Yazmina staggered through the dimly lit corridor, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. The world blurred at the edges.

She was running on fumes now.

The bullet wound in her side burned like fire, every step jolting the pain deeper into her ribs. But that wasn't the worst part.

Something was changing.

Her fingers trembled. Her veins felt like live wires beneath her skin. Something foreign was seeping into her bloodstream-Poppy gas, her own altered blood, and the venom of a scorpion, all warring for dominance.

She blinked hard, trying to steady herself. Her vision doubled. The emergency lights above stretched into long, twisting beams, flickering too slowly, too unnaturally.

She clenched her teeth. No. Not now.

Sawyer's voice crackled "You need to-"

Static.

Yazmina's heart skipped.

"Sawyer?"

Silence.

Then a burst of garbled noise-cutting out just as quickly.

Shit.

Yazmina exhaled, forcing herself forward. One step. Another.

She needed to get to the cable car.

She rounded a corner, gripping the wall for support. Ahead, through the glass-paneled corridor, she saw it-suspended over the abyss of the lower factory levels. The only way to Playcare.

But between her and that cable car?

A whole lot of empty space and a very narrow maintenance walkway hanging over it.

Yazmina groaned. "Great."

Her body swayed, balance wavering. The infection-mutation-whatever the hell this was-was getting worse.

Her head pounded. Her pulse roared in her ears.

Still, she forced herself forward.

She wasn't dying here.

Not in this hellhole.

Not before she got answers.

Yazmina gritted her teeth as she forced one foot in front of the other. The world felt too sharp. Every noise, every flickering light, even the faint scent of oil and rust-it was all too much.

And yet, beneath the agony, beneath the haze creeping into her mind, one thought burned clear:

Pierre. Ritterman.

Where the hell were they?

She staggered, pressing a bloodied hand to her side. They did this to her. Injected her with-

Her fingers twitched, itching for her scissors.

Oh, she would find them.

And when she did, she would settle their accounts.

One. By. One.

She could almost picture it-her blades slicing through their flesh.

A hundred times.

A shudder wracked through her. Her heart pounded against her ribs.

What was she thinking?

Yazmina shook her head, sucking in a sharp breath.

Then-

A sudden movement in her pocket.

She jolted.

The scorpion squirmed, its tiny legs pressing against the fabric, its tail twitching erratically.

She froze.

The aggression. The urge to kill.

That wasn't her.

Was it?

Her grip loosened on her scissors. Slowly, carefully, she exhaled.

Focus. Get to Playcare. Survive first-everything else later.

She took another step onto the suspended walkway. The metal groaned beneath her weight.

Then she heard it.

A deep, slow, crunch.

Like someone-or something-was chewing.

Yazmina's breath hitched. She turned her head slowly.

At first, she saw nothing. Just the dim corridor ahead, stretching toward the cable car.

Then-movement.

A shadow.

Looming.

The emergency lights flickered, illuminating the figure in patches-green skin, long neck, jagged spikes.

And a wide, toothy grin-formed entirely of piano keys.

Pianosaurus.

A mutant dinosaur built from discarded parts, forgotten in the depths of the factory. A failure, according to Sawyer. One that couldn't even play its own rhythms in tune.

But now?

It wasn't playing music.

It was feeding.

Yazmina's stomach turned. Something wet dripped from its grinning teeth.

The dinosaur lifted its head from whatever poor soul it had been devouring.

It saw her.

The grin stretched across Pianosaurus' wide, reptilian face, its ivory piano keys slick with crimson. The discordant sound of wet chewing still echoed, but the moment its beady black eyes locked onto Yazmina, it went silent.

A low, warbling hum vibrated from its throat, as if testing out a note-then, a grotesque symphony erupted.

CLANG! PLINK! CLUNK!

Its jagged keyboard teeth mashed together, creating an off-key melody that sent a violent shiver up Yazmina's spine.

She tightened her grip on her scissors, heart hammering.

That thing was playing with her.

It took a step forward.

She took a step back.

Another step.

Creeeaaak.

The metal beneath her groaned.

Yazmina's eyes flicked toward the cable car station at the end of the catwalk. The doors were open. The controls-hopefully still functional.

She just needed to get there.

Pianosaurus lifted a massive clawed hand and rested it against the wall, its multicolored talons scraping down the metal in slow, deliberate strokes.

It was watching her. Enjoying her hesitation.

Then-

It lunged.

BANG!

Yazmina threw herself sideways as Pianosaurus' enormous frame slammed onto the catwalk. The entire platform shook violently, bolts snapping, wires fraying.

"Shit-!"

She hit the railing, hard. Her vision blurred. The world tilted dangerously as the floor beneath her gave a shrill metallic whine.

She scrambled upright-just as Pianosaurus' massive tail swung toward her.

CLANG!

She ducked, barely missing the clubbed end of its tail as it smashed into the railing, bending the metal like cheap wire. Sparks rained down.

Yazmina's breath came ragged and fast.

She had seconds.

With a final burst of strength, she dashed for the cable car.

Ten feet.

The sound of metal crashing behind her.

Five feet.

The piano-keys chattered in anticipation.

One-

She jumped.

Her hands caught the edge of the cable car's doorway, fingers scrambling for a hold as she pulled herself inside.

The moment her feet hit the floor, she slammed the emergency lever.

A loud whirrrr rang through the chamber. The doors sealed shut.

For a fraction of a second, silence.

Then-

BANG!

The cable car lurched violently as Pianosaurus' claws scraped against the glass.

It let out a discordant, warbling roar, slamming its massive hands against the metal.

Too late.

The car detached from the platform, suspended high above the factory floor.

As the mechanical hum of the lift carried her toward Playcare, Yazmina collapsed against the wall, exhaling sharply.

Her entire body ached. She was still bleeding. The world swam in and out of focus.

And worst of all?

Something was happening to her.

She clutched her side, the scorpion squirming violently in her pocket, its tiny claws digging against the fabric.

Her hands were shaking. Her breath ragged.

Her mind buzzed with static.

Something was wrong.

And soon-she wouldn't be able to ignore it.

---

Deep beneath the factory, past the reinforced tunnels and steel corridors, a small transport unit moved steadily toward Playcare.

Three workers in white Playtime Co. uniforms wheeled a massive containment board down the dimly lit hall, securing it tightly to the transport rails.

Strapped to the board, Kissy Missy remained eerily still.

Her thick pink fur was matted, her large black pupils dull, her limbs secured by industrial-grade restraints.

She hadn't spoken since the trip began.

The workers didn't think much of it.

"Honestly," one of them muttered, checking his clipboard, "I don't get why she's being sent to Playcare."

"Mr. Pierre said she'll be a great help with the kids."

"Help?" Another scoffed. "She's a giant toy, not a damn babysitter."

"She's been obedient for weeks. No recorded aggression, no incidents. The higher-ups say she's different from the others."

"That's what they said about Catnap."

Thinking about that creepy feline made the first worker shudder. "Don't remind me."

They continued down the hallway, the wheels of the transport cart clacking softly against the floor.

Kissy Missy didn't move.

Didn't speak.

But deep inside, something was wrong.