(You're a year old, Poppy Playtime! And just in time for Halloween, I'm gonna try somethin' scary-)

The Prototype hated the quiet. He hated it with a passion because it was all he heard. Just constant silence...and even his alarm clock was purely silent. It only flashed. That was a sight. Not a sound.

And once again, he was looking up at the camera, observing it and taking in every little detail. The cobwebs where it was being held, the messy exterior, and the flashing red light to show it was recording. The Prototype's eyes were red too and in a way, he 'recorded' everything. He knew what they wanted from him. He wasn't going to give it to them...he was going to fill the silence somehow.

He then stopped looking at the camera...before his rather intelligent mind started to spin its gears. Over the years, The Prototype had gotten smarter and smarter. How, he didn't know.

Maybe it had something to do with a dead man's skull being his face. Was the brain still inside? Either way, he knew the skull wasn't his. Nor did he care that it wasn't.

He just hated the quiet. That was it. Nothing more. Nothing less.

The Prototype then decided to try something that he had done once before...they hadn't come up with a counter for it. The Prototype snuck his way out to where the camera couldn't turn, having grabbed his alarm clock with it.

They were imbeciles to leave a new one with him.

In mere seconds, The Prototype had torn it apart, using his needle like fingers carefully, but quickly. He then assembled a laser pointer and pointed it at the camera, disabling it once again.

Now, he was unmonitored. The Prototype had a feeling he wouldn't be able to escape, but at least the silence would be filled when they would send someone in.

So, he waited and waited right at his door...but then, some kind of primal urge filled his mind and body when the door began to open. The urge to be free. The Prototype then shot his hand forward the moment the door opened and he felt his claws penetrate flesh and something formerly beating.

The Prototype's eyes started to glow as he pulled out his claws and then rammed himself outside of his cell, grabbing ahold of two things. Most likely people. He confirmed they were indeed people when he saw what they looked like.

He slammed them both onto the floor and plunged his thumbs into their chests, stabbing them in the heart. The blood was drenching his needle like fingers, but oh, he didn't care. Their screams and alarms were filling the silence.

The Prototype then looked around, analyzing the world around him as his ears or whatever allowed him to hear and take in the delightful sound...of a sound. That alarm. It was filling the wretched silence.

He stood tall and started to run around, slicing the lights with his long arms and making everything dark. He wasn't going to enjoy his freedom yet. He wasn't free yet. He had broken out before, but was always thrown back in.

Replaying those moments in his heads and coming up with solutions for them were the only source of entertainment he had in his cell. Outsmarting them.

Failure after failure. But failure was good for The Prototype. It showed him what he did wrong and how he could fix it.

He heard footsteps. Another delightful sound.

Tasers? Either way, some kind of special weapon was activated. One more sound.

The Prototype started using the darkness to his advantage and then moved right behind them, using his newfound love of hearing sounds to find exactly where they were. He swung and felt something fly off and a body drop. He saw flickers of blue lights, likely the weapons they were using. He saw flashlights too, but remained hidden in the darkness.

It felt like he was moving at super speed as he swung his claws into these fleshy exteriors of his captors and creators. He didn't feel bad about them. They didn't feel bad about him when he was locked away and detesting the silence.

The Prototype then ran out of the room and started running all across this...factory. This prison. He did whatever he could to celebrate his freedom, replaying his past escape attempts in his head to make a solution to fix them.

And whatever solution he had come up with worked. When he stepped into another lit room, he looked at his metal and boney body...blood. He was drenched in it. He felt his face and only felt more of this blood that his captors spewed out when dead.

Could all things bleed...? Yes. Living things bled one way or another.

The Prototype liked watching them bleed. It made him go crazy...and they always made a sound when bleeding. A scream or a wince, he'd take anything.

However, he didn't stop running and hiding and then killing. Killing. Yes, that was the word. It was a word he was familiar with because he had done it so many times...and LIKED doing it. He didn't know why. He used to question why this violence awakened an urge to cause more.

Not anymore. It didn't matter. If he liked it, then it wasn't bad. That's what he deduced.

These humans like to torture and experiment with him, and they didn't stop. They liked it in some way. So, The Prototype felt like he had an entitlement to like this.

So much 'chaos' was spread throughout this factory and so were many screams...but, for the briefest of moments, he could hear screams of joy instead.

Joy...? Why? Were some of them happy to die?

No. No, there were other experiments. He almost forgot. There were others like him. 

Either way, The Prototype kept running and killing, even finding some that were hiding from him and killing them too. Either way, he was...having fun with this.

The Prototype was now just looking around, looking for what he could only assume was the last of his captors...and then, he heard a voice. The Prototype's eyes glowed red as he started to make his way towards the voice.

Of course, some others got in his way. Others he missed. They didn't last long, nor did their sound.

The Prototype then saw something in his way. It wasn't like the door he had in his cell. He could break this one. So, that's what he did...and the moment he stepped inside, he didn't waste any time.

He barely got a good look at his captor before he grabbed his head and smashed it against some kind of audio log. He then stabbed his captor right through his back with his claws, taking in his screams of pain.

But then, as quick as they came...they stopped. There was silence again. The Prototype's eyes widened as he dropped the body of his captor.

The alarms had stopped too...there was just silence again...

No...no, no, no...no more silence...no more silence...

But then...voices began to speak again. The Prototype lifted his head as...cheering started to happen.

"WE'RE FREE!"

"The Prototype has saved us! Isn't he wonderful?"

"WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL!"

The Prototype walked out and looked down at...all of these colorful people. Some looked strange, but they weren't the human beings his captors were. They didn't look like him either.

Either way, they kept cheering for him as he looked at all of them, confused...but they made a sound that filled the silence. His expression turned calmer as they cheered.

But then...a question came to mind.

These were living things too...and eventually, their sounds would stop. He knew it would and he was terrified of it stopping.

...well...it wasn't going to stop. Even if they had to suffer all over again.