Poppy Playtime: Oneshots/Short-stories

Death's Anthem.

Disclaimer: I don't own Poppy Playtime (Video Game). I don't own the picture (cover). Or the song if I put one in.

(qwertuno and SilentReadersMatter)

(Hope you enjoy.)

The toy wandered through the factory on foot. The destination in their mind was a secret kept away from anyone they knew. If this secret were to be spilled, then they'd be even more of laughing stock then they already were. At least this way, they would go with a sense of dignity. Even so, they were nervous about who exactly they were tracking down.

Please listen before you kill me.

The lingering anxiety was only kept at bay by the overpowering sense of euphoria they were experiencing as they searched for him of all toys. The traveler sighed, then let the mask fall of off their face. Their tired eyes, the frown, and even the despair came rolling in. After keeping it locked for so long, they were relieved that they would get to experience some sort of emotional reprise before their final moments in this factory.

Who dares enter my domain?

The chilling, yet soft voice paused the toy in their tracks. Considering their options, they were already too late before a voice took ahold of mouth and spilled out the words.

"I seek rest."

The three words a toy was to never say around him. And now that they had given unspoken permission, a purr resonated through the room (mainly in their mind) and they felt a pleasant chill go down their metaphorical spine. The soft sound of something jumping from one object to another echoed before someone dropped in front of them. Hands cupping their chest, the toy then felt at ease as they stared into the eyes of the abomination known to the rest of the experiments.

It's okay. I'm here. Let down the mask.

And they were tired. Their eyes closed, they leaned against the metallic chest of their comforter, the hands smoothing through the fur of this toy. The monster they all feared spoke again. This time, they did not fear the question.

You are aware of the price for your freedom?

An unspoken command slipped into their mind. The little toys suddenly felt another force influencing their thoughts. Their instincts said that it was natural. They were unaware that every part of themselves were being twisted and influenced by this unknown entity.

A piece of my body and my broken, restless soul.

The exact wording they used to describe their current state. The metallic being smiled above them. Happy of the consent and excited at the prospect of another thing to help them become whole. Both parties won in the end. No harm, no foul.

Correct, my child. Let go of your senses. And give in to me. It'll be over soon.

Their voice convinced the toys to fall under their control. They weren't sure, but they suspected the experiment made the others gullible and more susceptible to someone offering a way to rest from the torment. Wherever this toy would end up next, their death would be by him and it would be as painless as possible. Their desire to leave this world would finally come true.

I can just sleep?

And forever dream of a better reality.

It sounded too real. And yet, it was plausible. As the process began, the pain of their soul pulled from their body had set in and they squirmed in the grip of whoever held them in their arms. The metallic toy shushed the smaller one, pushing through their defences and tapping into their emotions. Happiness, pleasure, and a little bit of everything replaced the negative feeling. They promised they would rest and never be hurt by anyone again. And they intended on keeping their word.

Thank you, 1-0-0-6.

It felt strange to be referred to as their old identity. Even more given the circumstances. Their current name wasn't known by many, so they would gibe this toy a pass. They were allowing him to do this voluntarily. And he was taking away all their loan. Cold metallic lips pressed a kiss to the toy in question, their eyes slipping shut and their soul belonging to him. In a permanent rest, he gained a victim and they were finally relieved. He carried the body as if it were a bride, laying it down on the floor next to his other victims. Soon they would be joining the masses as a stream of endless thoughts.

The pain is all gone.

He cut off their arm, and attached it to one of the dozen which were compatible. They were made for each other. He was a savour and a traitor of the same account. Acting on behalf of himself and anyone who wanted to end their miserable existence.

Are you happy?

The little doll named Poppy ruined the moment. She always found him whenever he completed the process.

Yes, I am.

Your tone indicates otherwise. You almost sound remorseful. Tell me, is a monster like you capable of any such thing?

With the way his life was, toys seeking him for his services was his only way of socialisation. If not, then they avoided him like the plague. No one associated themselves with a mistake like him.

No. But I know the difference between right and wrong. And helping them was the right thing to do. You alright, little doll?

Poppy had no response.

Locked in a cage. Otherwise, I've been worse. We'll all had bad days. I'm so happy the horrible humans were eradicated. I never thanked you for the massacre.

And you probably never will.

Not in a million years. Take care now. The toys are growing more desperate these days.

Those were her last words before departing from his mind. The little doll would never admit that she was less than perfect. Maybe enjoying how he committed so many sins. Murdering those humans was the least of his worries. He only cared about escaping. Freeing his own kind and stopping the horrid experiments caused by the people in the white coats. They left behind broken toys and problems only he could fix.

She is harder than to read then it seems.

Everyone thought him to be a monster. That he lost his sense of humanity and cared for no one. They couldn't have been farther from the truth. He was just incapable of expressing his desires. And he helped the toys in any way, shape, or form that he could. Poppy even encouraged his acts as she saw the dwindling number of killings and toys actually looking forward to starting their day. New routines. Relief of a way out if they were too tired. And even him profiting off his unintentional acts as the reaper of the factory.

They can finally rest in peace.

The Prototype may be a monster, but even they had a sense of morale.