I was with the him at every step. Dr. Rosenbaum was a great inventor, bringing joy and laughter to the children of Bleresford with his wonderful contraptions. His children’s museum, Doctor Rosenbaum’s Emporium of Animatronics for Minors (DREAM), was a bright spot in the dingy lives of many of the city’s youths. Every toy, every ride, every creation was special. And Rufus was no exception.
He was a machine with a soul, a product of Dr. Rosenbaum’s strange alchemical pursuits. He felt an attachment to the old man, the man who had created him, had given him life, and Dr.Rosenbaum obviously felt an affection for Rufus as well. So, when the Doctor died in front of him, choking and gasping, it changed something in the animatronic cat, in his very heart.
Rufus dragged his beloved creator to the inner cells of his workshop. He placed the body in a special cooling chamber, then set about, pouring through manuscripts and research, digging through mouldy tomes and alchemical formulas. I could guess what he was after. If Dr. Rosenbaum could bring Rufus to life, perhaps Rufus...
When the sun rose that morning, Rufus had already created his first prototype, and I had fled. A flood of automata has poured from DREAM ever since, though they lack that spark that Dr. Rosenbaum was able to impart. I attempted to leave Bleresford, but whenever I got beyond the city’s gates, my nights were full of evil dreams – clanking machines, Doctor Rosenbaum calling to me, and hungry shadows.
Now, I hear tales of malfunctioning toys throughout Bleresford. Clockwork creatures that bite their owners and skulk in the dark corners of every home. I know Rufus is planning something. And I can’t run away this time.