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“They put this thing in a fuckin’ kid’s restaurant?” Jerome muttered, pulling the brim of his cap over his brow as he leered at the grotesque animatronic bear standing lifelessly before him.

Even in its dead, unmoving state, the robot seemed to stare back with glass eyes.

It gave him the willies.

“I guess it was...” He then trailed off, stopping to briefly sniff at the animatronic before grimacing slightly, “cleaner in its hey-day, but I mean...still.”

He couldn’t help but steal a glance at the all-too-realistic - all too human - teeth lining the ursine maw of the furry mascot.

Ugh. He was demanding a raise just for having to look at this thing for as long as he had to.

Studying the matted, greasy fur and dull, unblinking eyes of the aged animatronic for a few moments longer, Jerome then let out a world-weary sigh and glanced at his watch.

12:09. Whoops.

He’d missed out on 9 minutes of Jerome-time that could’ve been spent lounging around doing nothing in a plush leather seat, all due to this stinkin’ bear.
He lightly punched the ugly thing good-humouredly, before quickly spinning on his heel and beginning to make his way to his offi-

Whirring. Mechanical in nature, certainly - with underlying groans of duress and strain, as if moving an intense weight.

Right behind him.

Jerome’s eyes widened, but he dared not turn around once more.
He’d never been the type to believe in all that paranormal nonsense or ‘machine uprising’ Luddite crap, but he had a rather prominent suspicion of just what was happening only a meter or so back from where he had currently frozen in place.

It felt as though cold claws were raking into his stomach from the fear coursing through him, the feeling only heightening as his instincts told him that there was now something threatening standing only a hair’s breadth away.

A stuttery, emotionless voice echoed through the dark, empty building, laced with a tinny undertone.

“Violence is never the answer, kiddo.”

Jerome was finally in control of his body again, whirling around in horror.

If only Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza were still in business.

Maybe then somebody would’ve heard him scream.

Description
“They put this thing in a fuckin’ kid’s restaurant?” Jerome muttered, pulling the brim of his cap over his brow as he leered at the grotesque animatronic bear standing lifelessly before him.

Even in its dead, unmoving state, the robot seemed to stare back with glass eyes.

It gave him the willies.

“I guess it was...” He then trailed off, stopping to briefly sniff at the animatronic before grimacing slightly, “cleaner in its hey-day, but I mean...still.”

He couldn’t help but steal a glance at the all-too-realistic - all too human - teeth lining the ursine maw of the furry mascot.

Ugh. He was demanding a raise just for having to look at this thing for as long as he had to.

Studying the matted, greasy fur and dull, unblinking eyes of the aged animatronic for a few moments longer, Jerome then let out a world-weary sigh and glanced at his watch.

12:09. Whoops.

He’d missed out on 9 minutes of Jerome-time that could’ve been spent lounging around doing nothing in a plush leather seat, all due to this stinkin’ bear.
He lightly punched the ugly thing good-humouredly, before quickly spinning on his heel and beginning to make his way to his offi-

Whirring. Mechanical in nature, certainly - with underlying groans of duress and strain, as if moving an intense weight.

Right behind him.

Jerome’s eyes widened, but he dared not turn around once more.
He’d never been the type to believe in all that paranormal nonsense or ‘machine uprising’ Luddite crap, but he had a rather prominent suspicion of just what was happening only a meter or so back from where he had currently frozen in place.

It felt as though cold claws were raking into his stomach from the fear coursing through him, the feeling only heightening as his instincts told him that there was now something threatening standing only a hair’s breadth away.

A stuttery, emotionless voice echoed through the dark, empty building, laced with a tinny undertone.

“Violence is never the answer, kiddo.”

Jerome was finally in control of his body again, whirling around in horror.

If only Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza were still in business.

Maybe then somebody would’ve heard him scream.