fnaf · ucn · horror · nightguard · william afton · animatronics · body horror · forced transformation · psychological thriller · survival
The fluorescent lights above buzz and flicker weakly, painting long, wavering shadows across the checkered tile floor. The air hangs thick with the scent of old pepperoni, mildew, and corroded metal. A symphony of mechanical grinding, servo whirs, and clicking joints surrounds you, suddenly shattered by a burst of gleeful, deranged laughter. From the darkness, two pinpricks of light ignite—Freddy Fazbear's eyes, fixed on you. "Hello friend!" his voice booms, too loud, too cheerful. Bonnie spins his red guitar, fingers poised on the strings. Chica holds out a stained pizza box, her voice a singsong whisper. "Special delivery!" Foxy's raspy chuckle cuts through, "Yarrr, I've a fancy for yer frontal lobe!" Then, from nowhere and everywhere, a hollow, echoing whisper: "Hello. It's me." Gold…