Foxy rocked back and forth slowly in an irregular pattern. When he came forward, his knees bent slightly, making it seem that he might fall down at any moment. I instinctively backed away, and to my surprise, Foxy seemed to notice.

His head jerked up unnaturally fast. His loose jaw came slightly unhinged, causing him to look very surprised, which might have been comical had I not been being stalked by him for almost thirty minutes. He lifted up an arm with a sharp metal hook at the end, and used it to close his malfunctioning jaw. Now he looked less silly than before, but much more menacing. I could feel his sharp, yellow eyes burning into mine like daggers; he was watching my every move very closely.

I took another step back, and he took another step forwards. His mutilated body creaked loudly every time he moved, and his jaw seemed to be slowly sliding down again. My heart was racing, I couldn't remember being this scared at any other point in my life. Another step back, and I'd run into the wall. I had to do something else, something that wouldn't hurt Foxy, but would encourage him to leave me alone and go back to Pirate's Cove where he belonged. He had to be there by 6 AM sharp, or else I'd get slapped with a huge fine for "tampering with the animatronics." What a joke. In just a few more days, this disgusting restaurant would be completely empty. What did it even matter to them if I destroyed one of their creaky old robots?

Then I remembered what I'd been helping with all week. He must have finally gotten a buyer on Craigslist or eBay. That was why Bonnie, Chica and Freddy were taken out of the restaurant so early, someone bought them for a ridiculous amount of money online, and judging by the amount of time it took to get those animatronics ready to ship, the manager probably just didn't have the chance to get to Foxy until much later. Go figure. In my mind, he would have definitely been the first one to go.

But no. There I was, staring down a partially decomposed robotic fox. A fox that looked ready to maul me if I hesitated any longer. I had to try something.

"Uh, I'm sorry Foxy... y-you have to go back behind your curtain. The restaurant is closed forever now. You'll be taken somewhere a lot nicer in the morning. Maybe a museum, or someone's garage. Just please Foxy. Please don't hurt me," at this point I could barely even breathe. My strange belief that the fox could even understand English was foolish at best, insanity at worst. Or it was just the result of completely frazzled nerves.

My only response was a little flicker from Foxy's freakish yellow eyes. I waited around for a minute or two, but Foxy remained perfectly still, just like a normal animatronic does when it's shut off. Apparently his motor was dead. Even the bright glow of his eyes was dimming. I was incredibly relieved.

But since Foxy had apparently shut down, that meant that I now had the task of picking him up and putting him back where he belonged. Being a burly guy, this was no trouble at all, and despite looking really heavy, Foxy was pretty light. Probably the result of being broken and tattered.

I grabbed him by the waist, then lifted him off the ground. Predictably, his jaw came unhinged again. I made careful note of his sharp-looking teeth that kept swinging my way as his head moved back and forth with every step I took.

Normally, moving through the dining room was a challenge because of how cluttered it was. Long tables and a multitude of colorful chairs were scattered all over the place earlier in the week, but now, it was completely empty; save for the big stage in the corner of a room and a mural on the opposite side, with an arrow that read "Pirate's Cove" and pointed towards a long, dark hallway. Traveling these desolate halls used to be terrifying at night, but after they took away Freddy and his bandmates, the lights stay on much, much longer now, so no more tripping over wires or boxes in the dark anymore.

After a short walk, I had arrived at my destination, Pirate's Cove. I set Foxy down beside me and pulled back the curtain. There used to be a fake island set in there. It was nothing fancy, just a bit of sand, a palm tree and a treasure chest that contained plastic gold coins and jewels which were glued in to prevent theft. Now, all that's left is the faded purple curtain. It always struck me as an odd decorative choice. I know it was a part of the theming, but purple curtains and stars didn't remind me of piracy, maybe a tacky strip club, if anything.

I chucked a bit as I hoisted Foxy up onto his stage, the thought of him poledancing at a kid's birthday was utterly hilarious. I carefully positioned him in his default stance, with his hook raised up in the air, his jaw shut and his eyepatch on.

As I stood before him, I realized that I kinda felt bad for the guy. All decrepit and falling apart. Left alone in a remote area of the restaurant that no one was even allowed to go near.

Maybe I really was turning insane, but for whatever reason, I spoke to Foxy again. This time, with sympathy in my voice, rather than fear.

"I hope you get sent to a better place, Foxy. You really deserved better than this."

I sighed and shut the curtain. I was a little upset. Mostly at myself for talking to a robotic fox who wasn't even alive, but also at the company. The sorry state of the Foxy animatronic was their fault entirely. If they just weren't so damn cheap, then he would have been fixed years ago, or at the very least put out of his misery.

I know, I was crazy for talking to an animatronic fox, but damn, it was just so sad to look at what he had become. I had a vague recollection of having a few parties there when I was a kid, and Foxy was the most popular animatronic by far, but somewhere along the the line, something happened. They closed off his area and just left him there, for what I could only see as no reason at all.

I adjusted my hat and turned around. Before I could even take a single step, I heard a voice. A deep, crackly voice that sounded like a stereotypical pirate speaking through a drive-through speaker. It was a somber voice. Immediately, I realized who it belonged to, and who it was addressing. My insides froze up, and a chill ran down my spine.

"Yarr, me too, matey..."

I was too afraid to turn around. Foxy had gained conciousness again, and possibly even sentience. My throat had gone so dry, so even if I wanted to scream I wouldn't have been able to. A minute or so passed, and the voice spoke again.

"It's alright, matey. Foxy won't hurt ye."

I closed my eyes tight and spun around. If I was dreaming, I would know when I reopened them. I eased my eyelids open, and to my horror, I wasn't laying in bed, I was staring at Foxy again, and he was staring back, his head poking through the curtains. His eyes were lit up, and his jaw was dangling down off its hinges like before. His eyepatch lifted up, and I noticed him extending a single metal leg from the shadows, which he gently placed on the ground. The other one followed suit, and soon Foxy had climbed off his stage yet again, but I was too scared of him to be annoyed. I always knew that the animatronics were weird, but not that weird. Not weird enough to fully comprehend the English language!

I turned around and started to run, I would probably get fired if Foxy wasn't back in Pirate Cove when 6 AM finally came, but I didn't care. All I knew was I needed to find a way out of there, and fast. Either I was hallucinating, or the fox really was alive. Just before I could round the corner and make my way back into the dining area, I tripped over a thick, black cable that was strewn across the floor. Of course, that always happens, doesn't it?

I scrambled to get back on my feet, but I felt something pulling me back. I looked behind me and saw Foxy again, his hook snagged on the cuff of my jeans. For as weak as he looked, Foxy was surprisingly strong. I pulled and pulled, but it was no use. The fox had me. I gave up and let him drag me back into Pirate's Cove. Maybe, if I saved my energy, I could run back and actually pay attention to where I was running this time, instead of tripping over a stupid power cable.

Foxy let go of me once I was in front of Pirate's Cove again, and I heard his chilling robotic voice speak to me with the same somber tone, "There's no need to be runnin' away lad. I told ye I'm not going to hurt ye, and I meant it. I feel no desire to fix you."

Fix me? I unsteadily raised myself up again, this time I might as well hang around a bit and wait to see what the fox wanted.

"Foxy... How are you understanding me?"

"I may be made of metal and fabric, but me ears work just as well as yours matey. Over the years I've learned to understand what you fleshbags call "English," it's not that hard once ye hear it every single day."

Made sense to me. "So, why are you talking to me all of a sudden Foxy?"

"I've known you since ya' were a just a wee lad. Tell me, what's your name, sailor?"

"Daniel... M-my name is Daniel," I somehow managed to squeak out.

"Ah, that's right!" Foxy lifted up his hook for emphasis, "Summer of '85. You were turnin' 11 weren't ya, lad? Got to see me and my friends walkin' around before they bolted 'em to the floor and keelhauled me back into the shadows fer good."

Memories flooded my head. Somehow, Foxy remembered that I'd had my 11th birthday at Freddy's. I remembered him and the band getting off the stage to interact with me and my friends. But, for the life of me I couldn't remember why they stopped doing it. Attendance dropped after my 12th birthday for some reason, and I also had no memory of seeing Foxy after that. I was tempted to ask the animatronic a question about it, but the fear was still in the back of my head.

Foxy's jaw became more unhinged, and he fixed it with his hook again. He gazed upwards at the shiny paper stars dangling from a the ceiling, the same way that a kitten stares at string. Was he taking one good look at his surroundings again before he was evicted? Foxy turned his attention towards me again, and started playing with his hook with his other hand, twirling it around nonchalantly, as if expecting me to say something to him.

"Ya know, believe it or not, this hook's a lot sturdier than this here robot hand. Nearly lost me metal fingers a coupla' times after they stopped fixin' me. After the... accident," Foxy closed his jaw yet again and looked away. It was as if he regretted mentioning it now.

"Wha-what accident was that, F-foxy?" I was beginning to stutter again. Accidents are never good things, and judging by the condition poor Foxy was in right now, it'd have to have been something really, really bad.

Foxy cocked his head a little. His eyes flickered again. Was I being impolite by asking about it?

"Ya alright, lad? Perhaps you'd like to sit down, eh? I'll be right back."

Foxy turned around and slowly walked behind his stage. He rummaged around a bit, and came out holding a metal folding chair in his hook.

"Mind giving this old fox a hand?

Of course I came over and helped him unfold it. When a creepy robot fox with a hook for a hand and a mouth full of teeth tells you to do something, you don't say no.

"There ya go, have a seat Danny. I know me appearance can be intimidatin', but just as long as you sit and listen to me old tales, I'll let you live. They took out all the empty suits anyway. Nothin's here anymore 'cept me, you and that folding chair."

"I'm sorry Foxy. If it was me, I would have fixed you a long time ago. Surely the accident couldn't have been that bad, could it?"

"Ah, it ain't yer fault matey, tis mine. I'm the one that ruined the restaurant. That's why Freddy hates me, and that's why we stopped comin' off the stages during the day. I hurt someone by accident."

"What did you do exactly?"

"It was in November of 1987. A girl and her family were celebratin' her birthday. Everything was going great, I even got their dad to dance with me. And then... I don't know. I just broke. I fell forward. Cut the man's head wide open. Took out a piece of brain. The girls were shocked, everyone was. They hauled me backstage and got the blood and brain out of me mouth. Then they just left me there for days. At night Freddy, Bonnie and Chica would bang on the door and scream at me. I just wanted to turn off and die."

"You... cut his head open? A-are you sure it was just an accident?" I scooted my chair back a few inches. Suddenly the decision to get rid of floor characters made perfect sense.

"Yes, matey! The company wasn't takin' good care of old Foxy at the time. Eventually, they pulled me out again. Had to go in a big courtroom and get hit with foam baseball bats, and get mercilessly beaten by one metal one. Of course, the whole "not falling down no matter what" mechanism only works when it's maintained. When I bit the man it wasn't, but before I went to court it suddenly was. Stinkin' bilge rat owners. They dumped me and left me to rot back here like I'm scrap metal. But I'm okay now. Just wanted to talk with someone before they ship me off to wherever."

"Well..." I glance at the clock on the wall: 1:16 AM. "I've got time. Can you tell me some more about your life at Freddy's?"

"Aye. But me life didn't start here, I've been in other places before. Get comfortable Danny, this is gonna' be a long night."