Year 198712Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYo6LFD85uH
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Markiplier(Mark)'s POV12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8HrtPZb8q2
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Mark walked into the pizzeria. But this time? This time he was ready. He walked straight up to the stage and climbed up onto it, breathing heavily, and pointing at Toy Chica. "You aren't fooling me! Yeah, that's right. I know exactly what you're plans are! And I'm ready for them!"
Toy Chica just stared. Not even blinking.
"Yeah, that's right. I'm not afraid of you anymo—"
Toy Bonnie's head dropped to the side and Mark screamed, stumbling back, and falling off the stage. He shot a suspicious glance at Toy Bonnie. "I'm keeping my eye on you."
Mark stood up and brushed himself off as he walked to the office. And just as he got there, the phone rang as if someone sensed he arrived.
He picked up the phone.
"Hey! Markiplier! See, I told you your first night wouldn't be a problem, You're a natural!" Lixian said over the phone.
"Bullcrap, Lixian!" Mark snapped, already looking through the cameras. "For a moment I thought you were summoning demons in the frickin' bathroom. Had it not been for that chicken trying to kill me—"
Lixian chuckled. "Okay, okay, Mark. Relax."
"RELAX?"
Mark looked back at the monitors then quickly wound up the music box. "You told me it was impossible for the animatronics to move!"
"No, I told you it *should* be impossible," Lixian corrected.
"Same thing! Also what are those guys in the storage?"
"In...storage?"
Mark rolled his eyes. "Yes! In storage." "Oh frick, Toy Chica's looking at the camera." he muttered.
"Oh! You mean Parts and Services! Yes! Those are the older models from the previous locations." Lixian explained. "We just use them for parts now. The idea at first was to repair them. But that idea didn't work so, uh...they shouldn't be able to walk around—*SHOULDN'T*. NOT *WON'T*—but if they do, the Freddy head trick should work on them too. Except for maybe Foxy. So, uh, if he does start moving around and appears at the end of the hallway, just flash your flashlight at him."
"Uh-huh."
"Hello?" A voice echoed through the halls.
Mark nearly jumped out of his seat. "WHAT THE HE—"
"Anyways, good night. And I'll talk to you tomorrow," said Lixian before hanging up.
Mark stared into the hall ahead of him. He turned on his flashlight. Nothing.
(Quick zoom out of the office into the end of the hallway to see Mark staring with his flashlight pointed towards the hall.)
"At least I know Lixian isn't summoning demons here."
Laughter echoes through the hallway.
(Zoom back in to the office)
"WHAT WAS THAT?"
Clang.
"WHAT WAS THAT?"
Mark quickly cycled through the cameras until he found Toy Bonnie in Party Room 4 and he yelled in panic. His gaze snapped to the desk where a tiny Freddy plush sat, its eyes locked onto him like a judgemental doll of doom.
Markiplier glared back at it. "What are you lookin' at? I wasn't scared! I was just— that's what I would have done if I was scared. Which I'm not."
The plush remained motionless, silently calling out his bluff.
"...Shut up."
Mark's gaze slowly shifted back to the monitors.
Laughter echoes again.
Mark shined his flashlight down the hall. Then at the left air vent. Then at the right air vent. No one. Nothing. They were empty.
Mark picked up the phone and called Lixian.
After a few rings Lixian finally answered. "Hello?"
"Lixian."
"Ehh...Mark?" Lixian questioned.
"I need you to tell me now–"
"Uh-huh?"
"DID YOU SUMMON DEMONS IN THE RESTAURANT?" Mark barked.
"No..."
Silence.
"Why?" Lixian then asked.
"Because someone is laughing and I don't know where it's coming from!"
Lixian sighed. "Probably Balloon Boy. Heh, I'd pay anything just to hear him say anything else."
"Oh."
"Yeah..."
Silence.
"Do you need to know anything else?" Lixian asked.
"...I don't think so." Mark answered hesitantly.
click
Mark blinked at the phone before putting it down. He then looked at the monitor and quickly went to wind up the music box. He stood from his chair, picking up the Freddy plush and walking towards the hall with his flashlight.
He walked through the halls, his eyes darting to every shadow that moved and every noise.
clank, clank, clank
Mark spun around. He then looked straight at the Freddy plush. "You heard that too, right?"
The plush just stared back in silence.
"You're not being very helpful."
Mark walked deeper into the hallway, the Freddy plush tucked firmly under one arm like a football. His flashlight shone across posters, old party streamers, and a *very suspicious* stain on the floor.
Click. Buzz. Clank.
He froze again. "Okay. Okay. Okay. That was probably just... pipes. Or haunted pipes. Yeah."
His footsteps echoed softly as he continued walking through the pizzeria. Somewhere in the distance, static began to hum.
Mark stopped in his tracks. He slowly turned in the direction of the noise. “What... the heck is that?”
The static grew louder.
He pressed the Freddy plush close to his chest. "I swear, if that’s Lixian’s demonic mixtape playing again, I’m quitting."
From far down the corridor, around the bend near Kid's Cove… something shifted. A distorted clatter of limbs scraping plastic and metal on tile echoed out.
Clink-clank-rattle-hsssssss
"...Okay," Mark whispered. "That’s new. That’s definitely new."
He inched forward, flashlight trembling in his grip. The static surged, louder now. It was less like a sound and more like the universe hissing at him through a broken TV.
He peeked around the corner.
Nothing.
“Ha!” he said, voice cracking. “See? I told you, Freddy plush. Nothin’ to worry ab—”
Then, a flash of white and pink dropped from the ceiling with the sound of garbled radio static.
Mark shrieked and threw the plush at it like a dodgeball. The hallway blurred as Mark bolted. Freddy plush long since abandoned to the horrors of Kid’s Cove. His flashlight bounced wildly in his grip as his sneakers squeaked frantically against the tiles.
“NOPE-NOPE-NOPE-NOPE—”
He whipped around the corner near the Main Hall, aiming for the office like it was a safe zone in tag. But just as he turned the corner—
He froze.
In the center of the hallway, in front of the office, stood a towering, mangled shell of an animatronic rabbit.
Its left arm? Gone. Its face? Gone. One ear flopped down lifelessly. Its glowing red eyes stared out of the socket that remained, dead and hollow, like a broken toy that forgot how to be fun.
Mark’s shoes skidded to a stop.
Bonnie turned its head. Slowly.
There was a soft mechanical whir… and then stillness.
Mark blinked.
Bonnie blinked. Kind of. The glowing eyes just flickered once.
The two just stood there. In total silence. The tension could’ve cut titanium.
Mark opened his mouth like he was about to say something... then slowly closed it.
He cleared his throat. “Uhh… hey, buddy.”
Bonnie just stared.
Mark motioned vaguely toward the office behind the animatronic. “Sooo… I’m just gonna… squeeze past you real quick…”
Silence.
Mark took one step.
Bonnie’s head tilted a tiny bit.
Mark’s hand went up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I get it. Personal space. That’s cool. That’s fine.”
The rabbit didn’t move.
Mark took a deep breath, gave himself a little pep talk under his breath, then began to awkwardly sidestep around Bonnie.
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“Just two guys… chilling in a haunted hallway… five feet apart ‘cause one of us doesn’t have a FACE.”
He finally reached the office and slumped into his chair.
Silence.
He stared blankly at the camera feed. Oh wait! The puppet!
Mark quickly switched to Prize Corner and wound up the music box just in time.
He then turned his attention back to Bonnie, pointing his flashlight at him. He was still there. Mark quickly put on the Freddy mask. The rabbit went away. Nice. But the loud static got closer.
The minutes seemed to stretch on endlessly as he waited...and checked on the music box—he wasn't going to risk losing his soul again—every second was filled with the tension of the unknown.
"Hi."
"FRICK!" Mark jumped, almost falling out of his seat. Mark's eyes darted around the office, until they landed on none other than Balloon Boy.
Mark let out a shaky breath, trying to calm himself. “Oh... Who are you?"
"Hi," Balloon Boy chirped in his eerily cheerful voice.
Mark shot him a glare, still rattled from the sudden appearance. “I'm assuming you must be the balloon child." The little guy’s smile didn’t waver as he stood there, just staring.
Balloon Boy continued to stand there in the corner of the office, his smile fixed, as if waiting for something. “You know, you’re not really helping,” Mark said, glancing back at the monitors.
The animatronics were still on the move, slowly closing in on him. He needed to keep an eye on them, not waste time with Balloon Boy’s antics.
“Hello?” Balloon Boy’s voice echoed again, drawing Mark's attention back to him.
“Yeah, I hear you,” Mark sighed, more annoyed than scared now. He quickly checked the vent cameras—no sign of any of the animatronics. For now, at least. Mark turned back to Balloon Boy, who was still in the corner of the office, grinning that annoying grin.
“Okay, buddy, how about you just… go back to wherever you came from?” Mark suggested, knowing it was probably pointless but feeling the need to say something.
Balloon Boy responded with a laugh, completely ignoring him.
Mark's frustration grew as Balloon Boy continued his relentless greeting and laughing. The animatronic’s persistent laughing, “Hi” and “Hello?” were starting to wear him thin. He glanced back at the monitors, hoping to get a quick update on the roaming animatronics.
He glanced at the clock again. Only 25 minutes passed since he last checked the clock. And it was 1:00 am when he last checked it. Mark groaned and spun around in his chair.
He looked at Baloon Boy again. “Okay, listen here—how about you take some balloons, float out of my office, and we call it even?”
"Hi.”
Mark stammered. “NO. That is not the negotiation we’re hav–”
A giggle.
Even Balloon Boy shut up. For a second. "Ha."
"Ha..." Markiplier echoed nervously.
Mangle did not shut up. But she did drop the Freddy plush on the desk.
Mark looked up. Mangle tilted her head and gestured to the plush. Mark could barely make out Mangle saying "...Yours...Freddy?"
Somewhere in the distance, running footsteps echoed down the hall.
Mark looked back down at the plush. "Uhh...yes. This belongs to me...because I am Freddy."
Mark sat frozen in his chair, the Freddy plush tucked tightly in his arms like a lifeline. Mangle had slinked away. Balloon Boy was still standing in the corner, grinning. The footsteps from earlier had stopped, and a dreadful silence crept in like fog.
And then—
The soft patter of bare feet echoed just outside the office entrance. Mark’s breath hitched in his throat as his eyes slowly drifted toward the doorway.
A shadow. Small. Barely knee-high.
A child?
His heart skipped. He blinked, squinted—and there it was. The outline of someone tiny, standing in the darkness just beyond the office. Maybe… four feet tall? A silhouette that trembled faintly, head tilted, curls bouncing ever so slightly with each movement.
Mark carefully took the Freddy mask off. “Uh… hey. Are you… lost? Do you need help?”
His voice cracked halfway through the sentence, but it wasn’t fear this time.
The figure stepped forward slightly, just enough for him to catch a better glimpse.
Pink dress. White collar. Ringlets of blonde hair.
Mark leaned forward a little, his hand trembling as it reached for the flashlight.
“Are you okay? I–"
He flicked it on.
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Light flooded the hallway.
What he saw was not a child.
The figure had changed. Morphing? Or had the shadows just been playing tricks on him?
Towering now. Bulky. Withered.
A filthy bib hung from its neck, stained with mold and… other things. Its beak hung open, metal teeth catching the light. Its eyes were a lifeless void, staring through him.
Withered Chica.
Her hands were missing, and both arms permanently outstretched like she was stuck mid-hug.
Mark screamed internally. Externally? A high-pitched wheeze.
He felt around for the Freddy mask. The flashlight clattered across the desk. BB laughed from the corner like he was watching a comedy show.
The lights in the office flickered. The sounds of pained screaming came from who knows where.
Mark yanked the mask over his head so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.
Then—
Chica turned. Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.
And walked away.
The hallway was empty again. All was silent again. BB was gone.
Mark slowly peeled off the mask and sucked in a breath like he hadn’t breathed in five minutes.
He slowly turned back to the monitors. Must wind up the music box.
He glanced at the clock. Only 3am. Cool. Awesome.
"CAN THIS NIGHT GO BY ANY FASTER?!"
ns216.73.216.0da2
