He spotted a door, but it's-locked.

Great. Another battery cell puzzle.

Sighing, he started searching. It didn't take long to find the required cells, tucked away in forgotten corners. He plugged them in, and with a mechanical whirr, the door unlatched.

He went inside but something caught his eye.

A new GrabPack hand.



It was purple, with exposed wiring and two circuit boards, its design more complex than the others. He reached out, pulled it free from the dusty corner, and carefully attached it to his GrabPack.

A tape on the floor caught his attention.

Curious, he picked it up and slid it into a nearby VHR player. The screen flickered, displaying a training video titled:

THE GRABPACK 2.0

A voiceover began:

"Introducing the GrabPack 2.0! Featuring the all-new Purple Hand-also known as the Jump Hand or Rocket Hand!"



The footage cut to an employee using the hand, launching themselves into the air with ease.

"Equipped with advanced propulsion jets, this hand allows users to reach new heights effortlessly! Simply attach to a designated Jump Pad, and let physics do the rest!"

The video demonstrated someone landing safely, the jets slowing their descent.

"Worried about fall damage? Don't be! The Purple Hand's air jets ensure a smooth landing every time. And don't forget-you can easily swap between your hands for different situations!"

The tape ended, the screen cutting to black.

He processed the information, flexing his new Purple Hand.

"Alright, let's see what you can do."

As he exited the room, his gaze landed on a purple Jump Pad directly beside the door.

He followed the instructions, slamming his new hand down.

WHOOSH!

His body was launched upward, landing smoothly on the second floor, right in front of an open doorway.

"Oh, I'm gonna have way too much fun with this."



Navigating the facility was easier now, with multiple Jump Pads scattered around. He soared over gaping holes, bypassed collapsed walkways, and maneuvered through the decaying structure with newfound speed.

As he ventured deeper, something strange caught his attention.



A thick, red liquid pooled across the floor.

It wasn't blood.

The texture was off-almost synthetic. And the way it faintly steamed, mixing with the air-

"This has to be related to the Red Smoke..."

His unease grew, but he pushed forward, rerouting power through the tangled wires of the old system.

With the final switch activated, he made his way back to the main machine-a massive device with three towering tubes, only one containing the ominous Red Smoke.



He pressed the central button.



The machine whirred to life.

The smoke in the third tube began transferring to the center, shifting as planned-

Then-



BLACKOUT.

The lights flickered once. Then-nothing. The entire facility lost power.

"Oh, come on!"

The moment the power cut out, his phone rang.

"Oh no! Someone killed the power!"

Ollie's voice crackled through the speaker, urgency laced in his words.

"Okay, I sent you another key. It's under the statue. Use that to get into Home Sweet Home. Then once you're inside, find the building's backup generator."

The call cut off.

He sighed, rubbing his temples.

"How does this kid have an endless supply of keys?"

Shaking his head, he went back outside, retrieving the key from under the towering statue. Before moving on, he glanced at a map, pinpointing his destination-Home Sweet Home.



He entered through the creaking doors, greeted by a set of stairs spiraling downward. A musty scent filled the air as he descended.

His footsteps echoed against the walls, where pictures of children were pinned-some smiling, some... empty-eyed.

He opened the door at the bottom.

WHOOSH!



A burst of thick red gas flooded into the room.

He stumbled forward, coughing as the fumes wrapped around him like a suffocating fog.

"What the hell?"

He pressed on, pushing through the haze. Another door loomed ahead. When he opened it, he found himself standing in an endless hallway.

The walls stretched far into the distance, lined with numerous doors, each one closed, each one concealing something unknown.

Then-

RING.

His phone vibrated violently in his hand.

He answered.

"RUN!"

The call cut off.

His blood ran cold.

Eyes darting left and right, he scanned the hall.

Nothing.

"Run from what?"

Silence.

Shaking off his unease, he moved forward, passing door after door, until a faint crackling sound reached his ears.



A radio.

Static flickered, and then-

"Tragic news this morning, as of 9:45 AM... Local authorities reported the discovery of a young boy's body on the estate of the late Elliot Ludwig, esteemed toy maker and founder of Playtime Co."

His breath hitched.

"At this time, the identity of the child awaits official confirmation. Found in an upstairs bedroom, stuffed inside a large duffle bag. Officers on scene reported that the remains appeared to have been disturbed. Organs, as well as key bones from the skeletal structure, were reported missing from the body."

His stomach churned.

"It is unknown at this time whether this extraction was, in fact, the cause of death."

The report continued, detailing Playtime Co.'s official statement, defending Elliot Ludwig's innocence.

"It's sickening. Elliot Ludwig was a great man. Those who knew him understood that he was not capable of violence, let alone what others now claim..."

The broadcast faded into static.

He moved on, the dim halls stretching endlessly, twisting in ways that made no sense.



Then-another radio.

"Despite Playtime Co.'s insistence on Ludwig's innocence, many remain skeptical. Neighbors reported that Ludwig often returned home at strange hours of the night, only to depart again before sunrise. Some believed he was sick. Others, that-"

A sharp distortion cut through the message.

Then, a different voice took over.

"DON'T MOVE. DON'T MOVE AN INCH."

His pulse spiked.

The voice was metallic, robotic-wrong.

Then, as if nothing had happened, the news report resumed.

"Playtime Co. intends to keep Ludwig's name within its brand regardless. What is sure to be a long legal battle will follow."

The broadcast ended.

Then-

BANG!

Something slammed against the walls.

BANG!

BANG!

The noise grew closer.

Faster.

He turned sharply, only to be met with yet another radio, already playing.

"I find your presence intrusive."

The voice was angry now.

"After all this time, you return. You come in here, and you kill, and you murder; you pillage and destroy."

The air grew heavy.

"Your presence was demanded ten years ago, and you didn't show up."

His breath quickened.

"8/8/1995. You were supposed to be here. Why weren't you here? You missed the event, you missed the meeting, you missed the party.

You have no right to be here."

The words drilled into his skull.

"8/8/1995."

His head spun. He didn't know what they meant. He just needed to move.

Desperate to escape, he turned a corner and stumbled into a new room.



An infirmary.

The dim emergency lights flickered over rows of rusted beds and scattered medical tools.

His eyes landed on a tape, resting on one of the beds.



Another one.

With shaky hands, he plugged it into a nearby player.

The screen came to life, displaying a bright, happy image of Huggy Wuggy's smiling face.



"Welcome, new employees! Here at Playtime Co., you'll find your new family to be as loving and supportive as your own!"

The voice was cheerful, but off.

"Feel free to wander the halls! Visit the mess hall! Watch over the children! You belong here!"

The tape continued, explaining the different career paths available-science innovationists, Playcare counselors...

Then-

The tone shifted.

The screen flickered. Huggy Wuggy's smile twisted. The voice became distorted.

"Should you return years later, your conscience finally getting the better of you..."

A chilling pause.

"All that awaits you are incomprehensible horrors-each hungry for your return."

The air grew thick with something unnatural.

"Their smiling mouths... full of teeth. And meat. And plastic."

The screen flickered violently.

Huggy Wuggy's face twisted further-his mouth opening wider. The tape's final words hissed through the speakers.

"Or perhaps... they won't allow you such time to figure your place in a world you've left behind."

A pause.

Then-

"A world that's theirs now."

The screen glitched.

A monstrous version of Huggy Wuggy crawled out of the TV.