The toymaker's laughter echoed ominously through the game house, wrapping around Riley like a chilling embrace. Each peal of laughter twisted through the air, taunting him as chaos unfolded around them. Shadows flickered across the walls, and the figures that had once seemed playful now appeared menacing, their eyes glinting with malice.
Riley's breath quickened as he felt the walls closing in, denial washing over him like a suffocating tide. "Eleanor," he shouted, his voice strained, "you have to run! Get away from here!" Panic laced his words as the weight of the toymaker's twisted narrative pressed heavily on his shoulders.
Eleanor hesitated, her wide eyes reflecting a tumult of emotions—fear, confusion, and a flicker of hope. "But, Riley—"
