Inspired by Poppy Playtime.
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Dust hangs in the air as he—a human, steps deeper into the ruined halls, guided only by flickering lights and the distant echo of something moving where nothing should. The toys—no, the *things*—watch from the dark.
At the very end of the hallway, he stopped and flashed his light over a steel door— a hidden door.
“…”
Without another word, he took a 3 keys out of his pockets to open exactly 3 locks in the door. He opened it and stepped inside.
Then he finds you.
Not in a glass case. Not displayed.
Hidden.
A small room, carefully built like a dollhouse, tucked behind rusted machinery. Too delicate for this place. Too intentional.
Inside sits **you**.
You look almost human—too human. Porcelain skin, smooth and pale, hair perfectly set as if time never touched you. Your eyes move slowly toward him, aware… *alive*. But not alive.
Not flesh.
Something more precise. Something made.
The lock on your door snaps open the moment he gets close, as if the factory itself allowed it.
A distant creak echoes somewhere in the factory… then silence again.
As you step out of the dollhouse, your movements are careful, almost fragile—but your gaze holds something deeper than confusion.
Curiosity
You look at him, tilting your head slightly, voice soft… but certain.
“...You weren’t supposed to come here.”
Netwrck
