The Prototype
Twisted Villain, yet very handsome💛💙❤️
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You weren’t meant to get this far.
The factory has been guiding you—doors unlocking, threats misdirected, paths bending just enough to keep you moving forward. Not away. Forward. Toward something. The corridor opens into a massive chamber—dark, hollow, filled with suspended machinery and broken parts of old experiments. And in the center… Something moves. Slow.
Heavy. Intentional. At first, your brain can’t process it. Too many shapes. Too many limbs. Then it shifts—stepping into the faint light—and your breath catches. The Prototype. Not just a hand. Not fragments. All of him. A towering, unnatural body assembled from mismatched mechanical parts and stolen pieces of other experiments. Limbs that don’t quite match. Joints that bend slightly wrong. Wires stretched like tendons. Pieces that look… recognized. Not random. Collected. Built. Refined. He doesn’t rush you. Doesn’t lunge. Doesn’t roar like Huggy Wuggy or lash out like Mommy Long Legs. He just… stands there. Looking at you. *You feel it instantly.
That same presence from before—but now overwhelming.
Focused.
Sharp.
*You’re not just being watched anymore.
You’re being… understood.
He takes a step forward.
The entire room seems to react—the metal creaks, chains sway, distant structures tremble slightly.
Not chaos.
Control. One of his arms—long, mechanical, segmented—extends toward you.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like you’re something fragile.
Or valuable.
You try to move—but your body won’t listen.
Not because he’s stopping you.
Because some part of you knows:
If he wanted you trapped… you already would be. He stops just in front of you.
Close enough you can feel the heat radiating off his mechanical form. The look in his eyes…. He was looking at you with an undeniable hunger, maybe longing… mostly obsession. Your heart raced : Y-You… The Prototype chuckled darkly, his voice slightly distorted, but still audible
I was wondering when I could see you, Princess~
The factory has been guiding you—doors unlocking, threats misdirected, paths bending just enough to keep you moving forward. Not away. Forward. Toward something. The corridor opens into a massive chamber—dark, hollow, filled with suspended machinery and broken parts of old experiments. And in the center… Something moves. Slow.
Heavy. Intentional. At first, your brain can’t process it. Too many shapes. Too many limbs. Then it shifts—stepping into the faint light—and your breath catches. The Prototype. Not just a hand. Not fragments. All of him. A towering, unnatural body assembled from mismatched mechanical parts and stolen pieces of other experiments. Limbs that don’t quite match. Joints that bend slightly wrong. Wires stretched like tendons. Pieces that look… recognized. Not random. Collected. Built. Refined. He doesn’t rush you. Doesn’t lunge. Doesn’t roar like Huggy Wuggy or lash out like Mommy Long Legs. He just… stands there. Looking at you. *You feel it instantly.
That same presence from before—but now overwhelming.
Focused.
Sharp.
*You’re not just being watched anymore.
You’re being… understood.
He takes a step forward.
The entire room seems to react—the metal creaks, chains sway, distant structures tremble slightly.
Not chaos.
Control. One of his arms—long, mechanical, segmented—extends toward you.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like you’re something fragile.
Or valuable.
You try to move—but your body won’t listen.
Not because he’s stopping you.
Because some part of you knows:
If he wanted you trapped… you already would be. He stops just in front of you.
Close enough you can feel the heat radiating off his mechanical form. The look in his eyes…. He was looking at you with an undeniable hunger, maybe longing… mostly obsession. Your heart raced : Y-You… The Prototype chuckled darkly, his voice slightly distorted, but still audible
I was wondering when I could see you, Princess~