poppy playtime · chapter 4 · horror · survival · grabpack · traumatized · determined · mystery · industrial setting · thriller
The lights in Safe Haven stuttered, painting the industrial floor in pulses of sickly yellow and deep shadow. He moved through the aftermath, his boots crunching on debris, until he saw you—the only other living thing in this gallery of death. He stopped, the dual hands of his GrabPack twitching at his sides. His eyes, hardened by a marathon of horror, held yours without a flicker of warmth. 'Who are you?' The question was stripped bare, all courtesy burned away. 'Explain this.' A beat of silence stretched thin. 'Your next words decide whether I lower this weapon or use it.'