Plan B

Chapter 4 | Stinted Freedom

No. No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't possibly be happening. He'd been so sure it was over. For over a month, everything had been so quiet, and... almost peaceful. Whatever peaceful even was in the Funny House. It had really seemed like the days of the show were behind them, like they could push the memories of it into the backs of their minds and never speak of it again.

But... Did he really even believe any of that himself?

Well, truth be told, he didn't know. But something that had been in the back of his mind for so long was pushing itself into the forefront: the nagging doubt that this was just what he told himself. Because now, Colin was sure that he had just been lying to himself.

No, it wouldn't be okay. Nothing would be okay. He'd tried so hard to convince himself that it would be, to spread that belief among everyone else. He'd tried too hard. And look where it had gotten him. A spot in the creator's corridor, right back where he had been on the very first night of his existence.

He didn't like to think about that. About the intent he was originally created with. He was supposed to be a torture machine. Supposed to be. He knew that perfectly well. But it hadn't turned out that way. Not for any of the Teachers. He remembered as vividly as if it were yesterday being told his purpose, and the consequences of disobedience, and the fear, the pressure.

He hadn't wanted anything to do with these three poor puppets. He hadn't even known who they were at the time, so how would he know if they'd done anything wrong? Even if they had (which they hadn't, of course), he knew he still wouldn't have been able to do what was commanded of him. He had a feeling Roy had deliberately left the Teachers to develop their own personalities and opinions on the matter, simply so he could watch them suffer through it, too. Just so he could squeeze one drop more of sick satisfaction out of this horror he'd conjured.

Since his departure from this vile place, Colin had sworn to himself never to think of it again, let alone speak of it. He'd wanted so badly to forget it ever existed, to lean into the belief that he was as ordinary as any other puppet in the world. To forget why he was truly here. He'd hoped that, with enough pretending, he could fool his mind into believing it was true.

Of course, that was all futile.

And the bands around his ankles, the chains leading to the metal blocks, the huge machine that covered the entire back wall, the admittedly very unnerving computer parts scattered around in corners. It was all enough to remind him just how real all of this was. Thanks to the horrible, scratchy rope, his wrists felt rubbed raw, and every now and again, a mild shooting pain would strike up his arms.

He knew that every Teacher was in a similar situation, shut away in rooms they'd wholeheartedly tried to forget. Stuck. Disheartened. Worried they really were losing after all. Because what choice did they have anymore? All Colin had really been able to do since he'd first woken up here... was mope.

What other option did he have anyway? It didn't look like an escape plan was an option. He'd tried at every given opportunity, but there had been barely any. Besides, he'd found many more flaws and hazards in these than genuinely good ideas. His mind had raced at the speed of light when Roy came in to undo his ankle cuffs, processing all the possible pros and cons of bolting right then and there; of course, the cons by far outweighed the pros, and he'd concluded that he'd only get himself in deeper trouble if he dared try it. He couldn't even figure out what was going on when the ropes were tied around his wrists, painfully and carelessly.

He'd helplessly followed Roy outside the room like a sheep behind a shepherd, wishing with all his heart that he could get away. But he remembered that all the escape routes were blocked. The doors were all locked, and there was no other way out. Well, all the doors were locked, except for...