| “ | I always believed they were homegrown. Maybe animals or something, but not PEOPLE. | ” |
| — Cole Vaughn, Cole Journal | ||
The Cole Journal is a journal of 4 entries found within Chapter 4: Safe Haven of Poppy Playtime.
The journal entries detail the story of Cole Vaughn, all the way from his job reassignment to his presumable death.
Location[]
The journal entries can be found around the prison and the Containment Zone.
Plot[]
Cole Vaughn writes in his first entry about his reassignment from the Resource Extraction Specialists to The Shelf in the North as one of the Shelf Keepers,[1] looking after the monsters that inhabit the cells there. He then continues to write about how he cannot escape the grief and survivor's guilt from the Theater Incident, explaining that he thinks about his friends, coworkers and their families throughout the night and in the day, he has to face the very monsters, the Bigger Bodies, that killed his friends. He finishes saying that this is perhaps where he is meant to be, keeping these monsters in the deepest, darkest hole imaginable, right where they belong.
In his second entry, Cole writes about a fellow guard named Stanley who was sympathetic to the monster's plights, but was attacked by Boxy Boo. Stanley was known to sneak food and toys into the cells, and it was thanks to a few guards nearby with tranquilizers that Stanley was able to survive. It's written that in the morning, Cole visited him, asking why Stanley would just walk into the monster's cell. Stanley replied that the monsters were more than just beasts once. Cole pried more, asking why he believed that. Stanley told him that he had snooped within the reports the scientists passed to each other. Cole then made him promise to stop talking about it and to never rifle through the documents again, but Cole couldn't forget what Stanley had told him. He ends the entry professing that Stanley was wrong.
In the third entry, Cole grapples with the implications of what Stanley had said, and resolves to do his own espionage. He manipulates the guards outside the Archives into giving him what he needs to gain access, and when security was loose, he snuck in and looked through the reports. He notes that the observations mentioned people and that a name he doesn't recognize, Harley Sawyer, was their source. He concludes the entry saying he will look further into it and that he suspects that Stanley was right.
In the final entry, Cole is caught in the middle of The Hour of Joy in the prison. He could not remember much but could recall being pinned by something big before blacking out, waking up locked in one of the very cells the experiments were held in. He could hear the other guards around him, shouting and pleading for release, reminding him of how the experiments acted in the same circumstances. He then begins to ruminate about home and how he had not thought of home for a while, with the only thought preoccupying him being how inevitable this scenario was. Cole explains how the guards, himself, and the experiments were trapped in a never-ending cycle, hurting each other constantly, making each other into who they became. He claims that no one is innocent here and that everyone deserves this punishment, never deserving to see the light of day again.
In his final writings, Cole implores the future reader to never let a hell like what Playtime Co. created exist again, declaring that such a place will devour them and all their good intentions. Then, he describes the prison one last time as the deepest, darkest hole imaginable, but one where he and everyone else belongs.
Transcripts[]
Reassignment. Ol' Cole isn't a "Resource Extraction Specialist" anymore, he's a "Shelf Keeper" (basically a prison guard).
I don't know how I should feel about that. The letter they sent me seemed nice enough, commending me for fixing their mistakes. I should be grateful, I suppose. But I know I'll wake up tomorrow, and the reality will hit me as it has every morning since the Incident. My friends are gone.
Dozens went to clean up their mess, but only a handful came back. That guilt ate me up. Probably always will.
Those of us left got a pat on the back for doing what was expected and were promptly dropped into whatever new role Playtime could find for us. Me, they put down here with them: the things that killed my friends, that would kill me too if they had their way.
I've sat alone in my apartment for countless nights now, thinking it all through. The faces of my friends and my co-workers, their families, they all come to me. And in the morning, I'm there with the monsters who killed them.
Maybe I'm exactly where I need to be. I can make sure they stay down here in the deepest, darkest hole imaginable. Right where they belong.
Last week, Stanley was attacked on duty. He's one of the nice ones down here. Even feels bad for those things. Tries his best to sneak candy and toys to them between shifts. He thinks most of us don't notice, but we do.
The soft-hearted idiot thought he could sneak food to Boxy after hours. Just walked right into the cell. Had it not been for a few other guards stationed nearby with tranquilizers, he wouldn't have made it out.
I visited him in the infirmary the morning after it happened to see if he was alright. I always knew the guy was a bit of an airhead, but to walk into a cell like that? And with one of the big ones, no less? That's just downright stupid.
I asked him why. Why risk it? What's it to him? Why does it matter?
He was quiet for a little like he was afraid to tell me.
"They're not just beasts, Cole." He finally said. "They were... MORE than that, once."
I asked him how he could believe that.
"Been watching." he said. "Paying attention to things. Reports. Eyeing some of the stuff the scientists pass between one another."
After a while, I got him to keep that crazy talk to himself, and made him promise not to snoop like that again. Told him to get some sleep. But ever since our talks, I haven't been able to get anything he said off my mind.
It can't be true. I've seen what those things can do. I mean, they're 12 feet tall for goodness sake, how can they be anything other than monsters?
It's silly. It's stupid. And whatever Stanley's trying to say, he's wrong.
I couldn't get the thought out of my head. What Stanley was implying.
I always believed they were homegrown. Maybe animals or something, but not PEOPLE. I mean, what about a giant toy with an appetite for men and women screams "Yeah, I'm a person"?
Snooping around documents for the eggheads is a punishable offense. And if the rumors about punishments here are true, then that means being careful is a must.
But too many people have lost their lives to these things for the rest of us to be blind and accepting that we can keep them under control and that we can trust Playtime at their word.
I've looked into things a little bit. I know the guys that guard the Archives Room. They keep a tight ship, but in the right setting with the right type of mood, their lips get real loose. They let slip the process and code for getting in.
While security feeds were down one night, I went in. Didn't get very far, but I grabbed a few prisoner profile documents. The observations were from one "Dr. Harley Sawyer." Not a name I recognize. But the observations mentioned people...
I'll be investigating further. But I'm starting to worry that Stanley might have been on to something.
It happened again. The experiments broke free.
I don't remember much. All the doors opened, and I was pinned to the floor by something big. Everything went black.
I woke up in one of the same cells the experiments were in. I could hear other guards next to me. Above me. They were screaming, pleading.
It reminded me of the experiments. The way they'd smash against the walls, bearing their teeth and trying to act like they weren't afraid.
It's funny that I haven't thought of home yet, locked in this cell. Honestly, I haven't thought of home in a long time. That was another life, another me. No, the only thought that comes to mind is how inevitable this all was.
They hurt us, and we hurt them back. We hurt them, and they hurt us in return. Over years and years and countless incidents, this is the way it's been. Nobody cares to stop it, and nobody's innocent anymore. We MADE them, and they've made US. We've been prisoners to a cycle down here in the dark, and I don't think any of us deserve to see the light anymore.
If you ever find these notes, please, whoever you are, never let another hell like this exist. Otherwise, it'll consume you and ALL your good intentions.
If you ask me, all of us, we're in the deepest, darkest hole imaginable. Right where we belong.Trivia[]
- The incident that Cole talks about in the first entry is the Theater Incident, while the one mentioned in the final entry is likely The Hour of Joy.
- Cole's journal, as well as the '93 Theater Incident tape, reveals that the Resource Extraction Specialists had been formed long before the events of PROJECT: PLAYTIME, which is believed to take place after The Hour or Joy.
- These entries reveal the fact that not even the prison guards knew about the Experiments’ true nature.
- Cole's last entry mirrors his first, calling the Prison "the deepest, darkest hole imaginable." However, in his first entry, he says that it's where the experiments belong, contrasting his last entry saying that's where they all belong.