C.L.

Was this... truly his life now?

He was sitting the middle of a pillow nest, soft blankets that seemed to flow like silk between his fingers, and he wanted to hate it. He truly, deeply wished to hate this life. He was being treated like a prize winning poodle, but then again, the alternative was being quite literally abused so... he wasn't sure which one was worse.

In this place, at least, he could... simply exist. This crazy alien that bought him was so incredibly stupid, or maybe so incredibly blinded by her own love for humans, because he could ask for quite about anything and she would find a way. Seriously, he tried to be annoying at first to see if she would show her true colors but... she was content just doing what he asked. No matter what he did or said, she would think it was cute.

Annoying.

If he scowled or shouted she would look at him like he was a child throwing a tantrum. If he was sad, she would fuss around him trying to make him feel better with gifts or whatever the fuck she thought humans liked. She would only be somewhat calm if he was too, and even then, she would stare at him while he slept like it was fascinating.

Till felt... tiny. This enormous alien would loom over him, casting a shadow that would swallow his whole body, while watching in amaze the way his chest would rise and fall during his sleep.

As his eyelids fluttered open, 99% of the time there would be her.

"Did you sleep well?" she would say. Perhaps she felt sorry for him and everything she was doing was a twisted way of trying to heal his trauma, but he didn't need any pity and he certainly didn't any of the luxury she provided.

He stretched his limbs. The pillows around him felt like he was laying on a literal cloud as he turned away and pretended to continue to sleep.

"Awwww." Till felt his eye twitch at the way she would coo at his 'antics'. "Good morning... are you still sleepy?"

Did she not know how to take no for an answer?

"Yeah, yeah, I'm up..." he gave up. As he turned again on the surface of the pillow nest, he failed to notice her finger landing on his head. Her hand was seriously so big she only needed a finger to pet him. He recoiled. "Stop that."

Till wasn't sure if she couldn't understand him or if she simply didn't care what he had to say, because everytime he would talk it seemed to fall on deaf ears. He felt both embarrassed and flustered at the sheer audacity of this alien.

"Good morning." she repeated. Her eyes focused on him, both pair of eyes, like four glowing white orbs that lacked any iris or pupils. Her face lowered as he began to sit up, and before he could begin to react, he felt a kiss on his whole left side.

"Ew! Stop that!" his face turned bright red as he made an effort to push her off him, but she was simply too big. After the Segyein pulled away, his hair was left sticking in every direction, and he tried scrubbing off whatever kind of Alien saliva she could have left on him.

Yes, he has said this before, but this Alien was huge. Even if she didn't treat him like a piece of trash, Till couldn't help being wary of her; all due to this monumental size difference. He was aware, of course. She could swallow him whole in one bite or squish him between her fingers until he popped if she damn well felt like it. But she didn't. And yet... she could, however, she didn't. Nontheless, she might... you get the point. It was a gamble. Till found himself thinking that if he dared let his guard down this giant creature would stab him in the back.

"You look adorable when you first wake up." his whole face flushed once again. This alien has no filter... "What do you want to do today? Do you feel like... going to the garden?"

His face twisted in mild disgust. The garden wasn't bad in theory, as it was the ONLY place she would leave him alone in. It was nothing like the Anakt Garden; it had natural Alien flora and lots of space to roam around, it quite literally felt more like a whole forest. But it was also where all the other humans she owned would be.... it's not like he hated them, but they were all so... settled. Till had tried talking to them before but they just rambled on about amazing their guardian is and how lucky they are to have her since she spoils everyone so much.

Through this humans he also discovered something he rathered not have...

He was the favorite.

By talking to them he discovered his room was bigger, and also, she didn't actually spend this much time with any of them! She wouldn't watch everyone sleep and give them a good morning first thing when they opened their eyes. He was getting special treatment. Then the jelousy began. He didn't even know why they were jelous??? It was so incredibly ridiculous to him. To be jelous because the Segyein is paying more attention to him. Why did she even find so amusing about him...?

"Eh, no thanks." he was getting ready to settle in the pillows and take a nap when she spoke next.

"Do you want to draw?" She had noticed. She had actually noticed what he liked and she was... acting acordingly?? "I got you some art supplies. Everything you could ever need."

He watched in awe as she settled down a pile of sketchbooks, pencils and other material he could use to make art. And it was all... for him. Because she had noticed he liked it.

"...Thanks." He muttered, already begening to find a blank page to start drawing.

And he did that for hours. Even if she was still watching him, he got lost in his creative flow. He drew and drew like there was no tomorrow. Then... he strated growing tired. The combination of the soft pillows, the warm glow of the lights and the protective presence of the Segyein watching over made him dizzy with sleepiness. Protective... he felt weird thinking about it like that. She was protecting him. In all this time she didn't just... own Till, she acted a shield for him. She was crazy and stupid, she cared too much about a human pet, but she was... there.

It didn't take much time for Till to start drifting off on the spot, pencil slipping from his hand as he lazily loosened the grip.

"So cute..." she lowered her hand to pet him once more, but this time, something different happened. There was no hostile retort and no attempt to push her away. Instead, he nuzzled. She felt his tiny hands gripping the tip of her finger in a clumsy attempt of a hug. She knew, deep down, that Till didn't hate her. She spent months trying to build up his trust, and finally, it was paying off. He nuzzled against her finger as he fell asleep, and she could only smile sweetly at the sight. "Goodnight, Till. Have sweet dreams."

"Mm..." he let out a last mumble before finally succumbing to the heaviness of her warmth and fell into a peaceful sleep.

Life is a state of constant darkness.

Even inside the artificial bright environment of the Anakt Garden, the sun was fake. A big, fat lie to simulate a sense of freedom that they could in reality never achieve.

Yes... life was indeed only a state of eternal, sickening darkness.

She felt her little head throb, pain cursing through her entire system at the headache that simply refused to get away. She closed her eyes, her body limp against the fake grass. Maybe getting some sleep would help? But then again, the medicine by itself was supposed to make it all better.

No more darkness.

The voice inside her head would echo.

Yet when you close your eyes, it is everything that you see. The dark would consume her soul before she had the chance to get rid of the ache on her head.

She felt dizzy, head spinning and mind cloudy, but she made no effort to get up. Even at such a young age, she had grown accostomed to the fog and the dark that clouded her brain. Perhaps the medicine cursing through her blood was making her too weak to fight, or maybe she had stopped caring to try. If she succumbed to the embrace of death or kept living, darkness would be all that awaited her.

"Luka." the voices of the other children were muffled and unimportant. In fact, they made her headache even worse.

A young Hyuna would then make a decision that would change their combined fate altogether.

She gave Luka a very light nudge in her direction.

The blonde little boy, however, had absolutely no knowledge of how to care for another being, or rather, he didn't care, but the look Hyuna gave him was enough to at least pretend that he tried.

He kneeled on the grass beside her limp body and looked at Hyuna once again. 'This is enough, right?'

But no, she was expecting him to actually touch her or something. He poked at her side with his finger but the girl made no movement. Perhaps she was dead...

"Like this." Hyuna ran forward, kneeling on the other side of the girl slummped on the ground. She then rolled her over, effectively placing her head on Luka's lap. He looked perplexed. "And then you pet her head." she tried to give him a visual of what he was supposed to be doing by petting her own hair and hoped he understood. "There, there..."

He did not.

"There, there?" instead of a soft caress, he provided two pats directly on her face, poking her eyes by mistake, and her eyes fluttered open.

Life is a state of constant darkness.

Yet... at that moment, looking up at the person upon her, she saw the sun.

"She's not dead." his voice almost sounded disappointed.

"That's a good thing, Luka!" Hyuna responded as if she could read his thoughts.

'Luka...'

His name was just as angelic as his face.

She leaned forward, nuzzling against his lap with her cheeks tinted pink, and Luka almost recoiled. It was... weird.

The roar of the audience was now muffled, distanced from Luka's current location. The show was about to begin and he was more than ready. His skin flawless, his outfit polished and his hair falling like a golden cascade.

Then the door swinged open. He didn't even have to look to know it was his next opponent on stage.

"You should focus on getting yourself ready." he turned towards her. There was a certain mischevious glint in her eye, as if she had already expected that comment.

"Believe me, I am prepared... besides, I wanted to see you before we go on stage." she hopped closer like an enthusiastic child, the puffy dress they had put her on bouncing at the motion. The woman before him standed on her tiptoes to reach him, a fresh blush spreading all over her face as she rested her palm against his cheek. "My sunlight..."

The term of endearment almost made his skin crawl.

"I have told you not to call me that." his purple tinted fingers curled against her wrist, but his grip was as soft as a cloud. He made no real effort to correct her or make her drop the nicknames. "My moonlight."

He brought her hand closer to his lips and nipped at the tip of her thumb. She whimpered.

"So you remember...?" he said nothing. "What my name means. It means beautiful moon."

"Would you care to share how this relates to the conversation we are having?"

"I had only known darkness until I met you. My sunlight... compared to you, I am nothing, for the moon cannot shine without her sun's light."

She closed the distance between them in a blink, pressing her lips against his with no shame. Although he tried to pull back and recoil at first, she did hold his face in place for a few seconds longer.

When he did manage to push her away a little bit, she lounge forward once again in desesperate strength to bite his shoulder. Only when it left a small, noticable mark did she finally step back.

"...Are you satisfied?"

"Very." she could almost still taste his skin against her lips, and the thought made her shiver and flush with raw emotion. The look she gave him from below was one of pure, unfiltered desire.

"Maybe you should put this much effort into your performance... my moonlight." he grabbed her chin, forcing her face to look up at him again, and gave her a proper kiss. One where he was the one in control of the situation, as it should have been from the start. She melted at the sensation, letting out a desperate sound from the back of her throat as Luka wrapped his fingers around her neck, pressing at the spot where the sound came from and effectively making her gag into his mouth at the lack of oxygen. Despite this pain, her eyes rolled back and clung to his neck in seek of more of that contact.

The kiss ended when he demanded it so and left her breathless. Her whole face was red with the sheer effort of retaking her breath and perhaps a little bit of excitement.

"As if I could win against you... I already know I'm going to die, Luka."

"Was this supposed to be a goodbye then?" she could be so extra sometimes. "Don't dare hand me the win on silver platter. If you pretend to give up like that, it's insulting... at least put up a little bit of a fight."

"I cannot imagine a world in which you cease to exist, my sunlight... I cannot bring myself to go against you.

"If I am truly your sunlight," he whispered, leaning down at her face level. "the I shall eclipse with you in one last song before the moon sets for good."

The music begins.

The atmosphere is suffocating, and yet, he is the image of perfection came alive.

He can feel her presence beside him, but dares not to look her way. As he begins to sing, his voice is as melodic as ever, performing with his usual flawlessness. Every note is calculated and excecuted on point, the roar of the alien figures in the audience merely a background noise, and his movements are those of a being designed to be... perfect.

He is the sun.

He performs the role which he was born for. He is radiant, dominant and utterly blinding with beauty.

Then the duet shifts, and her voice cuts through the silence.

Her voice isn't fighting with his, it weaves around it. The oxygen in the air seems to be replaced with the scent of moonlight jasmine as the notes flood his ears. The song is an obsessive, haunting melody, the chant of a soul that has stopped looking up at the heavens and instead searches salvation from the man standing beside her.

He can feel her devotion in every syllable, a velvet darkness that pulls him down from his pedestal and into the depths of her grace.

His own voice drops an octave, joining in the choir of their souls. Luka's responding melody collides with her devoted chant, creating a symphony of pure madness. His purple fingertips attempt to reach, as if he could force the words she was breathing into existence and hold them in his embrace.

As the music begins to die, Luka can feel his chest tighten, but he doesn't care. He's breathless in the most beautiful way possible; he can feel himself high on pure adrenaline.

Then the numbers begin to climb.

As expected, Luka remains undefeated by a sheer difference of eleven points.

But her smile doesn't flatter, it widens.

'Why is this idiot smiling at me like that...?'

A gun is pointed to her head, yet she doesn't flinch.

She bows.

She gives one graceful, final bow, looking directly into his eyes as her body leans towards the weapon at the motion, the barrel of it pointing straight at her forehead.

The sound of the shot is quick and piercing, and her body falls to the ground with an inmediate thump. He watches the red bloom spread through the floor. Of course, he can only do that. Stare.

I figured lately that I'm unlovable. Not even trying to be pessimistic nor I'm looking for people to give me compliments either; it feels like only a fact. I am unlovable. For many years I have been trying hard to convince myself this isn't true. I was abused at home and bullied at school since early childhood so I never had a good example of how healthy love looks like. I've never had a romantic partner but I've been involved in other forms of toxic relationships such as "friendships" that I was trapped in for many years, one particulary that stuck with me the most since it was the first one that started it all.

When I was small and staring elementary school I had this sort of obsession with my classmate who was also my bully. I guess I still kinda do. At the time I used to think she was so perfect, so everything I wanted to be surrounded with, and I tried my best to change everything of myself that displeased her (which was pretty much everything, she hated me BAD). To this day parents, therapists and other people who know us cannot understand the fixation I had with this girl. Truly, she treated me horribly, but I held on to whatever little attention she gave me anyway. I feel like such a disgusting masochist when I think about it, because from time to time I will still miss her. I was treated so poorly at home I just thought that's how love worked, and it didn't even matter to me. She was the one who started this idea on my head that I am unlovable because she would repeat this over and over when we were together. I remember vaguely how she used to list out loud all of my "flaws", everything that she considered a reason to not love me, and she made sure it stuck because she would ask of me to understand and accept this, to repeat it back.

I'm not pretty. Not conventionally. It pains me because I can find my own traits beautiful if seen on everyone else. Everyone else except me. Brown skin is beautiful but mine is broken and full of acne scars. My eyes are dark but the bags under them are disgusting. My hair doesn't know if it wants to be curly or straight so it tangles and gets lots of frizz. My left arm is full of marks I can never erase. I know I'm not ugly per se but I can't for the life of me look at myself in the mirror and think I feel pretty. It would feel like a lie.

I'm too loud, but sometimes I'm also too quiet. I can get annoying when I get comfortable because I just start speaking about my geek loser interests. I'm obssesed with bats, I get overwhelmed easily, I cry over everything all of the time. I struggle a lot with my mental health, I can't even get out of bed sometimes.

And obviously that's another issue. I feel like my mental health is a burden to other people. My mother doesn't like me going to therapy because I went since I was four years old and now I should be over all of that. For my loved ones I would never desire to bother them with my stuff. I have a very small close circule of friends who I know would tell me I won't burden them with my worries but I can't help it.

Loving me feels like a job. Like you need to compromise and put in effort. I find it hard to believe there's someone out there for me. People always tell me there's always someone out there that will love me exactly for who I am, but I find that hard to believe. I can't even imagine a person that could genuienly look at me and just know there's no one else they would rather be with. Because I feel like I'm lowest, like I genuienly don't deserve any better.

Lately I can't even stand the fact that I'm even alive. I struggle to get out of bed and eat properly. I've been even neglecting my personal hygine with disgusts me even more. But I'm a coward. I won't take my life. Because I'm a coward and I'm too scared of death to do that. I'm too terrified, that's my problem. I'm always scared.

A month had passed after that.

The little boy, once agressive and unstable, now found peace on his mother's arms. Whatever Harley did to discipline him worked like a charm.

"Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop... when the wind blows, the cradle will rock... if the bough breaks, the cradle will fall... but mama will catch you, cradle and all..." the boy nuzzled on his mother's embarace, letting run her gentle hands through his hair while letting out a murmured whimper.

"That song is for babies, did you know, dear? That's a grown child."

"He's MY baby. MINE."

"I'm not trying to take him away from you..." Harley had noticed this over the past weeks. She had grown extremely attached and defensive of this child. His wife wouldn't let anyone near him (except him, obviously, since he was his father) and would get hysteric if someone tried pulling them apart. He learned to go along with it. But still... it was a bit of a pitiful sight; her whole world revolved around of that excuse of human being.

"Rock a bye baby, do not you fear... never mind baby, mother is near... wee little fingers, eyes are shut tight... now sound asleep, until morning light."

"Marvelous. Song's over. Why don't we let him rest so we can-"

"...mama...."

He froze.

That child was not supposed to speak.

"Oh, honey, did you hear? He said his first word!"

"I heard..." he was sure he wouldn't be able to speak after the surgery. How was he speaking? "He called for you..."

"He must love me so much!" that could be one reason. He knew the kid was straved for love, but... so fast? No, it couldn't possibly be...

"...ma...ma..." the boy's voice was broken and scratchy. It did not sound human, and the look on his eyes was making him uncomfortable. No, he shouldn't... he shouldn't be hungry. He knows better than that. Harley TRAINED the boy. That kid knew not to harm his mother. But then again, the hunger the toys presented for human flesh was so strong... he should have neutralized it.

"Yes, that's me! I'm mama, sweetie... oh, my sweet boy, you recognize me so well..." she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and he held her tighter.

The days continued to pass, but he spent more times keeping an eye on the child. His behaviour, the looks he gave him, the way he clinged to his mother. It began to creep him out, but he knew that trying to talk to his wife about it or even try to convince her to spend a little bit less time with the child would be useless. Any attempt of being rational with that woman was futile at this point, really, since she was si extremely attached.

He figured if the boy began to speak it shouldn't matter that much as long as he didn't start craving human flesh and try to eat his mother. Well... he wasn't so sure that the first thing hadn't happened already, but keeping his wife safe was good enough.

"Say 'ah', honey. Come on, eat your veggies you picky, pretty boy" the baby voice his wife would use to talk to that child was sickening, but he didn't dare complain. The boy, on the other hand, had a very strong opinion about those vegetables and threw them away. "No, no, no, bad! Don't throw it, sweetie... Veggies are yummy! You need them to grow big and strong! Come on now, just one bite... please?"

"I don't think he's going to eat it, dear. Just... let him be."

"You coddle him too much, darling."

"Since when...?" coddling was quite literally the thing he would never do with this experiment. And SHE was even worse than him; now he's suddenly spoiling him because he let him not eat brussel sprouts?

"Come on, baby, look! The broccoli is soooo yummy! You know what? Let mama try some, hm? Wow... see? So, so, yummy! Mmmm! Now you!" the boy pouted and sulked, backing away from the spoonful of broccoli his mother was trying to feed him. "It's no use... I give up."

"I told you."

"I'm just trying to be a nurturing mother! He's my only son. My sweetest little angel made just for me. So I want to make sure he's well fed and grows big and strong!"

"He doesn't need vegetables to grow 'big and strong' because he will never grow up, dear, he's staying a child forever. Now, why don't you come out of his cage and rest or something? You've been in there all day."

"I can't help it! I've wanted to have children for so long... since you made him for me, I don't ever, ever want to leave his side. I will protect him always and give him lots of love and cuddles and kisses because look at him! He's the perfect little boy. Doesn't it just make you wish there could be more of him?"

"No. He's not getting any bothers or sisters, I'll tell you that much."

He watched as she reclutantly made her way out of the cage where their child was held, now decorated with several blankets and toys (courtesy of his wife), and heard as he started whining for her mother to come back. She looked at his husband with pleading eyes.

"Darling..."

"No."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!"

"You were going to ask to sleep in the cage with him, and the answer has been no for the last hundred times and it's still no."

"But my love..."

"No. Come on, I'll get you to bed; you clearly need some sleep."

She looked back as her husband pushed her back towards the door, staring directly into her son's eyes. Those sad, puppy eyes... it just broke her heart to leave her son all alone at night.

She settled in bed with a miserable expression, and Harley just had to roll his eyes at the sight. He wanted to worry, but he figured she'd be fine again in the morning. Harley quietly slipped under the blankets and snaked an arm around her, attempting to ease her mind a little bit.

"He'll be fine, he's a big boy who can handle sleeping alone at night. You already put a night light there, so..."

"You don't get it! He's a little baby and he needs his mama to protect him..."

"He is certainly not and he doesn't."

"You're so cold towards him... it's your son too, darling. And you quite literally made him from our flesh and blood, so I don't understand how you're so nonchalant about all this."

"I know he's my son." to his disgrace. "And because I made him is that I know he's much stronger than you think, so stop worrying already..." he huffed as he slightly nuzzled closer to her, already half-asleep. "Just let him be... you'll see him tomorrow..." a yawn.

"But do you love him?"

"Yes, honey, of course I love our son...." he might have said that to make her shut her mouth and go to sleep.

And that is what he THOUGHT she wanted to do. But his wife was no idiot, she wanted so badly to go see their son again... but she knew he wouldn't let her, so she needed a distraction.

"And I love you for giving him to me." he pressed a soft kiss on his lips. "I feel like I haven't thanked you enough..."

"Whatever keeps you happy... and not disturbing my work."

"I'm serious, honey. Do you... wanna do something tonight?"

"Aside from sleeping?" another yawn, eyes already closed. "I don't think so..."

"Not even... something a little more intimate?" that woke him up fast.

Now Doctor Harley Sawyer wasn't a needy man. He wasn't desperate and he didn't get urges often, if ever, as he was mostly focused on his work and didn't bother himself with carnal desires that much. Yes he had a wife and of course they had their moments, but it wasn't the focus of their relationship by far.

However...

Even since his wife found out about her infertility, she would deny him. Every. Time. For the last couple of years, she just refused to have anything to do with intimacy as it reminded her too much of what she couldn't have (as she stated herself). But now that he gave her a child, she was suddenly willing again and... who is he kidding? Yes, he did kinda want that cookie.

And everything that came after was a blur. He ended up exhausted, as he already was, and fell deeply asleep quickly. That's when she took her opportunity to ESCAPE.

What a terrible mistake that was.

"That woman again, seriously... I feel violated." Harley muttered to himself, walking towards the room where his son's cage was located. "Of course she would do that... taking advantage of me to... go to the cage with that creature. It's like she can't even think of anything else. I swear, I'm so close to just calling this whole thing off and getting rid of that thing..." he got to the entrance of the room, which was carefully designed so that only he could enter. Well, it had several locks and codes but what really bothered him was how his wife could sneak in there so easily. The door slipped open, a quiet sizzle of the autimatic mechanisms, and he stepped inside already feeling a headache coming to him. "Dear... I think we need to talk about your behaviour lately."

And as he expected, she was there hugging the child tightly. Of course it wouldn't let go and saw Harley with desdain, but what worried him was actually the sight of his tired wife who clearly spent the entire night awake singing lullabies and soothing the child's bad dreams. He was a scaredy cat, if you asked him, needing his mommy to feel safe at all times...

"What do you mean?"

"This. Exactly this. You don't even seem to notice, darling, but this... child is taking over your entire life. It's all you think about."

"He's our son! You shouldn't speak so harshly about him... especially not infront of him!"

"Honey, he's a mix of flesh and bone that I sewed together into a rag doll from several corpses which I then filled with plush stuffing, THAT thing is not a human being and he is not your baby, not your biological son and certainly not to be coddled and babied like an infant. Every minute you spend with him he grows more obssesed, more attached, more reactive, agressive, unstable... And honestly? So do you."

"How could you speak like that about our son?!" she exploded, holding the kid tighter on her arms. He squirmed a little at the force as it began to feel suffocating but stayed still for now. "You said last night you love him... and you made him for me, so we could have... our own little family." she teared up, soft sobs escaping her lips as held onto her son. "Are you saying... you lied?"

"No... no, of course not." that WAS the truth. He never meant for it to go this far. He really did just want to give her the family she always wanted, but this behaviour...

"Liar!"

"Mama..." the boy began and cry louder as well, attempting to break free fom his mother's grasp. Normally he loved it but this felt wrong. Different. Scary. This was not the soft, gentle hands he was promised. He wanted the warm, safe feeling from his mommy, not this painful embarace he couldn't escape. So he began to struggle harder, and he grew a little more exhasperated.

"Darling, I believe you are a little emotional, you're squeezing him-"

"You want to take him away from me! Never, ever will I let anyone separate me from my son. If you wanna, you'll have to tear us apart! I will die before I let you!" he began to grow worried now, seeing the child's desperation escalating.

"Dear it's fine. Look. I'm not trying to take him away, I'm standing so far, I swear I won't do anything. Just let go slowly, please, take a deep breath..." he raised his hands in surrender as if that would do anything. She just kept shaking her head.

"Stay away!"

"Honey, deep breaths-"

"No, no, no! Don't come any closer! No one is taking him away from me, you hear me?! NOTHING! NEVER."

Crunch.

That was the sound her bones made when her son chewed them off from her neck where he was once nuzzled. The smell of blood filled the air as Harley stared at the scene.

Silence.

The one thing he had been begging for the whole month now felt asphyxiating.

Her body collapsed.

He got nauseous. His head spiraled, his mind dizzied, his vision blurred and he almost thought he too would collapse.

"...Papa...." the word left the child's bloodied mouth almost too quickly. Extending his arms at him like a lost sheep asking the Lord for forgiveness. He had realized he killed the only person who loved him and seeked comfort on the only other parental figure he had.

"... Don't you dare 'papa' me, you little... fuck." he wanted to come closer and check on his wife's body himself, as if there was something he could do about it still. It was limp and pale and very clearly dead. "I should end your life for this. I should actually just straight up kill you for doing this. You killed... her."

"Mama...?" the boy gently nudged at his mother's dead body, as if she would magically wake up. "Papa..."

"Oh, you're asking me to fix it now?" he scoffed. "You kill her, then you cry because she isn't here... how utterly pathetic. I can't let you... I can't let it end like this. My wife is not going to die at the hands of a monster I created."

"Papa... papa!"

"What...?"

"I figured something out. You know, I considered all the options and thought... why not simply make you a child?"

"Wait... honey, I don't understand... how did you... is this...?" he carefully placed his hands above hers, giving her a small smile.

"It's a project I've been working on for the last few months. I'm sorry I had to take your hairbrush for this, but I needed a sample of your DNA so I could proceed."

"My DNA?" that made her perk up. Could it be...?

"Yes." Harley squeezed her hands, bracing himself for his next words. "I made you a son. Someone who is a little bit of you and me, just like you wanted. Ours. His DNA is a perfect match for the two of us, so much that if for some reason he was to be found dead, they could trace his own DNA back to us as his parents."

"You really did that...? Just for me? Because I said I wanted a kid that was a little bit of you and me?"

"Just for you." he confirmed. He had to admit he was proud of his own work; the child was a masterpiece. "Now, I do have to warn you... he's not the prettiest boy in the world. He's still a work in progress, technically. I had to use some... spare parts to make him and carefully select his DNA so it could match ours. I just can't wait for you to meet him." so she can stop whining. "So let's go see him. I'll introduce you to our son. Just behind this door."

Now he wouldn't mention it, but his wife wasn't exactly unaware of what he did to the children down at the lab. It's not she knew and approved, but she wasn't oblivious to it either. Ever since she started descending to madness, his wife would simply tune out whatever was happening around her. The conversations with his co-workers about the experiments happening right infront of her, the documents scattered at plain sight on their home, the sounds coming out of the labs whenever she roamed around there... she would zone out and pretend it didn't happen. She was so fixated on her own obsession with having children that she simply stopped caring about everything else. If he was experimenting on random orphans that was cool or whatever but she had her own issues to worry about like demanding him for a child, which he finally was going to give her.

Harley gently guided her through another door where she pressumed their son was waiting, and the whole time she was wondering what he would look like. Her husband mentioned using 'spare parts' (whatever that meant), but she shouldn't worry too much about that, right? Oh, how she yearned to hold her child... would he resemble them somehow? Harley did say he wasn't the prettiest boy but surely he couldn't be that bad, and besides, a mother is supposed to love her offspring no matter how they look like! She almost could not believe she was able to say that now. She's a mother.

The lights on the room where slightly dim, and everything around smelled sterile, like a hospital room, but her eyes could only focus on the figure sitting on the corner of the room. A little boy, no older than seven, dressed in ragged clothes and strapped with restraints so he wouldn't escape. His was pale, almost blue, his hair was dry and messy, and his flesh was half-rotted away. Several of his body parts seemed surgically glued together, as his joints where parted with fine stitches that made him look like he could break apart any second. His hands were trembling, dirty fingernails prickling his own skin in a poor attempt to soothe himself. It didn't help much. His lips were dry, and his breathing unsteady, like he was chocking on air, and his eyebag-filled eyes were hollow, yet desperate; almost silently begging for mercy. His whole structure made him like he didn't feel in his own body and struggled to accept his reality. His limbs, oppossed to the normal child bones, seemed close to what one would describe as fluffy, as if his insides were filled with plush stuffing as a replacement for his organs. He whimpered, a soft broken voice that scratched his throat painfully, but no tears came out of his eyes.

"Oh, he's... beautiful." she muttered, almost tearing up at the sight of the boy. "He's perfect, honey."

"Isn't he?" he claimed proudly. "I always create perfection, after all. And he will never age, I made sure of it, so you can have your perfect little boy forever and always."

"Really?"

"Really." he almost let out a chuckle at his wife's hopeful expression. "You can dote on his all you want."

"I... I need to go hold him." he quickly stopped her movements with a hand on her chest, making her keep her distance.

"I'm afraid I can't let that happen just yet. He's still a work in progress, remember? I need to run more tests so I can make sure he's absolutely perfect for you, and only then may you hold him."

"You... you can't just show me our child and then say I can't hold him!" as expected, she complained, but he was prepared for this outcome.

"My dear, I fear he's still... adjusting, do you understand me? He's a tad reactive." agressive. "I can't risk him hurting you by mistake; I just wouldn't be able to forgive myself. Give a week or two."

"That's too long."

"I know it feels like it, darling, but it's necessary for his optimal development that I run a few more tests before I can let him near you."

"I said I WANT to HOLD him NOW!" the child on the corner flinched, nuzzling himself further into his corner, and she quickly regained her composture as soon as she noticed she had scared him. "Oh, I- No, no, no, no, no, sweetie, it's okay! Mommy and daddy aren't having a fight, it's just a small disagreement! I- I'm not a violent mother, you don't have to be afraid of me my sweet boy..."

"And that is exactly why I cannot let you near him just yet."

"But..."

"Alright, how about this?" he attempted a different approach. "You know... he still doesn't have a bed, or proper clothes... and he will surely need to decorate his new room when he finally adjusts." and that seemed to click something in her.

"Baby shopping! I should go buy him stuff!"

"Yes you should, darling. Such a marvelous idea. In fact, why don't you take my card and go crazy with it? Just buy everything you want for our son, and take as long as you need." he began softly nudging her towards the door as he spoke, achieving to kick her out in a subtle manner. Good thing her mind was a mess. "I'll take care of our dear son in your absence."

He closed the door after she left and sighed in relief, and the smile on his face disappeared almost inmediately. He turned to look at his 'son', who was still recoiling in horror.

The workers at Playtime.Co would always wonder why a man like Harvey Sawyer would work at a toy factory when he didn't particularly like children. Sure he was a scientist, and sure he was experimenting on said children, but still, that's not how it all started. The answer was very simple, actually.

Doctor Harley Sawyer was a married man. And his wife was a... complicated individual.

After two years of their marrige, she brought up her desire to become a mother for the first time, and while Harley himself wasn't thrilled by the idea... he found that he didn't really care that much about it. A child would be a bit annoying, yes, but he figured his wife would want to do most of the parenting and spent her time doting over the kid. Enough time for him to be there... barely. Or that was the plan, at least, until the bad news came.

No matter how hard they tried, they would never be able to have children, because his wife was infertile.

When he was offered the job at Playtime.Co, he thought it might be good for her to be around the children at the orphanage... somehow, right? Like she wants children, so she can have children... that aren't hers and who she won't adopt. Surely.

WRONG.

She became a whole new person after this, no longer the sweet woman he once fell in love with. Days turned into weeks, months, and years he spent working at that toy factory, and each minute she seemed to get more and more insane, if that was even possible. She started getting mad at him for her inability to have children, demanding constantly that he gave her one. She throwed tantrums ocasionally, much like the children would, when she obviously didn't get what she wanted. She became aggresive. Temperamental. Sensitive, if you will.

"Dear... we talked about this." he ran his hands through his face, a futile attempt to hide his exhaustation.

"I said I want a child!" yet again, she demanded. "I want one, I want one, I want one!"

"As I've already told you a million times, you're at an orphanage. You want a child? We can adopt. I don't really care, just... whatever keeps you from interrumpting my work and making come down here because you're disturbing the other employees..." he tried to be discreet about his last comments, but he secretly wished she heard.

"And I already told YOU it's not the same! I want US to have a child together! I want a CHILD that's a little bit of me and you! Not any kid. OUR KID. MY KID."

"You're shouting, dear."

"I DON'T CARE! I want to have children!" she wailed... again, dropping to the ground and sobbing like a kid who's candy just got stolen. This was becoming exhasperating.

"Listed... I understand this is your way of dealing with your emotions, however you... need to understand it's simply not possible. You're infertile, dear. I'm aware it hurts to hear, yet I'm afraid it's the truth. And believe me, I would give you a child if it was in my power, but... I fear I can't defy the laws of biology like that. It's in your genetic code, which I can't modify."

"Just say you don't love me."

"I didn't say that either..." he listened to her cry once more, and he genuienly did not know what else to do.

Eventually he had to ban her from seeing the orphans altogether because that would only worsen her hysteric mind. And maybe he was told that she was starting to scare the kids.

So guess what she did?

She threw another tantrum.

She complained that now she wasn't even allowed to see children, accused him of wanting to cause her suffering and even threatened to take... drastic measures if she wasn't permited to go to the orphanage soon. Of course, that's his wife, he knew she was bluffing... and she was, she didn't do anything other than cry and cry for days. But it became a problem so big he HAD to do something about it.

His wife wanted a child? Fine. He would give her a child, one way or another.

"Dear? Care to accompany me somewhere?"

"No!" he sighed. This again.

"My dear... I have something to show you. I have a feeling you'll be pleased." that at least made her look up from the pillow on her face. Yeah, he still had it, the old charm would always work on her. "Come on now, I have to get back to work soon so you better hurry."

He started walking away before she had a chance to react, and she followed quickly to not lose sight of him as they navigated through the hallways on those labs. It can be very easy to get lost there, after all.

The whole time she was restless, while he was as calm and collected as always. Of course, he didn't care as much as she did to have children, and thinking about that made her a little annoyed. Like he was supposed to be her HUSBAND. Could he care about her any less?

They eventually stepped inside his office, where Harley started rummaging the cabinets on his desk until he came across one thing in particular that he seemed to be looking for.

"I'm well aware that you've been... sensitive since you can't visit the orphanage, and believe me, it do pains me to see you suffering so badly. So... I found a solution to all of our problems." without another word, he handed her the folder on his hands to hers and waited for her reaction.

"What's this...?" he refused to explain, giving her a slight smirk that one could only describe as arrogant. Like he was proud of whatever he had done.

A whole lot of paper. The folder was HEAVY. But on top of all those documents, the title of the research caught her eye.

It was the word 'Experiment' with a number attached after, and she looked at him almost in a state of shock.