Chapter Text
“I won’t sacrifice our plan because… because of me.”
Yin barely paid attention to what Poppy was saying. Her false humility grated on him and he was far more concerned with the toys they were forced to leave behind. That last view he had of CatNap leaping across the tunnel’s mouth while Kissy shrieked in pain had set his heart in his throat and it hadn’t gone back down, even as the platform he stood on descended story after story into the depths of the earth.
DogDay hadn’t looked down. He paced for a little while then settled for staying beside Yin, eyes fixed on that distant ceiling where he’d left his brother.
Poppy was still talking. “It’s hell. And Playtime wanted it to be.”
DogDay looked at her. “You’re going to find CatNap too, right?”
She sighed. “If he’s there, I’ll find him.” Her words held little weight and Yin doubted she’d try to go out of her way for anyone other than Kissy. The doll’s distaste toward CatNap wasn’t subtle. Yin couldn’t blame her, but he was also concerned about the cat. CatNap had wanted to stay above and away from the Prototype, but if circumstances forced him down here, closer than ever to the object of his suffering….
An all-encompassing dread hung around Yin like a thick fog.
The lift settled at the bottom of the deep shaft. Yin stepped off but DogDay lingered, glancing between the man and the ceiling.
Yin ticked his tongue and waved for DogDay to join him. DogDay started to move but still hesitated. “But… I could help find CatNap.”
Poppy sighed again, louder this time. “Don’t worry about him. Help guide our friend to our allies. We’ll meet you later.”
DogDay relented, walking on his hands to join Yin at the entrance to a loading bay. They watched Poppy go back up the lift for a few seconds before Yin nudged DogDay and they moved forward into the loading bay.
As they walked, Yin fished his notebook from his pocket. “He’ll be okay,” he wrote and showed DogDay.
The dog nodded. “I’m sure he will, but I’m still worried. He just broke free of the Prototype and… and I’m worried he’s going to get lost if something bad happens. If the Prototype comes back, what if CatNap won’t be able to fight him off? O-or what if he goes back to worshipping the Prototype again?”
Yin wrote again. “His so-called god ripped off his ear and his arm. Then he spent about a day protecting and feeding a “heretic.” I think he’ll be fine.”
“Hah. I hope you’re right, Angel.”
Yin scoffed lightheartedly at the toy’s insistent use of the nickname. They made their way through the loading bay and a few cave tunnels to a tied up door. Yin used the flare gun to burn away the ropes and took the handles.
“Angel, wait.”
Yin glanced at DogDay.
“The path to the prison is through here and it’s… it’s bad. It’s a dumping ground for whatever bodies weren’t of use anymore.”
Yin furrowed his brow. A prison? There was a prison under Playcare? He knew of the experiments, adults and children alike turned into (or fed to) toys, but a prison? Apparently there were things even further above his classified pay grade.
Yin looked back at the door and figured he’d face the inevitable, pulling the doors apart.
The smell hit him first. Salt and iron and fabric, like carpet molding with vomit and blood. He lifted a hand to his nose but the smell seemed to seep into his eyes and skin.
As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, the lumpy mounds taking up most of his view became recognizable collections of colors and mouths and empty eyes.
At least there was a relatively clear path through them.
Yin breathed shallowly through his nose as he descended the stairs, DogDay at his heels. It sounded like DogDay was also breathing as lightly as he could. “There’s… so many more than before…” he whispered. Yin gave him a wide-eyed glance, his jaw tight.
They walked between the piles to the fence in front of a solid concrete building. As they approached, a spotlight suddenly blinded them and a klaxon roared through the eerie silence.
Toys started stirring in the piles. Handfuls of little Huggy toys squirmed out from under the bodies and scrambled straight for Yin and DogDay. Yin brandished his flare gun and took aim, scattering the little toys.
“Angel! The door!”
The thick prison door was closing. Yin followed DogDay through the fence but he could already tell he wouldn’t make it.
The door sealed shut. The little toys burrowed back into the piles. Silence descended again.
Yin exhaled and knocked his fist against the door. DogDay voiced Yin’s conclusion. “We need another way inside.”
They went back through the fence and split up in different directions. Yin found a slip of old paper with thick pencil writing. It was Playtime brand paper, the material bordered with a Huggy and little patterns. The words were shaky and faded, barely legible. He could make out a name, though. Riley. He couldn’t read much else, mildew and old gore taking up the rest of the page.
He wondered about Riley. If she was among these piles somewhere. If she was afraid. If she tried to be brave. If she was somewhere better now.
“Angel!”
Yin put the paper down and looked to where DogDay was. The toy was pointing up one of the piles. “Up there! The wall’s broken.”
Yin joined DogDay in climbing—and occasionally slipping—up the pile of toy bodies. They navigated the tunnels easily enough, and Yin had time to ask DogDay a few questions.
“Where exactly are we headed? And who were the allies Poppy mentioned?”
DogDay perked up. “Oh yes! We’re headed past the prison to a place called Safe Haven. Its protector is a longtime friend of ours called Doey.”
Yin chuckled. “That little slime guy from the 90s?” he wrote.
“Heheh! Oh he’s not so small anymore. He’s like us, a bigger body type. Nine hundred pounds of him.”
Yin couldn’t hold back a noise of shock which DogDay found amusing. “It’s okay, he knows to expect us. At least, I hope he does. He knows me and I’ll make sure to tell him not to flatten you on sight.”
Yin wrote another question. “I’m assuming Safe Haven is what it advertises? A safe place?”
DogDay nodded and his voice softened. “Yes! It’s homey and small, but it is indeed safe. Doey has fought so hard to keep it that way. Maybe he fights harder than he needs to but… he’s a good guy. Takes things to heart and really stepped up when it mattered.”
“You’ve known him a while?”
“Yes. I knew of him before the Hour but never properly met until after. He helped us survive in Playcare for a long time, getting us proper food when…” he needed a few seconds before admitting, “when CatNap cut us off… and then started cutting us down.”
They stopped walking. DogDay stared at the ground. “I know the saying goes ‘forgive and forget’ and I do forgive him. I do, he… maybe doesn’t deserve it but he needs it. I do forgive him. But I can’t forget all that either.”
Yin kept his letters distinct. “Neither can he.”
DogDay shuddered. Yin changed the subject. “Is Doey nice?”
DogDay willingly picked up the new topic and continued walking. “He is! Well, he… hm. He is very kind with those he trusts, but he’s not naive. He’ll give you the benefit of the doubt because we trust you, but it might take a little while for him to trust you himself.
“He can also… be a little unpredictable. He feels emotions very strongly. It helps where it matters and he’s usually good at channeling his emotions toward good things, but there’s been times… e-especially if someone under his care is hurt… he shifts from anger to grief to apathy and back at the drop of a hat. I’ve only seen it once but it was… a little frightening.
“But you don’t have to worry, Angel. Doey is good people and having him with us will be a great help. We might even get a proper nap while at Safe Haven, hahah!”
Yin chuckled too. “I’m sure a certain cat would enjoy that.”
They made it into some kind of loading dock for a train. Thick metal cars were left abandoned on the back of the train, and one was still hung up on a crane.
DogDay growled. “This train goes into the prison. Those cars are cells. They’d drive it right into a cell wing and set them inside, leaving whatever was in the cells to rot and cry and slowly lose hope.”
Yin put his hand on DogDay’s head and pet him gently. The tension eased from DogDay’s shoulders and he leaned against Yin. “Sorry. This place is… well, like Poppy said. It’s hell. There’s nothing good to remember of it.”
Taking out his pen, Yin replied. “At least we’re not alone in it.”
DogDay hummed and smiled. “Yeah. That’s true.”
They found the key (Yin wondered if DogDay’s skull looked like the one in that cell), unlocked the power station (Yin felt almost nothing for the corpse nearby), and powered up the train again.
One of the box car cell doors started to open but seemed stuck. DogDay went to it and started pulling at it, showing surprising strength despite his lack of legs. “Angel, get in. We’ll ride it into the prison.”
Yin wrote a hasty argument. “Can’t we sit between the cars there?”
“The ride won’t be gentle. Unless you want to get smacked in the face with a twelve-foot steel hand, we should be in the steel box.” The hand he was bracing with slipped. “H-hurry and get in, I can’t keep it open for too long!”
Yin holstered the GrabPack hands and turned sideways to squeeze into the box. He turned to brace it from the other side to let DogDay in, but as soon as the toy loosened his grip, the door groaned shut, locking Yin inside and DogDay out.
“Angel! No, no, no!” Yin could see DogDay through the slit in the door. The room rattled as the train started to move. “Angel! I’ll find you; just be careful!”
Yin stumbled as the train lurched forward. He braced himself against the wall to keep from falling over. ‘The ride won’t be gentle’, it felt like it was going over potholes!
Then the tv in the upper corner flickered to life with that familiar click-squeal and the voice that came through dumped ice down Yin’s spine.
“Hm. Now what’s this? Something crawling beneath my skin? Do I detect an invading little germ after all this time?”
The eye on the screen looked Yin up and down. “Ah yes. You. The little pest causing all that trouble above has finally burrowed its way to me.
“Well, little germ, welcome to my circle of hell. Nothing is in your control anymore. Not even the ground beneath your feet is trustworthy.”
The ice in Yin’s spine seeped into his ribs as prickling hot rage. Sawyer. Yin had never seen the sadistic surgeon in person, but he knew the name and he knew the voice all too well. Yin technically worked in Sawyer’s department. He hoped Sawyer didn’t recognize him.
Something massive slammed against the side of the cell wall, sending Yin’s head crashing against the metal cabinet beside him.
A spear of white hot agony shot through his skull.
He was unconscious before he hit the floor.