A/N: Went to update this book on all my socials. Noticed I hadn't even posted chapter three on here. So here it is now. Drastically older than the one after it, but ah well; I'll do an editing overhaul once I finish the book.
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"She wasn't always like this, you know."
Waking from a trance, you tore your eyes away from the cutout of Mommy.
"You mean completely unintelligible?"
Unlike the other ones, hers produced no clear audio. Instead it garbled a mechanical distortion with only remnants of what once must have been intonated speech.
The robust halls of the game station marinated in everlasting dusk like a sunken children's Atlantis. You could see windows by the catwalks near the ceiling, but you doubted they opened to the surface that deep underground and the primary-colored playground equipment dulled by desolation created an eerie liminal atmosphere. Toy corpses hung in the dusty spider silk above and you could only imagine how they had earned such a fate.
You pictured the rabbit standing next to you bound lifelessly in the webbing with frightening ease.
"I guess all these years of waiting for the kids to come back made her a bit... impatient."
He stared pensively at the cutout, twiddling his paws. You watched him as if he might go on to explain, temporarily forgetting what you came back for until he shook himself out of it.
"Which is why we should go. Right now. Yeah, let's go!"
He skipped off without further ado, leaving you to reluctantly drag yourself after him.
Your footsteps resounded in the colorful, deceased space. One click after the other for you, while for Bunzo it was the rhytmic thumping of his hops. He managed to get seemingly miles ahead of you without breaking a sweat.
"C'mon, slowpoke! We don't have all day!" he beckoned across the station.
"Yeah yeah, shut up," you grunted in response as you made your way at a steady pace to the control panel and the glossy, hybernating train. "You're not the one with cargo."
You passed the "STATUES" mural, up the stairs, and noted a fuzzy blue and purple creature with huge pupils. Like a lot of the toys it stirred a faint memory in the back of your conscious, not whole enough to recall the rest of its design yet sufficient for a twinge of concern.
"I've been meaning to ask, actually..."
He leisurely leant against the hazard-striped metal.
"What else are you carrying in there?"
It drew your attention to the muffled noises filtering out of your bag as it jostled from the movement. You absent-mindedly palmed the side of it.
"You know, just... personal stuff."
"Uh huh."
Once at the panel, you seized the middle lever whose red light cried out to you with shrill beeps and pulled.
"I see someone's being secretive."
"I see someone forgot that we still aren't friends," you retorted before an ancient tune rumbled from the speakers, directly followed by the chipper voice of Stella.
"Woah! You did fantastic!"
"Ouch! Geez, I'm just sayin'..."
His voice masked the pre-recorded intercom as he hopped down to the foot of the stairs and waited for you to catch up there, arms crossed.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
A Rabbit's Foot For Good Luck
Fanfic(Y/N) (L/N), the descendant of a former worker at Playtime Co, is severely regretting opening their dead grandfather's mailbox and deciding to come look for those trapped souls referred to by a mysterious letter. When they overhear an exchange betwe...
