Fun Fact. First Person POV is extremely hard for me to write. When I read or plan out stories, everything plays out like a movie in my head and it's difficult for me to translate those pictures into words, especially for first person perspective. I tried practicing while working on this storyline and it really gives a whiplash experience when reading this, so I do sincerely apologize if it's not the best.

Chapter 6

"Crap!"

I want to throw the tablet as I realize what I'm looking at.

My bag, in the dining room, where my stun gun is.

"No. No no no. I'm dead. I'm so so dead!"

I'm not going to make it home. I'm not strong enough for this.

I'm not Mike.

He gave me that to protect myself and like a doofus I just had to leave it where those monsters are roaming right now.

I put my equipment down on the table and fist my trembling hands into my bloody hoodie that's folded on my lap.

I can't do this.

Right?

But I have to.

I take a deep breath to calm the roaring in my ears and try to listen for any sign of the animatronics coming near me. Nothing. No groans or shuffling of heavy feet or creaking of rusted joints.

I slowly breathe out and move to flick on the left hall light. Nothing is standing in the door or window. I push my chair to the other side of the room and turn on the right hall light and see the same thing, nothing.

It's a relief considering how active Chica and Bonnie have been so far. When I finally got my nose to stop bleeding, Bonnie had been at the door, pawing at the metal surface of it. I could have sworn I heard a child crying when he did it, but I know they cleared the pizzeria out completely before I got here. It's been standard protocol since the initial murders. Chica hasn't been as bold to come near the office yet, but she's spent most of her time in the kitchen. The clattering of cooking equipment has been piercing my head for the last thirty minutes.

I settle back in front of the desk with another calming breath and pick the tablet back up. I groan as I see that I have a little under half power left and it's not even halfway through my shift, same power situation I was in last night.

I have to do this though.

"What the...?"

I lean in closer to look at the grainy feed.

On the camera footage is Freddy. He's lumbering through the dining hall. He didn't move once last shift, so why now?

His head swivels to look at the bag I left in my panic and I feel the blood drain from my face. I would try to convince myself that it's just a coincidence, that their heads move and stare off into the distance at different points throughout the night, but his blue eyes are zeroed in on my green sports mesh tote.

"No, not that," I desperately whisper to the cracked screen, willing Freddy to move on and leave my things alone. If he gets his paws on my stuff there's no telling if he'll destroy it or not.

Almost carefully, though, he pulls it open and peers inside.

I can feel myself beginning to sweat through my white t-shirt.

Then I hear it.

Thumping.

"S**t!" I forgot to check on Pirate's Cove!"

I throw the tablet on the table without a thought and dive for the left door's lock.

I'm too late.

I feel Foxy rush into me with what feels like the force of a freight train, knocking me back into the rolling chair and desk. My ears ring from his broken, static-filled screeching.

I can't even force out my own screams as I scramble to back up underneath my work desk, pushing myself up against the computer tower and filing cabinet.

I can hear my heart in my ears and feel the pulsing organ choking me from where it sits in my throat as I stare back at the massive mechanical fox that's looming over me. I can't calm my breathing. Everything feels like it's closing in on me, the metal cabinet in my upper arm, the shirt collar at my throat.

Foxy tries to take another step towards me, his hook stretching out near my leg.

I kick out. "Don't! Please!"

The room is growing bright. Shimmering light appears overtakes my vision as a sharp shooting pain rockets through my head.

It's too much.

Mike.

I need help.

Darkness swarms me, but I swear I can hear someone calling out to me as I let it swallow me.

I don't want to die.

Always try new things to improve yourself. It doesn't have to be a big thing and you don't have to be the best at it, but the experience you gain along the way is invaluable.

~Bless, Alpha