Fandom: Poppy Playtime (Chapter 4)
They found you in Safe Haven.
You were curled beneath an overturned gurney in the medical wing, clutching your arm to your chest, breath coming in broken, animal little sounds. The lights above flickered in irregular pulses, and every flicker made your body jerk like you were about to be struck.
You didn’t even look up when the screen across the hall lit. A single, unblinking eye stared down at you from a monitor mounted into the wall.
“Ah,” a voice purred through the speakers. “There you are.”
Your fingers dug into your sleeve. You didn’t scream. You didn’t run. You barely had the strength to shake.
“Poor thing,” Harley Sawyer murmured. “Hiding with broken bones and shattered nerves… it’s almost poetic.”
The gurney rattled as something mechanical shifted nearby. You pressed farther into the shadow, whispering to yourself. “Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look—”
“Oh, don’t be rude,” he said lightly. “I can already see you.”
The screen brightened. His pupil dilated.
“You’re hurt,” he observed. “Leg. Shoulder. Malnourished. Dehydrated. You’ve been here too long.”
Your lips parted. No sound came out.
“Funny,” he continued. “They run. They fight. They pretend they’re heroes.”
You flinched as a robotic limb unfolded from the ceiling and lowered a small medical kit beside you. Slow. Careful. Deliberate.
“You’re not like the others.”
Your voice cracked. “…don’t…want…tests…”
He laughed softly. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m not here to test you.”
A lie wrapped in silk. “I’m here to help.”
The player never knew where you went.
One moment you were another survivor barricaded in Safe Haven. The next, you were gone.
Harley made sure of that.
He kept you in a side ward near his core systems, close enough that he could see you constantly. Cameras followed every movement. Doors sealed behind you with whisper-soft clicks.
He brought food. Water. Bandages.
“You know,” he said one evening as you sat on the floor with a blanket over your shoulders, “they don’t understand what this place really is.”
You didn’t answer. You were too tired.
“They break things. Kill things. All in the name of ‘escaping.’”
“And what happens when Safe Haven collapses because of them?”
“They won’t protect you,” he continued. “They don’t even see you.”
That wasn’t entirely true. You’d seen the player once, passing through the corridor. They’d looked at you. Hesitated.
Then the alarms started. And they ran.
Harley noticed your silence. “See?” He had machines gently adjust your splint. Patch your wounds. “You survive because you listen.”
When the others tried to reach you, Harley made sure you heard about it first.
“They’re coming through the ventilation system,” he told you calmly. “Dragging monsters behind them.”
“They don’t care if they draw them to you.”
You shook your head weakly. “They…don’t know I’m here…”
“Oh, but they do,” he replied. “They just don’t care.”
A screen switched on, showing the player sprinting through Safe Haven, alarms blaring, creatures crawling from walls.
“They break what I built,” Harley whispered. “And you’ll be crushed with it.” He leaned closer on the screen. “But I can move you. Hide you. Keep you safe.”
“Simple,” he said. “You tell me where they go.”
“That’s all,” he promised. “Just… guide them away from you.”
You didn’t betray them at first.
A wrong hallway. A locked door. A warning about a monster that wasn’t there.
Each time, Harley rewarded you with warmth.
“You’re doing so well,” he told you. “I knew you were special.”
You started to believe him.
He spoke to you constantly. Filled the silence. Replaced your thoughts. “People hurt you,” he said once. “Didn’t they?” Your eyes burned. “They used you. Abandoned you.”
You nodded without realizing it.
“I won’t.” And the terrifying thing? He kept that promise. Not out of love. Out of ownership.
The player finally reached your ward. They pounded on the door. “Hey! Are you in there?!”
You sat on the bed, shaking. Harley’s eye appeared on the screen beside you. “If they get in,” he said softly, “they’ll run again.”
Your fingers clenched. “They’ll leave you when it’s dangerous.”
“…they’re trying…” you whispered.
“They’re using you,” he corrected. Silence. “You don’t want to be alone again, do you?”
Your throat closed. “No…”
“Then don’t open the door.” The pounding continued. You stood.
Every step felt like betrayal, but also like survival. You reached the control panel. The player shouted your name. You hesitated.
“You chose me.” You pressed the button. The door sealed. The alarms screamed. You slid down the wall, sobbing.
Later, when the facility shook and Safe Haven burned, Harley spoke gently to you. “You did wonderfully.” His machines carried you deeper into the complex, away from the chaos. “You survived,” he said. “Because you listened.”
Your eyes were empty. “…what…happens now…?”
He smiled through static. “Now?” A pause. “Now you belong somewhere safe.” The doors closed. And for the first time since entering the factory… You weren’t running anymore.
