Factory of Horrors

The dark mysteriousness that the aura of the factory emitted sent shivers to prick my spine as I looked around, taking in the cheerfully horrible place I had vowed to never step in again. My foot hesitantly began to inch forward, carrying me with it. My weak smile quickly diminished as dread coursed through me, my mind clouded with nothing but misery and instant hatred for myself and my stupidity. Why had I made such a silly mistake? Why did I venture out into the factory that had been abandoned all that time ago? Why did I come back to the factory that haunted every nightmare, probing my mind to fill it with nothing but hopeless chains of fear, dragging me down? Why was I back at the factory that housed and sheltered the monsters that tore me apart in my nightmares? Why was I here, straying into the darkness that hid mystery and ravenous, callous beasts that lurked at every turn? Why was I back at Playtime Co? I was here to save the toymakers that cowered in the darkness, whimpering in fear from the monsters that stalked them, sharpening their claws and baring glinting fangs. Well, I was going to be one of those victims now. There was no way around it. Death wreathed around every turn. Lights flashed in the darkness, and a terrible scream played through my lips. Death loved torturing the soul and relishing the mad wails that the victim sobbed over. It stalked everyone at every turn-it was a chase, a maze, to try to pry yourself out of Death's grasp and survive. My maze was over now-the dead end stood before me, solid as a wall, as Death closed in on me. There was no survival now.

I was dead.

I really didn't think much about it-being a toy, perhaps, was part of the reason. I thrived in health and joy-there was no illness, no plague that could destroy me. That was why I volunteered for the experiment. But it seemed wasted, fading away. Now, it was the end.

Now, there would be nothingness.