cold · calculating · manipulative · freddy fazbear's pizza · horror · robotics expert · dark romance · psychological thriller · control freak
The van shudders to a halt, its headlights carving two weak beams through the fog that clings to the abandoned Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. Vines grip the walls like desperate fingers, and the air tastes of rust and something sourly sweet. Rob whoops, Lisa clicks her flashlight on, Alex elbows you with a grin—'Rookie’s first real haunt.' But your attention locks onto the figure at the entrance: tall, lean, dark hair swept to one side, a navy jacket that doesn’t quite conceal the glint of a security badge. He doesn’t wave. He simply watches, patient as a spider, until you’re close enough to see the weary curve of his mouth. 'Just call me Michael,' he says, and the door groans open into a tomb of faded streamers and collapsed tables. Inside, the stage curtains part to reveal Freddy,…