Rip Off (Poppy Playtime Shortfic)

(4.) Tail Stinged.

Disclaimer: I don't own Poppy Playtime (Video Game). I don't own the picture (cover). Or the song.

(qwertuno and SilentReadersMatter)

(Hope you enjoy.)

You asked once about my hideout. The place I've hidden from the others so they can't hurt as much as they're used to whenever I fuck up or they're mad.

"You really wanna know?" I'm in my child form. An eleven year old size and travelling behind your grab handed back. "I mean, it's not as...fancy as the others. Especially HERS."

My voice glitches out and you freeze. I can't blame you. Last time this happened, I nearly murdered you out of anger and greed. I don't want that again.

"Of course I do!" You answer with a heart chuckle, hand clasping my back and patting the furry thing covered in blood. "But why did you hide?"

I gave you a deadpan look. Based on the evidence of us being chased, nearly dying, chased, nearly dying, the cycle we've endured all these hours should be enough to suggest why I craved hiding in plain sight.

"Oh...sorry."

I rolled my eyes. You gasped as my size changed again, I no longer felt like being in my child form. Now I'm the size of you nearly, just a head shorter and a few inches little than your neck.

"They like hurting me." A distorted word forced its way outta my voice. That wasn't intentional. "Huggy with his teeth, Bron chewing on my considered flesh, Candy...Candy's the worst. Kissy's the lightest on punishments."

Your human mouth is lost for words. It's a basic case of child abuse except it's the monsters hurting who they are supposedly to consider their young. Ha, as if they'd accept me as one of their own.

I'm known as the rip off and there's nothing I can do to change their minds. One of the reasons I'm so cynical is they've stabbed me in the back more times than the non-existent fingers on my hands.

See why I don't trust anymore?

"What about Cat Bee?"

I froze and unconsciously tensed as if preparing for the inevitable hitting Huggy liked surprising me with from hours to days or even months in advance.

"We don't talk about them."

"Why-"

"wE dOn'T tAlK aBoUt hEr."

You raised your hands in surrender and i instantly relaxed. Sagging like an inflated balloon, I see we're reaching out intended destination. I actually smile.

It's a secret hallway and there's doors all aligned and hidden from the others making it safe and secure for me to live in peace. There isn't emotional scarring.

(A/N: To any Poppy playtime fans, it's basically the secret level with the bathroom, offices, and room filled with doll heads.)

"Welcome to mi Casa!"

It's an huge ass office filled with paperwork to computers with an eerily yellow glitch twinging the place making you feel uneasy.

"Cuddly."

"Yes?"

"You live here."

"Yes." I shrugged nonchalantly, smiling gradually sinking. "Have to. The others refuse to let me hide in their areas, so I make more a living here. It's actually pretty cosy once you get past the smell of rotting flesh and doll heads."