Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A large clubbed hand reached up out of the darkness and grabbed the side of the lift tightly. The glass panels you stood on cracked as another large hand came into view, lifted high into the air.

And then there was a face.

The monster was about four times your size. Its skin was tightly pulled back, flush against its skull, or whatever lay underneath the sickly shade of green. Like the bird you’d seen before, its skin almost looked like rubber when shown against the lift’s fluorescent light. Large risen veins were scattered across its forehead and face, pulsating rhythmically. The skin around its mouth was pulled back into a grotesque smile, revealing a mouth full of teeth that looked as if they’d been jammed into the gums haphazardly, rather than grown. Its eyes were far too small for its head - a shiver ran down your spine at the chilling uncanniness.

The creature arched its body backwards, falling down from where it had climbed up the lift, pulling you down with it.

You gasped, too scared to scream, knowing death was quickly approaching you, and knowing, without a doubt, that you would certainly die without knowing what happened to your child.

You felt wind against your face as you fell, and then everything came to an abrupt end.

–

The house was newly refurbished - it was two bedrooms, one bathroom, and had brand new appliances in the kitchen.

It was almost a dream come true, if it weren’t for the high crime rates in the area. You knew the low cost of rent had to come from somewhere - but you’d have preferred it if it were from an old oven, rather than the high breaking and entering incidents that seemed to be frequent in this neighborhood. Despite your worry, you could tell that, thank goodness, your child seemed quite content. Excited, you could even say, seeing as a new opportunity for friends was just rounding the corner. But that did bring you to another concern.

Schooling. You had yet to enroll them in a decent school, which was actually the reason for the move in the first place. On your way to work (you worked retail - nothing glamorous) you always passed many highly accredited schools, ones that touted themselves as the top schools in Canada, and who prided themselves in their production of successful leaders and businesspeople. You wanted your kid to have that opportunity, the one you never had, so with a rigid budget you planned on sticking to, you gave up your old life and old home, packed everything up, and moved into the cheapest (but still livable) house you could find.

The couple hundred, plus what you were getting for overtime each week at work, all added up to just what tuition would cost them.

Moving day went smoothly, to your relief. Your child had never exactly been good with meeting strangers, but the three men you’d hired to help move your furniture and boxes were great with kids - and all three fathers themselves, you’d found out. They set your kid to work with menial tasks at first, (“Can you move this box of jewelry into your parent’s bedroom?”, “Help us move this box of clothes into your room, ok?”) and then when everything was in their room, they made sure the kid got busy with organizing everything so you had one less thing to worry about as the moving day began to wrap up.

When they left, you tipped the movers graciously. Perhaps a bit more than you had initially planned, but they had done such a good job, you didn’t really care. You watched the large moving truck slowly back out of your driveway and eventually drive off into the distance, giving you the go-ahead to close the door and begin settling in.

You closed the heavy storm door with a thud and fiddled with the lock, and after a bit of difficulty, you finally got it closed. With a huff, you pressed both hands against your face, attempting to decompress after so much had happened in the short span of a few hours. You’d been so busy the last couple days with moving that a moment to breathe was difficult to come by. The short moment of respite was more than welcome, but, against your better judgment, you decided to use it to grab your laptop and sit at the dining room table - to look for some schools for your kid.

You’d always had an odd talent for finding good apartments and jobs online. After doing some searching for a few minutes, you felt a strong sense of relief once you found out that it applied to finding schools as well - so it didn’t take you long to narrow your choices down to a few different places. Admittedly, nearly all of them caught your eye. Ones that specialized in certain subjects seemed to stand out in particular amongst all the others. You made a list and deliberated for an hour or so, knowing you needed to get it right.

You’d gotten it down to three schools. The ones you’d chosen were pretty evenly matched in both price and quality, and all focused on STEM subjects, which is what you knew your child would be most excited about. One in particular stuck out though, and they had a tour available for the next morning.

Maybe this is the one, you thought as you grabbed your laptop and walked to your kid’s room, knocking on the door a couple of times as you stepped in the doorway.

“Hey bud, I’m looking at new schools for you and I think I found a good one. Want to take a look?”

The kid’s eyes lit up - they’d been going through a box of toys on the ground, but immediately stopped when you mentioned school. “Yeah, sure!”

Your heart warms as you sit on the ground against their bed, and they scoot next to you, pressing the cheek to your arms as they try to get a closer look at your screen.

What a strange kid. No child you’d ever met was as excited for school as they were. You had no idea where they got it from - not you, that was for sure - but you were thankful they seemed motivated to study, at least in these early years.

“So,” You started, pulling up the review page to get some pictures of the school, “This is BanBan’s Kindergarten, they just started teaching kids like you a couple years ago. They’ll teach you a lot of science stuff. You like that, right?”

They nodded their head vigorously, excitement evident on their face. “I would get to do cool stuff with test tubes and stuff?”

“I’m sure you would.” You shrugged. They stood up and jumped up and down excitedly.

“Yes! Yes! I wanna!”

You laughed, standing and ruffling their hair. “Alright, we’ll go look at it in the morning, ok? You’ll have to be up early, though.”

“Ok! I’ll be up, I promise!”

The kid went back to organizing their toys, humming a song and looking happier than they had in months. You smiled and took your laptop back to the dining room table, ready to schedule that tour.

You didn’t really notice any red flags right off the bat. The school looked extremely clean - it had a very modern look, sleek and sharp, which was something you knew would benefit your kid. Much like you, they got overwhelmed quite easily, especially if there was clutter everywhere. The clean minimalist look would have certainly worked in their favor. Not only that, but it didn’t look like a very large place - there seemed to be only one classroom, with a cafeteria and play area, so having that connection with teachers would be good too.

… Your only reservation was with these characters you saw plastered everywhere.

You knew that a lot of schools had mascots, but none seemed quite this… interesting. It looked like they’d been done in Microsoft Paint, that drawing app you’d grown up with as a teenager. Instead of there only being one mascot, there were six of them, and instead of being normal animals (except for a pink bird and an orange jellyfish) they seemed like weird humans with rainbow colors slapped on.

It was a small detail, but it really put you off for some reason.

But you could ask the person at the school about it tomorrow. So you put aside that concern for the time being, and went ahead with scheduling the tour for the next morning.

Now, you could finally do some unpacking. You closed your computer and headed to your bedroom, starting with putting your mattress on your bed and going from there. You made some good progress, only left with putting clothes away, but you were never good at that anyway, so you ignored it and decided to get a move on in the living room. As soon as you decided on that, there was a little voice behind you, closer than you’d expected it to be.

“Pama?”

You look down and your kid was staring up at you, eyes wide and bottom lip sticking out pleadingly. It’s an expression they only gave you when they were about to ask you for something. You sighed, smiling.

“Yeah, what’s up?” You got down on one knee to be level with them.

“... Can we get pizza for dinner?”

“Too tired to handle my cooking tonight?” The kid stared at you meaningfully, as if to say yes, and you let out a bark of laughter. “Cheese pizza it is.”

“With stuffed crust!” They added, grinning.

Your evening after that was lovely. It was nice, after a long day of unpacking a bunch of boxes and being so tense, to finally unwind and just let yourself relax. Surrounded by boxes you had decided to ignore, you and the kid sat in front of the TV watching Bluey, eating pizza and drinking soda together.

Unfortunately, the next morning was not nearly as fantastic. It was a struggle to get the kid out of bed (being in a new place was tough, and sleeping there was tougher) and they had refused to eat breakfast, so the crankiness began early. It was your own fault for scheduling the tour for 9 AM, but you wanted to get this done and over with, and any more thinking about it had completely slipped your mind since you’d been so busy the day before.

“I know it’s early, kid, I’m sorry.” You sighed as you buckled them into their car seat. Their face was red and wet with tears. They squirmed in their seat, shifting back and forth uncomfortably as they huffed, preparing to let out another cry.

“We can get breakfast after the visit, ok? I can get you those frozen pancakes from the store that you like.” You attempted to bargain with them, to no avail. “...Ok. Deep breaths for me bud, ok? Ready, one, two,”

You inhaled loudly for dramatic effect, putting your hands on their shoulders. They stopped squirming a little, breathing in as deep as their little lungs could, then you exhaled. They followed suit. You felt your whole body relax a little, thankful it’s working, and so then you repeated the cycle three or four more times. The kid eventually sniffled, reaching out their arms for a hug. You obliged, holding them gently.

After a few moments you pulled away, using a hand to fix their hair a bit as you held their cheek with your other hand.

“You need a tissue?”

They nodded, so you produce one out from the seatback pocket, wiping their face dry.

“Ok, all set now. You ok?”

“Yeah…” They mumbled. They looked even more tired now, and you sighed, nodding once. You closed the door and sat down in the driver’s seat, pulling up the directions on your phone to BanBan’s Kindergarten. It’s not too bad - only about a twenty minute drive, so you finally put the car and drive and pulled out of the driveway.

The drive was silent - you forgot to put on music before pulling away, and there’s no way in hell you would be on your phone while driving, with or without the kid in the car. You didn’t really care for driving in silence, but after the chaotic morning you had had, it was a nice peaceful moment to calm down.

About five minutes out from the Kindergarten, you heard the kid whisper something from the back seat.

“Hm? What was that?” You adjusted your rearview mirror to look at them.

“I’m sorry for throwing a tantrum.” They mumbled. You smiled softly. They were always so good at apologizing without being told to - maybe it was something to do with how you always told them about your own grown-up feelings and how hurting other people’s feelings could make you feel bad. You didn’t tout yourself as the best parent in the world, but it was moments like this, when the lessons you taught came back later, where you felt accomplished enough to pat yourself on the back.

“It’s ok, bud, thank you for apologizing. That makes me happy. Are you feeling better?”

“I’m tired. And hungry. Can we still get pancakes from the store after?”

“After the tour? Sure.” You nodded, and just as you finished talking, you pulled into the parking lot of the kindergarten.

It was far smaller than you’d expected. Even though the photos had shown how small it was, the real thing was different. The building was sleek and white with big windows, one story tall. There’s some nice potted plants out front - perfectly green and spotless, so you assumed that they were plastic. You let out a huff of laughter as you looked up at the sign above the building and realized the logo was a weird amalgamation of all the characters made into letters. At least it was colorful. Maybe you’d even find it cute, eventually.

You got your kid from the back seat. The two of you held hands as you walked in.

The lobby of the school was just as the pictures had been, the hardwood floor and white walls were spotless. A mural of the characters that you had seen on the website was up on the wall, with some nice benches sitting, pristine in the center of the room. A logo like the one outside that read “BanBan’s Kindergarten” was up behind the secretary’s desk to your right. It looked like, just past the desk, there was a doorway to another room, but you couldn’t quite see, though you craned your neck uncomfortably to try to get a look.

It was very quiet, since school didn’t start up for another month or so, and the receptionist’s desk to your right was empty. You walked up to it, saw a small button on the surface of the desk, and pressed it. A buzzing sound came from behind the double doors that, you assumed, separated the lobby from the rest of the school. After a few seconds, a woman came out, wearing a yellow blouse with a brown pencil skirt. Her three inch heels clacked loudly against the tile floor as she quickly walked up to the desk, where she finally sat down in her chair and exhaled deeply.

“I’m so sorry about that. Busy morning. How can I help you?”

“Hi, I had a tour scheduled? We just moved to the area, so we’re looking for a place to have them go to kindergarten.” You gently motioned your head towards your kid, who stared at the secretary shyly. "And I’m super sorry for being a bit late, we had a rough morning.” You laughed uncomfortably. The woman waved a hand dismissively, moving her gaze to her computer screen as she spoke.

“No worries, no worries. I’m late for everything, so I completely understand. Let me just get you checked in here, ok?”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

You looked down at your kid, who’s looking up at you, and you gave their hand a reassuring squeeze. They seemed to relax a little, still looking a little antsy about the new place. After a few short moments, the woman stood up and clapped her hands together.

“Ok! Let’s get started, so, first off, my name is Seline, I work as the secretary here, so I’ll be taking care of registration, checking you in and out for the day, making sure everything is correct with your classes, all that fun stuff, ok?” She walked around the corner of her desk through a doorway next to it, and you and your child followed close behind. She gestured to the room with a hand. “This is the cafeteria - now, lunch and snack times are included in tuition, but if you want to bring lunch from home, then we can deduct that from tuition per your request. Cleanliness is one of our top priorities, so we have like, five janitors for this tiny building.” She laughed, and you made yourself laugh along though you can’t see why it’s funny.

Seline turned around, walking past you and the kid to the double doors she’d just exited from a few minutes prior. She scanned a key card next to a scanner against the wall next to the door. She motioned for you and the kid to follow, starting to talk backwards down the hallway through the doors.

“As you can see, we do require keycards to get into the facilities themselves, so we take security extremely seriously here.” She started. You nodded along as she continued. “Through the windows on your left you can see our classroom, and we only have about nine or ten students per class right now that learn on rotation. So while one class is here, the other two will be in the play area to your right, or at lunch depending on the schedule. Altogether, we have about thirty kids.”

She led you both around the corner into the classroom, which was completely clean and had no sign of any use whatsoever. You hummed thoughtfully to yourself.

“So this is a really small school, huh? Who runs it? Is there a parent company, or…? Sorry for asking, but I didn’t see it listed on your website.”

“That would be our principal, Dr. Adam.” Seline responded. “He’s the owner and main operator of this school. He’s just really great with kids, and loves what he does.”

“Oh! When will I be able to meet him? I’d love to ask some questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Ah, he’s on vacation right now, unfortunately.” Seline seemed to deflate at your question, but quickly perked up again. “But he should be back in a few weeks, and I assure you that in the meantime, I am fully able to answer any questions you have in his stead.”

You nodded, a bit confused. You found it odd that a principal (and owner, for that matter) of such a school would take a vacation a mere three weeks out from the school year beginning. But you were sure he did it for a reason - after all, he was the owner of the school, and you were not.

“Would you like to take a look at the play area?” Seline suddenly said gently, bending down slightly to talk to your child. They looked up at you, and you nodded.

“It’s ok. Do you want to go?”

They smiled, nodded once to you, and ran out to the play area immediately. You and Seline followed suit, entering the large room, seeing them just in time to remind them to take off their shoes before running in. They stopped running, turned around, and took their shoes off faster than you had ever seen before. It earned a good laugh from both you and Seline.

You scanned the room - the playsets looked a lot like what you had growing up. Rubbery and shiny playsets from the mall, the kind that would tug on your skin if you went down the slide in shorts. The room was big enough to have some swings, too, which you found particularly cool.

Something caught your eye from the corner of the room.

You thought it to be just a pink blob of some kind, but upon looking more closely, it was that pink bird you had seen on the mural of the characters. You felt uneasy, and it was evident that Seline noticed this when she put a gentle hand on your shoulder. You jumped in surprise at the sudden contact.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I just noticed you seemed a bit concerned. What are you…” She followed your gaze and noticed the bird as well. “You noticed Opila? She’s new, just had her made.”

Seline motioned for you to follow, and you obliged. You both walked up to the bird, and you gave her a confused face. “It’s… kind of scary, no?”

Seline shrugged. “That’s what I thought. But the kids seem to love it, you know? I can’t imagine what Dr. Adam was thinking when he bought it, but, I personally just think birds are just scary in general, so my two cents don’t matter.”

The two of you laughed, pretended to say goodbye to the Opila statue, and walked away to sit down while your kid played for a few minutes. Eventually, they walked over, ready to leave, and as you walked back into the lobby, you made your decision.

“Would it be possible to register today?”

“Of course! We would love to have you this year!” Seline smiled brightly, sitting at her desk again and pulling up the proper paperwork on her desktop. “I’ll get that paperwork printed out for you and then you can just bring it back in the next week or so, okay?”

“Sounds great. Thanks for your help today, Seline. We just moved in yesterday, so it’s nice to have one less thing to worry about, you know?”

“Mhm! I totally understand. We’ve had some other families move to the area for our program, actually, so I’m sure you’ll get along just fine.”

You continued making small talk, mostly about the move, where you moved from, what you did for a living, and eventually, Seline handed you the fat stack of paperwork that had finally finished printing off.

“Okay, you should be all set to go! Please, don’t hesitate to call if you have any questions about the paperwork before the school year starts.”

“Thanks again Seline! Say thank you, ok?” You looked at your kid, who nodded at you and waved to Seline.

“Thank you Miss Seline! Bye!”

You pushed the door open, making sure your kid got out okay, and smiled at them. “How do you feel? Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I like the playsets.”

“Yeah? The bird was pretty cool too, right?”

Not that you thought the same yourself, but you had decided it would be easier to gauge if they felt the same unease you did if you just directly asked them. They took a moment longer than you thought they would to answer, long enough that you were able to get them buckled into their car seat.

“... It’s cool. I think I like the green guy more though.”

“Oh yeah? That’s fine too! Maybe they’ll get a big statue of that one too for the play area.”

“Yeah! Then we can climb on it and stuff!”

“Mhm!” You shut their car door and got into the front seat, buckling your seatbelt. “Now what about we go get those pancakes I promised you?”

The kid cheered as you pulled out of the parking lot and turned up the music. On the way there, you knew you were initially going to the grocery store for one thing, you figured it would just be easier to do your grocery shopping while you were there, since the kid seemed to be okay for now and you needed to restock your cabinets after the move. You needed milk, eggs, mac & cheese… whatever, you could just go through every aisle and grab what you need.

At the frozen aisle, you sent your kid a few freezer doors down to get the pancakes. And then, as soon as they’re out of earshot, you heard it.

“... I’m telling you, Weverly! He’s not coming back!”

A woman’s voice came from around the corner. Out of habit, you eavesdropped, hoping to catch some juicy gossip.

“He went to run some tests, what, like, a week and a half ago? … No, I know he’s smarter than that, he has two fucking doctorates! … You’re not even allowed down there, don’t even think about it!”

Hmm.. sounds like a relationship gone awry. Maybe she was dating a doctor or something. That had to suck. Between working so much and having a kid, your dating pool was pretty small anyway, so you weren‘t super into it. But you did love a good rom-com.

“Wev. Wev, listen.” The woman sounded exasperated, and you began to wonder if it was more serious than you had originally thought. “If - ugh, Wev. Shush. If he isn’t back by the time the semester starts, then I’ll go down there with you. Ok? I’m just saying… don’t get your hopes up.”

The more you listened, the more confused you became. But then you felt a kick at your ankle and you jumped a little.

“Pama, help me!”

You’d been so engrossed in listening in on the conversation you didn’t notice that your kid had come back with the pancakes. They were struggling to lift the heavy bag of pancakes, grunting as they brought it higher, a feeble attempt to hand it to you.

“Oops! Sorry, bud. I got distracted.”

You had no idea what the lady was talking about, but you’d already orchestrated an entire storyline for it in your head. It was an elaborate world that made you want to write a script about it. Maybe make it into a video game or something. You silently laughed to yourself, amused, continuing to ruminate on your theories until you finally got to checking out your groceries.

Despite your reservations about the weird mascots, the school seemed like a great fit, for both you and your kid. You could only hope the paperwork would be easy to fill out, and that you’d be able to finish unpacking before the year started.

Thankfully, once you got around to it, the paperwork wasn’t too much of a slog to get through. It was mostly just answering questions about yourself and your child, but you did have to pay a visit to the local library to print out some records from where they attended pre-school. Overall, it wasn’t too much of a hassle, and you’re glad for that.

One week before school began, you received a letter with all the information about your child’s new class and what to expect for the new year. Any supplies they needed were included in tuition, including lunches and snacks like Seline had told you. Classes started September first… so everything seemed normal. Except the name of their teacher was Weverly. Weverly Mason.

Where had you heard that name before?

You wracked your brain trying to think of where you’d heard of her, but to no avail. You gave up, guessing if you couldn’t remember, it must not have been that important.

And then, finally, the first day of classes came.

You woke up - you’d never been able to sleep well the night before the first day of school as a kid, and it looked like it was no different when it was your kid’s first day of school either. Running on four hours of sleep, you rolled out of bed, surprisingly feeling well-rested for the amount of sleep you had gotten. Time to wake the kid up - they were always so pleasant in the mornings, and after hearing horror stories from other parents about how their kids were little monsters, you thanked god that yours was a sweetheart. You’d really lucked out with this one.

You walked into their room and turned on a small bedside lamp to start to wake them up.

“Hey bud, good morning.” You crouched next to their bed, pulling their baby blanket off them a little. They had slept with it their whole life, and always took it on any long trips they’d gone on. Once, they’d lost the blanket in a Wal-Mart at 2 AM and the two of you looked for it for two hours until finally recovering it. The kid and that blanket were inseparable. “Ready for your first day of school?”

Their eyes opened almost immediately. “I am…Hmm… Can I pick my own outfit?” They rubbed their eyes sleepily.

You internally groaned - they always chose outfits where the colors matched, but the shades were completely different. And the styles of shirts and pants were always mismatched and never fit the weather.

But you did want the day to go smoothly. And they seemed so excited about it.

“Sure. If you get dressed quick, then we’ll have time to watch an episode of Bluey before we leave.” You smiled, giving them a kiss on the forehead. They gasped and shot up from bed and went straight to their dresser. You chuckled, leaving them to get ready so you could get yourself ready for work. You’d scheduled your days so that you could drop your kid off, go to work, and then pick them up on your way home. It was a blessing that your employer was a parent themself - they were so flexible at every turn throughout this odd transition phase you’d been in lately.

By some miracle, you and your child finished getting ready with just enough time to eat breakfast and watch an episode of Bluey, as promised. On the way to the school, you listened to some pop music you’d grown up with, and after the tightest hug you’ve ever given them, you finally send your child into their first day of real school. Ever.

It’s a bittersweet moment. If you didn’t have to go into work immediately after, you would cry.

Your baby is finally growing up.

–

Weeks went by. Things fell into a comfortable routine with your work and the kid’s school. You never did get to meet Dr. Adam, like you had wanted. But everything seemed to be going just fine, so you didn’t bother. Your child had been so good at doing their homework and performing well in their classes, that their school bought drones about a month into the year as a reward, since everyone was doing so well. You couldn’t have been more impressed, really, so when your child brought home a flier for ‘Bring-A-Friend-Day’, you were more than happy to let them go.

The flier had two stickers on it, one for your child and one for the friend they’d bring with them. The back of the flier had all the information you needed.

“Do you want to bring one of the friends from your old school?” You turned the paper over in your hand then looked back up at your kid.

“Yea, I’ll make a list so you know who to call.” They responded matter-of-factly. You snorted.

“Ok, kid. You do that. Why’s it on a Sunday, though?”

They shrugged. You nodded back, unsure as to why you asked the six year old to justify the actions of their school, and turned to your calendar on the fridge to mark the 23rd of October.

That day quickly arrives, and mindlessly, you dropped your child and the friend they’d chosen off at school with their friend before work. You’d assured your friends, the parents of the other child, that yes, BanBan’s Kindergarten was a perfectly good school and completely safe to visit.

So you dropped them off, told them to have fun at the party, and drove home, ready to relax by yourself for the day.

Little did you know, this would be the last evening you would have to relax for a long, long time.

You initially felt something off when you got on the street of the Kindergarten and saw cars lined up on the side of the road.

Did you miss a memo? Were you supposed to show up early? Maybe there was something going on for the parents.

Your unease quickly turns to panic when you drove by the school and police and ambulances came into view. The whole block was illuminated in blue and red, and as you tried to piece together what was going on, you saw a woman sitting in the back of an ambulance sobbing. A blanket was draped around her as a paramedic attempted to calm her down and take her vitals, and a police officer scribbled something on a notepad. Police were walking in and out of the Kindergarten, all stern expressions and sweat. You swerved your car to the left, not caring that you’d just parked in the grass, and you threw it in park as fast as you could.

You rushed out of the car to where the other parents stood in various states of upset.

“Oh my god, what happened?!” You asked as you walked up. A father looked at you with a pained expression.

“They disappeared. There’s no one in the building. They’ve been looking for an hour.” He managed to say before his eyes well with tears, and he became an incomprehensible puddle of tears and apologies.

You slowly turned to the building, eyes wide. Everything seemed to quiet as you realized, this was real, it was really happening - what you’d heard in your true crime podcasts, what you’d watched in movies, it was all real.

A parent’s worst nightmare is real, and it was happening to you.

Over the next few hours, you were drip-fed information by the police like parched animals in the desert. It was torture, and as time went by, the small crowd of parents grew larger and more angry by the minute. The police grew more passive-aggressive, despite being just a crowd of worried parents and concerned passers-by, and they eventually demanded that everyone stay even farther away from the school than you already were.

You wanted to grab those pigs by the collar and shake them. You wanted to scream and cry and cuss them out. You wanted to take one of their weapons and go in there yourself, you wanted to see for yourself that it was real, that your child is missing.

Day became evening and not much more was found.

What you did find out was that that woman you had seen in the ambulance had a daughter named Claire, and had come by to pick her and her friend up early for a birthday party that afternoon. When she had found all the kids gone, dialed 9-1-1 in a panic, and completely broke down when they’d arrived. She was only rambling about notes all over the place… and a bird. Nothing of consequence, of course, since you knew about the Opila statue.

That was all of the information the police would tell you. The crowd began to calm, and your waiting outside the school began to seem like more of a vigil than a group of parents waiting for good news.

The guttural noises the other parents made when they called off the search for the night would never leave you. They told everyone that they needed to go to the station for questioning, and the crowd dispersed not long after. You didn’t remember much of the questioning, only that you had retold everything you knew to the police, then gone home.

The funniest part of it all was that you hadn’t felt much when the police said they couldn’t find anything. It didn’t hurt when your kid’s belongings were returned to you. Not even the silent drive home hurt, though you were far too aware of the empty car seat in the back and the lack of your child’s favorite songs on the radio.

But when you’d gotten home and went to place their items in their bedroom, you see their toys that they had just so recently organized. You saw their books, their little bed, their half-full glass of water they’d left on their nightstand. You saw their empty room, everything they’d left behind, everything they would likely never see again, everything you would never see them use again, and you felt your knees buckle. All you would do was fall against their bed and break down.

You were draped hopelessly across their mattress as tears welled up in your eyes. You gripped their baby blanket tightly like a lifeline, eventually taking it into your hands and holding it against your face.

You inhaled deeply, but when you exhaled, all that came out was a loud, strangled cry.

You tried to take deep breaths (one, two) just like you had taught your kid to do (one, two), but there was nothing you could do now to stop yourself (one, two). They weren’t there to teach anymore (one, two). Not right now, at least. But for all you knew (one, two), they were gone forever.

The next morning you woke up, body stiff from sleeping on the ground across their bed. You checked your phone, and there were no missed calls. You sighed, shaking your head, and stood, slowly standing up from your place on the ground and turning on your child’s bedside lamp.

You draped their baby blanket across your shoulder, shambled to the kitchen and opened the freezer. You decided to make frozen pancakes, their favorite, and put them in the microwave. You ripped a paper towel off the roll while you wait for them to heat up and dab all the tears from your face and snot from your nose, even though you knew there would be more in a minute. The rest of the morning, all you had the energy to do was cry, eat more pancakes, cry more, watch Bluey, call off work, and lay in bed watching movies to distract yourself.

Your phone’s ringer was on, sitting always in view, in case there was someone calling to tell you that, by some miracle, your child had been found.

The entire day came and went with no calls or emails. And then the day turned into a week.

You stopped answering the phone, seeing that you had received phone calls and voicemails from your friends, the parents of the other child that you had let go with yours to the party, begging for you to speak to them, telling you they knew what happened and didn’t blame you. But you blame you. You couldn’t even bear to text them, let alone meet up and talk.

After the first week you returned to work. Your manager asked if you needed more time off, but you retorted that staying at home would be worse than coming in, and that you need to pay rent, so he relented. Though you’re relieved, you were still so, so tired. You felt like a robot, a shell of your former self. You clocked in, scanned things, clocked out, went home, and repeated the cycle. You didn’t talk much those days, and you didn’t want to.

The week turns into a month.

The other people you’re close to had finally found out what happened (they have to wrestle it out of you), and one by one, they came by your place to try and console you, if at least just to keep you company. Christmas came and all the presents felt empty, like foam in a void. It meant little to nothing to you without your child, who should have been there to wake you up early and force you to open presents from Santa with them.

The new year rolled around, then January, and then, about halfway through that month, something in you changed.

Nightmare after nightmare, one sleepless night after another, you felt yourself begin to slip away. You started doing things you wouldn’t typically do. Arriving to work ten minutes late. Spending frivolously. Eating garbage that you had promised yourself you wouldn’t. You spoke less and less, until every time you did, it sounded as if you were gargling marbles.

And then the most abnormal urge came: the compulsion to drive by the Kindergarten. The urge to visit was strong and you gave in to it easily.

You planned ahead of time what you would say to law enforcement when confronted. There were surely police there, or detectives investigating at least. It had only been about three months, it couldn’t have been completely forgotten.

But it was.

You saw it in how the windows were boarded up haphazardly with nails, how the front door was coated in ice, how the sign above the building had fallen to the ground outside, and how the snow in the parking lot was left unshoveled, with no tire tracks or footprints to be seen. It had only been mere months since the incident, but based on how it looked, it could have been a decade since the building was occupied and you would have been none the wiser.

You didn’t live in a great area, but not a terrible one either. The buildings nearby were just average, they didn’t look this old and decrepit… Who could have done this?

Your confusion turned to anger. Abandoned? This building? No, no. There was something there, you just knew it. There had to be something inside that would tell you what happened, some kind of clue to explain all of this. There was no way that everyone had just suddenly disappeared like that. No, you had it in good faith that there was something behind this.

You’d never broken a law in your life. Except for going over the speed limit occasionally, you were a goody-two-shoes and refused to put yourself or your at risk like that. But as far as you could tell, no one would stop you from what you were about to do. And thank god for that.

You went in the evening, when the winter sky had just begun to turn from light to dark gray, and when snow began to obscure the vision of the school from the main road it sat next to. You went with nothing but your phone and all the anger of a parent whose child has gone missing.

When you approached the front entrance, you tucked your hand behind your neck, pulling back your elbow, rage threatening to overwhelm every other sense you had.

You inhaled deeply, preparing for the pain, and pausing for a moment before swinging as hard as you could right into the glass doors. The ice and glass both shattered on impact, and you let out a small hum of satisfaction. This satisfaction quickly soured, however, when the pain finally hit you and your elbow was left throbbing in excruciating pain. It wasn’t bleeding or broken, but it would definitely bruise pretty bad.

The building was teeming with dust. The light from outside illuminated the lobby, and with a pang of sadness, your mind went back to the first time you were here, learning about this place.

If only you had known what would happen. If only you’d felt something off.

… You shook your head dismissively. You weren’t at fault for this - no one knew what would happen, so how could you? You couldn’t let your own hopeless emotions cloud reality, so you pushed onward.

You grabbed a blue keycard off the front desk, though you doubted it would be of any help, and pocketed it. You silently thanked Seline for leaving something helpful behind. (You ignored the fact that you hadn’t seen Seline since long before the children dissapeared. She had likely just quit.)

Upon scanning the rest of the main lobby, there was nothing else of consequence for you to collect. You refused to believe it - there had to be some clues, something of use here. Something to explain why your child had been missing for three months.

You rounded the corner next to the desk and scanned the cafeteria area, but it’s too dark to see. You mentally kicked yourself for not thinking to bring a flashlight - you’d invested in a nice steel one after a particularly bad winter left your child afraid of the dark, and that definitely would have been helpful here. The idea that the power would be off had completely slipped your mind.

You left the entrance of the cafeteria and pushed through the double doors, down the dark hallway to the rest of the Kindergarten. But as soon as you entered, you felt a chill run down your spine. You suddenly felt the piercing gaze of something watching you, and you froze in place, sure that if you continued forward, something would happen.

And then you saw two white pinpricks from deeper in the hallway looking right through you.

There was a moment when all of the breath left your body. Any words you had wanted to say were lost; when you tried to call to whatever was looking at you, only a breathless exhale came out.

Slowly, hesitantly, and against all of your survival instincts screaming for you to stop, you decided to take a step forward and try to get a closer look.

Just as you approached, you saw the pinpricks disappear quickly around the corner. You had to be seeing things. Maybe the grief and being in this unfamiliar place had finally gotten to you. It was probably just dust reflecting off the moonlight behind you.

You pinched your hand, double checking that this wasn’t another nightmare. And so you shook it off, continuing onward and turning into the play area.

A loud click sounded from above you, and then another, and then a few more. You yelped, clamping both hands over your mouth as the lights in the area turn on row by row. The power was working here. Why? If this place was truly abandoned, why?

Something was wrong here. You can feel it. There was something more to this place that you needed to uncover.

Across the room, there was a familiar sight: the Opila bird statue, exactly where it had been, in exactly the pose it had been in. Its glassy, bloodshot eyes stared up at the ceiling, its beak agape, as if hungry, as if waiting greedily to be fed. You felt a chill run down your spine as you imagine if it were real - if this horrifying bird had really come to life. If any bird chased you, you would be scared, but this bird was twice your size and made out of - well, what looked to be - thick rubber. Even if it did attack you, you wouldn’t be able to hurt it, and…

You shook your head. What a stupid scenario. You’d caught yourself dwelling on impossibilities like this a lot lately, possibly due to your head constantly feeling as if it were in the clouds since your child’s disappearance. Or maybe it was just due to how lonely you had become in recent months.

You noticed something in Opila’s mouth. It looked like another keycard - one that went to something on this floor. It was orange this time - you didn’t understand why you would need another key card, or why there were so many levels of security to this school, but just in case, you pocketed it.

You decided not to dwell on the question of how it had gotten there.

“You don’t need this, right?”

You let out a weak huff of laughter after you spoke to the statue, feeling ridiculous. You went to turn and leave, but something caught your eye that you hadn’t noticed before. There was a room to the left of the statue, where boards were nailed into the wall, like someone had made a poor attempt to keep someone out of the area. There was no door, just an empty doorway, and when you walked over, you realized that if this had been here before, you would have definitely noticed. Maybe there was a door here before and it was removed for some reason?

You peered into the room between the gaps of the wood. From what you can see, it looks like a large room with a wide, gaping hole in the center. You couldn’t see the bottom from where you were standing, and you expected that the bottom was far deeper than you wanted to believe. The edge of the small path next to the chasm was all marked up with various digs and scratches, as if something was trying to get out. Or maybe they had just been doing a shoddy job at construction.

As much as you wanted to go into that room, you didn’t think it was worth it. After all, you couldn’t see a lift or another path to cross the pit, so once you got inside, your only options would be to look down into it or to jump in, neither of which you were too keen on doing.

Sighing, you stepped away from the door. When you turned around, you couldn’t help but let out a small gasp. You had forgotten Opila was there. Ugh, stupid bird.

You left the room, a bit uneasy with your newfound discoveries. Your plan was now to look into Dr. Adam’s office and maybe see if there were any pointers to what could have happened, but before that, you realized that there may be something of use on the desk in the classroom.

You quickly walked to the aforementioned room, wasting no time in going through each drawer perhaps a bit too hastily.

The drawers weren’t very well organized.

There were random paper clips and tacks that fell out as you pulled papers and file folders from the drawers. You did end up finding a plane ticket to Madrid for Dr. Mason and Dr. Adam (who, you’d found out, was named Uthman), and some papers from classes, which showed drawings from each child of their favorite characters in the Kindergarten. You shuffled through until you found your child’s, and held back tears as you saw they’d drawn you and them standing with the big green guy. Jumbo Josh? Was that his name? … You could hardly keep track of the main guy, let alone the other characters on the sidelines. But he was your kid’s favorite, and that made you want to remember more. Anything you could recall of your child’s favorite things was a welcome recollection.

You folded up the paper and pocketed it, sighing as you stood and rubbed your eyes.

And then you turned around.

The bird.

Your face flushed as panic punched you in the gut. You swallowed hard, because now you were face-to-face with it. At the entrance of the classroom, Opila stood, unblinking, before taking a couple of steps forward.

Just like before, it stared, but instead of at the ceiling, now it was at you. Like it was studying you. Like you were its next kill. You didn’t know what its intentions were by approaching you this way, but you didn’t want to find out.

Opila took another couple of steps to the side, its head swiveling to continue its piercing gaze right into you. You bit your lip, breaking out into a sweat as you weighed your options. You weren’t the fastest runner, but it looked like your only option was to bolt to Dr. Adam’s office with the orange keycard and hope for the best. Because you weren’t leaving now. Not when you had gotten this far.

You quickly jerked to the left, Opila attempting to follow, and you rushed to the right in a fantastic fake-out that you would surely praise yourself for later. Adrenaline finally kicked in as you rushed past the bird, who followed you quickly to the hallway. You stormed down, scanning your keycard and impatiently shoving through the doors as they opened, manually forcing them shut just as Opila was about to stick its beak through the crack.

You could hear it banging on the door, clawing at the base with its talons. You took a moment to do a once-over of the room, and realized there was nothing you could do. There weren’t even any windows to escape through. You could have almost screamed when you realized that this was it - there was no way out.

You figured, for now, you could hide under the Principal’s desk and maybe trick the bird into thinking that you’d left somehow. At least you could buy some time to mentally prepare for being murdered by a giant pink flesh bird. So you shuffled to your knees and stuffed yourself under the desk, but you were only about halfway in when you noticed a glowing switch on the ground underneath.

Your eyes widened a little. Could this be the answer you had been looking for?

Only one way to find out.

As soon as you pressed the button, there was a rumble, and the struggle at the door immediately stopped. After a couple of seconds, you poked your head out from underneath the desk just in time to see the floor of the other half of the office open up, and a lift emerged from the darkness below.

This is it. This is where your child had gone. You know it; you feel it in your bones.

You boarded the lift eagerly, feeling more awake than you had in months. You didn’t know what awaited you down below, but you were determined to push forward. Not just for yourself and your child, but for the other parents and children, and the teachers that disappeared alongside them.

There was a moment of peace where the lift was lowering and you swam in inky blackness, your only light from the small lamp in the center of the lift. The only sound came from the grinding of the lift echoing throughout the large area you were doing down.

There was a deep rumbling sound from below you, and you froze in place. You had never, not in your whole life heard a sound like that.

What in the world…

Your body was abruptly tossed forward as the lift lurched toward the rumbling sound. An alarm from the lift’s panel cut through the quiet, and you held back a cry as the lift rocked back the other direction, throwing your body against the railing.

The steel collided with your gut, and you gasped for air as the wind was knocked from you. You tumbled to the ground in a heap.

From your place on the ground, you struggled to stand, and just as you managed to do so, you saw a large clubbed hand grab the side of the lift tightly. The glass panels you stood on cracked as another large hand came into view, lifted high into the air.

And then there was a face.

The monster was about four times your size. Its skin was tightly pulled back, flush against its skull, or whatever lay beneath the sickly shade of green. Like the bird you’d seen before, its skin almost looked like rubber when shown against the lift’s fluorescent light. Large risen veins were scattered across its forehead and face, pulsating rhythmically. The skin around its mouth was pulled back into a grotesque smile, revealing a mouth full of teeth that looked as if they’d been jammed into the gums haphazardly, rather than grown. Its eyes were far too small for its head; a shiver ran down your spine at the chilling uncanniness.

There was another low groaning noise, and you realized it was coming from that creature.

Then came a momentary pause, where you looked into the monster’s eyes, and you couldn't breathe. Your heart thudded uneasily in your chest, and the thing rumbled once more, its skin peeling over its eyeballs and back, as if mocking a blink.

You blinked back, and the moment was over. The creature arched its body backwards, falling down from where it had climbed up the lift, and pulling you down with it.

You gasped, too scared to scream, knowing death was quickly approaching, and realizing that you would certainly die without knowing what happened to your child.

You felt the wind against your face as you fell, and then you felt nothing at all.

Chapter Text

Your dreams are filled with the faces of the teachers that failed your child and the monsters you couldn’t comprehend, morphing and blending together, the blood on your hands twisting and spiraling into the cold brown eyes of your child, into the kelly green of the monster that had attacked you, and the dripping, inky black of the elevator shaft as you fall. The screams of missing children echo and give way to the groaning and crashing of an elevator, the warm welcomes of Miss Seline replaying over and over as your months of grief amalgamate into a mounting crescendo, a rising cry, a climax that approaches faster and faster until…

You finally awaken to a splitting migraine. It’s unlike anything you have ever felt - every breath causes you to lurch forward in pain, and you quickly resort to holding your torso as a wave of nausea washes over you.

You blink hard, squinting, as if preparing for the same fluorescents as above, but your eyes adjust nicely to the dim lights coming from the office now miles above you. You are fully convinced the powers-that-be have cast this upon you as a punishment for being so careless with your only child, as if your shame wasn’t punishment enough. As if the dark, numb hole you had cast yourself into wasn’t enough.

And now all there is is pain. Pain, and the monster that had attacked you laying in a crumpled heap next to the broken lift, which has become an unrecognizable scrap of metal. There is no obvious way to get back up, so your only option is to press onward and search for a way to either escape or complete your mission of finding your child. Seeing as the facilities were likely going to be more spacious than you had originally anticipated, it appeared that you would be busy for a while - if it was much larger than this, of course.

You struggle to your feet, promptly groaning as your head spins and almost sends you right back down to the floor. You have to continue. If not for your own preservation, then for your child’s. You stumble forward, right to the door that seemed to be the only escape from the small lift shaft, and press the button next to it with a huff, hearing a satisfying ding before it grinds open, the doors parting for you to enter.

The next area was certainly not what you had expected. It was a large, black cube - a four-sided room with a set of double doors at each wall, a thin metal catwalk being the only thing connecting them. The metal the catwalk was constructed of suggested that it was made cheaply and quickly, that it was made more out of necessity rather than for what was originally planned. The floodlights above you were enough to make everything just bright enough to see the detail, but despite there being any light at all, you couldn’t tell where the source was actually coming from. It was as if the ceiling was endless; as if it did not exist.

There was a mysterious, inky darkness lapping at every crevice of what little there was. It almost looked as if the darkness was alive, and, if you dove any further into conspiracy, perhaps it was.

A few feet in front of you, a small control pad protrudes from the ground. There’s a note on it, scrawled all over in messy handwriting and signed an illegible name at the bottom.

The mystery grew deeper, yet somehow your original mission overpowered any curiosity about the circumstances surrounding their disappearance. Maybe it was stupid to plunge headfirst into a situation you knew nothing about, not even caring enough to turn back when faced with likely death. The author was complicit in your loss. They could be lying - or worse, trying to get you to leave to save their own skin. You scoff quietly, thinking vague thoughts about karma and payback. You feel no sympathy for whoever wrote the note, no matter how desperate they seemed. No remorse, no apologies, just self-pity and a vague warning. You would spit on the note in lieu of a grave if you were sure the writer had died.

A gate separates you from the rest of the catwalk, and instinctively, you walk forward and scanned the keycard that was still in your pocket. A gentle ding chimes from above you, and the gate creaks open gently to allow your passage.

You walk forward, finally regaining your sense of balance, and take one last look behind you into the room you’d come from. You’re slightly dismayed to see that, somehow, the monster was gone. Your lips form a tight line, a chill running down your spine as you swallow thickly. You couldn’t let fear control you now. You’ve come so far, and you feel so close to finding what you’ve been searching for.

Scanning the room once more, you see that the doors on each wall are labeled according to what sector of the facility they lead to. From left to right, they read: ’Communications Sector’, ’Outer Sector’, and ’Medical Sector’. It seemed simple enough, and from that, you felt the best course of action would be to go to the Communications Sector. Maybe you could make contact with someone and have the police come down to take a look at things. At best, you could get law enforcement to take a look at the place. At worst, you would have to follow your original plan and continue searching for answers yourself. No matter the case, you would be getting the answers you’ve been wanting. Nothing would stand in your way.

The doors to the Communications Sector open easily; the entrance to The Hub (what you had arbitrarily decided to call the main catwalk area) seems to be on a manual system, where the user has to press a button and announce their presence, and all the doors that came after were on an automatic, perhaps motion detection system for easy entrance and exit. A rig like that would surely be cost-efficient and easy to set up, going along with the cheap metal grating of the catwalks. It allowed for easy tracking of who was entering and exiting the facilities, how many people, and the time they spent in each area. The people running this, then, were likely American capitalists - though that wasn’t the impression you had gotten from the Kindergarten once you had entered. But it was certainly viewed by the owners as some kind of business venture rather than a learning institution. The cheap, minimalist look of the school aboveground suddenly makes sense to you - the way the electrical outlets were painted over, the plasticky, stick-on hardwood flooring, the poorly made mass-produced furniture that always seemed to leave screws strewn about the floors…

The first thing you were surprised by upon entering the Communications Sector was the fluorescent lighting. You weren’t aware that the place still had power. The second thing you were surprised by was the amount of empty space in the room - like they had begun decorating it to make it seem sleek and modern, but were stopped halfway through.

Other than that, it was essentially the same as it was upstairs. White walls with low-quality furniture, but this time the room was U-shaped; on one side, a few doors and a plain rug, and in the center, there was a curved wall that rounded about halfway into the room. It was likely just a closet, but added to make the room more visually interesting. A large version of the kindergarten’s logo is pasted on that curved wall, and as it met the other side, a mural of each of the mascots took up the entire flat vertice to the corner. In front of that wall, on the right side of the room, two rows of cubicles that couldn’t have been bigger than two feet by two feet were separated by small dividers, sitting in the center of the area like someone would be walking around, always over the worker’s shoulders watching their every move.

You weren’t stupid, you had worked an office job very briefly after you’d dropped out of college. They would track everything you did - if you even dared take a break for water, your manager would be down at a moment’s notice to reprimand you for mucking about on company time. You knew what kind of workplace this was, and if the care put into the construction of the establishment didn’t tell you everything you needed to know, then this simple workspace certainly did.

As you run a finger along the top of one of the cubicles, studying your finger and the odd lack of dust across every surface, a soft jingle envelops the room, reverberating off the walls. You jump in surprise, not realizing just how quiet it had been, and look wildly around the room, immediately holding your head as it throbbed angrily at the movement. A gentle voice follows, as if the jingle were meant to play preceding an announcement.

“Hey, you there! I can see you on the cameras, can you hear me?”

You look around, taking care to not move your head in a way that would cause more pain, and spot a camera. Of course there would be cameras in this room - the office job you had had was the same way, so you should have expected as much. What you hadn’t expected was to hear the voice of someone else in this seemingly abandoned place.

You have no idea if the person over the P.A. could hear you, so rather than verbally responding (which you don’t believe you could do even if you wanted to; your head hurts too badly), you give a cautious wave to the camera. You hear a sigh from the person over the P.A.

“Oh, thank god, I’m so happy to see you. I thought I was a goner. Listen, I need your help, a few hours ago I walked into that security office on the other side of the room you’re in and the door closed behind me. I need a specific keycard to open it, don’t suppose you have it, do you?”

You rifle through your pockets for a moment before feeling your card and holding it up to the camera, tilting your head a bit as if to ask is this it?

“No, the one I need is level two security clearance. That’s light blue, and you have dark blue, which is level one. You think you could make a short trip to get it for me?”

The first instinct you have is to shake your head. How dare this person, most likely an employee of this place, ask you to do something for them? After all they had helped put you through? After they had lost your child? But then the second instinct comes, which is far more forgiving, more parental, and sympathetic to the person asking for assistance, and the instinct tells you to press further, to make him tell you what he knows before you help. You dramatically shrug at the camera and cross your arms, eying the camera questioningly.

“Come on… Fine, ok, I know why you’re here. You’re looking for someone. I can help you, just please get me out first.”

After a moment of glaring at the camera with intense suspicion, you finally nod, making whoever was on the other end of the speaker let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you! You won’t regret this. You’ll have to take the door to your right to get to the maintenance department. The employees used to keep the spare keycards in the break room, so you can grab one from there. I’ll unlock the door for you in just a second, ok?”

“Light blue keycard from the maintenance break room. Okay.” You mumbled to yourself to remember, and gave the camera a thumbs up, after which there was a clicking noise from the door your new acquaintance had mentioned. You walk over and open it. You have to push a bit, as the door was heavier than you had originally thought, but you make it through after a grunt and some momentum, and then you’re in the maintenance department.

In front of you was a dim, sprawling garage with rows upon rows of steel shelves, stacked all the way up to the ceiling. It couldn’t have been less than forty feet high. Despite the storage being extensive, the shelves were completely empty, looking as if it served as more of a maze than a maintenance room. And so far, from what you’ve gleaned, you wouldn’t put it past the people running the place to do something like this just to torture their workers. There was no way you could drive a forklift through this without taking half an hour to take the sharp turns.

A collection of four documents taped haphazardly to the wall detailed general rules and regulations for the job site (CCOHS regulations and other legal drivel) but one certain paper caught your eye - most jobs had the same graphics and PDFs taped up for staff to see, but there was one paper with rules that you didn’t recognize. It looked as if it were made in a new Word document in two minutes.

REMINDER TO ALL MAINTENANCE EMPLOYEES.

Work in groups no smaller than four. If you must split up for a job, groups of two are permitted, but limit the time you are in those smaller teams.

Everyone has been issued a military-grade flashlight, made in America. It is the most powerful on the market. Keep them hooked to your belts at all times - we spent a good deal on these by your request and can’t afford to lose any.

If you encounter any threats to your livelihoods (which are neither proven nor known by our organization), create as much noise as you can until it leaves you alone or until help arrives for you and your group.

Please follow all of these rules accordingly. We cannot afford to lose any more men since the last incident. If for any reason you take issue with the guidelines above, please speak with your supervisor for further insight.

You wrinkle your nose at the ominous message, but as there seems to be no way but forward, begin to work your way through the room anyway, following the wavy shape of the path and weaving your way through each aisle.

Something feels wrong, however, and you can’t help but feel your hair stand on end; you can’t shake the feeling that something is watching you. Something or someone…

But then you reach the end of the room, and the feeling goes away as quickly as it had come.

There were a set of double doors in front of you labeled Break Room, and cautiously, you entered, surprised that the doors weren’t locked. As you enter, you realize that this room was definitely not intended to be a break room, but rather, a cleaning closet of some kind. On one side, large unused wall graphics are rolled up and placed into clear plastic bins, and on the other side, two square tables and two plastic chairs. You sighed; at this point you shouldn’t even be surprised anymore, you could practically feel the Canadian Labor Code violations in the air around you, the employee malcontentment eating away at your very being.

Not just the labor code violations - laws were certainly being broken here. If not because of the disappearance of an entire school of children, but because of the privacy violations, and not just that, but because of the… well… everything else.

No matter. The light blue keycards were neatly stacked in a small cardboard box on the closest table to you, bound together by a rubber band. You gladly snatched two for you and the person you were helping, whoever they were. The keycards were pristine, the shiny plastic not disturbed by even a fingerprint. It was almost like they had just opened this box before the shit hit the fan. You grit your teeth thinking about the people that worked down here day-to-day. Where did they live, down here? You never saw anyone other than the typical staff coming and going from the kindergarten grounds. They knew exactly what they were getting into, and still decided to continue working here after everything they had seen. The gall. It made you sick to your stomach. Even the manual laborers were complicit.

You turn to leave, ready to be done with the room forever, but something caught your eye in the collection of clear plastic bins.

Your kid had drawn enough of those sloppy mascot characters for you to know every single one of them: BanBan (a red, humanoid creature with party hats for ears), BanBalina (a pure white, female counterpart of BanBan with a pink bow), Jumbo Josh (the green one that was your child’s favorite), Stinger Flynn (an orange jellyfish), Opila Bird (the pink nightmare bird that had chased you into this mess), and Captain Fiddles (a short, purple, troll-like monster). You knew them all. That was every single one you had seen over months of schooling with this kindergarten. Countless fliers, cards, and party invitations had made sure you had committed all of them to memory - even seeing the colors of each one was enough to remind you of the school. And not a single one of them had ever been blue.

So why did you see a blue character, printed into a graphic and placed neatly in the bin as if it belonged?

Slowly, you take a step forward and pull it out, unrolling the plastic as if it might come alive if you make a wrong move.

It was unlike the other characters, that was for sure. With a round body taken up almost entirely by a large, gaping, fanged mouth, three beady eyeballs, and four thin, pointed legs, it almost reminded you of a bug or something. It wore a party hat in various shades of gray, and a speech bubble attached to the graphic read ’Boo!’

You scrunch your eyebrows. What a weird thing to put in a kindergarten. That was likely why you hadn’t seen this character around at all on the floors above - he may have been appealing to children, hell, even Jumbo Josh was really towing the line there, but other parents would have surely complained about a creepy character in their children’s school.

You roll up the graphic tightly and place it back in the boxes. You don’t want to disturb the place more than you had to on the off chance that law enforcement returns for evidence. That, and the idea of taking anything from this place other than your child makes you want to hurl. You exit the breakroom, a bit unsettled by your new discovery. You would have to ask the person you were helping when you got them out. Maybe they could help you with this conundrum if they truly did know what’s going on.

Something wet suddenly drips from above you, hitting you square in the face. You make a small, surprised noise, spewing out the little bit of the substance that had gotten on your lips.

You wipe your mouth with your sleeve, fighting the urge to curse under your breath. You gently touch the substance with your fingers and pull them away, pulling it apart with your fingers as you take note of the fact, despite being clear, it was not water, no, it was more viscous than that. You hesitantly smell it, immediately pulling away at the foul odor.

“Ugh! What is this?” You squeak and wipe the substance off of your fingers onto the front of your shirt. It couldn’t be water, it couldn’t be glue since it wasn’t sticky enough, which only left…

Hissing comes from above you.

Your eyes widen. Your pupils become pinpricks despite the dim lighting of the room. Your hair stands on end as a chill crawls up your spine when you realize the noise was coming from just above you.

The hissing continues, growing louder the longer you stay frozen in place, like there was a predator above you waiting to pounce on its prey. You.

You figure out what the substance is.

Slowly, you turn around and look above you, bracing for what would come next.

It was saliva.

The blue monster that you had seen on the graphic was real, and it was above you, squinting its three golfball eyes at you and hissing softly.

You don’t stay still for a moment longer. You immediately break into a sprint and run back through the steel maze, hearing the thudding of its dactyls scampering quickly along the ceiling above you as the creature follows close behind. Each turn you take is sharp and quick, almost making you fall a few times, but you recover quickly, your heart thumping wildly in your chest.

You finally skid to a halt right inside the Communications Room. The door closes behind you, indicating that whoever was on the cameras was keeping a lookout. Thank god.

Sweat drips from your forehead as you pant, crouched over with your hands on your knees.

“What–” You huff, “-- what was that thing?!”

There’s no response from the other person. You immediately quiet your breaths, standing up straight and looking at the cameras, confused.

“Hey, I never got your name but, uh, I got your keycard.” You take it out of your pocket and wave it at the camera. There was still no response. You walk to the security room slowly, scanning the key card as you eye down the door.

Gently, you grab the handle with your free hand and open the door.

There’s no one inside.

In fact, there’s almost nothing inside other than a chair, a desk, and a single computer monitor that’s unplugged. There’s also a note on the desk, with clean, neat handwriting done in pen. You grab it and read it.

Read this very quickly!
I plan to sneak up on you and hit you very hard while you are occupied with reading this note. :)
Nothing personal, I can explain everything to you later.

As you go to shout an expletive that you had sworn off of years ago, something indeed does hit you very hard. Right on the back of your head. You immediately fall to the ground in a heap, a high-pitched ringing noise screeching in your ears. You groan, writhing as the migraine that you had just gotten rid of comes back worse than ever. If you didn’t have some head trauma before, you surely have it now. There's a small hum from behind you that you recognize as the person over the P.A. Their voice is muffled, but you can still vaguely understand the general direction they were in. You try to roll over, attempting to get a good look at your assailant.

“Look at that. I don’t have to deal with the spider, you don’t have to deal with me, and I can take that keycard off your hands! Three birds with one stone! ”

Finally turning over to your other side, you can make out a blurry red blob through the dark spots dancing in your vision. Confusion interlaces with rage and betrayal, a sickly anger building in your gut towards your attacker.

“Hey, I’m sorry for making you do the heavy lifting here, buddy. Maybe I can explain everything to you someday. If we get out of this, of course.”

You try to respond, but all that comes out is a puff of air and a moan of pain.

“Oh, come on. Don’t make me feel any worse than I already do. I didn’t even hit you that hard.” The blob crouches down to the ground, leaning in close to you and studying your face. Finally, the blob comes into focus and you recognize it as the mascot and namesake of the kindergarten, Banban. If your head weren’t on fire and if you weren’t on the brink of passing out, you would definitely be saying some choice words.

After a moment, Banban pulls away. He props his elbow on his knee and tilts his head, looking concerned.

“Or… or maybe I did? I’m probably not supposed to let you fall asleep like this but it might be for the best while I get everything ready. You’re gonna be fine.”

You go to protest, but the strangest sense of calm and safety washes over you, overpowering every urge you have to fight back and stay awake. Against all of your instincts, you close your eyes, once again succumbing to a head wound at the hands of your child’s kindergarten.

–

When you wake up, you’re on a stretcher, your head surprisingly free of the pain you had passed out with. You sit up slowly, the movement alerting you to something on the back of your head. You gently press your hand behind your head and feel gauze, with a cold compress underneath. There’s a question then, of who did this? Could it have been Banban? Could it have been that, despite hitting you and knocking you out, he did treat your injuries?

You try to stand and notice that, along with the bandages on your head, there’s band-aids on your knees and elbows, and the bruises that you could feel on various parts of your body were not so much welts anymore, as much as they were just dark, painless splotches. You hadn’t really looked, but you were sure the side you had fallen on in the lift crash was in rough shape.

Finally, you decide to take in your surroundings and look around for a way to get back to where you had been. Based on your surroundings, you were no longer in the communications sector. The walls were painted in a green and orange gradient, with white trees patterned along the wall of the hall you were down. Your stretcher was placed at the end of the hallway, in front of a set of broken double doors, with a pitch darkness behind them that could only lead you to assume there was a sheer drop into the abyss beyond. You stand, stretching your stiff joints to prepare for your journey to continue. The floor is rubbery and almost soft, like the indoor play areas you would let your child play inside before they’d started school.

So far, this certainly wasn’t what you had expected. The reality of everything surely hadn’t sunk in yet, as you were sure that if you were anyone else, you would already be losing your mind. The very idea of a large facility below a kindergarten of all places was ludicrous - insane, even. But it was here. And it was so unbelievable that you couldn’t even react, it just wouldn’t register in your head.

You wouldn’t even try to understand the things you had encountered since taking the lift. The green monster, the Jumbo Josh one… the spider, the bird… why were they attacking you? Why were they so hostile? A new goal was placed now, solidly in your mind, and you wouldn’t be swayed from your path. You wanted to not only find your child, but also figure out what in the hell happened in Banban’s Kindergarten.

You walk down the hall and discover that you’re in what appears to be a hospital ward. You look up and down the area and see on one side, there’s a large teal painting, and on the other side, a desk with some kind of body laying across it.

Despite being curious about the painting, you decide to take the right and approach the desk. Maybe whoever it was was okay…?

They were not okay. In fact, they weren’t even human. You gently pressed a hand to their back and pulled it away, shocked by the texture of their forest green skin. It was rough, almost like stone or sandpaper, and cold to the touch. The being was most certainly deceased. And, judging by the looks of this level, it had been for a while. You walk around to the other side of the desk, hoping to get a better look at the thing. It was definitely another mascot. You try to remember the guy’s name. Captain Fidget? Fibbles? Fiddle? Something like that. Fiddles! That’s what it was. Except instead of periwinkle like the graphics typically depicted him as, he was a dark green.

Looking down the hall, you spotted another fiddles on the ground, also deceased. This one was yellow. You shiver. What caused them to die like this?

Walking around, you poke your head into different offices and rooms throughout the halls until you reach the other side. Desks are stacked up so high you couldn’t pass, and you sigh, now realizing you had to walk all the way back around. You turn around and notice a door that you hadn’t noticed before. You hesitantly approach it, pushing it open and stepping inside.

It looks like a science lab rather than a hospital room. There are several empty stretchers scattered unevenly throughout the room, except for one in the corner occupied by a lime green Fiddles corpse. To the right is a large desk with a round glass tank on top, filled about a quarter of the way with a dark teal substance you don’t recognize. You walk over and tap the glass. The substance gently wiggles, almost like the wet slime you had made with your child a couple of times. Light reflects off the surface and you can clearly see a thin layer of dust buildup on top of the liquid. You wrinkle your nose in disgust. What the hell?

There's a paper on the table just a few inches away with a bunch of equations in small, neat handwriting, almost looking as if it were printed. The math, you couldn’t even begin trying to solve - too many letters in math made you nervous - but the graphics on the paper told you everything you needed to know. There was a small syringe icon with seven of the Captain Fiddles characters in the same colors as the dead ones scattered around the area, and an arrow pointed to a small rectangle you can only assume is the glass tank in front of you.

It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Extract blood from the corpses and put it in the tank. You didn’t know exactly what would happen if you did this, but maybe it would uncover a secret about the monsters around you. So you grabbed a syringe from the table and got to work.

You were nervous that, despite how large the needle of the syringe in your hand was, that it wouldn’t pierce the skin of the Fiddles. It was orange, and given your limited medical knowledge, it was likely just a simple fifteen gauge. That size was usually used to draw up medication, and not meant for injections on humans; but the leathery skin and dense flesh of the creature’s body made the size of the needle understandable. You push the needle into the corpse’s flesh at a forty-five degree angle, recalling the time a few years prior from when you had become so sick you had been prescribed steroids for a month. You wince. You never liked needles (who does, really?), and even the sight of the needle going into the skin of a non-human corpse was enough to make your stomach churn. Regardless, you continued anyway, desperate for even the smallest piece of the puzzle, some kind of control over your extenuating circumstances.

You’re more than a little shocked when, what you expected to be red blood, comes out as blue-green instead. It looks exactly like the substance in the glass, and you suddenly realize that this was the same substance you’d seen all over the ground in the lift crash.

It’s blood.

Trying not to gag at this revelation, you reluctantly draw up the syringe as full as it could go and pull the syringe out, the skin of the creature staying firmly in place as you remove the needle. There is a sickening puff of air as the needle separates from flesh. You walk back over to the container and stick the needle in through a small hole in the lid, pushing down the plunger and emptying it all inside. A small ding! comes from nearby, and you see a screen with numbers on it above a closet door increase as you finish emptying it out.

The more “blood” you take from the creatures, the higher the number. It seemed that the container was rigged to unlock the door if a certain amount of the liquid was collected. Immediately, you walk back over to the corpse and stick the needle in to collect more, but become dismayed when nothing comes out when you draw up the plunger. You would just have to go between each Fiddles corpse and collect one syringe each, as it seemed that was all that was left in the bodies.

You begin roaming around, collecting the blood. Each corpse contains the exact amount of the substance that you need, and slowly, the tank begins to fill up to just below the fill line. But right when you think you have enough, you run out of bodies.

With a huff, you begin brainstorming how to fill up the rest of the tank. You could use spit, or, if it came down to it, blood. Which was something you definitely didn’t want to do - for one, you didn’t have a clean needle, and who knew what kind of germs and disease was on it after so many bodies, and two, you didn’t want to have to use the giant needle on yourself if you could avoid it. After a moment, you decided that despite all of your hard work, you didn’t need to know whatever was in the closet that badly after all. Instead of continuing to work on a fruitless endeavor, you instead decide to see what the solid teal painting at the end of the hall was. It was an odd placement for it, right in the middle of everything like that.

You approach the painting, furrowing your eyebrows. The texture was similar to that of the leather roughness of the Fiddles corpses and looked like an exact copy of it - like a graft of skin had been taken, placed on a canvas, and painted over. You reach out, thinking that, for some reason, maybe touching it would reveal a missing piece to the puzzle.

Instead, a booming groan rumbles through the floor, the ground trembling as the painting begins to twist and writhe, the center opening up to reveal a large eyeball. The door next to the painting comes flying off, hitting the wall parallel to it with a slam. A thick, fingerless arm comes bursting out, the nubs of the hand wiggling as it begins to feel around for you.

You fall to the ground, scooting backwards as you register what had just happened. You clench your teeth. This wasn’t the first time something in this facility had come out of nowhere to scare you, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. You figured it was best to get used to it as quickly as possible, but clearly, from your current reaction, you wouldn’t be doing that anytime soon.

You stand and brush yourself off as the teal arm begins to hit the wall out of frustration. You cover your ears - the booming noise is slowly but surely making your migraine come back. You have to think of something and fast or else you are sure your head will explode.

And then you see a chair in the corner. An idea comes to mind.

You laugh to yourself quietly as you go to pick it up. This was going to be the funniest thing that you’ve done in months.

You hoist the chair up by the base of its legs, wind back, and throw the chair right at the creature’s eyeball. The window (you realize now that it was a window) is big enough to where the plastic chair fits through it easily, and hits the monster right in the eyebrow.

Another groan, louder and more furious this time, shakes the ground and causes you to fall with a thud onto your back.

And then, the noise grows more distant. It gets farther and farther away until the only noise is your labored breathing and the hum of the fluorescent lights above you. You blink, finally letting go of a shuddering breath you didn’t know you were holding. Scanning where its arm had been blocking your path, you can see a small trail of the substance you were looking for on the ground. How convenient.

You pick the syringe up from where you had dropped it and draw up what you could from the ground. It’s full of bubbles, making you cringe, but you suck it up and walk back to the laboratory area with the tank. Despite only having a small amount of the substance, you put it back into the tank, and seeing it fill the rest of the way satisfies you in a way you don’t really understand. A small ding! rings from above you and the closet door nearby clicks open. You happily waltz over and swing the door open, only for your expression to fall as the contents inside are revealed to be… not what you wanted.

Various supplies are stuffed into each shelf. You can only imagine that the doctors or scientists or whoever worked on this floor had their own organized chaos to it. Your kids’ teachers were the same way. In a repulsive sort of way, it showed that all parts of the kindergarten really weren’t that different after all, and were, in fact, part of a much bigger group that your child was only a small part of. You suppress the urge to dry heave at this realization and instead begin to shuffle through the contents of the closet, hoping to find perhaps a weapon or a key of some kind.

Eventually, you find both of the things you’re looking for. You pocket a small scalpel and a teal key card to an elevator on your same floor, in a stack with other cards like it held together by rubber bands. There’s some papers and notes that fall to the floor, but seeing as the place was abandoned, you leave them, not caring enough to clean them up.

The lift is much like the one from before. The cheap metal creaks as you walk on, and when you press the button, the machine groans, its small motor sputtering to life as it attempts to hoist your body weight up to the main floor. You look up and see how long the wait will be, and seeing how far up the next floor is combined with the fact the lift is moving at a snail’s pace, you decide to rest for a while. You sit on the floor of the lift and sigh.

This investigation may take longer than you thought it would.

Chapter Text

As you exit the Medical Sector, you scan the Hub and notice a large, towering creature that had not been there before. You jump a bit in surprise, backing up a few steps to completely take in its enormity. Its neck stretched far down into the chasm below, and if there was a body, it was not visible in the slightest. Attached to the neck was a large head, taking up your entire vision - its mouth laid agape in a horrific, deformed smile, solid darkness being where its teeth and throat should be easily visible. Its eyes are large voids, as if they had been gouged out.

You feel soft whispering flow into your ears as a wave of calm overtakes you.

"Lo siento..."

As quickly as the voice arrives, enveloping you in a warm, gentle embrace, it fades into the cavernous room around you, absorbed greedily by the air. Once again, this facility has taken comfort from you, consuming the voice so easily, as if it already belonged to the facility in the first place. Where did the creatures begin and the facility end? Were they a part of it? You could feel the creature in front of you living, breathing, feel the wind from its labored breathing hit your face. And you could feel the facility living, breathing, feel the inhale and exhale of its lungs in the air around you. Your eyes sting with tears as you stare into the eyes of the giant before you. Deep in the endless sockets you can see your life flash before you, every trial and success paling in comparison to the eternity of this grandiose, soul-bearing edifice.

Your heart thrums, its heart pounds. You float, it holds you gently in the air and whispers once again.

Lo siento.

You feel as though you’re beginning to understand. Two words that meant little are now everything. Lo siento.

I am sorry. Lo sentimos. We are sorry. We are sorry for everything we have done to you. We are sorry for stealing your life. Please allow us to make it up to you. Your life will be ours; you will become a part of our entirety. You will become us, and we will be better for it, and you will reunite with your child, helping us all learn, grow as they were never able to. Lo sentimos. Por favor, acepte nuestras disculpas. Lo sentimos.

The catwalk creaks beneath you. You’ve become enthralled by the creature, and suddenly realizing this, you snap out of it, breaking away your gaze and wiping your face of tears. You barely even noticed yourself crying.

You shake your head, regaining your sense of self. Your hands tremble, and you wring them together in a weak attempt to calm your nerves and ground yourself. You finally recall why you’re here. Your child. You need to find your child; they need you. This facility is not a part of you, and you will not be a part of it. It took your world away from you. How dare it try to seduce you into embracing it, into seeing it as a being worthy of even a single pitiful glance. You turn from the creature that stole your vision from far too long. It didn’t deserve to be witnessed, not anymore.

There are only two directions to continue in, so against your better judgment and your fear of the creature in front of you, you head back to the Communications Sector in hopes to find both Banban, and some answers.

As you enter the Communications Sector once again, you watch the door close behind you, turning around just in time to see the large entity outside disappear into the darkness below. A shiver runs down your spine.

Back in the Communications Sector you take a look around, peeking around every corner to see if Banban has stuck around long enough for you to have made your return. You peek into the lobby, into the security office, and then look into the maintenance area, but of course, find nothing.

Of course! Of course he ran like a coward after taking you by surprise. You silently seethe, clenching your jaw tightly in a weak attempt to keep control of your anger.

The only thing you can think of doing is using your newly acquired keycard to get into the office he had clearly been hiding in, and see if he left behind any clues as to what was going on. When you enter the office and scan the room, you see two large whiteboards on either wall, with hand-drawn graphics showing detailed color-coded anatomy of both Banban and the spider creature that had been hunting you in the maintenance room. Their rubbery skin is shown to be thick, as if it were a tough exoskeleton, while their insides were more human-like and held inside tightly by that exterior. The idea of the creatures having no skeleton and instead the equivalent of a tire tread to hold their organs in place made you squirm in discomfort.

On the other white board, there’s a chart with different names of each of the mascots in three different categories. The first category is ’Ready For Presentation’, and under it are listed all of the familiar mascots from the kindergarten. All except for Jumbo Josh, who is listed alone under the next category, ’Continued Testing’. The final one, ’Suspend Testing Indefinitely’ lists three names that you’re unfamiliar with: Slow Seline, Sheriff Toadster, and Nabnab. Logically, you come to the conclusion that, if the creature that had chased you was one of these, you would have to settle on calling it Nabnab as none of the others made any sense with what the entity looked like.

Your opinion of the organization you’ve stumbled upon only grows worse as you delve deeper into this winding story.

You see unused monitors lining a desk on one side of the room, and on the other, another desk on its own with a single computer that’s, surprisingly, turned on. An email inbox is pulled up, looking as if they had opened it and left, whether it be simply because they left the room or because they didn’t care. Either way, you decide to look into it farther, sitting in front of the monitor and grabbing the mouse.

There are three emails marked as important that catch your eye. The subjects all pertain to so-called ‘cases’ and how it affects the person who was logged into this account. You can only assume it belongs to Banban somehow. He was the last one in this room, therefore would have been the one to leave their email up last. He likely left it on because he didn’t think someone would be around to snoop. But by now you’re a master class at snooping - that should be more than obvious - so you go ahead and do just that.

The first email is the oldest.

‘>> To: Dr. Uthman Adam, M.D. and One (1) Other

Dr. Adam,

I hope you are having a pleasant week. I am writing to you in regards to the objection you presented upon our recent decision to reduce your current number of cases from ten to six. We have decided that we will not be honoring your request at this time, with the reasoning being an unfortunate lack of resources.

There is no ill will on my part. As you know, I have always respected your work, but we have already wasted enough resources on cases, with only very slow progress to show for it. Case twelve and the other cases accompanying it were especially costly. We have only had one case out of the ten become presentable after nine months of testing, so understand where we come from when we say that we will not be reconsidering under any circumstances. Our shareholders are becoming extremely impatient with our slow progress, and we will not be losing funding on your behalf.

I understand that this is not the news you wanted to hear, but Givanium does not grow on trees, Uthman. The facilities farther down need more than we have, and as things stand, you are not in any place to be asking for more than you already have. Ration your share carefully. If you have more presentable cases before Bring-A-Friend Day, we may take your requests into consideration in the future.’

The second email appeared to be a forwarded response to the first, with the original sender taken off of the original. Whoever was sending these was certainly attempting to be discreet.

‘ FWD >> To: Dr. Uthman Adam, M.D.

Uthman,

I know you saw the email. Listen, I’m just as upset as you are, but we can turn this all back around if we ration our share of Gv carefully and follow protocol to the letter.

In my personal opinion, we should drop the spider, the toad, and the snail.

The spider gives me the creeps. It might not scare the children, in fact, I know several kids will find him very cool, but the parents won’t find him cool. We will get complaints, and that’s not something we need on top of everything else going on. We should drop him.

The toad’s only purpose is to catch criminals. I know a lot of kids like police officers, but knowing the current aggressive behaviors of the toad and how children are bound to act, there’s no telling what could happen. They break the rules, but the toad could break them worse. We can drop him too.

I was torn between the snail and the gorilla for the last one. The gorilla will be the favorite of many boys. I personally like the snail more, but I doubt it will be any child’s favorite, so let’s drop the snail and keep the gorilla.

We can come back to these three again if things ever change and we have more space available for new cases, but in the meantime, come talk to me when you can. I have something important for us to discuss.

And cheer up! Things will be fine.

Wev’

Though confused, you feel an odd familiarity reading the people included on the emails. You feel as though you’ve heard the name ‘Wev’ used before. Though… you find you’re having trouble recalling from where. It was likely due to the head trauma you were quite prone to recently. You take mental note of the name for future reference.

You continue reading, steeling your resolve as you scroll down once more.

‘ >> To: Dr. Uthman Adam, M.D. & CC: One (1) Other

Dr. Adam,

I don’t know who to contact about this, but as you are the one who hired me, I figure you’re my best bet.

To put it bluntly: Things are looking very, very bad. I did what you requested and went in to check the ball pit, and I can safely say that it’s a miracle the bottom hasn’t caved in yet. The weight limit listed outside of the pit is more than triple what it can actually hold. You’ve met me, I’m a skinny guy, but the thing could barely hold me and my partner. I don’t know how the kids in the kindergarten can be supported by it. Bring-A-Friend Day is tomorrow. You need to block this thing off NOW.

I’m trying to be professional but I can’t stress how bad this could be. If you don’t respond by tonight, I will be contacting the authorities. I’m barely getting by in this economy and if my company gets a lawsuit because of your negligence, I’ll lose everything.

Hope to hear from you, sir. Good night.

Reply from >> Dr. Uthman Adam, M.D.

Good evening,

I have received your message and am taking it very seriously. I don’t think I have to explain how much I care about these children, and as for your company, your maintenance work has been more than satisfactory, and I would hate to see anything bad happen to you or your employees. Rest assured that I will certainly not be using the ball pit tomorrow, no matter how angry the parents and students become.

Feel free to email me again with any more updates. We shouldn’t need you for a while after this - you will receive a check in the mail compensating you for the time you’ve worked for us this past week, plus a little extra, as a gift for all the stress we have put you under.

Thank you for all of your hard work!

Dr. Uthman Adam

… Fwd >> Ms. Weverly Mason. Remove One (1) Recipient >> Dr. Uthman Adam included the following message:

Read this, Wev. Something bad is going to happen, this is getting very serious very quickly. We need to be as far away from this place as we can when the shit really hits. You know we’ve been on the wrong side of the wrong people for a long time, and if we’re both here tomorrow, it’ll spell the end for both of us. If not at the hands of our failed projects, then at the hands of our superiors.

If we bring attention to this, we’ll both be taking a dive into the abyss. We need to lay low. Pack some stuff and meet me here tomorrow morning. I promise we’re going to be okay.

Stay safe.

Uthman’

You lean back in your seat, awestruck. Now you know what happened, and as much as it breaks your heart, you feel as if you are past the point of being able to feel simple sadness or anger. You feel none of it anymore motivated to pursue the ending your child and all of the other children deserve. This horrible company has inflicted enough harm, and these emails would be your evidence that would bring karma to all those involved. You make sure the printer nearby is full of ink and quickly print the three emails, folding them tightly and pocketing them.

This would be your insurance. This would be your justice.

Now you have to press on. Fueled by spite and adrenaline, you march on to the Testing Sector. There was far more to see, you’re sure.

The inside of the Testing Sector is a long, green hallway with a bright wave of color lining one end of the hall to the other. There are three doors on each side of the hall and one on the end. If your sci-fi shows had ever taught you anything, it was that the single room would be important. You make your way down to it, undeterred by the odd silence the hallway presented.

Your boots squeak with every step you take on the soft rubber flooring, the only sound in this abandoned, desolate place. Though you could try your keycard on every door, the one at the end of the hall looks the most promising. You make your way down, only sparing momentary glances through the door’s small windows. You wonder what this area could be for? Did your child ever see this area? You thought they told you everything, you’d think they would have said something if they’d gone into an underground classroom of some kind. What was the point, then? What was the point of all of this unused real estate, an area clearly built for children?

When you reach the end of the hall, you try your key cards, and to your surprise, a soft ding confirms that you’d earned entry into the room. The doors gently glide open, revealing the room, a pitch black cavern, all apart from two glowing eyes in the far corner.

Immediately alarms go off in your head and you take a step back. The eyes grow a bit closer. You take another step back, now fully in the hallway, and the thing hiding in the darkness suddenly lets out a loud, ear-piercing screech. You cover your ears and stumble backwards, promptly falling flat on your back and getting the wind knocked out of you.

The creature steps into the light, and to your horror, it’s Opila, the pink bird-creature that had chased you up in the main kindergarten. You swallow hard, trying not to let a scream rip from your throat.

“Quick, in here!”

You turn just in time to see a pale figure disappear into a room back down the hall. There is a tip-tapping of claws behind you and you waste no time scrambling to your feet, moving as fast as you possibly could to reach the door before it is locked.

You practically throw yourself into the doorway, landing on the ground with a thud. You land on your shoulder full force, groaning as you hold it with your other hand. Panting, you squeeze your eyes closed, letting the pain pass as you have so many times already.

Once you catch your breath enough to take in your surroundings, you allow yourself to scan the room and view your rescuer.

The thing… your savior of sorts… was a white, bipedal creature looking similar to Banban in both size and anatomy. There are two ears on top of its head instead of party hats with a little pink bow. Her eyes are large circles with a thin ring of bright pink pigment surrounding them, making her look sunken and deathly. She extends a hand out towards you, her grin tightening.

“Everyone, I want you all to welcome our newest student!”

There is a dead silence. There are inanimate objects placed around the room at various kiddie tables, some with accessories like sunglasses or half-chewed bubblegum attached to their sides. They, obviously, do not move as you stand there, unsure of what to do next. The thing in front of the whiteboard had motioned to you - that means it’s talking about you. You shuffle your feet uncomfortably as it continues.

“Our newest student… who is late to class. I’ll let it slide since it’s your first day, but if this becomes a problem, you will face consequences. Please take a seat and we will begin for the day.”

You look around. There are a few pre-schooler sized plastic chairs that are unoccupied, so you walk over to one and sit down. Your adult body overtakes it. It squeaks beneath your weight, and you wince. You don’t care to find out what would happen if you don’t follow the teacher’s directions, much less if you destroy the chairs in the room. You look back up after sitting to see the white humanoid writing on the whiteboard.

“For our new students in the class, my name is Miss Mason! I will be your teacher. Today will be a simple review of what we have learned so far this semester. It appears you’re lucky today, new student.” Miss Mason nods in your direction. If she can move any of her facial features, you’re sure she would be winking. “I’m going to start with math, and whoever knows the answer will simply say it aloud, no hand raising necessary.”

She stops writing on the white board, suddenly turning to you, and her features darken.

“I’d better hear an answer, or there will be severe consequences for the entire class.”

There is a beat of stillness, before she begins writing the question on the board as if nothing had happened. Once she finishes writing, she steps to the side, hitting the board with the marker end loudly.

“O-kay! Our first question is: What is six billion, eight-hundred-and-seventy-four million, one-hundred-and-twenty-three thousand, six-hundred-and-twelve, plus nine-hundred-and-eighty-one million, nine-hundred-and-thirty-nine thousand, nine-hundred-and-twelve? And remember, there will be severe consequences for both incorrect answers and no answer at all!”

She stands aside, waiting for a response and smiling. Your heart pounds.

So this is it. You come all this way and you’ve finally hit the end of the road: death by being locked in a classroom with a murderous teacher.

But then, a familiar voice that you can’t quite place echoes from the hallway outside, saving you just as you hear Miss Mason begin to reprimand you.

Hell-oooo-oooooo?

“What was that?” She hums. You shrug, once again not daring to respond. She places her marker down on the whiteboard and begins to walk to the exit. “One moment, class. I will be back shortly.”

As soon as she leaves, you make a mad dash for the vent in the corner.

Though your body still hurts from the tumble you’d taken, you easily remove the vent cover and crawl inside. You use your elbows to pull your body forward, up a ramp into (what you’re assuming) the ceiling of the place. Little by little you begin to make it through. Behind you, you hear the door to the classroom open and close again.

Miss Mason’s voice echoes in the distance, but as soon as you stop moving to try to hear her, the vent breaks beneath you and you fall back to the ground, in the hallway where you first ran from Opila.

You groan. How many more times will you have to fall down before this adventure is over? Struggling to your feet and pushing down the resentment you’re beginning to feel towards the senseless sidequests you keep seeming to be sent on, you finally have time to look around and figure out where to go next.

But of course, you hear something behind you that makes you stop dead.

When you turn around, your heart stops. There’s a snail well over twice your size obstructing the door at the end of the hall, its large eyeballs staring perfectly still, straight ahead, hardly even taking note of your sudden presence in the hall. With the rubbery, wrinkled skin and lack of movement, for a moment you supposed it could be a statue, but then, it moves. You take a step back instinctively, heart thudding. It slinks forward a few feet, then stops at the doors on either side of the hall. It leans forward, stretching its eyes either way, inspecting the small windows into the rooms they lead to.

You break into a sprint, desperately scanning your keycard to the next two rooms in the hall, but to no avail. Then, there’s an echoing voice, coming from all around you. It bounces off the walls, enveloping you in a horrific chill, a terrifying realization crawling up your back as you skid to a halt just past the next set of doors.

Hell-ooooo-oooooo?

You’re taken back to when you had first entered the school over a year ago, child in tow.

That voice…

The snail lazily slides forward to the next set of doors, strained smile drawing up to pained eyes.

Where are you hiding?

Tears spring in your eyes. You have to keep moving. No matter how much it hurts. You have to.

Without taking your eyes away from the snail, you scan your keycard at any old door in the hall and take cover. There's thudding outside the door once it closes, then the thudding grows more and more distant until it’s completely gone.

You curl up on the ground. This is too much. Miss Seline is a snail. Her voice just came out of a fucking snail. You cover your eyes with your hands and let the tears flow. Your chin trembles and you heave, making embarrassing sounds as all of the stress melts out of your body.

You’ve finally found out what they were doing here. No wonder Miss Seline had disappeared. No wonder the staff would brush off your questions about her. They took her and put her DNA in a fucking snail. You could vomit. Was this what had happened to your child? You could understand from the emails you’d seen that they had fallen from the ball pit on Bring-A-Friend-Day, that much was clear. But after they fell… where did they go? What did they do?

You could vomit. You wanted to vomit. The thought of hearing your child’s voice coming from one of those things… Their sweet, innocent voice…

You cry. You cry until you can’t anymore.

And then your anger and resentment returns. Your grief has morphed into something more. It's turning into malice, into maleficence. You can feel it gripping your throat, twisting your stomach with the power it holds. This is no longer just about getting your child back. It's about justice. You already have the emails you printed earlier. You already have proof of wrongdoing and neglect. But now you want to see this place burn. You need to see this place burn. If not for you, then for the parents and employees that fell prey to its deceit.

There is nothing left to do now but continue. You’ve accepted that you may never get your child back. You can’t change that. You can’t ensure they’ll be okay ever again.

But you can ensure that this never happens to another child ever again. You can look for more documents. Build a case. The cops will just ruin everything, but you working alone… You could take this place down for good.

The best place to start? Right where you are.

The room you’ve taken shelter in is some kind of observation deck. Rolling chairs line the main dashboard, which is lit up with several colorful buttons and switches. Cabinets below overflow with papers, and one in particular catches your eye - it’s open, while the others are closed. You suddenly wished you had taken some of the files from the Medical Sector. You might have discovered more if you had. Seeing an opportunity at redemption, you go through the cabinet, only finding a select few files of interest. You decide to read one in its entirety before pocketing it for more evidence.

‘Case Update Report [COPY]

Case 1.2

Case type 1

Givanium

Update Summary:
Case [REDACTED], one that we are testing Givanium (Gv) on as of [REDACTED], 20XX, has flexed muscles in its left arm in response to stimuli. Muscles that have proven functional include the triceps brachii, deltoid, subscapularis, and teres major. Its nervous system has begun functioning as an organic one would.

As predicted, Gv seems to provide identical functions to blood.

Reaction of said case to Gv was unanticipated. The chemical appears to expand in size where it is set to flow, and as a result, the veins across its body have expanded and become noticeable to the naked eye, even from a distance. Neither growth appears to have any kind of negative effect, however, the visual is certainly an undesired outcome.

Plans for the future are to approach other cases in a similar way we have approached this one. We will see if organic & sentient behavior is attainable upon sustained exposure to Gv.

Studies on this case will continue.’

Experimentation, just as you suspected. You pocket the report.

Against your better judgment, you enter the room the observation deck looked over, a beach-themed area with umbrellas, sand, pirate cannons, and a wall painted with a beach scene. You’ve been making a lot of assumptions, but since they’ve all been correct so far, you have no problem in assuming that this exhibit was to observe the behavior of the orange jellyfish. Stinger Flynn, was that its name?

There seems to be nothing else of interest in the room, besides (oddly) still having full power and heating for the authentic beach simulation. But then a small dumbwaiter in the corner of the room catches your eye. You walk over and press the red button next to it. The gate to enter rattles open and you, not seeing anywhere else to go, clamber inside and press the button on the inside to go down. The gate closes in front of you and the lift creaks under your weight as you’re lowered into wherever the lift leads.

When it reaches the next floor, you exit and step out into yet another odd room. Many doors are placed around the room, looking to represent each mascot based on the graphics placed next to them. You can hear gentle music playing over the PA above, unsettling you in its attempt to soothe. In the corner is an area blocked off in glass, looking like a place for a lift to pass by and view the area. A gentle grinding sound comes from behind the glass, growing louder and louder until the lift appears from above. Banban stands with his arms behind him, though, when he sees you, he appears to jump in surprise. You approach the glass, putting a hand against it.

“You’re here! Honestly, I’m surprised our paths crossed again. You’ve come a long way already.”

You simply stand and stare at him, unsure of his intentions or how he would react. Realizing you would not be speaking to him anytime soon, he continues, thankfully showing no signs of annoyance at your silence.

“I have to be honest, this feels weird. Normally, I’d be in your place, and you would be the one looking at me through the glass.” The creature hums, reminiscing on his past. “It feels like being an animal in a zoo, doesn’t it?”

You would have to agree. Though a million questions swim through your mind, you know they’re being answered as you’re forced deeper and deeper into the facility. You shouldn’t interrogate the entity when it seems like you’re well on your way to finding everything out anyway.

“I’ll have to keep this meeting brief, by the way. The doors are about to open for assembly and I’d rather you not be put in more danger than you have to be. You deserve an explanation, though, so I would like to talk if you’re not in too much of a rush to get wherever you’re going.”

You nod. Banban’s permanent smile seems to grow tighter as he nods back. He continues speaking.

“I’m really sorry for hitting you. I only did it because I had to, you understand. I’m not a monster. But something happens when I’m around conscious humans that I can’t control right now, and I couldn’t risk hurting you further if I tried confronting you. You’re here because of your child, and I can’t fault you for that, but if you decide to dig around to try and solve more of this chaos, you’re going to get hurt. You’re going to encounter monsters worse than me, who don’t care about being good or bad. You saw Seline, you saw Miss Mason, and you saw Nabnab. Deep down, you know this is only going to get more and more dangerous. I’m more than aware that you won’t turn back now, but I’m giving you this warning so you’ll be prepared.”

Despite not wanting to speak, you manage to croak out two words. You have to know. You need to know.

“My kid.”

Despite smiling, there’s a sad, pitying shine in the red creature’s eyes. “Someone has taken them. All of the children. It’s someone farther down, more dangerous and far stronger than you or me. But I’m working on saving them. And now, with your help, I think we may have a chance. Will you help me?”

Before you can respond, there’s a deep rumble from another nearby room. A gentle chime that you’d heard before Banban’s PA announcements comes from the speakers around the room. You and Banban look at each other, wide eyes meeting and instantly understanding one another.

“You have to go. I’ll meet you farther down, run through Opila’s hall behind you. If I see you on the next level, I’ll take that as a yes.”

The elevator holding Banban moves down into the level below, and you watch as all of the doors around you open. Backing up, you press your back to the wall next to Opila’s hallway, scanning the room for whoever would enter.

“You’ve been a bad student!”

Miss Mason’s deformed, white hand grabs the corner of the door as she steps around the corner. You immediately rush down the hall, running full-force into the walls before you turn the corner, building up your momentum more and more. There’s crashing from behind you, and you see a green fist you’re more than familiar with punch in a door from the side of the hall. This repeats a few more times, missing you again and again, and before you know it, you’ve reached the end of the twisting maze that is the path you ran down. Though Miss Mason’s rapid footsteps are distant, you know you don’t have much time to get through this door before she arrives.

You shuffle in your pockets. Your hands shake violently while you fumble through your keycards, finally finding the one to open the door and free you. The door could barely open in time. You glance behind you as Miss Mason rounds the corner, speeding down the hall towards you with wild eyes.

You enter the room, and the door, albeit slowly, closes right in Miss Mason’s face. You hear her cry out as you fall to the ground with a huff. Your head spins.

Forcing yourself to stand, you slowly walk past stacks of large steel drums plastered with a bunch of warning labels. This room appeared to be hazardous waste storage. The smell of chemicals and iron fill your nostrils.

Another rickety lift waited for you around the corner, a floodlight shining on the glass floor panels. Though less than inviting, you hardly had any other choice in the matter. You step on the lift and press the button, finally being let down into the next floor.

What you don’t see as you ascend into darkness is Seline, her large, toothy grin and pained eyes, looking down over the ledge as you, yet again, travel deeper into the facility.