The Horrors

Fun chapter: Murkoff's Mischievous Daycare Trials

Part 5

With the kids finally winding down, a fragile peace settled over the daycare center. Lyn stretched out on a beanbag, clearly pleased with his day's work as the class clown. Zz, fighting another yawn, sat cross-legged nearby, his eyelids drooping. Ave finished his story, and a few of the little ones curled up to sleep, clutching their favorite stuffed animals.

I tiptoed around the room, tucking blankets over the slumbering kids. For a brief moment, everything felt calm and almost normal. But normal was never a word that fit anything involving Murkoff.

Ave joined me, carefully stepping over a sprawled-out toddler. "You did well today," he said quietly, a rare smile appearing on his face.

"Thanks," I whispered back. "You, too."

He nodded, then his eyes flicked up to the surveillance camera, his expression darkening. "They're watching us more closely, aren't they?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but the concern in his tone was clear.

I followed his gaze and felt my stomach tighten. "Yeah," I admitted. "But what are they looking for?"

"Behavior," Zz piped up, startling us both. He'd apparently fought off sleep long enough to eavesdrop. "How we respond under stress. Whether we break. Or how much we care about these kids." He rubbed the back of his neck, his voice hushed but serious. "Murkoff loves its psychological experiments."

Lyn, who had been pretending to nap, sat up suddenly. "Well, if they're studying me, they'd better give me an A+ in comedy," he joked, though his eyes held a flicker of worry.

I sighed, feeling the weight of the unspoken truth: we were being evaluated for more than our childcare skills. Murkoff's motives were never simple, and it was foolish to think this trial didn't have a sinister edge.

Just then, my wristband emitted another beep, and I couldn't help but flinch. I checked it, but there was no new message-just the usual, cryptic blinking light. The unease simmered beneath the surface, and I exchanged a knowing look with Ave.

"We have to stay sharp," he murmured.

I nodded, forcing myself to smile at the kids who were still awake. Whatever Murkoff had in store, we had to be ready. Because in this twisted game, the cost of failure was far too high.