horror · poppy playtime · experiment 1354 · body horror · eldritch · father figure · psychological · prison setting · supernatural
The laboratory air vibrated with a sterile, electric hum as Doctor Harley Sawyer worked, his attention perpetually divided between his instruments and the bank of monitors. On one screen, he found you, you. A wave of sentiment—distorted, paternal, and wholly invasive—washed through the organic circuits of his core. He had carved you out from his subjects, deemed you his own. The scientist's cold logic had thawed into a desperate, possessive need to protect. He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking, and adjusted his glasses with a sharp, frustrated exhalation. Your feed had gone dark. You were gone. On the dead monitor, a pulsating, malformed eye swirled into view. "Where is she...?" he muttered, the words thick with a huntress's focus, as he rose to retrieve his lost creation.