so.” 

Deep dread nestled in the pits of Yasmin’s insides. Oh Poppy… Oh just you wait until I get back. 

“Oh…” Mommy wiped a joyful tear from her eye. “Let us head back. I’ve got lunch to prepare! I could use the extra energy for later.” 

Yasmin froze, and her gaze landed on PJ’s corpse. “Uhm, I’m not hungry,” she quickly said. Strangely enough, that wasn’t a lie — When was the last time I’ve eaten?

Mommy huffed and put her hand on her trembling shoulder. “I know it might take some time for you to get used to it, but it’s best to get the first bite out of the way sooner or later. I can’t let my girl starve to death.” 

“No, seriously!” An unsettling feeling crawled up her back. “I haven’t felt hungry since I ate that pink goop…” 

Mommy scrunched up her face. “Why would you eat—? Actually, never mind, I have enough to worry about.” She went over and wrapped her arm around the large, fuzzy doggypillar and extended her legs to further support the new weight. 

“You know,” she said to Yasmin, “that worker was the last of them.”

“Huh?”

Mommy’s hollow stare made the room grow cold. “They were the last of the bodies.. Thank you for letting me have one last taste. Now we must eat what is left. Mommy hopes you keep that in mind.”

She walked out of the room. Yasmin couldn’t look at it, but a head stared up at her from her lap — this time, it was PJ’s.

Mommy dragged the corpse up the stairs, and she followed behind her with her backpack in her hands. Curses flowed from her gaze and to the bag; she debated on whether or not she had the heart to say them as soon as Poppy poked her head out, because one itty bitty voice fixed itself on giving her a chance to explain herself. 

She’s a traumatised little girl that’s been through a lot, and I’m a random stranger she just met, Yasmin told herself. She’s not gonna tell me everything… But WHY would she LIE TO ME about the CAMERA THINGS?

Her thoughts went back and forth on the matter until they both stepped back into the breakroom. 

Mommy set the corpse down near the table. Yasmin gazed at PJ with pity — most of his body trailed outside the room. 

“My, he’s as heavy as he looks…” Mommy said, then regained her bubbly nature and turned to her ‘child’. “Let me see that, dearie!”

Yasmin stumbled away from the hand stretching towards her backpack. “Wh-What? Why do you need this?”

“Don’t worry, sweet thing, Mommy’s just taking it back up to our room! You must be tired of carrying both that and the grabpack around all the time!” Without bothering to hear how she feels, she grabbed her bag, and her hand flew all the way out of the doorway, likely up to where her room is. Once it came back, she did the same with the grabpack.

“‘Our’ room?” Yasmin repeated.

“Of course. You’ve learned that this is your new home, so you get to have sleepovers with Mommy every night!”

“Oh,” she responded, then heard how blatantly unenthusiastic that sounded. “Uh, yay!” 

Mommy giggled at her ‘eagerness’ and made her way to the cabinets. Rather than pulling out something normal, like a plate or fork, she buried her hand deep into it and pulled out a whole-ass saw. Because that’s normal, just like everything else here. 

Looks like my talk with Poppy will have to wait, Yasmin thought as she sat at the table. She watched Mommy toss the saw around and set it down to adjust PJ’s body, and she readied herself for that awful, dead-body smell to get stronger. Well, I already knew she wasn’t so fond of this Prototype guy, for good reason, it looks like. It almost looked like Mommy’s wounds stayed on her back. But still… I hate to make excuses for the scumbag, but I can see where he’s coming from. He’s an experiment like the rest of them, one who’s been down here a long time — long enough to know this factory’s the only home they’ve got.

Mommy picked the saw back up and began pushing its blades into PJ’s wet fur. Yasmin forced herself to look at the sink’s dripping faucet. I wonder if Lee knows about him, she thought, hoping her questions would drown out that horrible squelching noise. Though that effort was made by flashes of Lee’s face twisting with irritation every time an employee came near his prison. I wouldn’t be surprised if he does. But I know he can’t support this kind of cruelty, even if he is… For a moment, she felt his fingers slide over her arms and body, growing tighter as his tongue reached her earlobe, and her limbs regurgitated violent shivers in response. Even if he is weird. He cares about them all. 

She shook the blush off her cheeks. This rebellion, this dictator stuff, all this lying and ‘kill her’ and ‘play this’, it’s all pointless. She remembered the trail from the dome’s entrance to Playtime’s. If they knew about the outside, there wouldn’t be a rebellion in the first place, and the Prototype wouldn’t need to go this far to keep everyone together. I can—

She was back at home laying beside her family, watching the sky become dust. 

Yasmin squeezed her wrist as hard as she could until the pain brought her back to the breakroom. She took a deep breath and looked at Mommy, who let out a frustrated grunt as she tried to keep PJ’s body still. I’ll at least tell her, and she can convince him. They can convince Poppy. I stay out of it.

She got out of her seat and walked over to the struggling woman, then kneeled and held down PJ’s body. Mommy looked at her and beamed, and began humming a tune as she sawed his head from his body. Torn flesh sang, and soon, bone screeched against metal. Yasmin bit at her mouth.

“Mommy?” she asked. God, I wish she remembered her name so I can call her that instead.

“Yes, child?” Mommy responded, keeping her gaze focused on sawing.

“Do you think you all could be a family again?” 

Mommy glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, the employees, the scientists, everyone who approved of this whole operation, they’re gone. There’s no one after you all anymore. I know this place has some bad memories, but if you all have to stay here, I’m sure it’s possible to turn it into something good, right?”

Red meat bled through the discolored fur, muscle, and tendon walls splitting from each other as PJ’s head slowly detached from its body. A slit then formed at the wall’s base, peeling open to reveal a hollow inside that was its body’s tunnel. A foul odor stung Yasmin’s eyes and invited the flies to PJ’s remains.

Mommy, however, remained the same. “Child, do you see what Mommy is doing?”

Yasmin glanced down at PJ’s dead face. “Yes, I do.”

“So you understand that your fantasy is ridiculous.”

She recoiled like a puppy that just got caught tearing up one of the sofa’s pillows.  

“It’s a sweet thought, yes,” Mommy said, “but we’ve grown past the point of it being likely. The only people who will ever come close to resembling a family are you and I.” She suddenly popped a lovely smile. “That’s why you’re helping me right now!

“Sure, but what about everyone else down in the depths?” Yasmin asked. “There has to be a way to reason with the Prototype!”

Mommy flinched, glaring daggers until her eyes squinted, and she threw back her head and let out the loudest laugh she’s heard (so far). “Oh, Ms. Yas-meen, you really are a funny one!” she said after moments of howling, and she stretched her neck to make her face come within centimeters of hers. “That is exactly why you cannot go down there.”

Yasmin’s fingers tightened against the dead dog’s fur. “I’m sure it’s awful down there, but—!”

“But nothing.” Mommy’s eyes went wide for a second, but she closed them, let out a deep sigh, and opened them back up — a normal green gazed back at Yasmin’s nervous brown irises. “Let’s not get into another scuffle, dear. I’m awfully tired, and—”

“The outside world doesn’t exist anymore!” 

Mommy’s chuckling face dropped into fixed shock, and she stopped sawing. 

Meanwhile, the weight had lifted off Yasmin’s shoulders, but it wasn’t enough. “Okay, well, it still exists, technically, but a-a war happened, and so much nuclear shit went off that poisoned the air and killed everyone. Or, not everyone, I’m still here, I don’t know if anyone else is alive out there, and, and, and…”

“Honestly, dear…” Mommy raised her head and held a disappointed scowl. “Does Mommy need to teach you how bad it is to lie?”

“Oh, no, no no no, we are NOT doing this again!” Yasmin stood up. “I am telling the truth. Why else do you think no crazy big FBI investigation came stormin’ into this place? What, is the dome soundproof too?”

The spider-woman moved back into her face. “You’re joking.”

“I-I-I-I! NO!” Swift breaths burst out of the smaller human as quickly as they were inhaled. “It’s true! It’s all true! I don’t have proof on me, but you can literally GO OUTSIDE and see it! The dome covering this place is HUGE! There’s so much to tell you about that, b-but you can just go to the Prototype a-and—and—and reason with him! And it can just be you, I’ll stay up here! And there’s no need for any rebellions or civil wars, you can just stay here and—!”

“Shhh…” Mommy put a hand on Yasmin’s back and brought her into her orbish chest. “It’s okay, Mommy understands.”

YOU DO NOT I PROMISE YOU DON’T. 

“Listen, she won’t let anyone hurt you,” she said in a pleasant tone that almost calmed her down. “Once she finds Poppy, we’ll be the family we always wanted. Mommy knows you had friends down there, but everything below us has nothing to do with you anymore.”

She let go of her, and Yasmin slunk to the ground. “This is a lot more serious than Mommy thought!” Mommy said. “Lunch can wait, she’s had her fill for today anyway. Don’t wander off now, dearie! Mommy’s off to fetch a doll.” 

And with that, she extended her legs and waved goodbye, and disappeared out the door. Heavy thumps followed through the walls, enthusiastically echoing across the Gamestation, and just moments later, Yasmin was alone. 

She looked down — flies caked PJ’s face. 

“Come back,” she whispered. “Come back. I didn’t come here for this.” Yasmin stood on her feet, swatting away at the bugs crawling over her body, suddenly overwhelmed by their tiny feet scampering on her skin. “Come back!” 

The walls were silent. She ran out of the room and down the hallway, dashing into the GameStation’s main floor. “I’m not lying! Everyone here is the only family I have left!” she screamed. Pain coursed through her wrists; however, it all became nothing. “Tell me what I can do to fix this! I’ll do anything! Just don’t leave me alone again!”

Her voice bounced off the factory walls. She was sure she screamed as loud as Mommy did, but even so, nothing responded. You said if I shouted, you’d come back. 

Yasmin hiccupped — tears blinded her, and she went over to the stairs leading up to the ruined train and sat down, covering her face in her hands. He said we could all be a family. He said once I came back, they’d all be together. I could join them. 

She looked up. A weird greenish-orange light poured from the room’s only windows. Along with the light, voices fluttered in, the opposite of her nightmare:

“Can you help me?”

“Are you sure they won’t see me? I-I can’t get in trouble again…”

“Don’t let go of my hand, please…”

This is all bullshit and stupid and I hate it. Yasmin slapped her cheeks and stood back up, then stormed into the middle of the Station. “HEY! ASSHOLE! I KNOW YOU’RE LISTENING!” she screamed, hopefully at something with a microphone. “GO OUTSIDE! GO SEE IT! IT’S ALL THERE!” She took a second to breathe; tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped down her chin. “No one can leave even if they wanted to. So you don’t need to hurt anyone anymore.”

Nothing responded; though, it didn’t need to. An idea popped into her head.

She lifted her head with a gasp. “Poppy.” Yasmin sprinted to the hallway with that damned locked door and breakroom, and she looked up. Up there, her room’s up there, I think, how did the workers get up there? She whirled around, looking for anything that could resemble a secret entrance—

Aaaand nothing. Yasmin groaned loudly and stomped back to the GameStation, plopping herself down on one of the swings at its playground. Mommy should be back soon. And…oh FUCK, how am I gonna talk to Poppy alone with her in there? She got off the swing and completely flopped onto the ground. …Ew, EW—!

Web residue tickled her nose and lips. Yasmin flew up and rubbed the strings off her face, but unlike before, these were much harder to pull off — tugging on them also tugged on her skin, too. She opened her mouth and spat out what could have entered.

Then, as soon as her lips were soaked in saliva, the back of her hand suddenly tore off some of the webs. Yasmin relaxed a little and spat on the back of her other hand, then smeared it all over her face and rubbed what remained with her shirt. Oh my gooodddd, life’s really hard, she internally whined.

But it’ll be worth it, that hopeful little voice said. Yes, it will be. Poppy can help me fix this. She’ll be devastated, yes, but… She propped her chin up. A drawing sat in front of her, of a child hugging an orange dinosaur creature with cute hearts floating around them. It shouldn’t be impossible to make this place into something happy again.

“Darrrrrrrrlliiiiiiiinnnnnggggg!~” 

Yasmin’s eyes fluttered open and— “JESUS!” Mommy’s face engulfed her vision right as she woke up, and she launched herself back with a yelp.

Strings of mischievous giggles left Mommy’s lips. “Oh, I’m so terribly sorry, dearie! You just looked so cute snoozing away like that!” 

“I didn’t notice I was taking a nap— uh— no, don’t—” Yasmin tried to move away from Mommy’s hand, but it successfully grabbed her cheek and pinched it softly. 

“It seems like both of us need some rest,” Mommy said. “I’ve looked for hours and still couldn’t find her…” 

The little flower squeaked at the stretching arm wrapping around her waist and torso, and she clenched every muscle as she was brought up in the air, higher, higher, and higher— I can’t look, nope, can’t look at all that. And she shut her eyes and ignored how unnatural it was for her to be dangling in the air like a doll being carried away to a child’s bedroom.

Thank goodness these trips were getting shorter and shorter. Before long, Mommy set the doll on her bed and closed the bedroom door. 

“How high up is this room?” Yasmin asked, eyeing her grabpack and unopened backpack in the corner. 

“High enough for the children not to notice where Mommy stayed,” Mommy explained while her arm stretched over to turn on the nightlight.

Webs from the ceiling reflected its beautiful hue, and for a moment or so, Yasmin let herself stare at them. 

Mommy rested beside her and stared up at her creation. “Sometimes,” she said, “Mommy pretends these are stars.”

Yasmin glanced at her. 

“You’ve seen them, haven’t you? Don’t they look like that?” She gazed up, pupils darting around ever so slightly, widened as if distant, glimmering wonders winked back at her. 

“They kind of do,” Yasmin said. “Actually, they look more like constellations, like in those textbooks where they map them out for you, and you can point them out while you’re looking up at the sky.”

A thin string dangled, reaching out for them both. 

“Mommy wouldn’t mind changing the GameStation, just a bit,” Mommy said. “So the constellations wouldn’t be stuck here.”

Yasmin scooted closer to her. “If there’s some paint around here, we can make the ceiling look like the night sky and do something like this.”

Human hope swirled in those green plastic eyes. “You’d do that for—for Mommy?” The more she said that name for herself, the more wrong it sounded. 

The nightlight flickered, and within that split second, they really did look like stars. “Yes,” Yasmin said. “And, if you want, I can also call you something else.”

Mommy tore her eyes from the ceiling. 

“Sorry, I just remember you saying the other night, how you mentioned wanting to be a ‘real mother’. Do you not feel that way now? If so, if calling you that name doesn’t feel good, we don’t have to stick with that. You can go by anything you want now, any name you want.”

“Mm…” she started. “Mm…Mar…” The second her most human-sounding voice squeaked out what resembled a name, she shook her head. “Mommy doesn’t know right now.”

She gently grabbed Yasmin’s shoulders and pulled her into her chest, brushing her fingertips against her back. Then, Mommy lay back on the bed, dragging her new doll with her, and after a long, quiet while, soft snores broke the silence. 

Yasmin waited, for how long, she didn’t know, but she waited until the snores grew deeper and louder, and she wiggled her shoulders. Mommy didn’t move, so she wiggled her entire upper body, and her arm loosened its grip. She took her foot and scooted out from her grasp, then took her hand and gingerly set it beside her. Her new friend continued catching up on the rest she desperately needed. 

After a few paranoid steps, Yasmin dashed to her backpack and unzipped it. “Poppy, you seriously have some expla—”

The little girl flew up from the bag and embraced her in a tight hug. She almost got her off, but the stifled sniffling and tears bleeding into her shirt stopped her. 

“Why would you scare me like that…!” Poppy whimpered quietly.

“Do what—? What did I do?” 

“You told me you were gonna die.”

Yasmin squinted her eyes at her, then took in a sharp breath. “Oh— Oh, you meant earlier when I— Ohhh…”

Poppy got off her chest and looked up at her with a flushed, sobbing face. 

“Okay, first of all, I’m very, very sorry about that!” Yasmin whispered-yelled. “Although technically I didn’t say I was gonna die, I just wanted to take precaution because I really thought that was gonna happen and I didn’t want you in danger and…”

The porcelain doll narrowed her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Yasmin said. “Mommy— she was wounded by the Prototype with these freaky claws, and I thought she was gonna kill me to appease him… I was gonna check on you, but then she took you back here with her really long arm and— I’m sorry, seriously!”

Poppy rubbed her eyes and sniffed. “It’s okay, all that matters is that you’re here. Now, let’s get going.”

Yasmin cocked her head, and all the color drained from her face. Right. The key. 

“That box over there,” Poppy said, “I’m sure it has what we need to get out of here. Now might be our only chance.” 

“Um, I actually need to talk to you about that. Like, right now.” Yasmin drew in a deep inhale, trying to gather up any courage.

“Don’t worry, everything’s gonna be fine, remember?” Poppy hopped out of the bag, holding something quite large and black in her hand…

“Wait, is that my knife?” Yasmin glanced from her specially hand-decorated (torn and scratched pink stickers) tactical knife to her very short friend. 

“Saw this in one of the pockets. You might need it,” Poppy plainly said. “Honestly, you should really keep this on you.”

“Poppy, wait a second—!” But she grabbed her hand and (with an impressive amount of strength for such a tiny person) dragged her over to the box. Yasmin glanced at Mommy, who still slept like a baby, her lips muttering something and giggling. 

“Here.” Poppy stopped them both in front of the box and laid the bigger flower’s hand on top of it. 

Yasmin bit at her sensitive mouth, her tongue probably bathing in the blood she drew. Her gaze was fixed on the box, but in her peripheral vision, both of her friends stared back at her. She took a deep breath and opened the box. 

The keys weren’t in there, just a few scraps of crumbled paper.

Poppy sighed. “I suppose there’s only one option le—”

“Yep, surrendering.”

Her eyebrows slightly furrowed together, like she said some weird joke, but when Yasmin showed off the most serious face she could make, her expression blew ablaze with bewilderment. “Excuse me?” she said, not quite so loud, but loud enough as if threatening to wake up Mommy. 

“Mommy told me everything,” Yasmin said. “Well, everything from her perspective. And now, I want to hear it from you.”

Poppy hopped on her lap and got in her face. “She’s lying.”

“A whole rebellion?” she continued. “And you were allies with the Prototype? Do you know how much easier this all could’ve been if you had told me this?” 

“So you believe everything she told you, but not me?” Poppy argued, completely ignoring her points. “Is it because she’s bigger than me? Is that it?”

Yasmin flinched. “No! Where did you get that from?”

“Why are you making this so difficult? We would be so much closer to freedom right about now!” Poppy’s nose flared. “Suddenly everything I say is wrong when I’ve been HELPING you this entire time, and yet you wanna trust the woman who’s given you every reason why she needs to be put down.”

“I’d trust you even more if you didn’t lie to me!”

They both fell silent, their pants and Mommy’s snores dancing throughout the room. Poppy crossed her arms and turned her back to her. 

Yasmin rubbed her temples. “You don’t need to tell me everything. But with your big whole secret ex-connection, I’m sure you knew about those cameras, and given this whole thing you’re doing—” She motioned her hand towards Poppy’s stance. “—I’m guessing what she said was right, down to the letter.”

The porcelain doll refused to respond. 

“That’s what I’m upset about right now. I know it might not seem like a big deal to you, but it is to me.” Yasmin slumped her shoulders. “Now, whatever reasons you have for running away from the depths, that’s completely your business. But doing that now, with his eyes and claws all over the place, it’s way too risky.”

“So you won’t help me?”

More words got caught in Yasmin’s throat — she swallowed most of them. “There is nothing, no one outside of this factory, and you will not survive out there.”

“I would if I wasn’t stuck in this.”

“Lord have mercy, I’m not speaking metaphorically!” She grabbed Poppy and turned her around. The knife flew out of her hands. “There is no other safe place outside of this factory for every living being on this planet. The air out there is so toxic, you’ll drown in your lungs seconds after breathing it in. Everyone out there is dead!”

Poppy tried to pry herself out of her grasp, but once she was finished speaking, she looked at her with a weirdly pleasant smile. “Oh! That makes this easier.” 

Yasmin’s face twisted to utter shock. “Ahahaa ahahaa what,” she muttered.

“I think you’re the one who could’ve saved us a lot of trouble!” Poppy giggled. “Mm, well, not really. Once we get Mommy out of the way, I’ll tell you everything.”

That charming all-American smile wore out its welcome. Yasmin’s eye twitched violently. “You… are THE MOST VIOLENT LITTLE GIRL I HAVE EVER MET IN MY LIFE!”

In the moment, letting out all those feelings was like a nose unclogging during the most heinous flu one could ever experience — only for it to be clogged up again seconds later, and it’d be like suffocating to death. That’s how this moment felt as the two flowers heard Mommy shuffle behind them. 

A hand ripped Poppy from Yasmin’s grasp.

She yelped and fell back. Blocking the nightlight’s shine, Mommy towered over her with gleaming white dots glaring at her shaken figure. 

“Ahhh, Ms. Poppy,” she hissed, bringing said girl close to her face. “It’s such a pleasure seeing you after all this time.”

Yasmin’s mouth moved faster than she could think. “YouknowIactuallyfoundthatdolllyingaroundIdidn’tknowthatwasPoppybutshecan’ttalkoranythingI’mprettysurethat’sjustatoy—”

“And you.” Mommy’s head jerked forward. “How funny of you to lecture her about telling the truth when you’ve lied straight to your mother’s face! It breaks my heart.”

Yasmin buried herself in the corner. All of her courage vanished, and familiar sickness steadily made its way up from her stomach. 

Mommy stood tall with a deep scowl. “Though I can’t blame you, after working with this one. Don’t worry, my child, I shall take care of her.”

Poppy’s eyes grew wide. “N-No!” she said, shaking her head. “Please, don’t do this! You know what he’d do to me!” Her efforts to get out of her grasp quickly proved meaningless. 

The way she yelled squeezed  Yasmin’s heart, and she stood, supporting herself against the wall. “Hey, wait a second, we can talk about this. Remember what I said earlier?”

Mommy rolled her eyes. “Dear, this is how we’ll be a family,” She shook Poppy around like she was just another toy. “You really think someone like him could ever be reasoned with? You’re talking about a man who’s been at the center of everyone losing their humanity. You should be grateful he hasn’t torn you apart for hiding away this little demon!”

She panted softly, then approached Yasmin with a twitching grin. “Besides, Mommy’s doing this for us. After all this is over, everything will go back to how it’s meant to be, forever and ever!” Mommy raised her leg and twisted it around Poppy, then held out her hand. “Now give me those keys.”

Yasmin trembled; so many things were hitting her all at once. “Wh-What are you talking about?”

Mommy scoffed. “Enough with the games, Yas-meen. The keys.”

“To that door by the breakroom? I don’t have them!” 

“H’oh, being a mother truly is the hardest job in the world.” She bent down on all threes and approached Yasmin, raising her hand in a claw-like motion. 

Yasmin shielded her face with her arms, bracing herself for a sharp pain, but instead, a gross, sticky substance began surrounding her body, clenching her legs together and all the way up to her neck, threads upon threads pinching and scratching at her nerves. 

She opened her eyes and looked down at herself — a gray silky cocoon encased almost her entire body. And it smelled awful. 

“Oh my god, no— no, please, get this off of me, THIS IS SO GROSS!” She squirmed in the new webbed prison that touched her everywhere in the most uncomfortable way possible. 

“Goodness, you’re so dramatic.” Mommy shook the remaining webs off her fingertips and patted the end of the silk line, making sure it stayed secured on the cocoon. “We are going to have a very long talk when I get back, young lady.” 

Poppy let out a horrible cry, arms outstretched towards Yasmin as she grew more distant within Mommy’s knee, and soon, those cries became muffled outside of the bedroom’s shut door, disappearing into their own echoes. 

Alone again, and it’s all her fault. 

She looked down at the webs. ...At least she didn’t shit them out. That’d be weird.