Maybe we ain't the monsters ye all think we are. Maybe deep down, we have feelin's and hearts and shit. Maybe, if ye'd just let us in, we could show ya how wrong ye are about all of us.

Of course... then ye'd be dead.

Foxy stepped closer. His peg-leg creaked and groaned as if it would snap in two, and his eyes twitched spastically to and fro as he approached the shivering security-guard.

I'm not going to sugar-coat it for ye, land-lubber. We're monsters. Plain and simple.

The animatronic animal brought his hook-hand to the human's chin and scraped along the skin. Blood dripped from the fresh cut and stained the rust-colored hook scarlet. The man called Mike Schmidt whimpered and felt tears form in his eyes.

Aye. That's good, that's good. I love it when they cower.

The end was near, and Foxy could smell it in the air. He paused and took a moment to lock the doors, so that Freddy and the others could only watch as he had his fun. The Fazbear-crew had always thought that Foxy was a greedy pirate, and they were absolutely right.

Now we got the place ALL to ourselves, Mike. It's just you, me, and the sea.

The rust-red fox clattered forward and locked his good, claw-like hand around Mike's throat. Trachea snapping. Blood spurting. Euphoria building.

Did ye know that fear's got a smell, Mike?

Steely talons dug and burrowed under the skin. Gored through flesh. Mike could only choke and gasp as the taste of copper invaded his mouth. Blood poured over his lips and teeth as he fought to survive. Fought in vain.

Do ye know what fear smells like, Mike?

Foxy took a deep, mechanical breath through his nostrils. His body shuddered and rattled as he exhaled oil-and-grease-warped gas into Mike's paling face. The iron knuckles of the robot's hand broke through bone.

It smells fucking delicious.

The pirate cackled with wicked glee as he stabbed his hook through the dying guard's skull and yanked with all of his might. With a gruesome tearing noise, Mike Schmidt's head was ripped off of his body. His neck a bloody stump. His corpse a twitching nothing.

Foxy grinned at the dead man's face with a mouthful of jagged teeth like daggers. Bloodstained and crooked from years of gnawing and chewing.

Ye died so fast, mate. It's goddamned miracle ye even lasted this long.

But even as he said these things, Foxy was already watering at the mouth from anticipation. He unhinged his jaw and displayed his full set of fangs, and his glowing, ghostly eyes widened and rolled into his head as he shoved the human skull into his maw. Blood spurted and sputtered. The crunch was deafening. The taste was to die for.

Oh... oh, hell yeah. That tastes so fucking good!

Foxy's ears rang with the sound of fists pounding against the doors, fingers tapping at the windows, but he didn't care. Freddy might've been leader, but leadership meant nothing to someone as hungry as Foxy the pirate.

He snarled at the doors as he chewed, spilling bits and chunks of greymatter and bone across the floor. Foxy made sure to lick the floor clean of blood before he was done. The animatronic pirate picked his teeth clean with his hook, and then moved on to the rest of the body. Sometimes he wished he didn't eat so fast. Sometimes he wished he'd saved the head for last, because it was the best part. And sometimes, he wished that he hadn't eaten that child's face all those years ago.

But then, Foxy would shrug the feeling off.

It was so fucking worth it.