Two Different Bunzoes | Chapter 8 | Book of Rain

2 Peter 2:1-3

King James Version

1 But there were false prophets also among the people, even as there shall be false teachers among you, who privily shall bring in damnable heresies, even denying the Lord that bought them, and bring upon themselves swift destruction.

2 And many shall follow their pernicious ways; by reason of whom the way of truth shall be evil spoken of.

3 And through covetousness shall they with feigned words make merchandise of you: whose judgment now of a long time lingereth not, and their damnation slumbereth not.

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Diary of Rain

My friend, Malia, told me that in the future this news report would come out: “From ancient dinosaurs to worms at the bottom of the ocean, scientists and associates described an extraordinary 815 new species in 2023. With Earth facing a biodiversity crisis, understanding the life we share this planet with has never been more important.”

If we discovered a new species unlike anything we've ever seen before, how could we determine whether or not they're sentient? We might label them as animals or bugs, but how could we understand their brain state if we've never encountered them until today?

Some might argue that they're not sentient, thereby justifying consuming them. But what's the point in that reasoning if there truly are some non-sentient species?

I think this is what I wondered when I first became a toy because as far as I know, I think my soul got transferred. I was about… 13 when I was turned into a “bunny toy” in 1991. I looked like an 8-year-old before I was turned into a “toy.” No breasts, no curves, no noticeable sign of aging. I had this “Bobby Bearhug toy” friend, her name is Malia but we don't get along as much as she's so scared of Catnap, She'll do anything for him. She was… She was… She was about… 10 when she was turned into a tiny “Bobby Bearhug” in 1991. She's 23, now. I am 27.

When I was 13, I was a religious southerner. I had this long “red” hair like an orange poppy flower, those symbolize regeneration. In color, the more understandable way to say my hair’s color is “It's orange. My hair color is naturally orange. It may not look that way under certain lighting, more like a light brown, but most of the time, it looks orange.”

My biological father, James Ryan, had orange hair, and my biological mother, Andrea Ryan, had red auburn hair. I was shocked to realize my mom had naturally dark crimson red hair unlike my orange haired father.

No one bullied us for it because we lived in America and we never felt that anything was wrong with us. No one even thought of our hair color.

My father, James Ryan, died when I was 12. My mother, Andrea Ryan, died when I was 6. My Father died in a car crash, he drove drunk into a tree. My mother died when she ate a parasite to stay thin. The parasite ate her organs.

Malia was a different story, she hailed from France and people thought she was evil because her hair was “red,” really, it was orange like copper.

Her family had moved to Michigan because of a job and her dad, Markus Bull, died first in a work accident at the construction site. He got lifted up by a dirt lifting truck and then buried by it. He was murdered. The guy who ended his life, William Atton, had intentionally done it to Markus Bull because he was jealous of his life.

After William Atton did it, William Atton ran over the dirt pile with his truck. It was, at first, said to have accidentally crushed Markus Bull. William said that “I only wanted him to feel pressure,” as William wanted to let the dirt pile suffocate him.

This happened when Malia was 6-years-old. This left Malia with Eva Bull. Eva wasn't a horrid mother, Eva was a decent mom! Eva was just a psychopath to anyone else.

You see, Malia told me that her mom was in the yard burying a body. Malia never told her mom she saw her bury the 4 different bodies that night, but one day, it couldn't be ignored. You see, her latest victim, Sharon Dupree, stabbed her mom in self-defense.

This kind of reminds me of something that I forgot to mention, but holy frick, I should. Eva had been sleeping with William Atton and asked him to kill Markus Bull so she would get his insurance. Malia overheard her talking about it after her dad's death. William did it because he hated her dad, but he never implicated Eva Bull.

Malia’s mom died when Malia was 9-years-old and her life was horrific as she always feared her mom would kill her. Her mom wasn't abusive physically or verbally, and she was never emotionally or physically neglectful. She was just scared of being the next victim, which led to Malia running away from home a lot, only to be returned by the police.

Malia whispered in my ear once that “Mommy had daddy killed because he saw her bash a lady in the head with a shovel.” Her life sucked. She had a good life with her play-care caretaker, Anna Palms, whom she told all about her past. Anna was flabbergasted and horrified by the bits and pieces of Malia's past information that Malia gave her. Anna Palms was a Hopi Indigenous American.

Malia Bull was with Anna Palms for 2 years before being turned into a toy, but Anna stole her before she got shipped out and would spend time with Malia in her new form. Anna said, “I'm sorry,” a lot.

They were together for 4 more years. When the hour of joy occurred, Malia was hiding in the shadows with Anna Palms, but when Anna heard the monsters calling, Anna hid her under the bed and Anna tried to barricade the door to keep out the monsters as Anna told Malia to close her eyes so she wouldn't see Anna Palms die.

Anna Palms couldn't hold the door open long enough, Boxy Boo broke in and Malia heard Anna get slaughtered in seconds with full-on screams.

Malia was never the same. She was angry, hateful, and bit people. The Prototype put her with Catnap because she was so violent and aggressive. Only Poppy could calm her down, but not without her threatening to bite Poppy in a psychotic break.

The Prototype put her with Catnap since Catnap was kind to children, she was still very angry and hateful but was too scared to show it to Catnap.

I tried to stay her friend, but her fear of Catnap was overwhelming. I didn't like being around her because he'd have her hunting for him, and she'd only grab dead toys for him or food from the cafeteria. She'd never eat them herself as it was cannibalism.

Eventually, when we were adults, she did come to speak to me and said “I want to be friends with the prototype. I'll be put in a better place, I hope! I don't even eat people because he feeds me normal food from the underground city in the gigantic cave!”

I was scared, but I told her to “Ask him to take us to the underground city!” After that, we approached the overwhelming sight of the prototype.

He wasn't too happy to see us, and asked me to “take Malia to Catnap.” I said “We came to enter the better place; The underground cityscape.” He was confused, but said “Where the orphans live?” As if he wasn't familiar.  I replied “Where the orphans live. There's a city below the labs, I believe. Do you not know of its whereabouts? There's a better press and everything.”

This… wasn't too shocking. He clicked. He said “You want to be where the better press is?” And we said “From what we've heard, we assume there's a city down here. Yes. I want to be where the better press is… and where that restaurant they speak of is located.”

He was stressed, but because of a newcomer they suspect may be beckoned to the factory. With that, he said “Why?”

Malia said “I've been through a lot. Mother was a serial killer, she hired a man who crushes my father, and… Lots of things happened. Lots of bad things. I do not desire to go through anymore… I reject ‘life is pain.’ I demand a better way. You will not let me leave this place — so I desire a better place that is not a death.”

The Prototype looks at me, and asks “Who are you?” • “What?” I stuttered. • “Who are you?” He says in 3 voices for each word.  I reply:  my“Rain. This is Malia. Um… You probably want to know why I want access.”

He nods, that jester hat bobbing with his grin. I just said “I… Okay, I just wanted the same thing she wants. If you want to know my story, honestly, it's not eventful. My father drove drunk into a tree, my mother… well, she is… eventful… she ate a parasite to get skinnier, so it ate her organs.”

I covered my eyes, tearing up. I didn't even know I could still produce tears. He placed a hand on me, making me jump, and poke my head up. He.. always smiled. I never knew his true emotions outside of a confused head tilt.

He says “How dark… and gory… She's dead?” I was stunned by him asking when it was quite obvious: “Yes! How could she survive?!”

So, he placed us in the better place. I was stunned we were even allowed in! It was a huge place! The better press was a real place! It was amazing!

The Prototype says the rules we must follow are essentially “no lying, no stealing, no disobedience, and be kind.” Not hard. Pretty easy.

I asked “Is… this a factory town? I remember when they first took me to playcare I saw this line of factories behind the factory. Nothing burnt factory upon factory upon factory. It's like it took up the city. Did we really kill them all off?”

He nodded. I was flabbergasted! “How?! There are so many of those factories! They're everywhere! It's like they replaced Michigan!” I exclaimed!

He nodded, and said “I know. It's a lot.” We were talking and driving. He was the driver. It took awhile to get there. He was always the driver to the city. I have no idea why. He sent me to live in an apartment. We had a skyscraper to ourselves… well, a room in it to ourselves. 

Outside was a bed of poppy flowers. Only red ones, no orange poppies which are a symbol of regeneration. I love the poppies! THey’re so beautiful! People always looked at us for being so different!

This is what I look like:

This is me… When I was asking for access… He drugged us out with the poppy gas before getting us on the train. We woke up halfway through.

After settling in our home, The Prototype watched us. He kept his eyes on us like a hawk. We were confused as to why he was so meticulous. We got our stuff ready as he was just around the corner just outside of our home.

Malia called it guarding, so I called it such. Malia watched our Prototype leave our home and go visit other orphans who were adults and such. He was super busy with things going on there.

I slept soundly knowing that this was a much better place for us than back up there in the factory. We were very quiet, fearing the collapse of the cave. I slept in a lot but she was always looking for work.

Was I a fool? Well, no… I couldn’t ask to go outside because he keeps us in the factory by force. Gosh… I just noticed that there are so many poppy farms out here… There’s a giant home out here, too… And… Homes… Normal homes…. Right near those poppy flowers…

Interesting… I see no orange poppies anywhere. Why? Why did no one farm an orange poppy? Whatever… I stared at it out the window in vain, anyway…

The Very Next Day…

I heard that poor Melanie & Theresa had died… It sucked… I… I couldn’t believe it… I was never told how… They’re holding a vigil outside for them right now. The Prototype told us they would be doing so and that it’s imperative we attend.

NOT dead. HELP.

Things are not as I  had dreamed…

At the vigil, we noticed something odd. There were lies being told about our old friends. Now, Malia was willing to say anything to survive, so she stayed silent, and I was desperate to stay here, but to hear the Prototype label them as rebels… It was awful… I left in the middle of the vigil…

He did not fully notice, as in he wasn’t paying too much attention, mind drifting, but he did notice I was leaving somewhere. After the vigil, he followed me to an alleyway and asked “Where do you think you are going?” Sounding livid, I looked back and dared not to question the king, and just said “I was too devastated to stay at the vigil…” Crying, a lot… He said “Why? And I said… “I…  can’t say…. It hurts too much…” No, it’d hurt too much. I might get turned wrongside out.

He says “Why? Truth helps us heal.” I said “It hurts to hear… People… Calling them rebels… I never knew them as rebels…” The Prototype giggles, I’ve never heard him giggle before, but he says “They WERE rebels. They hid it from you as they all do.”

I look back at him and say “Okay…” Then I leapt up to get on with my day as we all have to do and go “I need to be led back to my home, I’m scared… I don’t know why, I ‘m just so scared. I have this horrid feeling…”

A HORRID OMEN.

The Prototype giggled again, he asked “You’re lost?” And I replied “Yes… I’ve never been to such a large place before…” His laughter got louder, then said “Follow me.” So, I did, I kept this growing, gnawing fear.

I  WAS A FOOL.

He took me to his home, not mine.

Trapped.

He told me he was gonna keep me there for conditioning.

Scared. Help,  Malia.

He found my diary. I luckily hid it. again; He may find it again……

To be continued…