Chapter Text
The year was 2004, and the date was February 8th.
It had been about a year and half since the unfortunate shutdown of the Gardenview Educational Center. Things were alright, or at least as alright as they could be. The toons, the inhabitants of the center, were managing. It was difficult, but not impossible.
The reason that the shutdown happened was a bit complicated. The developers, Delilah Keen and Arthur Walton, were under a massive amount of both scrutiny and pressure. The public wanted desperately to know how this could be; this being the show in its entirety. How was it possible for these characters to be alive?
At first, it was believed that the show was simply animation, since that's how it appeared, and the medium was quite common for cartoons at the time. However, a few years down the line, the studio opened a small portion to the public, where children who enjoyed the show could come and meet their favorite characters in real life. It was such a novel idea, and children and parents alike loved it!
Of course, the concept was not without question. People are naturally curious, and they wondered about the toons. They were too small to be actors in costume, and too intelligent and sociable to be robots.
Just what were they?
The topic was debated heavily by the small but prevalent community. Journalists with a spiritual outlook clashed with those with scientific views, believing that the developers were using witchcraft or that the toons were previously undiscovered creatures respectively. Either way, it was agreed that the phenomenon was incredibly strange and could potentially be dangerous. The articles and accusations piled up, and it weighed on Delilah and Arthur. Eventually, the stress was too much for the studio to bear, and it was permanently closed. Not a single employee looked back to it.
"Would you pass the salt, Cosmo?"
Sprout asked, smiling. Cosmo did not have a similar expression. He handed over the shaker wordlessly.
Sprout poured a light amount of crystals onto a slab of steak. He thought about cracking a joke to lighten the mood, but it seemed a bit inappropriate now. The grin slowly disappeared from his face.
The mood in the kitchen was tense, just like it was everywhere else in Gardenview at the moment.
The toons had been living together in the institution for a year and a half. The exact number of days, Cosmo didn't know for sure, but it didn't matter.
The point was, everything had been fine before. The worst thing they had to worry about was whether or not Dyle would bring back enough sugar to make cupcakes that week. Now, the world seemed flipped upside down.
The first incident had occurred about two months ago.
Dyle, the clock toon, had ventured into the supply rooms, to check back up on stock. This was his job, both before the shutdown and after. He was the only toon that Delilah trusted to go outside of the toons' designated areas, but it came at the cost of not appearing on the show. Of course, he took a small amount of pride in his job, but it pulled at him slightly to think of what he had missed out on. It's what he thought about as the elevator descended.
When the door opened with its usual screech, the clock found that his was clearly not the floor he intended to arrive on. He was headed for a warehouse, but this looked more like some abandoned basement. Lockers lined the walls, the floor was made of concrete, and-
A train flew by, the colors and small lights flashing past through the barred windows. Dyle nearly jumped out of his skin, but relaxed himself quickly. He was familiar with the train system, but he had never noticed this room before. He proceeded with more caution than before.
That was all the rest of the toons knew. Dyle did not tell the rest of the story, but it was clear there was more to it. Being isolated from others for almost his whole life certainly didn't help with his ability to tell convincing lies.
Dyle did seem different afterwards, though, to those who could tell. He gave the impression that he had a secret, though the contents were unknown.
Some toons speculated that it was a monster, or a lost employee, or some other fantastical being. Others simply didn't care, and quickly lost interest in the subject.
Until some weeks later, another incident occurred.
"Alright, just make sure to be back by dinner, okay?"
Rodger said, sternly but gently. His daughter, Toodles, grinned brightly and nodded happily, before skipping away. Rodger typically didn't like leaving Toodles off on her own, but he was quite busy, and needed to be alone for a while to focus. He returned to his study, and thought not much more of it.
Meanwhile, Toodles headed into the elevator. Usually, there would be another toon in there and could help her press the higher buttons. Not this time. She gazed up at the panel, realizing that the library button was a bit too high to reach, even while standing on her toes. Then, she jumped up, aiming her finger at the button.
She did not hit the correct one. Her timing was slightly too late, and she hit a lower button. Before Toodles had time to remedy her mistake, the elevator quickly moved down, taking her to the unforeseen depths.
She did not come back up.
Rodger spent the entire night questioning the others, if they had seen her, and investigating floors he thought she might've gone on. Until, finally, he came across a floor he had never seen before. It had lockers that lined the walls, concrete floors, and-
It dawned on him that this was the floor that Dyle must have arrived on. He had questioned Dyle about the incident a while ago, but he didn't get much information from it, other than a description of the room. This place matched it perfectly.
Well, for the most part. Dyle did not mention there being black smudges of.. something all over the floor. He bent to touch it, and it was cold and faintly moist, though it was probably drying. It was a liquid, as far as he could tell. Rodger would've loved to investigate further, but he had something much more pressing on his plate: his daughter.
Which he found dead on the floor in a small room.
He just refused to believe it. Of course, he knew what death was. He read about it in books and occasionally heard about it from employees when they were still around. But it had never happened to any of the toons before.
And why did it have to be Toodles?
Rodger gently examined the lifeless body of his poor child, turning her over to reveal a large impact in the back of her head and two equally-sized puncture marks on her back.
It was terrible.
"It's so awful what happened to Toodles."
Sprout spoke up, knowing the topic was awkward to discuss, but he wanted to at least try to alleviate some of the anxiety surrounding it.
"Yeah.. Rodger must be.."
Cosmo said, but he could not find the last word in his mind.
Distraught, maybe. That's how most of the toons felt now.
There was much grief for Toodles, of course, but there was another lingering fear in their minds.
Could it happen to them? And if so.. what would cause it?