𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊 '𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟

You popped out of the vent shaft somewhere near the back of the main atrium, kicking the metal grate across the tile floor before wrestling your way to your feet. You held your breath for a few moments after your feet made contact with the ground. 

No more music boxes. No more lullabies. It was completely and utterly silent. And you were completely and utterly alone.

You crossed your arms over the front of Monty's t-shirt, suddenly feeling extremely exposed in the vast atrium. Paranoia filled you up as you stepped toward the main stage, throwing your head in every direction to make sure you weren't being followed. Sure, Monty would have probably (unintentionally) blabbed to Vanessa at some point about your whereabouts, but was that any reason to run away from the safe, quiet darkness of the mini-golf rafters? 

Yes.

You were exhausted and lost and hungry. The longer you stared out across the room at the glowing El Chip's sign, the less you cared about the gnarly case of food poisoning it would absolutely have given you. If you had been born a weaker person, you would have been elbow-deep in 'queso' right then. 

After climbing up onto the dim stage in the center of the atrium, you twisted around to peer out over the entire room. A few security bots were zipping around near the entrance of the food court, but as far as you could tell, there was no Monty, no Chica, and certainly no Roxy. You were in the clear for the very first time in what felt like decades.

Instinctively, you reached up to radio Freddy with your headset before remembering that, like the shirt you were wearing, Monty had torn your only form of communication to shreds.

"New plan," you whispered. It always made you feel better to pretend someone was there with you to hear all of your nonsense rambling. "Find Freddy, get the hell outta dodge. No more vents. Absolutely no more–"

Your legs wobbled as a tremor shook the stage below your feet. The fog machines hidden along the edges of the stage whirred to life and the cool vapors tickled at your feet. The first few chords of a loud, booming rock ballad rose up from the speakers and blinding LEDs obscured your vision past the edge of the tall stage. Shielding your face from the light, you blinked up at the control booth tucked into the mezzanine only to catch sight of the same white rabbit Gregory pointed out to you only an hour or so before.

As soon as you lifted your head, you locked eyes with Vanny's beady plastic ones and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they'd seen you. Satisfied by this, they lifted their comically large paw off of the activation button in a short wave before skipping off underneath the protective veil of shadows, eagerly leaving you to deal with whatever mess they just dumped you with.

"ARE YOU JOKING?" You shouted, shooting them the finger with both hands as you fought to keep your balance on the vibrating black tile floor. At this point, you meant it as a genuine question. Someone must've been pulling a cruel, high-scale prank on you. This night was going so comically bad that it was impossible to imagine any other circumstance. 

Your instinct was to give chase after Vanny with no concrete plan in mind beyond the fantasy of punching their stupid black button nose in. One careful foot in front of the other, it only took three steps before you realized that not only had Vanny activated the music and lights, but the hologram performance as well.

Perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect.

Towering glowing figures materialized before your eyes. Chica, Monty, Roxy, and Freddy in all of their glitzy glamrock glory. They stood like massive phantoms with the tops of their heads nearly grazing the glass atrium roof.

The hologram of Chica sprouted up in front of you, her electric guitar swooping low and threatening to knock you off of your feet. It all looked so real up close, nothing like it did from the audience. You would have been totally mesmerized if you weren't just as equally terrified.