He pressed forward, pushing open another door.

An archive room.

Rows of metal shelves loomed in the dim light, filled with files, binders, and decayed paperwork. The air was thick with dust, and the hum of flickering fluorescent lights cast eerie shadows across the floor.

A VHS player sat on a cluttered desk in the corner.

Without hesitation, he pulled out the black tape he’d found earlier and pushed it into the slot. The screen crackled to life.

---

[VHS RECORDING]

Eddie M.N. Ritterman: "This recklessness has to stop. The Doctor has no regard for the safety of this facility or its staff."

Stella Greyber: "Or the children in Playcare. I've tried to set boundaries with him. He doesn't listen to me."

Leith Pierre: "He doesn't listen to any of us. Not really. Not anymore. And he's behind schedule. Playtime may have turned a corner financially, but that doesn't change the fact that his 'Bigger Bodies Initiative' is still a money hole."

Eddie M.N. Ritterman: "The guy’s gotta go, Leith."

Leith Pierre: "And how do you suggest we do that?"

Eddie M.N. Ritterman: "This wouldn’t be the first time we’ve made someone disappear."

Leith Pierre: "We can't kill him, Eddie."

Eddie M.N. Ritterman: (Pause) "…Why not?"

Leith Pierre: "Because like it or not, we need him."

Stella Greyber: "Eddie’s right, though. Sawyer can’t keep leading this project."

Leith Pierre: (Chuckles darkly) "So we just ask him to step down? Take a demotion?"

Stella Greyber: "No, but—"

Leith Pierre: "I'm not disagreeing. Huggy loose in the woods, that business with CatNap, the whole Stoll thing—"

Eddie M.N. Ritterman: "And half a dozen other incidents—"

Leith Pierre: "Right. And all that pales in comparison to the Theater Incident."

Stella Greyber: (Shudders) "I don't even want to talk about that..."

Eddie M.N. Ritterman: "So... we can't kill the son of a bitch, but we need to knock him out of the equation. What do we do?"

Leith Pierre: (Leaning forward) "There is one thing I can think of..."

---

The tape ended with a harsh click.

The Doctor… Who is he??

The question echoed in his mind as his eyes scanned the room.

A green VHS tape sat on a filing cabinet nearby. He grabbed it, sliding it into the player.

The screen flickered. Another conversation.



---

[VHS RECORDING]

Leith Pierre: "So, Ms. Greyber. Have you considered what we talked about?"

Stella Greyber: (Hesitant) "Yes, Mr. Pierre. I... I won’t lie, I was at a loss for words at first. The information hit me pretty hard. I felt so badly—I still do—for the ones that go through the, um, testing."

Leith Pierre: "You really care about them."

Stella Greyber: "Yes. It hurts to see them hurt, I don’t think there’s any way around that feeling..." (Deep breath) "But... I did some soul searching. Started thinking about the bigger picture... about what your researchers wrote."

Leith Pierre: "And?"

Stella Greyber: "Well, the work itself—what you’ve all been able to do... I mean, it’s nothing short of a miracle. I know you have more goals to hit, but even as is, just... wow. Do they know when it’ll be... fully ready?"

Leith Pierre: "We’re still working out the timeline."

Stella Greyber: "I see."

Leith Pierre: "You know, the project lead—Dr. Sawyer—wasn’t sure about giving you that information in the first place. He thinks your affection toward those kids could be a liability... What do you think about that?"

Stella Greyber: "I took this job because I wanted to help change kids’ lives for the better. Of course, these procedures are far from ideal; I cried like a baby when I read them. But I started looking past the here and now, started looking down the road a bit. That’s when it clicked." (A pause, then firmer) "What your researchers can do down here will someday help a lot of people out there, including so, so many kids. That’s a bigger and better change than I could ever have hoped to make. That’s a change I want to help make."

Leith Pierre: (Chuckles) "I knew you'd understand."

---

The screen went black.

He stared at it, mind racing.

This Dr. Sawyer... The Experiments... The testing on children...

Now he knew why that voice was familiar.

It was actually him..

They wanted to get rid of him, but couldn’t.

He was too important.

And Stella Greyber... she knew.

Knew what they were doing. Knew the suffering. And yet... she stayed.

She justified it.

She accepted it.

He exhaled, gripping the edges of the desk. So much of Playtime Co.’s darkness was deeper than he imagined.

He had so many more questions.

But for now—he needed to keep moving.

He slid the keycard into the scanner. A beep. A click. The door unlocked.

Pushing it open, he entered the Prison Utility Zone.

The air was thick with dampness, the dim lighting barely illuminating the rusted catwalks and metal grates beneath his boots. He carefully stepped forward, navigating around debris.

Then—a crack.

Before he could react, the floor beneath his feet gave way.

"Shit!"

He plummeted, landing hard in a dark, confined space. His breath caught in his throat as a low, guttural growl reverberated through the air.

He wasn't alone.

His eyes adjusted to the dim light, revealing a massive silhouette.



Pianosaurus.

The animatronic dinosaur turned, its glowing red eyes locking onto him. Metal teeth clacked together as it reared up, its joints creaking. Then—it charged.

He bolted.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he darted through the confined space, searching for an exit. There was none.

The sound of Pianosaurus’ stomping grew louder.



It lunged.

Then—something lashed out from the darkness.

Stretchy arms.



They wrapped around Pianosaurus’ neck, yanking it off its feet. The massive creature was swung violently across the room, crashing into the walls before being dragged into the shadows.

A sickening CRUNCH.

Silence.

Then—something rolled into view.

Pianosaurus’ severed head.

"Now that hit the spot! I haven't eaten in weeks!"

His breath was ragged, his heart pounding against his ribs. He barely had time to process what had just happened—one second, Pianosaurus had been charging at him, and the next, it was ripped apart and devoured by whatever was lurking in the shadows.

Then—it emerged.



A plump, dough-like creature waddled into the dim light, its multi-colored, shifting clay-like flesh rippling with each step. Its beady black eyes twinkled with amusement, as if this was all some big joke.

Its light blue head and torso wobbled slightly as it moved, its thin neck supporting a simple, cartoonish face. It wore a blue bowler hat, perched slightly askew. Its arms were long and chunky, the left orange, the right yellow, both swelling near the forearms. Its legs were nothing but stubby red nubs, making it bounce slightly as it walked.

Despite what it had just done—despite the severed head lying nearby—it grinned.

Or, at least, the simple line that was its mouth curved slightly upward??.



"Hiya there, pal! Don’t worry, I won’t eat you!"

Then it laughed.

A lighthearted, jolly giggle, like it hadn’t just brutally massacred a giant animatronic dinosaur.

His entire body stiffened. His mind screamed at him to run, but his legs wouldn’t budge.

What the hell was this thing?!

The doughy creature spread its thick arms theatrically.



"I’m Doey! I was told to expect you. This way. Follow me!"

His pulse was still racing, but somehow, his mouth moved before his brain caught up.

"Oh, wow. Lucky me. First, I almost got turned into a dinosaur meal, and now I get an escort from Playtime Co.’s clay."

Doey giggled again, unfazed.



"You’re funny! C’mon, pal, stick with me, and you’ll be just fine."

He exhaled sharply, running a shaky hand down his face.

"Right. Because nothing says ‘safety’ like a guy who just turned a prehistoric nightmare into a Happy Meal."

Doey just smiled wider.



"Exactly! Now let’s go!"

He let out a nervous chuckle, keeping a healthy distance as he followed.