Hey.
Do you remember me?
If you saw me, you would.
I was a regular. My family and I visited every Friday.
'Freddy Friday.' God, I miss that...
Almost every time we arrived, it was your shift. Eventually, we started talking. My family and I became friends with you.
You gave me tips on how to beat the arcade games. You became Player 2 when my Dad didn't want to play. You laughed at my mom's awful puns and talked to my Dad about work. You stopped me from getting hurt on the playset. You saved me when a couple of older kids wouldn't leave me alone.
You gave me a nickname. You called me 'Kiddo'. I don't really remember you ever calling me by my actual name. Only 'Kiddo'. A co-worker of yours told me that you were usually very quiet. I was the first kid you'd been friendly to in a long time.
So let me ask you something: Why? Why me? Why them?
I trusted you. I was Kiddo.
What made you snap?
What made you think seeing blood on your hands was the biggest thrill life could give?
What made you think that killing me and countless other children was worth it?
You were able to run from the police. But you will never be able to run from me. I will follow you. I will make your life miserable.
I'm not going to make you regret your actions. You're too far gone to feel anything. And I'm okay with that. But as long as I regret meeting you, as long as I regret not being able to save your other victims, I will fill these hallways with screams and blood. I will ruin your life like you ruined mine until the day you die. And when you do die...
There will be hell to pay.
I hate the night guards of this hellhole. I hate people like you. I hate you.
Before I go... Don't refer to me as that stupid nickname anymore. I'm not 'Kiddo' anymore.
You're broken.
We are still your friends.
Do you still believe that?
I'm still here.
I will put you back together.
...
I won't let anything happen to you.
I promise.
...
Kiddo.