Poppy Playtime: Oneshots/Short-stories

Get Out Alive.

Disclaimer: I don't own Poppy Playtime (Video Game). I don't own the picture (cover). Or the song if I put one in.

(qwertuno and SilentReadersMatter)

(This was made before the Project: Playtime cinematic trailer and Gameplay trailer dropped.)

(Hope you enjoy.)

"Creator, Creator, where are you?~"

He dove under the desk as they cornered him in the room. Underneath the desk barely fitting his stature, Rowan shivered with fear as his breaths came out more sharpened. Breathing in and out in an attempt to calm his nerves, he then froze up as the sounds of hands slamming on the floors omitted in the area.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are."

They never had legs attached to their bottom torso. They needed to rely on the strength of the upper body to support themselves. They had been the one that this damn had sent to execute him. Rowan quickly hid himself deeper into the desk, praying that Boxy wouldn't be able to pick up on his went. He nearly yelped when the whole shook, the boxed toy's giant hands hooking themselves around the doorframe before pulling themselves into the room.

"Rowy, they said you did bad things. You promised that you would never leave me!"

And he had intended to keep the promise. However, it needed to be broken if he wanted to get out alive. With Boxy though, promises were like a lifetime thing to remember. They associated with their trust meter. You broke one single promise, and then you were dead to them. And now they included Rowan on the list. That wasn't good for him. Not in the slightest.

"Creator, you're boring me now..."

Despite Boxy's childish tone, their demeanour suggested that they were on the hunt. Constantly looking over their shoulder, they momentarily paused to sniff the room. Rowan always made sure to be careful and never went without deodorant that most of the employees used. It ensured that his natural scent was covered and that Boxy wouldn't be able to know what he smelt like. He lifted himself a little, peeking over the desk and saw Boxy on the other side of the room. Their bright eyes were now darkened with the bloodlust and hatred for the man.

I don't want to die.

For all they knew, he had left them to rot. And in their eyes, he had committed the biggest crime on the planet. Letting the bad people experiment on the soul trapped inside their body. The mascot part took full control, hunting down their former handler, making sure that he would pay for what he did to them.

SMASH!

The desk they were hiding under toppled as something grabbed it, tossing it to the other side of the room. Towering over him in glorious fashion was Boxy Boo. Their gloved hands immediately grabbed Rowan, lifting him in the air and bringing over so they were face to face. A plastic, hardened nose was close to Rowan's as Boxy's eyes narrowed at the sight of him cowering at their presence.

"You shouldn't have left, Rowan. Any last words before I kill ya?"

A first name basis for Boxy Boo meant that you were in trouble. The worker of the factory found himself hyperventilating, wishing for anything but to be in the mascot's hands. He looked the thing dead in the eye and whispered more to himself his final words. He closed his eyes as the not see the betrayal still linger behind the killer mask Boxy wore during this interaction.

"I'm sorry. I was only trying to help."

He squeezed his eyes tight as to prepare for the final blow. He at least had the knowledge that he would receive his eternal punishment in hell for what he did to these innocent toys. Rowan had never been personally involved in the experiments, but he knew of what these monsters, these people did to them. Especially Elliot Ludwig. The man was more of a monster than the earliest experiments. A thought that passed quickly was that of 1006. He meant well, but his intentions were always passed as deadly or intentionally violent.