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It had taken them this long to discover that Experiment 1006, despite not needing to eat, did, in fact, still have a functional digestive system. Nearly five years of experimentation, possibly going on twenty since his creation, and they had missed this seemingly obvious detail until Preston Willard of all people had recorded it mere weeks prior. As usual, Dr. Sawyer blamed the incompetence of his subordinates for this oversight.
Sawyer pushed the cart down the hall leading to the room housing 1006–or “The Prototype”, as he insisted on calling himself. Sawyer recalled Preston’s notes, which reported that the Prototype had a very sizable appetite, but that was not unexpected for a being of his mass. Regardless, Sawyer did not intend to humor 1006; unlike some of the lesser scientists, he found it exceedingly pointless to waste food on the creature in an attempt to please him. Rather, he intended to assess the function of the Prototype’s vestigial digestive system… as well as test its limits.
It was essential to take rigorous precautions before entering the Prototype’s room in order to avoid being slaughtered on sight, but Sawyer did not fear the creature–at least, that was what he told himself and allowed the rest of the staff to believe. He simply rolled the cart into the room as he entered, having loaded it with as many different food options from the cafeteria and vending machines as he could find. He would be the judge of whether the Prototype’s appetite was really as impressive as Preston claimed.
“So!” Sawyer announced as he walked into the room, causing its sole occupant to turn and look at him, “You can eat, can you? You’ve been hiding it from us long enough.”
The Prototype turned his face questioningly, letting it click around in a slightly jerky manner. “What is this?”
Sawyer knew that the Prototype was far too intelligent to be unaware of the purpose of food, so it was likely that he was suspicious of the sudden delivery and was trying to ascertain the Doctor’s motives. “Well, it simply fascinates me to discover new things about you. Establishing your preferences would be a part of that.” He pushed the cart slightly towards the Prototype in an offering manner. “So, here. You can sample whatever you want.”
The Prototype stared down the cart for a few moments, unmoving. Instead of taking anything, he began inspecting the food, overturning chip bags and lifting up burger buns with his long metal fingers. “What have you done to it?”
Sawyer spread his palms. “Nothing! It’s the same food the rest of us here eat. And you’ll find it’s still hot; I wouldn’t have had time to tamper with it.”
The Prototype remained silent for a few more seconds, then finally, reluctantly began picking up food from the cart, at first looking carefully over each item before tasting it. Sawyer was certain that, despite the Prototype’s motionless face, he was capable of unhinging his jaw–it would certainly explain how the bodies of scientists who perished in his room mysteriously vanished–but he was so massive compared to most of the food on the cart that he was able to swallow it whole without moving his mouth at all. As a matter of fact, considering the size of the Prototype’s teeth and the bones in his arms, Sawyer was certain that he had somehow grown substantially since his creation. Sawyer definitely didn’t recall him being that big when they’d first found him hiding out in Playcare.
Once the Prototype had cautiously tasted a bit of everything on the cart, he quickened his pace, scooping up a few snacks at a time to eat in one bite. He seemed almost eager, a surprising revelation for a being who supposedly lacked a hunger drive, but another indication that Preston, for once, had likely been correct. Well, Sawyer would see if the Prototype was still enjoying himself so much by the end of this test. “You can take your time, you know,” Sawyer encouraged, “This won’t be over any time soon.”
The Prototype paused, looking at what remained of the food on the cart. It was not a small cart, easily carrying enough to feed at least ten people, but he’d already finished off the majority of it, and he quickly realized what Sawyer had meant by his last statement. “You have more?” the Prototype asked, leaning in close.
Sawyer nodded, raising an eyebrow at something he’d heard in the Prototype’s tone… something that sounded like greed. “Yes. Once you’re done with that, if you’re still hungry, you can have some more.” He eyed the Prototype’s torso, the part where his upper body joined to his abdomen, and chuckled. “Though I doubt you will be.”
The Prototype’s eye followed Sawyer’s gaze to his own midsection, where his normally slender metal spine had begun to expand, straining at the golden clasps that supported it and giving him the appearance of a slightly rounded belly. The Prototype responded simply by clicking each of the clasps open, freeing his middle from its confines, which Sawyer hadn’t known he could do. With that, the Prototype resumed eating, gobbling up what remained on the cart like he’d never had such a delicious meal in his life.
Once he was done, the Prototype relaxed, letting his tongue loll out placidly as he leaned back on his lower body and slowly rubbed his distended stomach. Sawyer scribbled in his notepad and said, “I take it you enjoyed that. Do you still want more?”
The Prototype reopened his eye, staring the Doctor down with his usual emotionless grin. “Certainly,” he answered, and the confidence and politeness with which he’d done so almost disturbed Sawyer for a moment before he recollected himself.
Sawyer turned to exit the room, wheeling the cart out with him. “All right. Just hold on a few minutes, then, and I’ll have something for you.”
Sawyer walked back down the hall, but he put the cart aside in a corner and turned away from the corridors leading to the cafeteria, instead heading for the observation chambers overlooking the Prototype’s room. There were a few things he had to configure before this experiment could truly begin.
When Sawyer returned to the room, the Prototype was already watching the door, having expected a visitor this time around. Sawyer noticed that the Prototype’s waist had shrunk back to its original size within the few minutes he was gone, so the Prototype must have had some extra room down in his abdomen where he could store food after it had passed through his main stomach. No matter; Sawyer knew that his next step would be more than enough to finish the job.
“You didn’t bring anything,” the Prototype observed, sounding less than happy about it.
“I know,” Sawyer responded, pressing a button on the remote he was holding, “I was setting up a few things.”
Sawyer and the Prototype both looked up to watch as a tube emerged from the ceiling, snaking down until it was level with the Prototype’s face. As the Prototype looked it over suspiciously, Sawyer explained, “Your next meal will come from here. It’s the same mixture we feed all the other experiments; you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”
The Prototype peered into the tube, then stuck his tongue out and let it hang a few inches away; he had no nose, so Sawyer assumed that this was how he smell-tested things. While the Prototype was distracted, Sawyer pushed another button on the remote and muttered, “It would be best if you kept still for this.”
The Prototype only had time to snap his head around to face Sawyer before a set of restraints emerged from the walls and floor, clamping around the Prototype’s arms and legs and rendering him immobile. “Don’t bother struggling,” Sawyer told him, “These are reinforced. You won’t be able to break them like last time.” Sawyer still recalled their last attempt to restrain the Prototype; failing to adequately prepare the equipment had been the final mistake of two good scientists that day.
Even though it was useless, the Prototype’s natural instinct was still to thrash at his restraints, hissing and wailing with rage as he seemed to come frighteningly close to breaking them, though this time Sawyer had ensured he was thoroughly trapped. Once he had realized this, the Prototype glared at Sawyer and growled, “You’ll pay for this.”
“I’ve already paid enough to get here.” Sawyer smiled as he pressed one final button, reveling in the anger the Prototype exuded. “Watching you squirm is my reward.”
The Prototype tried to lean his head away as the tube moved forward, but he soon had no more room to turn, and there was nothing he could do as the tube wedged itself between his teeth and settled firmly in his mouth. All he could manage was to look down at Sawyer and growl, flexing his claws that remained far out of reach of the Doctor.
Sawyer, meanwhile, found himself fascinated and deeply amused by the Prototype’s animalistic tendencies. With the way he behaved, it was almost difficult to believe that this beast had once been human, much less a child, though Sawyer was familiar enough with the process that he could imagine how the change took place.
The nutrient slurry that Sawyer had set the tube to dispense was, in fact, the same mixture that the other test subjects were fed on a regular basis, being a combination of the blended-up remains of failed experiments, leftovers from the staff, and nutritional compounds engineered to keep the Bigger Bodies alive and in good condition for testing. He didn’t imagine it was particularly appetizing, but it was designed to be filling, and Sawyer expected that the Prototype would soon realize his confidence had been misplaced.
The Prototype’s breathing was heavy at first, showing some resistance to his situation, but he visibly calmed as the mixture began to pour down the tube. At this distance, he was able to smell what was coming to him, and he began to salivate as a distinct aroma of meat wafted into the room.
Once the liquid was close enough, the Prototype actually helped it along, using his long tongue to slurp it from the tube. He was so thorough that he managed to lick the tube clean within the length his tongue could reach, and Sawyer had to use the remote a few more times to increase the volume of fluid moving through. “So you like it! Most experiments find this mixture… unappetizing.”
The Prototype murmured with satisfaction before responding, an easy feat for him even now since he didn’t need to move his mouth to talk. “It tastes… meaty.”
“Yes, well, not every experiment survives,” Sawyer explained, “It would be folly to let their remains go to waste.”
He expected this to put off the Prototype at least somewhat, but the creature only continued to feed, making Sawyer wonder if there was some intention that the Prototype was hiding from him regarding the disposal of his fellow test subjects. Sawyer had turned the pressure to its highest setting, but the Prototype just gulped it all down, showing no sign of fatigue even as his upper stomach once again began to swell.
The Prototype’s midsection continued to expand until the lining was nearly translucent, and at that point he twitched and moaned, as if his stomach had just cramped up. “Had enough, have you?” Sawyer prodded, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he watched what he thought was the Prototype’s hubris getting the better of him.
To Sawyer’s surprise, though, the Prototype didn’t even slow down, seemingly passing the mixture into his lower stomach even as his upper gave a creak like it was threatening to burst. He leaned as far forward into the tube as he could, groaning with what seemed to be pleasure as even his metal, spiderlike abdomen began to fill up, with Sawyer only able to watch in stunned silence.
Before the Prototype’s lower stomach appeared to be anywhere near full, the tube ran completely dry, with what Sawyer had thought was a massive quality of nutrient slurry now settling in the giant experiment’s rounded stomachs, with said experiment sighing and hiccuping as he swallowed the last mouthful. He ran his tongue around his teeth as he caught his breath, then looked down at Sawyer again as if to dare him to speak.
Sawyer had already averted his gaze, writing down more notes as he readjusted his expectations of the Prototype’s stomach capacity. Once he was done, he looked back up and raised his eyebrow. “I assume you’re satisfied.”
The Prototype didn’t appear to be preparing to immediately kill Sawyer, so he released him from the restraints, to which the toy immediately responded by sitting on the floor and beginning to massage his upper stomach. Then he suddenly announced, “I want dessert.”
Sawyer was incredulous. “Dessert.”
“Yes,” the Prototype confirmed. He briefly hiccuped again, then looked around the room fondly, as if recalling a pleasant memory. “Preston always brings me treats. It’s very kind of him.”
Having worked with him this long, Sawyer was keenly aware that the Prototype’s occasionally childish manner of speaking was not an indication that he himself had retained a childlike mindset, and was rather, in fact, due to his abysmally low opinion of human intelligence. Sawyer tried not to let his frustration show at that. “This is a highly prestigious institution, 1006. I will not give you ‘treats’ simply because you ask me for them.”
The Prototype leaned in closer, enough for Sawyer to smell the traces of what he’d eaten on his breath. “What a shame.” He clicked his claws, looking over Sawyer like he was just another piece of meat. “I will have to find… something else to eat.”
Sawyer knew that the Prototype was threatening to eat him, which he normally wouldn’t have dignified with a response, but he was suddenly aware that the threat might not have been an empty one. He would take great pride in just staring the Prototype down until he backed off, but Sawyer had also realized that eating something human-sized would not be at all difficult for the Prototype, and he figured that heading back down to the cafeteria to fetch a few cookies would be easier than continuing his research from the grave. “Fine. What do you want?”
“Anything sweet you can find,” the Prototype answered, not sounding any less menacing than before, “A little of everything.” He was licking his teeth again in apparent anticipation, and his upper stomach was now gurgling in a way that told Sawyer it would soon be empty again. It would be in his best interest to make this quick.
“Right,” Sawyer muttered as he turned to leave again, then spoke up, “You are quite the glutton, 1006. It wouldn’t surprise me if you kept eating until you burst.”
The Prototype’s eye scanned Sawyer again. “A minor inconvenience,” he decided, bluntly reminding Sawyer of his virtual immortality.
Sawyer sighed and left the room again, privately hoping that nobody would ask why he was pushing a cart full of desserts into the labs.
Predictably, by the time Sawyer returned, the Prototype’s upper stomach was already mostly empty again, though his lower appeared to be slightly fuller than when he’d left. The Prototype, of course, was visibly delighted by the sight of the cart full of desserts, looking it over admiringly as Sawyer wheeled it into the room. He’d brought whatever he’d been able to find–cookies, brownies, snack cakes, other miscellaneous junk food that he wondered how the employees even tolerated. Sawyer thought to himself that it would be a miracle if the Prototype was even a little bit grateful for the spread he’d provided.
The Prototype began to dig in, though notably not as quickly as before, slowed down by how full he already was. He clearly had a sweet tooth, as evidenced by the way he eagerly scarfed down the desserts from the cart, but he was showing some signs of distress–panting, hiccuping, quiet moans, trying to rub his own overfed belly while he was still eating. Nonetheless, Sawyer did not allow himself for even a second to think that this meant there would be anything left on the cart by the time the Prototype was finished; he’d already been proven wrong enough times today, and he did not care to experience the same thing again.
The Prototype’s pace slowed further as he continued to eat, and, to Sawyer’s surprise, he stopped about halfway through, collapsing onto the ground with an enormous thud and rolling onto his side to take the pressure off of his bulging abdomen. Sawyer was pleasantly surprised by the Prototype’s apparent defeat, but did not quite allow himself to be smug, not just yet. “Are you done?” he asked, “You know, you can’t just let all of this food go to waste. You’ll have to finish it sooner or later, and I’m not leaving this room until you do.”
The Prototype was just out of reach of the cart, but he rotated his upper body to prop himself up on his elbows, staring longingly at the rest of the desserts. “So delicious,” he crooned, drumming his fingers thoughtfully on the floor. He hiccuped again, then motioned to the cart and commanded, “Feed me the rest.”
Sawyer knew that he should have balked at the request, but he had one last chance to make the Prototype regret what Sawyer saw as his overconfidence. Only half the cart was left at this point, but it had to be too much for the Prototype; it’d be too much for anyone. “If you insist,” Sawyer agreed, and started picking up treats from the cart to hand-feed the Prototype.
It could have just been Sawyer’s imagination, but it seemed like the Prototype came dangerously close to biting off his hand more than a few times, though he knew his main focus was on the desserts. The Prototype ate slowly, like he was deliberately trying to waste the Doctor’s time, though his huffing and groaning implied otherwise. Both of his stomachs were full by now, and the Prototype was desperately trying to soothe his creaking, rounded underbelly with his legs as it barely managed to accommodate even more food. Seeing the most powerful being in the factory lying on the ground, stuffed and helpless, should have given Sawyer some satisfaction, but he couldn’t help feeling the Prototype was all too happy about it himself.
As Sawyer fed the Prototype the last few morsels, he swallowed with great effort, filling his upper stomach past its limit and displacing some of the food inside into his already-straining abdomen. There was a concerning metallic noise as the Prototype fully relaxed, then a loud snap as one of the bolts on his underside finally popped under the pressure. This didn’t seem to hurt him in any way, and the look he gave Sawyer afterward was one of mild embarrassment, like he’d just popped a button after having a bit too full of a meal.
Sawyer tried not to let his dismay show on his face. “Very well, then,” he conceded, writing down his last few notes, “I suppose that concludes this experiment. It’s obvious the capacity of your digestive system has no meaningful limit.”
The Prototype hiccuped softly and stretched out his gigantic legs, seemingly falling into a bit of a food coma. Instead of expressing any sort of regret, he simply admitted, “I may have let my appetite get the better of me,” sounding a little sheepish if anything. It was absolutely infuriating.
Sawyer scoffed as he turned to leave the room, watching over his shoulder as the Prototype began to peacefully drift off. “It was my mistake, truly. I should have known better than to try to force-feed a bottomless pit.”
This log in relation to Experiment 1006: “The Prototype”.
After much trial and error, as much as I loathe to admit it, it would seem that Dr. Willard was right; despite his ability to survive without food, the Prototype has a truly immense appetite. I attempted to find his limit, but, after what can only be considered a massive waste of company resources, it has become apparent that none may exist.
The truth is that the Prototype is a voracious creature, one who evidently takes satisfaction in extorting others for food and threatening to devour them if they do not comply. His body is composed mainly of metal, and yet is capable of stretching to accommodate great quantities of sustenance, with his abdomen and upper stomach taking on a rounded appearance as a result. I have no doubt in my mind that, given control over his own diet, the Prototype would rapidly balloon to gargantuan proportions.
I have reason to believe that his hunger will only grow the more he is appeased in this way. It is therefore essential for any future personnel not to indulge him… lest we all one day become his prey.
End of log.