 In the mid-1990s, as the world of edutainment CD-ROM games was flourishing, there emerged a forgotten title that would later haunt the dreams of those who dared to play it. Bax's never-ending daycare, starring Bax the Rabbit, seemed innocuous enough on the surface, but its sinister undertones would soon cast a shadow over the lives of those who encountered it. The game was released in the United Kingdom in 1997, during the peak of MS-DOS systems like Windows 3.1, Windows 95 and later Windows 98. The games' aesthetic mirror that of other edutainment titles of the time, drawing inspiration from the likes of Sonic's Schoolhouse, which had come out the year before, but it carried an unsettling atmosphere that set it apart from other educational games of the era. Unlike the comical horror parody, Baldy's Basics in Education and Learning, released decades later, Bax's never-ending daycare was a chilling anomaly that flew under the radar. Despite its release, the game failed to garner much attention. It languished in obscurity until, by a stroke of fate, a man named Trevor stumbled upon a discarded copy-buried amidst crates labeled for destruction in a dingy warehouse in Birmingham. Intrigued by the obscure find, Trevor took the game home and installed it on his old Windows 95 PC. The game's icon, a simple yet eerie depiction of a house with red, yellow and cyan colors appeared on Trevor's desktop. With a click, Trevor was transported back to the 90s, to a time of innocence and excitement. The main menu appeared, with Comic-Chan's text-authoring options like Play Game, Load Game, Options and Leave Game. The background featured a crude 3D rendered house, followed by the title Bax's never-ending daycare, and the cheerful MIDI soundtrack, provided by the likes of Sound Blaster 16 and Microsoft Wavetable Synth, served as an eerie contrast for its intention. As Trevor clicked Play Game, he was thrust into a do-messed outdoor setting, complete with pine trees, a stone path leading to the daycare, and a feeling of nostalgia. Upon entering the daycare, he was met by Max, whose sprite was a 3D rendered anthropomorphic green rabbit with purple eyes, a yellow shirt, black pants and brown shoes. Max, with a peculiar British accent, says, Why hello there. It's great to see you at my daycare. Come on, there are plenty of enjoyable activities to do here. Intrigued, Trevor engaged in various in-game tasks, solving puzzles, coloring, arts and crafts, and even interacting with peculiar characters, like Tammy the Yellow Cat and Boris the Blue Nerdy Turtle. All sprites were 3D renders of themselves. However, the game took a dark turn when Trevor encountered a door labeled, Stay Away, in bold red comic sans. Compelled by curiosity, Trevor entered the door and was transported to a different game. His player was in a dark room of what looks to be a huge basement or loft with empty boxes and other source, and the textures were highly detailed, dull and realistic, extremely different from the colorful, bright and cartoony textures of the daycare. The lighting here in the game had a dark and dim setting, reminiscent of I'm Scared, a pixelated nightmare. Eerie ambient noises replaced the cheery soundtrack, adding to the growing in-ease. As Trevor explored further, he encountered a door marked with an eye and an X over its pupil. When entering, he found himself in an office space, devoid of life. Nineties CRT computers and office chairs filled the room, and the windows showed nothing but an abyss, devoid of any recognizable scenery, which amplifies the sense of isolation. Further exploration led Trevor to a door with a sign labeled, Enter with Caution, in bold times New Roman, a far cry from the generic comic sans thawnt from the one's cheerful game. This door led Trevor to an ad-horrent scene, a room dripping with blood, adorned with gruesome tools all over the place. Max and his friends hung on neat books, their mutilated bodies forms a grotesque spectacle. Polaroid photos of dismembered corpses littered the walls. A radio played a distorted version of the game's one-steerful theme tune, creating an eerie dissonance. As the music ended, a cacophony of distorted screams, ripping sounds, fire-crackling, espers, and maniacal laughter filled the room. The game glitched uncontrollably, and a sprite of a corrupted black-red figure began pursuing Trevor's player. Trevor desperately tried to escape room after room, each more grotesque and disturbing than the last, as the entity drew closer. Glitches multiplied, the game's fabric enravelled, and a malevolent force gained ground. Eventually, the entity overtook Trevor's player, causing the game to freeze with a jarring buzzing sound before abruptly closing. Back on the desktop, the game's shortcut had vanished. Stranger still, new files emerged in the System32 folder. As Trevor looked at the files, they contained a variety of not-safe-for-life images, videos, and audio clips that defied all boundaries of decency. All of them are gruesome scenes of abuse, cruelty, burn victims, dismemberment, and so much more. Attempts to delete these files were futile, as they were marked as read-only. We start in his computer, only to be met with a ghastly transformation. The desktop background turned into a flashy red texture, with the icons being replaced with gruesome imagery, and the once gray and white interface, such as the taskbar, turned a sickly dark red color. The computer's performance became painfully slow, so Trevor still had the opportunity to find the game and get rid of it. He even tried looking for it on the start menu, but to no avail. Then, he tried looking for it anywhere on the drive, but nowhere to be found. The computer's slowness and lagging began to get more severe after each unsuccessful search. Eventually, it got so bad that the computer crashed with a buzzing sound in the form of a loud blood-curdling scream. As the noise continued, it immediately showed the infamous blue screen of death. However, instead of the usual blue color, it was now a disgustingly blood-red texture, which makes it a lot worse. Even after, Trevor's computer shuts off with a snap, and smoke was emitted from the computer tower. He checked to see that the hard drive and every computer component had turned into ashes. Fearing for his sanity, Trevor reported the supposed CD-RUM to the authorities, providing them with evidence of his disturbing gameplay experience. The game was locked away in a vault, never to be touched again. Each night, Trevor was haunted by nightmares of the grotesque scenes he had witnessed. To this day, Max's never-ending daycare remains an enigma, a disturbing tale of a lost media among the edutainment and gaming communities. The creator of the game remained unknown, lost to the shadows of time. The game itself, a haunting testament to the dark side of the 90s edutainment era, faded into legend. The CD-RUM was never heard from again, a reminder that not all childhood memories are happy ones, and that sometimes the digital world can bring horrors beyond imagination. The CD-RUM was never heard from again. The game itself, a haunting testament to the dark side of the 90s edutainment era, faded into legend. The CD-RUM was never heard from again, a reminder that not all childhood memories are happy ones, and that sometimes the digital world can bring horrors beyond imagination. The CD-RUM was never heard from again. The CD-RUM was never heard from again. The CD-RUM was never heard from again.