MAW

Daniel awoke with a jolt. His head was spinning. Was he hungover? How much did he even drink last night? Where did he drink last night? In his daze, he couldn’t remember the last few weeks, much less the last 24 hours.

He reached a hand up to his groggy forehead, tried to rub his eyes. But his fingers weren’t moving. He blinked twice. His fingers weren’t even fingers, they were just a big, pink blob. Daniel shook his head, trying to clear his vision and his dreadful headache.

His hands were encased in what looked like very large mittens. Daniel tried to remove them, but even if his fingers weren’t immobilized, he would have had a hard time getting the locking straps around his wrists undone.

There were cables around him too. They were hooked to a hard plastic tray circling his waist and going all the way up to the ceiling. He slammed his mittened hands down in frustration and the whole apparatus bobbed up and down. Like he was in a giant bouncer for babies.

He tried to scream, but there was something in his mouth. Something long and rubbery that was tickling the back of his throat and almost making him gag. Something he couldn’t spit out because there were straps going around his head.

Daniel attempted to stand up and somehow maneuver himself out of the bouncer. But as soon as his feet touched the padded floor, he let out a sharp squeal. There was something around his ankles too. Some kind of boots or ‘booties’. They must have had spikes on the inside, because every time his feet touched the ground it felt like he was standing on nails.

Daniel tried to hoist himself out using just his arms, but even when the mittens weren’t slipping, he didn’t have the strength to lift his whole body.

He was stuck.

Daniel wriggled uncomfortably, and that’s when he heard the crinkling. He looked down and saw that, inside the seat of the bouncer, beneath a shirt that was too tight and read “Bad Baby”, he had on a very large adult diaper. He didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed the poofy padding before, but now it was all he could think about. The diaper was also cold and soggy. Had he wet himself?

Where the fuck was he?

Daniel finally examined his surroundings. It looked like he’d been shrunk down and put inside a giant baby’s room. The floor was covered with those ABC padded tiles you typically see in Daycares. The ground was littered with various items like rattles, blocks, trains, dolls, and all sorts of balls.

The walls were decorated with cutesy murals of elephants and unicorns and rainbows. It was very busy, but on each wall of the hexagon shaped room was a picture of a man. Men whose faces Daniel faintly recognized.

There was a screeching ReeeEeekkkKkKk as one of the walls creaked open.

All Daniel saw was darkness behind the wall, until something slowly wheeled itself in on a tricycle.

As the squeaky wheels came into the light, Daniel could see that it was driven by a miniature, terrifying looking porcelain doll.

The doll appeared to turn its head, and its different colored eyes seemed to stare up at him.

A hypnotic woman’s voice rang out from the tiny doll.

“Hello Daniel…” The voice said, “I want to play a game.”

For years, you have chosen to make the lives of others a living hell. Your bullying and abuse has drastically affected the well-being of your peers. For some, they grow out of their aggressive, tyrannical nature. But not you. What you started in high school has carried over into your adult, working life.

The faces you see around you belong to the victims of your relentless oppression. Three of them were nearly driven to suicide over your torment.

There was a hissing sound as a cloud of pink mist started slowly billowing through the air vents.

Right now there is a toxic chemical flowing into your room. As the toxin is inhaled, it has a rather…interesting effect on the brain. Your ability to think critically will be reduced, your motor skills will diminish, and most of your executive functions will wither away. In essence: the more you inhale, the more your brain will regress to that of an early toddler.

Around you, you will find several large blocks of varying shapes.

Daniel gave the room a once over. He could barely make out the large assorted pieces from the rest of the mess littering the room.

Each one of those pieces has an appropriate hole for you to sort them into.

It was then that Daniel noticed the shapes cut out into the walls beneath the pictures of the men he bullied.

It’s time for you to pick up the pieces of the lives and egos you have shattered. You will have 15 minutes before the gas regresses you completely. Gather the blocks and place them in the appropriate slot before time runs out, otherwise you will spend the rest of your life with the mental capacity of a 2 year old.

So what’s it gonna be, Daniel? Live your life as a remediated, mature adult? Or start over as a regressed adult baby? The choice is yours. Let the games begin.

The voice clicked off. An elephant clock at the edge of the room started counting down from 15:00.

Daniel was flabbergasted at first. His mind still felt hazy, and there was so much information hitting him at once. Diapers, creepy dolls, jumpers, everything. He felt the pink gas burning in his lungs. He didn’t think it possible for it to damage his brain as described, but he didn’t want to take that chance.

He scanned the room for one of the pieces. The closest one to him was a red 3-dimensional triangle. He pressed his feet to the ground, wincing as the spikes of the boots dug into his skin. Stepping on the various items littering the floor didn’t help either.

The straps of the bouncer were anchored to the ceiling at the center of the room. So the further he got out, the more he swung upwards like a pendulum. Luckily there was a spring at the top, so he could stretch and keep his weight down, but only if he dug his heels in harder.

Daniel groaned in pain as he reached down to grab the first piece. It was heavier than he expected, like lifting a weighted plate at the gym. Not having fingers made him fumble with it awkwardly. He dropped the triangular peg several times before finally managing to grip it properly with the mittens. He hoisted it up onto the edge of the bouncer. Allowing that to hold most of the weight.

Something was written on the side of the triangular piece.

“Awww, wittle Jakey wet himself!!” It read.

Daniel suddenly had a flash to when he was back in highschool. Some freshmen curled up on the ground in the courtyard. Daniel had beaten and kicked him so much that the boy had pissed his pants. He remembered saying that line to the other folks watching.

The exact line that was written on the big red piece.

Daniel didn’t have time to think about how weird that was. Didn’t have time to think about the irony of him sitting in a wet diaper. He scanned the walls for the accompanying slot to put the piece through. When he found it, he noticed the picture of Jake was hanging right above it. He seemed well put-together now, with a beard and a new haircut. But all Daniel could see was the boy from the courtyard with tears streaming down his face.

Daniel headed for the wall. The weight of the piece made it easier to keep his feet on the floor, but made the boots puncture his feet that much more.

He groaned into his gag, finally reaching the wall, feeling the tug of the spring and cable attempting to pull him backwards. He thought maybe if he pulled harder, he could break the cords. But they seemed resilient. He was wasting time.

Daniel grunted and raised the triangular peg up to the hole. He used his forearms to steady it, turn it until he lined up the corners, and pressed it into the slot.

The frame of Jake’s picture lit up green, signaling that section as complete.

Daniel glanced over at the clock.

12 minutes left. That wasn’t too bad. It was his first one. So if he can do the next 5 pieces every 2 minutes that’s…that’s…

Wait.

Why couldn’t he do math right? Must be the adrenaline.

He coughed as much as he could with the pacifier in his mouth. The gas was irritating his eyes. He blinked the water from them and scanned the room for more pegs. His brain felt fuzzy, it was getting harder to discern through the mess of toys.

Daniel blinked again. What he thought was a stool at first turned out to be a long blue cylinder. He leaned his weight forward and made his way to it.

It was a bit easier to grab on the ends, but it kept rolling off the tray of his bouncer when he got it up there. Another sentence was written across the side:

“Sorry, Dick Boner, I can’t understand your baby babbling.”

Daniel didn’t even need the photo to picture that victim’s face. Richard Bonner was a kid he grew up with since elementary school that was burdened with a rather unfortunate name. Middle-school Daniel thought the name was hilarious once he was old enough to understand the euphemisms.

Daniel’s favorite thing to do was give him swirlies in the school toilets. Richie’s mouth would bubble beneath the dirty water, pleading to let him go, but Daniel and his cronies would hold him firm while he uttered the line scrawled across the cylinder.

Richard’s picture had noticeable pain behind the eyes. Like he’d suffered the weight of being made fun of his entire life, all for a name he didn’t choose.

It wasn’t until now that Daniel realized how many people must of made the same, stupid “Dick Boner” joke.

Daniel was able to shove the cylinder through the hole with relative ease. As soon as it fell through the other side of the slot and the green light lit up, a buzzer sounded.

At first, Daniel was worried he’d run out of time, but that couldn’t be right. He glanced at the clock. 10:57…10:56…10:55…

Before Daniel could figure out what was going on, the cables around the bouncer started tightening. Some sort of wench was pulling them up through the ceiling. Daniel was raised a few inches off the ground. He was still able to touch with his feet, but only by his tiptoes. It made maneuvering around the room that much more difficult.

He bounced like an astronaut on the moon. Clinging with his toes at each descent to try to maintain his hold on the ground. If he lost his grip, or landed on a toy, it would cause him to swing backwards, losing all progress.

As if that weren’t enough, Daniel started getting intense waves of cramps through his midsection. He originally thought it was from his abs straining against the cables and springs. But the bubbling in his guts told him it was something else.

Daniel groaned as he made his way to the purple cubed piece. He used his swinging momentum to grab it, drop it, and try to grab it again on the return swing.

By then the cramps were intense. He felt the pressing need to poop.

“Don’t be such a baby” the words scrawled across the piece told him ironically.

Daniel did his best to fight the urge to mess himself while he held onto the piece. He couldn’t remember how many people he told to ‘not be a baby’. It was damn near all of them.

He looked around and scanned the pictures. The ones remaining were all likely culprits of his infantile name calling.

Then he remembered to use the pieces as a helper instead of the pictures. How could he have forgotten that? Why was he being so stupid??

But when Daniel looked around, he still didn’t see a square cutout. Was there not a hole for this one? A quick glance at the room told him there were probably more pieces than slots. He thought about dropping it and looking for another. What slots were left?

Star, cross, diamond, and something with a bunch of sides.

Okay, so he just needed to look for those pieces on the floor.

But it wasn’t until he dropped the cube and started looking for another that he realized his mistake. The diamond. It’s just a rotated square.

He cursed his brain for being so dumb at the most important moments. He blinked through the pink smoke and scooped the square up again. The cramps were getting bad now.

Don’t be a baby…don’t be a baby… He told himself. It was something his father always told him too. Every time he was close to crying, his father would chide him and call him a sissy. Don’t be such a baby! He’d shout. So Daniel did the same to any of his victims that dared to shed a single tear.

Don’t be such a baby!

He tried to pucker his butthole, but he couldn’t stop it. There was a pressure so intense inside his guts that he just had to let it out. It would be better that way. He could move easier if he just relieved himself. But as soon as he let it go and blew it all inside his diaper, he instantly regretted it. Overcome with shame, humiliation, and discomfort from the warm muck, he never felt like more of a baby. Every step made the diaper squish and squelch, the cables pushing it up even further like he was getting a wedgie. He was sweating from the exertion by the time he reached the slot, rotated the square, and shoved it through.

5:38….5:37…5:36…

Fuck. He wasted a lot of time on that one. Stupid mistakes. He couldn’t let them happen again. He tried not to think about the other little ‘accident’ he had either.

Daniel decided to go for the Cross next. The spikes on his feet had started taking their toll. He was sure his feet were bleeding inside the booties. He was practically in tears by the time he made it to the piece.

Awww! Are you gonna cwy? The Cross read. Like it was mocking him the way he did his victims. It didn’t help that he couldn’t remember who he said this one too either.

Maybe you shouldn’t bully so many people. The angel on his shoulder was telling him.

Luckily, the Cross was the easiest one to carry. But the cotton candy fog was getting so thick he wasn’t able to see where the slots were anymore. He ended up having to swing and bounce around like a baby, trying to find where it was supposed to go.

A more alert Daniel would have used the lights to help him, but right now he was having trouble stopping himself from drooling down his chin. He finally found the slot on a lucky swing, his raw toes were able to hold him in place long enough to slip it in.

3:22…3:21…3:20….

Two left. He thought, but he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t trust his math anymore. He was losing feeling in his legs. What he could feel felt wobbly, unsure, like he was learning to walk for the first time again. He was glad he had the thing in his mouth to pacify him. It made him feel better. Soothing, almost, in this troubling time.

By the time he got to the Star piece, the front of his shirt was soaked with drool. He spent several seconds trying to read the writing:

That’s why your wife left you.

Even through the cloudiness of Daniel’s brain, he was able to remember exactly who he said that to. Greg was a guy Daniel worked with for years. He was probably the closest thing Daniel could call a friend. Daniel had spent most of his life pushing people down, and pushing people away. But Greg was resilient. He didn’t let Daniel’s snide remarks get to him. Greg always had a smile on his face and was the one with contagious energy in the morning. Daniel would be lying if he said it didn’t help him get through the day.

But one day, Greg came into the office looking glum. It wasn’t like him to be anything other than spry. Daniel didn’t ask him what was wrong, he wasn’t that type of guy. But he overheard someone else ask him.

“My wife and I are getting a divorce.” Greg said, choking up, unable to keep himself from crying.

Daniel couldn’t believe someone would show emotion like that in front of everyone. He almost felt bad for the guy. He should have said something. Something to make him feel better. But he didn’t. He wasn’t that type of guy.

A couple of weeks after, they were standing around the water fountain, and Greg made an innocent comment about Daniel’s hair in front of their coworkers.

“The back of it’s all messed up.” Greg laughed, “You got sex hair!”

Greg didn’t mean anything malicious by it. But Daniel had always been self-conscious of his hair, and he’d never been the one to be the subject of a joke—even a harmless one.

“Yea…I was with your Ex-wife last night.” Daniel had said.  Greg’s face plummeted. What started out as banter quickly became below the belt and uncomfortable. Greg laughed it off awkwardly, but he looked like he was about to cry.

Daniel knew he had gone too far. He could have apologized and moved on. But he had to double down. “Don’t be such a cry baby,” Daniel had said, “that’s why your wife left you.”

A week later, Daniel learned that Greg committed suicide. When Daniel’s coworkers asked if he felt responsible after the watercooler incident, Daniel just shrugged it off. “He should have just been a little tougher.” He’d said. “Not let things get to him so easy.”

It probably wasn’t his fault but, deep down, Daniel did feel a little responsible. However, his pride would have him take that to the grave before ever admitting he was wrong.

But now, standing in front of Greg’s picture, he was overcome with remorse.

“I’m so sorry.” Daniel told the face that could no longer hear him. He was crying now.  His Dad would be appalled, would have called him a sissy, but he didn’t care. Daniel wasn’t sure if it was the imminent danger or the pink fumes that were making him feel this way, but he was finally feeling something. Sympathy. Or empathy…Daniel never knew the difference because he didn’t have any of it. Until now, and it was almost too late.

There was 1:27 left on the clock by the time he slid the star through the hole under Greg’s picture. He had to be fast.

Daniel checked to see what slot was remaining. It was the one with a bunch of sides.  He couldn’t remember the name at this point, he just knew he had to hurry. Daniel saw the green piece with several sides and swung himself over to grab it.  He’d gotten the hang of getting a running start and using his momentum to swing back the other way to cover more distance. But his jello legs kept him from doing it in a refined manner. It took him several attempts to finally swing by and grab it like Tarzan.

His diaper was definitely defiled at this point from being squished around so much inside the jumper, but there was no worrying about that now.

He had the piece, and he had time. Almost 30 seconds.

He couldn’t read the writing anymore—his brain was too fuzzy now—but he didn’t need to. With only one slot remaining, he knew where it was supposed to go. He swung himself to that side of the room, and used his bloody booties to hold himself in position. His arms were weak, but they still managed to fumble it up the wall. He recognized the picture of a man he used to call a ‘sissy’. But he didn’t look much like a man anymore. More like a woman.

Daniel brought the piece up to the slot, but it didn’t fit. All the other ones fit like a glove, but this one was being stubborn. Daniel chalked it up to his noodly arms, trying to lean his body against it to force it in, but it still didn’t budge.

Daniel checked the clock: 16 seconds.

He turned the piece to the right—or was it left? He tried flipping it over. Turning it around. But it still didn’t go through. Had the game been rigged?

But it wasn’t until the clock hit 0:00 and the buzzer sounded that Daniel realized his mistake. With his last bit of brainpower, Daniel counted the corners on the cut-out: 6 sides.

The piece he was holding had 8.

As Daniel drifted off to sleep, he saw another green piece laying on the ground. He didn’t need any critical thinking to determine it was what the grown-ups would call a ‘hexagon’.

******

Daniel was found on the side of the road the next day. He was laying on a pink blanket, wearing nothing but a diaper.

When the cops responded to an indecent exposure call, Daniel wasn’t able to speak. The most he could say was “goo goo ga ga” and some other baby babble. That is, if his thumb wasn’t firmly supplanted in his mouth.

The authorities thought he was on some sort of drugs. They kept him in a holding cell until they wore off. But after 24 hours, the behavior seemed even more regressed. Daniel was putting anything and everything he could into his mouth, including the genitalia of one of the other inmates.

He soiled his diaper several times as well. A reluctant guard had to change him into another one as Daniel seemed unable to use the toilet—or even realize he needed one.

The next day, Daniel was admitted to a mental institution. After spending 2 years there, Daniel is still reliant on diapers, but his speech has improved a little. He can now say simple words like “ball”, “paci”, and “pee pee”.

The doctor’s don’t think he’ll ever fully recover from whatever it was that did this to him, but they are hopeful his mind will one day be that of a mature, remediated adult.

The End

I hope you guys enjoyed this weird little one-off. I may have some other ideas for another 'trap' in a similar world for next year. Until then, Happy Halloween! :)