A Playcare Nightmare

The familiar hum of the Playcare was a lullaby, but tonight, it failed its purpose for Y/N. Clutching a worn CatNap plushie, the small child lay awake, the shared dormitory a symphony of soft snores. A strange restlessness tugged at their young mind, a quiet curiosity that outweighed the usual shyness. Slowly, painstakingly, Y/N pushed open the heavy door, a sliver of hallway light spilling in. The corridor stretched out, seemingly empty.
Just a short walk, a quick peek. What harm could it do?
As Y/N tiptoed down the quiet hall, a colossal shadow loomed at the far end, almost melting into the dim light. It was CatNap, standing perfectly still, watching. A shiver of fear, quickly replaced by a familiar, almost comforting curiosity, ran through Y/N.
“U-uhmm, hello,” Y/N whispered, voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to bother you.” The figure remained motionless, its glowing eyes fixed. Then, a deep, resonant voice, like rustling leaves in a forgotten night, echoed in the stillness.
“Go to sleep.”
A plume of faint red gas, sweet and heavy, drifted from CatNap. Y/N's eyelids grew heavy, the world swirling into a soft, dark embrace.
