(A/N) WARNING: This story contains graphic violence and murder. It delves into the deepest dark of insanity. This story is the most disturbing I've written so far. If you don't deal well with descriptions of murder or hallucinations, do not read this story. You have been warned.
Phone Guy POV
"Hey, Vincent! What's wrong?" I asked, bouncing a basketball off the floor, starting the recording for the nightguard's next night. He grunted, and sunk further into his chair across from me. I typed in the phone's number, and pressed call. It rang a few times, and then went to voicemail. I started recording the message. "Hello, hello! Wow, day four, didn't think you could do it. Hey, I may not be able to get you a message tomorrow," I heard Vincent banging around in the back room, and paused before continuing. "It's been a bad night here, for me, and I'm kind of glad I recorded these messages-" I heard more banging, and put a hand over the phone before shouting, "Vincent! Shut up! I'm on the phone!" I grumbled for a few seconds, then continued the message. "Hey, could you do me a favor? Maybe sometime you could check inside those suits in the backroom. Try to hold out until someone checks, maybe it wont be so bad. I always wondered what was in all those empty heads..." I stumbled to a stop as music started playing. "Oh no..." I whispered and turned around to see The Puppet jumping at me, it's arms extended. The last thing I saw before being stuffed into a spare Freddy suit was Vincent standing behind the puppet, smiling.