Chapter Text
It was a tranquil night in the city of Syracuse; a sentence that most would never even begin to consider applying to any part of New York state, but you often found yourself thinking it quite often as of late. Perhaps you were simply too comfortable with the madness that occurred on the daily, watching the havoc descend gingerly into a hibernating beast as winter approached at breakneck speeds.
Such was the beauty about creatures like that; they store their energy through the taxing cold so that they might achieve peak destructive efficiency upon the dawning of the solstice—but it was as serene as the wild-hearted city could be. Its peacefulness still managed to be disruptive, but even then, the earth itself really never did sleep.
The wind whistled beyond the shield of your windows, howling against the glass like a dog begging to be let inside, relieved of the chill that raged outdoors.
Lights beamed from the windows of several rooms in skyscrapers, hotels, and apartment complexes—some with bright neon colors. The soft hum of music made its way up through your floor, though it didn't bother you. Cars whizzed along the freeway, lampposts and headlights blinking about as they made turns and weaved through the lanes.
From the lovesick eye, you could easily romanticize it. The deep thrum of a sonorous bass and gentle illumination of LEDs were evidence of the fun and joy that sparked between people, forming the start of bonds that could last beyond life. The way that all the headlights of automobiles and other motor vehicles faded in and out between the divisions made it seem as if they were all dancing with one another, synchronized in the flow of traffic and communicating through signals that the road laid out for them, stopping at crosswalks as individuals, families, and couples hurried their way across while clinging tightly to one another.
You couldn’t recall a time when you were this happy—although life wasn't always this glorious for you.
You attended State University of New York with a major in computer science and a focus in software engineering. It had been your lifelong dream to become a game developer, and that wasn’t an exaggeration. You had an odd infatuation with video games ever since you first started playing Legend of Zelda on the Wii. You took forever to finish any game you were gifted, spending most of your time running about and admiring the graphics, sound design, and all the smallest details you could find. Easter eggs always blew your little mind.
When you came of age and hugged your parents and little sister goodbye, you found out that college life was simply hell, and barely scraped by in the top ten percent of your class. Your roommate frequently came home past midnight and would drunkenly rifle through your side of the fridge, you wholeheartedly forgot how to add and subtract in the week prior to finals, and your wallet was drier than the Mojave.
You left graduation with your doctorate and a bouquet from your professor, and that was the last nice thing you had to your name.
In the following months, you were stuck in an unhealthy cycle of poverty. Living paycheck-to-paycheck, having to sell your car, living in a hostel, working triple jobs—it was horrible. You were completely drained of any mental stability, rarely getting any sleep and needing to work overtime and graveyard shifts on weekends. It was when you were waiting at the underground metro that your thousand-yard stare caught the eye of a bystander. He had asked if you were doing alright, a bit concerned due to your horrifically disheveled appearance, and that rubber band within you—stretched far past its limits—finally snapped.
You had never been so humiliated in your life, sitting with him on the train and sobbing your heart out as he patted your shoulder as comfortingly as he could—but you couldn’t stop. Nearly a year of this self-torture and this man was the first shoulder you could cry on since you moved away from your parents. He mentioned that he worked in a similar field to yours, and offered to land you some interviews with different companies that needed positions that met your criteria.
Fast forward three years later, he's your coworker at the best gaming company in Syracuse—North Shoreline Development Studios.
Now you were back on your feet and even better than before; you spilled yourself with a beautiful 2020 Aston Martin DB11 Volante Convertible, and stabilized yourself enough to buy full ownership over the top of a luxury apartment complex that overlooked the city. And to top it all off—your best friend since grade school had surprised you by moving into the city with you and opening a cafe. With everything you ever could have wanted, nothing could be better.
Save for your new 4-month-old puppy’s behavior.
“Ella, let go!” You scolded, tugging the hood of a sweater out of her mouth, “That’s not a toy!”
She yipped, tail wagging so hard that her lanky body swayed with it. Hushing her before you got another noise complaint from your downstairs neighbors, you quickly scooped her into your arms—turning your head to the side as she furiously licked at your jawline.
“No,” you reprimanded, gently pushing her snout away from your face. “It’s not playtime.”
She whined and stopped wriggling, seeming to understand the stern tone in your denial. She looked up at you with a pouty side-glare as you laid her down on the bed, the yellowish hues of her iris contrasting with her black fur. She grunted in annoyance before moving her head to face the other way.
Grabbing the sides of her fuzzy face from behind, you leaned forward and planted a kiss on the top of her soft head. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” You couldn’t stay mad at her—even if she did tear a new set of holes in your hoodie. Snuggling up next to her under the covers, you grabbed the iPad from your nightstand to get some work done before bed.
You were the designated video game tester for the company. It wasn’t what you were hoping to be, as you had studied for coding and development of the game—but there was a surplus of developers in their department and they didn’t want to lose you to a competitor. As much as you strived for a promotion, you didn’t mind your current position. Video Game testing required immersion, and it was quite the status. You needed a specific level of skill in coding, animation, story development, and you had to have an eye for catching flaws in audio, visuals, and programming. You were quite popular with the departments as well, being one of only three testers in the establishment. Sometimes, the designers would ask you to sketch up the concept for a character—saying that they needed a fresh set of eyes to see the ‘creative potential’, though most of the time it was because they didn’t have the time or patience to do it themselves. In return, they would sometimes let you voice a few lines of dialogue, or give you the entire script for a character. Your favorite part was when the company got interns, and you were assigned to spectate their progress. They reminded you of yourself, and how you started out. Oh, you were terrified.
The idea of going up to the owner and telling her what your skills were, how you would improve in the production and publishing of games, and how you would help better the work ethic of the company—all of that seemed impossible. The owner was quite terrifying—her name translated to 'butcher', for crying out loud. Yet, even if Mrs. Mäsiar was very intimidating, she was also very kind. She was extremely compassionate and wholehearted when it came to her work, always taking the time to make sure her employees were all doing their best work in the best conditions. The workplace itself was shaped by all of her workers, every single one making a part of it their second home. You loved the people you worked with.
Even with how difficult it all seemed, you managed to succeed. It always amazed you how much you changed since you first applied to the company. You were no longer that confused little girl, running into walls and scared of her own shadow. It was almost painful to try and imagine what your life would’ve been like if you hadn’t been hired.
A cold nose nudged your arm, pulling you from your trip down memory lane. Ella was annoyed that you had stopped petting her. You smiled, ruffling the fur of her neck as you continued to scratch behind her ears, turning back to your iPad that had turned off. Upon unlocking it, you remembered what you were doing. You had gotten a bit sick from the late fall weather of the city and were working from home at the moment, so you were analyzing 3D models of the newest clothing concepts designed by the college interns. Grabbing your stylus, you began rotating the sculptures, keeping an eye out for any errors while comparing them to the sketches that your boss had lent to you.
You spent a good amount of time reviewing the various files and wrote an email reporting on what you had noticed that could be improved or modified slightly. Ella had fallen asleep while curled up at your waist, her black fur shedding all over your white sheets. You made a mental note to get a hair roller the next time you were at the store.
Pressing ‘send’ on the email, you looked over to your clock.
9:34
Not too late to play a few games before bed.
You threw off the covers, waking up Ella in the process, and made your way over to the spare room you had designated your gaming den. When it came to testing, you were given prototypes and models of new gear to make sure that games were compatible with the systems, and ensure that the machines worked as intended before being put on the market. You were one of the lucky few who got to keep said machines after evaluations.
The room had an 86-inch television mounted above the ground, and various consoles attached to it—that of including a VR walker. On the opposite wall, there was a flight/racing simulator cockpit setup with a single computer screen—and while it was pretty cool, it was also a bit useless. There weren’t many games that could be used on it. Your eyes wandered over to the Imperatorworks chair that peeked out beyond the corner of a nook you hid it in.
No. You didn’t care how secure it was. There was no way you were going to risk the chances of that monstrosity falling apart on top of you.
It wasn’t hard to decide on your trusty computer setup seated by the full-length window, the empty chair practically begging you to come sit down and boot up the system. And that is exactly what you did. Snuggling yourself into the large blanket that had previously been laying on the carpet, you kicked up the recliner and crossed your legs, Ella hopping up and plopping herself into your lap. She was outgrowing the acceptable lapdog size, but she was adorable, so it was fine for the time being.
After playing a little session of tug-of-war with Ella to get your blanket out of her mouth, you logged into your PC and jumped through various games. You spent a good few hours checking on your Sims, tending to farms in Minecraft and Terraria, sweeping through objectives in Fallout and Destiny, causing mischief in Borderlands and Assassin's Creed—you know, the good stuff. But in the end, you yearned for something a bit more low-maintenance and straight to the point and settled for some good ol' Five Nights at Freddy's.
You had completed all of the published Five Nights games and spin-offs, but it was still pleasantly nostalgic to go back and play them again every once in a while. You were looking forward to being able to test out "Help Wanted" on the new virtual reality console that was set to be released by the next month.
A bit giddily, you raised each of the animatronic difficulty levels to 20 points, suddenly feeling up for a challenge. Ironically, you started right as the clock hit midnight, and once you began, your fingers went to work. You swiftly checked the left hall for Bonnie before closing the right door, briefly bringing the tablet up to check on pirate's cove before putting it down, opening the door, and repeating the cycle. They were moving fast.
A short while later, they were all crowding around your office doors, ready to pounce at any given moment of your inconvenience. Bonnie lurked around the corner, Foxy was ready to sprint down the hall, Chica stood eerily under the lamp of the East hall, and Freddy stared dead-on into the singular glass eye of the 4B camera.
The suspense was high. You were moving frantically, eyes darting all about the screen, your breathing halting at infrequent intervals to hear the characters' movements better. Yet not a single one of them made any further progression.
Something was off.
Your session was going on for far longer than it should have, the simulated hours moving too slowly to be normal—it seemed as if they were playing in real-time.
If that was the case, why hadn't you died yet?
The animatronics were all acting weird. It wasn't in the game's programming for them to just stand around like that. Of course, it was meant to be scary, but not like this.
The hours just continued to tick by, leaving your heart pounding, anxious for something to happen—yet nothing did.
You didn't know how long you had been sitting there, palms collecting sweat over your mouse and keyboard, but you weren't willing to break your attention away from your situation to check.
This was all so wrong. So horrifyingly abnormal.
You felt trapped.
The 6 AM bell rang out.
Finally.
The cheering and the chimes sounded all too...real. It didn't just come through your headphones. It reverberated through your entire body, resonating from every side and angle.
Ella, who had been snoozing peacefully in your lap had abruptly woken up, feeling a strong sense of discomfort within the space of the room—her golden eyes flickering in search for the source.
You coughed, suddenly feeling like the air was stuck in your throat. Your nose began to feel runny as you did, and you moved your hand to catch the liquid that dripped from your nostril.
Looking down, your palm was stained red.
Breathless, you turned to look out through the window behind you, staring into your reflection as your hand collected blood. You began to lose concentration on your image as something else came into view, stealing the eye of your focus. Five pairs of white eye-like lights surrounded your head like a halo, never shifting or blinking. You tried to console your shaking nerves, just barely managing to convince yourself that they were only room lights coming from the windows of the building across from you in an uncanny arrangement. It was late, you had been staring strictly at a computer screen for the past six hours—your vision wasn't the best at the moment. That factor must've malformed the lights when they came into your line of sight.
You were full of uncertainty, confusion, and questions—yet you had no possible remedy to any of your ailments. But there was one thing that you knew for sure.
For the first time since you played this game so many years ago—
You were scared.
The rest of the morning was odd, at best. You were in a constant state of paranoia for a reason you didn't know of, and it threw you off. Surprisingly, you weren't tired at all—which didn't make sense, seeing as you hadn't slept at all the night before. Your body was too focused on neuroticism to allow exhaust any room to hinder you.
Brushing your teeth, showering, getting dressed, working out—it all felt so eerie and unnatural. Even sitting down to clock in and get work done got disturbing. You just couldn't help but feel as if you had eyes on you at all times. But you knew that it was only a game, and a horror type nonetheless. They're meant to scare you. You were just being paranoid, is all. There was a mere possibility that what you experienced last night was just a very strange, and very rare hidden feature that Scott added late into the success of the game. And as for your nosebleed, you were sick with something and the air was dry and cold. A bleeding nose is nothing out of the ordinary.
Yeah. That was it, for sure. You totally weren't being haunted and hunted down by the vengeful souls of dead children.
As bothered as you were by this, you decided to let yourself forget about it for the moment and figure it out later. You were tired. Yawning, your shoulders and spine rounded as you physically felt yourself relax, a deep sigh escaping your lungs. Head held higher and nerves easing up on the tension that paranoia had gifted them, there was now room for overwhelming exhaustion to settle in.
Your eyelids acted like they weighed two cars each, with your lashes adding on a good half-ton alongside your agony. It honestly hurt to open them. You tugged on Ella's leash and made a beeline to the nearest coffee shop that you could find before your legs gave out beneath you, which just so happened to be The Nook, a café owned and run by a very old friend of yours.
Standing before the dark stained glass doors, you snatched Ella from the pavement, her legs going board-stiff and tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth as she was raised from the ground—adorable, as always. Using your free hand to pull open the door, you could've cried at the smell of that bittersweet bean juice you craved so dearly. It was almost enough to wake you up right then and there.
Very drowsily, you had barely managed to drag yourself to the front counter, lazily slumping against the glass of the pastry display case. It didn't take very long for the kitchen door to swing open and reveal a familiar purple-haired woman wearing a black thigh-length apron with a seamless golden marble pattern on it.
She turned to face you, having pushed the door open with her back, pausing to blink a few times.
"Is that a dog?"
"Good evening to you too, Zeph."
Zephyr and yourself went way back, having first met in the fifth-grade band auditions. You clicked instantly and were friends ever since. Most would find it strange, or even a little obsessive, that the two of you remained in such close contact after twelve years—but it was just one of those things that you couldn't bother to care about.
"C'mere," Zephyr mumbled, reaching over the tabletop and lovingly scratching the pup behind the ears, her cognac eyes glossed over with adoration. Fatigued, you simply handed the dog over for her to hold.
"Meet Ella."
"Ella, huh? You get that one from another one of your nerd books, too?" She teased, nuzzling into her thick-coated scruff.
You scoffed with a laugh. She wasn't wrong, though. You had named your new pet after one of Charlie's dolls in The Silver Eyes, having found it a very darling label.
Zephyr chuckled lightly and shook her head, sparing you a glance. She returned with a double-take, brows now furrowed and eyes widened, focused on you entirely. Ella kicked at her hand, urging her to keep rubbing her belly.
"Oh, my goodness—honey, what happened? You look terrible!"
"I feel terrible," you moaned, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your palms, "surprised you didn't notice when I first walked in."
"My attention went straight to the dog." Because what are best friends for?
You grumbled incoherently and laid your face against the display window.
"Alright, get up." Zephyr swept away her short lilac curtain bangs and shoved Ella into your arms, effectively forcing you upright. "White Urus with rose rims. Can't miss it."
"Zeph, hold on—"
She hummed a tone of denial. "I don't want to hear it. Go."
Her car keys were dropped into the palm of your open hand, a cute little pineapple charm holding the keychain together. She turned around to address the dirty-blonde teen boy coming from the kitchen.
"Andrew, could you cover for me while I'm gone? I need to take my friend home."
Nervously, the boy straightened. "Yes, ma'am!"
"Thank you, sweetie," Zephyr snickered, "and make sure to wipe down the pastry display, I think someone drooled on it."
Shooting her a glare, you adjusted your hold on Ella and walked outside with your friend.
"Don't you need to work?" You sneered, just wanting a coffee.
"Don't you need to sleep?" She retorted, matching your energy, "I own this place. What am I gonna do, dock my own paycheck? Plus, it's giving the newbie some experience with customers. Just stay put, I’ll be right back."
Zephyr's car unlocked automatically, the proximity feature activating when you tugged on the door handle—but only you got in, as Zephyr went to the back to grab something from her bag in the trunk. Reaching over the center console, you pressed the car’s power button so you could turn on the seat heaters and snuggle into the white leather as you waited. Instead of being on the driver's side, as you expected, she opened your door and threw a small card at you, stopping to ruffle Ella's fur before moving aside.
"Found this at my place. Figured you left it there the other night."
You caught it haphazardly with both hands, fumbling not to drop it before simply humming in acknowledgment, not having enough energy to form a proper response. In truth, you didn't recognize the card. It was blank, black, and had transparent green corner guards. It could've just been a weird-looking gift card that you did leave at Zephyr's house, but you couldn't remember. Maybe you'd recognize it when you were well-rested and not relying on the warmth of the sun for energy like a crappy solar-powered battery.
“I know you’ve been sick lately, why are you walking all the way to my store without a jacket on?” Zephyr asked, pulling out of the parking lot. You said nothing, eyes drifting in and out of focus.
She called your name, noticing your unresponsiveness, “Hey, you with me? Babes?”
The woman was met with snoring.
The memory of driving home and going inside was all hazy, but after hours had passed, you found yourself wakening with your head resting on the warm, fleshy pillow that was slowly rising and falling beneath your face. Your ears were ringing slightly, the earliest sign of a migraine beginning to fade. Had you slept with a headache? You nuzzled further into the 'pillow', stray fingers carding through the silk of your unkempt hair, gently rousing you from the depths of sleep. Groaning, you weakly opened your blurry eyes to observe your surroundings, noticing that you were in your bed, clinging to Zephyr who was watching some movie you couldn’t recognize on your TV.
"You can really sleep, y'know that?"
You picked your head up, groggily blinking at her. You were so confused.
"You got a message a while ago. I didn’t look to see who it was, though.” She tossed your phone at you as she sat up.
You lethargically opened your phone and navigated through your notifications to find the said message, and eventually found a missed call in your inbox and a text sent out to your company group chat.
Hello team! For anyone who has not been informed, development will be postponed until further notice due to our company’s winning a place in the awards ceremony for best game of the year. I am very proud of you all! The head development team and I will by flying out to Austria for the awards tomorrow, so for those not traveling with us, take this as a well-deserved holiday and enjoy your paid time off with your families. I will be notifying our return two weeks prior. Keep up the amazing work so we can win again next year!
You hummed in tired interest as you read the verbose message, eyes blurring some words together. You laid your head down on a pillow and shut your eyes once more.
"Anyway, enough about you,” Zephyr began as she rifled under your bed for your 'emergency' candy stash, emerging with a handful of kisses. “The Nook is gonna be closed for renovations for a couple days. We’re breaking ground to add in some more square-footage downstairs for storage, and I'll be turning that attic area we have into a loft. I’m not gonna allow any food up there to keep things sanitary, but it'll be a little relaxation spot.”
The brown-eyed woman paced the room as she popped chocolates into her mouth while explaining her vision to you. “I was thinking of putting in some desks and a skylight, maybe some blankets and a TV too. It’ll be a little study space since I get a lot of regulars that are in college… I think they’ll like it. Problem is, I don’t know whether to get hardwood floors or carpet. Thoughts?”
Zephyr turned her head down to look at you, waiting to hear your input on her verbal blueprint—but found you softly snoring once more. She rolled her eyes, grabbing a blanket from a nearby sofa to throw atop your body. She wondered what had kept you up that previous night, but it didn't take a genius to chalk it up to video games.
Throughout the night, you woke up a couple times during your long rest, but promptly went back to sleep when you didn’t feel well rested. It was dark when you woke up again for the last time. Only city lights filtered through your window, and your bedside alarm read that it was nearly two in the morning. Zephyr was sleeping like the dead with her ankles crossed and her hands laced together over her stomach, and Ella was knocked out in the crook of your knees, lightly barking and kicking in her sleep. You groaned and rubbed your eyes with your thumb and index finger as you sat up, digging crust out of the corners. A deep sigh deflated your lungs. Your circadian rhythm was never going to recover from this.
You began to shove at Zephyr's shoulder.
"Zeph...Zeph, wake up."
"Huh— what?" She snorted, rubbing her eye with her free hand.
"I'm hungry. And thirsty. Like really thirsty," you chuntered.
Zephyr narrowed her eyes at you, annoyingly coherent after waking up. "Well, of course you are. You came to the café an hour before closing at seven in the evening—and knowing yourself, you probably didn't have anything before then."
Your stomach growled painfully in confirmation.
The lavender-haired woman pushed herself off the mattress. "Stay in bed, I'll make you something. What do you want?"
You grinned. She had a such strong motherly attitude about her—she always did—but she also always tried to deny it and take on a late onset 'teen rebellion' that she didn’t get to indulge in during her childhood, hence the purple hair and eyebrow piercing.
"I don't know. Surprise me. I want chocolate milk, though."
Zephyr excused herself to the kitchen, and you took this time to reflect on recent events.
The questions you had were beyond reasonable answers. With your thoughts no longer clouded by sleep-deprived rationale, you quickly realized just how obscene your previous justification had been.
First and foremost—the game had been out for several years. Even if the scene was as rare as you convinced yourself that it was, there still would be several of those occurrences on record. Second, if it was just a new feature that was added in, why would Scott go back and add just a mere facet to his perfected product, his magnum opus, when there were several other projects to work on?
There was no way that something wasn't up.
You whipped out your phone from your back pocket to pull up the FNaF fandom wiki page, hoping to get some answers from the fanbase—yet no matter how much you scrolled, there wasn't a single remnant of the Five Nights game series. There weren't even any videos from Game Theorist or Markiplier.
None of your confusion resolved, your thumbs tapped away to find a gaming forum and shot out your dilemma on an active channel.
Hey, everyone! Quick question, does anybody know a game called Five Noghts at Freddy’s?
Nights*
I grew up playing it and I’ve been trying to find it for a bit but I can’t find anything on it. It has a robot chicken, fox, bunny, and bear, and they’re possessed by dead children. I swear Markiplier played it, but there’s nothing on his channel. Anything would help. -Anonymous
Hmm… can’t say that I have, sorry :( - talespin9813
Have you tried looking for it under a different name? I’ve never heard of that before - Anonymous
Mark would play something like that lmao - kingarthur101
You shuddered as you sat up, breath hitching with light yelps from your diaphragm—panic finally settling in. It felt like the room was closing in on you, the walls getting closer with every passing moment. Everything was gone. Nobody had any info on Five Nights at Freddy's. It was like it suddenly just didn't exist.
Tears began to well up at the lip of your eyelid as your hand flew to your mouth, holding back a wail that you would undoubtedly screech out if you allowed yourself to. Your ears rang painfully, and Ella was awake and growling into the air at your side, having felt an unwelcome presence begin to swarm the area.
Your vision started to blur as the tears poured over the dam, unable to hold them back anymore. You threw your phone somewhere else in the room and fell back on the bed, palms covering your eyes and gritting your teeth. So badly, you wanted to break your mind from the subject, but it was the only thing you could fix on. The patterns appearing around the spans of your retinae began to fade in color, replaced with nothing but the darkness that stretched for miles.
Much to your chagrin, an image began to display on the projection screen that was the inside of your eyelids. An image of two white dots, like eyes, simply staring at you in your own mind—your own imagination. But you weren't imagining this. This was being displayed in your head like a visual broadcast. You bet that if you opened your eyes, it would still be there.
You felt so constricted and restrained. You didn't know what to do. All you could do was sit there and suffer as you felt yourself be drawn into madness. You couldn't even hear your puppy's distressed barking.
"(Y/N)!"
Suddenly, Zephyr was at your side and you were sitting at the edge of your bed, eyes open wide. You hadn't noticed her enter the room. She was firmly gripping you by the wrists.
"Girl, what's going on?" She coaxed, sitting beside you and speaking in the gentlest tone she could muster.
Panting, you trembled in her hold as she wiped away tears you had failed to catch. "What—" you mustered, swallowing emptily, "what happened yesterday?"
Zephyr looked down at you, the corner of her mouth pinched to the side in a wince. Did you not remember, or were you just trying to find something?
"Well, you came to the café, I drove you back home, you slept until eleven-thirty, woke up, fell asleep again, and now we're here. Not much."
"Zeph,” you urged, "can I tell you something?"
The brown-eyed woman blinked, not exactly understanding what you were asking for, nor why you were asking for it. However, she complied.
"Uh, yeah— yeah, of course, baby. You know you can tell me anything.” She took the yogurt parfait that she had prepared for you from the nightstand and put it in your hands. "So... what’s up?"
You sighed, rubbing your temple, "Why me?"
It wasn't hard to get your friend on board with your whole... situation—she loved paranormal occurrences. Getting it all to make sense, however, was the real challenge. She didn't seem to even know what Five Night at Freddy's was.
"Come on!" You crowed, "How can you not know a single thing about Freddy's? I never shut up about it!"
The woman just shook her head and gestured bleakly at nothing, "I'm telling you, I don't know what on earth you're going on about."
"Ugh," you groaned, palming your face in frustration, "I just don't get why any of this happened in the first place." You brought a pint of water to your lips since you can't run on coffee and chocolate milk, according to Zephyr.
Said woman sat in silence for a moment, contemplating her next words.
"Well, I don't want to alarm you." She brushed her hair back and puffed out her cheeks, leaning back on her other arm.
Your brows furrowed skeptically. "...What?" Your voice was distorted in an echo from you speaking into the cup.
Zephyr itched the back of her head nervously. "It's just—" she paused, sighing, "y'know how you said that the game takes place in a pizzeria? Freddy— oh, what was it… Fazbear's?"
Dubiously, you side-eyed her and hummed in confirmation, signaling for her to continue.
"There's a Fazbear's Arcade and Diner downtown."
The glass in your hand shattered against the floor.