Chapter Text
Before Monsters Existed
Long before The Prototype.
Before The Hour of Joy.
Before the children’s names disappeared from the records.
Back then, Playtime Co. was still trying to look like a modern miracle.
The commercials showed happy families.
The walls were painted in bright colors.
Mascots smiled from every corner of the factory.
And Playcare was still presented as a safe haven for orphans and visiting children.
But beneath that facade…
something was already slowly rotting away.
And some people within the company knew it all too well.
—
Marceline was still new back then.
Nineteen years old. A folder full of impeccable reports.
A perfectly ironed white apron.
And a voice so soft that even the most troubled children ended up calming down around her.
The employees said she had a “natural touch” for dealing with difficult children.
What they didn’t know was that Marceline was also beginning to notice strange things inside the factory.
Children waking up crying after certain medical evaluations.
Employees in white coats walking through restricted corridors at absurd hours.
Doors locked with multiple security systems… far too elaborate for simple toy laboratories.
And, above all, there was him.
Harley Sawyer.
—
—Kevin, look at me.
Kevin Barnes sat on the floor with his hands covered in red paint while another child cried near the activity tables.
“He started it,” Kevin growled immediately.
He always reacted like that.
Defensive.
Violent.
Like an animal waiting to be punished.
Kevin was one of the most troubled orphans associated with Playcare. Internal reports constantly mentioned aggressive outbursts, fights, and antisocial behavior.
Many staff members already considered him “beyond help.”
Not Marceline.
She knelt down in front of him slowly.
“Did you hurt him?”
Kevin avoided looking at her.
That meant “yes.”
Marceline sighed softly.
“You can’t react by hitting everyone.”
“I don’t like it when people touch me.”
The reply came out quieter this time.
Softer.
Marceline felt her heart tighten slightly.
Because Kevin was constantly trying to look dangerous… but he was still just a child.
“It’s okay,” she murmured. “No one’s going to force you to do anything now.”
Kevin finally looked up at her.
And for a second, all the tension in his shoulders vanished.
That was the strange thing about Marceline.
The kids trusted her too quickly.
Across the room, Matthew Hallard was helping tidy up toys while several younger children followed him automatically.
Matthew was fifteen and had a calm presence that was hard to ignore.
Responsible.
Charismatic.
Protective.
Even the staff ended up delegating small tasks to him without realizing it.
“Marie hid the crayons again,” Matthew remarked as soon as Marceline approached.
Under a table, Marie Payne frowned.
“Kevin breaks them!”
“Because they draw terribly,” Kevin replied from the floor.
That sparked a few chuckles around the room.
Even Theodore Grambell smiled slightly from the corner where he was quietly putting together a puzzle.
Marceline watched the scene, feeling a warm sensation in her chest.
Moments like this made Playtime Co. seem normal.
Almost safe.
And perhaps that was the scariest part of all.
It was raining outside that night.
The raindrops pounded against the windows of Playcare as Marceline helped the children get ready for bed.
Theodore was clinging to her sleeve again.
“Can I sleep near Matthew tonight?”
“Another nightmare?”
Theo slowly looked down.
“I hear things in the ducts.”
Matthew barely lifted his head from the bottom bunk.
The silence that followed lasted too long.
Marceline forced a calm smile.
“It’s probably just the pipes.”
But not even she fully believed that lie.
—
Hours later, when the children were finally asleep, Marceline stepped out into the main hallway to get some coffee.
The industrial lights flickered dimly on the yellow walls.
And leaning against a vending machine was Harley Sawyer.
White lab coat.
Lopsided tie.
Deep dark circles under his eyes.
He looked exhausted.
But Harley always looked exhausted.
As if his mind never stopped working.
“I heard there were problems again with Kevin Barnes,” he said as soon as she appeared.
Marceline tensed slightly.
“He just had a bad day.”
Harley smiled faintly.
“No. Kevin has some very interesting violent tendencies.”
The way he said *interesting* sent immediate chills down her spine.
Marceline crossed her arms. “He’s a kid, Harley.”
“I know.”
But something in his eyes said otherwise.
Harley Sawyer didn’t usually just observe people.
He analyzed them.
As if every child at Playtime Co. were an equation waiting to be solved.
And that was exactly what was happening.
Although Marceline didn’t fully realize it yet.
—
“You have a rare talent with them,” Harley murmured, watching her closely.
Marceline looked away.
“I’m just trying to help them.”
“No.” Harley moved closer slowly. “You make them trust you.”
Too close now.
Marceline could smell cold coffee and chemicals on his clothes.
“Even Kevin calms down around you.”
“Because someone has to listen to him.”
Harley tilted his head slightly.
And then he smiled.
A small smile. Fascinated.
Like a man watching something extraordinary behind a glass pane.
“That’s what I like most about you, Marceline.”
She felt a small, uncomfortable knot in her stomach.
“What is it?”
Harley took a few seconds to answer.
“You still believe people can be saved.”
The phrase should have sounded kind.
But it didn’t.