Via

Experiment 1006, The Prototype. Isn't he wonderful? He's our savior, our angel of salvation. We would all still suffer if it wasn't for him. He saved us from the bad people upstairs, they won't hurt us any longer! We just have to listen to him now and everything will be fine.

...

That's what they all said anyway. They genuinely seemed to believe that by showing their devotion, loyalty and gratitude they would win The Prototype's affection. Perhaps they were following Catnap's example... or simply mimicked his worship of The Prototype out of fear. Maybe they were hoping for some extra leftovers that would satisfy their hunger for a bit longer. Whatever the case was, you didn't want to hear any praises.

The Prototype's revenge was brutal. But his affection? That was so, so much worse. You experienced that firsthand; once, during the Hour of Joy, when he appeared out of nowhere in all his spider might, snatched you in his clawed hands and dragged you all the way down to the factory's hidden hell. The second time was a bit later, when he stripped you of your body autonomy, forcing you into a completely new vessel - one he designed himself.

It was a chaotic mess of various toy body parts. Specifically chosen to mess with all your senses, to not let you run too far away. You didn't want to look into a mirror, you couldn't. The Prototype took away your freedom twice already and you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you mourn your humanity.

That's the best you could do. You had no real chance of escaping him and any attempt at fighting would only end up with you making your already bad situation worse. So you stayed quiet, doing your best not to provoke him while cursing him out in your mind in all languages you knew.

The worst part of it all was that he just never left you alone. Not for long, anyway. He kept you in a dark cell far away from others, in a corridor that only he seemed to know of. He never really called it a cell, but you knew he wasn't suddenly acting generous. The Prototype had a plan in that twisted mind of his and was determined to go through with it. The first part involved capturing you and turning you into a toy. The second part was all about making sure you would never leave him.

You were clearly in the second part right now.

The Prototype brought you things sometimes. Mostly food and water to keep you alive, but you despised every crumb and every drop. He gave you a few books he found somewhere in the factory, though you never actually opened one. It was too dark to read in here anyway. For all the things he did "for" you, The Prototype didn't grant you a single source of light.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

"I brought you something!" he stated in a cheerful voice. The Prototype knew he didn't have to announce himself - you heard him coming long before he actually entered the room. He was standing in the middle of it now, holding the retrieved item in his claws. You couldn't see too clearly in this darkness, but you hoped it wasn't another blanket.

You hated it most when he brought you blankets and pillows. He never simply let you have it; instead he insisted on tucking you in himself. You froze everytime his sharp fingers moved too close to you, knowing exactly what they were capable of. He, on the other hand, never seemed to care.

When you didn't acknowledge him in any way, The Prototype stepped closer to the corner where you were cowering. He lowered himself slightly, the movement accompanied by a series of loud pops and creaks coming from his joints. He placed the item in front of you and you were hit with the smell of meat.

"I got the best parts. Just for you." he added, a hint of pride could be heard in his constantly changing voice. His yellow eye was focused on you, piercing right through. You wondered for a second if he could actually see you in this darkness.

Your gaze dropped to the meat. Your eyes were slowly adjusting to the shadows, so you could see it, but very faintly.

Instead of throwing yourself at it like a starved animal, you turned your head away. You didn't want anything from him, especially meat, because you knew perfectly well where it came from. The thought of consuming it made you sick.

The Prototype didn't care one bit about your refusal, however. He hummed a quiet, distorted tune and kept his gaze on you.

"You cannot heal properly with an empty stomach. If you want it to hurt less, you will eat." he stated, his face clicking quietly as it moved. When you still refused to accept the food from him, The Prototype continued:

"You want to walk. To run, to escape the factory and leave this place behind. You cannot pursue that dream without energy. If you consume this piece, I might give you longer legs."

Another twisted promise. How many of them have there been already? I'll bring you more pillows to sleep on. I'll let you keep that trinket you like so much. I'll take you outside. I won't turn you wrongside out. As long as you do what I say.

Oh, you hated him. You hated him so much. How could he hurt you like this, how could he toy with you like this?! And yet...

Your hunger was stronger than your hatred. Stronger than your pain and your opinions. Slowly, you raised yourself from whatever position you were curled up in and you moved closer to the meat.

You tried to ignore the smell of blood. You tried to silence the thoughts questioning how was this meat obtained. You knew how. You almost ended up the same way. You didn't want to think about it, because if you did, you'd throw up.

When you took the first small bite, The Prototype straightened up, clearly satisfied. He reached for you and you froze, expecting those sharp claws to dig into your artificial skin.

Instead, he just gave you a light headpat.