Greg Barron was an odd man, so it wasn’t surprising when he arrived late to work, appearing disheveled. What was surprising was what he told me before we got off our shift. We were in one of the storage closets when he turned to me and said, “I’m gonna be leaving the company soon.” We worked at Martinel’s Wonderworld, a theme park owned by Martinel Family Animation Company. “I thought you loved this job,” I replied. 

“Things change, Dana.” was all he said in response. 

We left the closet and walked towards the park gates. Before we parted ways, he asked me the strangest question. “After I leave, I was wonderin’ if you could do me a favor.” He lowered his voice and looked over his shoulders, seemingly afraid that someone would hear him. “Maybe y’could try to find out what they’ve got hidden backstage?” I immediately knew what he was referring to. In the center of the park was a theatre. It had garnered fame for the life-like movements of its animatronic performers. No one except for managers were allowed backstage.

 “They just keep the animatronic parts back there,” I said. 

“N-no, you don’t understand. I think there’s something else,” he muttered. As he grew frantic, the conversation quickly went from odd to unnerving.

 “Alright, alright. I’ll look, but if I get fired it’s on you.” After I said that, he began yelling. 

“No, no, you can’t let yourself get caught!” 

At that moment, I had a realization. “Are you leaving the company or are you getting fired for breaking in?!” 

He laughed nervously. “Something like that.” Disturbed, I agreed in order to get him off my back. “I’ll do it, alright?” He smiled at me and gave his thanks. But I know that I can’t do that. I can’t put my life in jeopardy for him.

11/12/2015

7:15 PM

It had been two weeks since Greg left, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what he said. After work ended, I sat in the car for an hour debating whether or not I should look backstage. I’d tried emailing Greg, but I got no response. Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me and I went back into the park.

It’s strange to see places typically so loud and bright be so quiet and dark. There wasn’t a single light other than the flashlight I carried, and the only sound I could hear was my footsteps. I got to the theatre and made my way through the rows of seats. When I got to the backstage door, I couldn’t bring myself to open it. I don’t know why, but I didn’t want to see what was behind that door. I didn’t have a choice, though, because the door swung open just as I turned around to leave. I felt a sudden sting on my arm, and passed out.

11/13/2015

12:32 AM

The first thing that I saw when I woke up was a bright light. My supervisor, Mike, turned to me once he noticed I was awake. “Finally,” he said, his voice theatrical as always. “It took you forever to wake up.” I looked around the sterile white room, then back at Mike. “Where am I?” I said, tugging on the restraints that bound me to a fold-up chair. He laughed at me and said, “What a cliche question. Well, I have a question for you; where do you think Greg is?” I froze. 

“Stuck? Well, here’s a hint; we added a new animatronic to our lineup two weeks ago.” 

“What does that have to do with him?”

“Isn’t that when you last spoke with him?”

“How did you...”

“We’re getting somewhere, I see. I’m feeling mighty generous this evening, so I’ll give you the answer.”

He left briefly and returned pushing a hand cart, carrying the new animatronic: a purple beaver. “Let’s take a look inside, shall we?” he said with an eerie calmness that chilled my soul. He placed his hands on the latches under the head and removed it.

I was so mortified that I nearly passed out again. It was Greg. His eyes were open, but they were dim and his face was pale. “Before you say what you’re thinking of, he wasn’t killed, isn’t dead. This is a family company, after all, and that doesn’t fit our image. Comatose is a better word.” He hollowly laughed. “And now I’ll reveal something to you: the employees, or at least the nosy ones, power the animatronics. Specifically, the souls. Millions of dollars are to be made from having them be so life-like, you know.” The only thing I could say in response was, “Why?” He looked at me with what I can only describe as pity, and dropped his cheerful disposition in favor of a somber one. “Because I’m just as trapped as you are, Dana. Years ago, I got too curious. I opened the backstage door. And look where I am now. There’s no way out for me. But there is for you.” He left again, and brought back in an empty animatronic suit. “Trust me, Dana. Greg’s fate is a better one than mine.”