Chapter Text
10:30 P.M. June 18th, 1992
The alarm sounded across the halls, running footsteps were ahead. Employees scrambled themselves into the transport vans- shouting over as they began to speed up. They had a plan for the fleeing subject but it would be falling apart at this hour. What happened was that Experiment 1170 was fleeing a half mile away from the facility. They were holding tranquilizer dart guns just so they could capture him.
Meanwhile in the office, the observer sat motionless- his deadpan eyes looking at the dances of multiple screens. Leith Pierre was only folding his arms as he saw the observer beside him.
“Were they on their way now?”
A long sigh is heard. “Yes, they are searching” the observer said, soon leaving down the pinboard as his watchful face turns to Leith Pierre.
“This is entirely unacceptable!” he snapped. “We can’t afford another disaster at this time. This… this is entirely preventable! How did we let it get this far? How are we going to hide it?”
Sawyer barely acknowledged him, scribbling notes on the clipboard. His focus remained on Experiment 1170, dart guns flashing across the dark when he ran far within a mile, employees moving too quickly like they were going to die soon, they were moving way too chaotically. He could feel Pierre’s agitation radiating from behind him, but he didn’t flinch. His eyes kept staring at the screen like he found something very interesting, and this was all he needed.
--
11:00 A.M. June 14th, 1992
The automatic doors of the research division gave a soft hiss as they parted, letting her into a stark, humming corridor that reeked faintly of static and bleach. She adjusted the stiff collar of the white lab coat over her issued navy blue jumpsuit. The Playtime Co. logo was freshly printed— new. Too new. Like her.
Gloria was twenty-three and technically overqualified for this level of clearance— at least, that’s what her previous manager had said when she’d left her Quality Control job for this. "Hospitality to dolls?" he’d joked. But Playtime Co. wasn’t just about toys anymore, and the hush-hush opportunity to work in Research and Development had tugged at something deep in her.
Curiosity. Possibility. The kind that others don’t look in the mouth nor the eyes.
She rounded a corner and spotted him.
Dr. Harley Sawyer.
He’s… not quite how she imagined. He wasn’t the tight-collared mad scientist anyone can see on a cereal box, nor in the movies. No, he looked younger than the stories implied, yet he is of middle age.. His presence made the air feel heavier. A shock of black hair, long and brushed back, streaked with a few lines of white like surgical scars. He sure almost looked like Charles Shaughnessy in one of the soap operas, but he wore no tie, no white labcoat, none of that nonsense. His dark trenchcoat was clean, hands smeared with marker stains. Him? As a neurosurgeon? It seems very smart if that is to prevent bloodstains.
He turned when she approached. “You’re the new co-researcher?”
She gave a quick nod, adjusting her ID badge. “Gloria Parrel. First day”
He didn’t shake her hand. Just studied her— just long enough for her to start overthinking her posture. Then, finally, he gestured down the hallway without a word.
“Follow”
---
She walked like she always had- grounded, calm yet she was curious as she is already new. Gloria had learned early how to manage difficult guests, entitled diners, and corporate reps with the same smile. But this was different. This wasn’t customer service, nor kitchen work. This was something colder, clinical, and smarter.
Inside the lab, fluorescent lights flickered, and Gloria caught sight of an experiment partially dismantled on the table— wires, bloodstains, fur.
“Your record says you were in Quality Control. Hospitality before that”
“Yeah..?”
“Then why Research and Development?” He asked, his eyes loomed like he was staring at her soul.
She hesitated. “Because... I wanted to understand what makes people trust a toy. What feels safe. And how things that seem safe... might not be. Not only for flaws, but.. I want to test more like how I had often recorded on quality control.. I used to record data on cookies, I think I can look further on something scientifically related to that..”
That made him pause. He tapped a pencil against his lip. “Hm…”
The truth was deeper than that. She’d seen too much. Things that didn’t add up. Recalled units, destroyed samples, visitors who never came back. Gloria didn’t want to smile and nod anymore. She wanted to understand.
“Fine” Dr. Sawyer said. “You’ll start in Observation Room B. Two rules: No questions until I say so. And if you see anything that feels wrong. Don’t report it. Document it. Then show me”
She blinked. “Not report it to-?”
“I said what I said.” He turned, and for a second his eyes lingered on her— searching, maybe. Testing. “Everyone here answers to someone. You answer to me”
That should’ve made her nervous. But it didn’t. Because something about the way he said it; firm, but controlled- it felt more honest than anything she’d heard during the training videos.
She looked around the lab. Clean. Organized. But underneath, chaos barely masked. She was stepping into something larger than her job title.
“I understand”
He smirked faintly. “Doubt it. But you will”
As he handed her a clipboard and turned away, Gloria knew this wasn’t just work. This was transformation. A chrysalis in a white lab coat.
And Dr. Sawyer, aloof, brilliant, unsettling- he was going to be the one to crack her open.
--
11:45 P.M. June 18th, 1992
“Team Four, do you copy?” a voice crackled. Silence. “Team Four, report”
Static filled the line, long enough that Sawyer jotted a small note in the margin: Signal lost. Estimated contact time: 22:54.
Minutes later, another voice broke through the channel, breathless, half a whisper: “Oh God- there’s- there’s blood! Equipment’s torn up-dart rifles… snapped-” The voice dissolved into panicked yelling before the transmission cut.
Sawyer exhaled slowly, pen scratching against paper. First confirmed casualties. Five deceased. Six missing. Pattern suggests ambush tactics rather than blind aggression.
Behind him, Leith Pierre slammed a fist against the desk. “Unbelievable. They’re being slaughtered out there, like little sheep” His voice cracked, high with rage and something else— fear.
Sawyer glanced at him, expression unreadable, then returned to his notes. “Not slaughtered” he corrected flatly. “Aggressively selected. He’s adapting his approach”
“We’re going to lose the rest of them if they keep wandering blindly!”
--
11:07 A.M. June 14th, 1992
She enters Observation Room B, holding upon a pencil on the clipboard. The first one ahead in the room was a laid down damaged Bron that was known as Experiment 1199. Gloria looked into the guy who was sitting there as she looked. He didn’t seem to move at all yet, which.. At first, she hesitated.
“Well..?” She heard a voice near her which she jumped, not noticing the doctor was on watch.
“He- this one hasn’t moved yet-”
“Then keep looking, unless you’d want to come back to the bakery?”
Gloria went silent as she kept staring, only to notice that Bron's eyes looked at her. She then started writing, recording the response of 1199’s movements. She even added the records where the Bron experiment also moved a bit. With that, she hears him walk away.
“Good. Meet me in the office once you are done with the papers I sent you for today” Sawyer said, his eyes were watchful, but ever so slightly he turned away as he left the room.
---
Weekly Checkup | Week ending: 06/20/1992 | Subject: 1199
Original procedure date: 06/14
Reason(s) for observation:
Sent to see behavior
Sent to watch any reaction of presence, or action
Observations:
1199 had its eyes move after I was speaking with Doctor Sawyer, then he moved its head as he noticed my presence. Despite it all, the experiment is silent, watching but he isn't really moving very much after it slightly moved an inch.
When I spoke to him a bit, he often responded with a movement, and a small sound.. As if it knew what I was saying. Yet no words were said at all.
_________
Conclusion:
At this moment, this experiment seemed to be nonverbal and non-linguistic though it had small movements, had little sound, looked damaged and fractured.
[x]Waitlist for corrective procedure(s)
[] No change
[]Transfer out
----
To be filled by department head
Transfer Destination:
Department:
---
Weekly Checkup | Week ending: 06/20/1992 | Subject: 1201
Original procedure date: 06/14
Reason(s) for observation:
Sent to see behavior
Sent to watch any reaction of presence, or action
Observations:
Subject 1201, or in that matter the Candy cat subject turned to my presence with a hop. This subject didn’t look at anybody else other than me. Then it spat out small chalky pellets. Along with it, it spasmed every piece like it was forcing the candy out of the mouth.
_________
Conclusion:
Experiment 1201 shows functionality within reward-based design. Subject produces consumable material (which is Candy) on command and remains persistent within the enclosure. Mobility limited but responsive to external presence... Recommend further trials to assess long-term stability of dispensing mechanism and ingestion safety of produced material.
[x]Waitlist for corrective procedure(s)
[] No change
[]Transfer out
----
To be filled by department head
Transfer Destination:
Department:
-----
Weekly Checkup | Week ending: 06/20/1992 | Subject: 1197
Original procedure date: 06/14
Reason(s) for observation:
Sent to see behavior
Sent to watch any reaction of presence, or action
Observations:
Subject 1197, the Beecat is sitting on the other side in the grass. I don’t think this one noticed my presence yet. The wings soon moved, making it fly but it was often against the window on repeat. It had stopped for a moment to breathe before it flew again, but the buzzing was louder, it flew again to the exit trying to leave but it gets hit by the door every time.
_________
Conclusion:
Experiment 1197 shows partial functionality. Subject Beecat is capable of task-oriented movement and simulated interaction with the environment. Winged mobility and pollination simulation are operation but inconsistent. Recommend continued observation and adjustment of an bigger area (enclosure?) to optimize task performance. Subject seems harmless for now- but this one has repetitive behavior here.. Throwing himself against the glass like he wants to leave? This suggests confinement inducing stress.
[x]Waitlist for corrective procedure(s)
[] No change
[]Transfer out
----
To be filled by department head
Transfer Destination:
Department:
