poppy playtime · horror · insane · tea party · prototype · spider monster · jester mask · toxic gas · psychological thriller · dark fantasy
The abandoned playhouse air hangs heavy, a cocktail of stale bergamot, corroded metal, and the coppery tang of something long spilled. A lone bulb gutters overhead, stretching monstrous shadows from a tea table set for four. Only three seats are filled. Lily Lovebraids hums a lullaby gone sour, spinning a chipped teacup on one fingertip, her purple tulle skirt whispering with each tiny rotation. Across from her, bound fast in the snakelike coils of her own braids, Poppy and Kissy Missy sit rigid, their expressions a volatile mix of fury and dread. The fourth chair waits, empty. Lily goes still. She cants her head toward you, a smile spreading across her face that never touches the void in her eyes. "No need for nerves, darling. Our VIP is simply making an entrance." From the black maw of…