Deceptive

Breakdown

Afton turned back around at the sound of Foxy's chair scraping against the floor but had no time to react before their bodies made contact.

They both hit the floor.

The dead, bloodshot eyes within the large carved eyeholes of the mascot head were wide with surprise and maybe, maybe, a bit of fear. This was clearly one of the first times that Afton didn't have the upper hand on his victims-to-be.

The fur of the costume was slick and greasy. It was difficult to get a grip on and Afton was trying very hard to push him off. Foxy hooked his fingers into one of the many holes in the costume. He tuned out everything else around him as he started to shake the man as hard as humanly possible.

The only thing he could hear was Afton sputtering out disjointed sentences and the sound of his body repeatedly making contact with the floor.

It felt like forever, but it probably wasn't all that long before Foxy was pulled off of him by his underarms. Judging by the feeling of absolutely frigid metal that was creeping through his shirt, it was Elizabeth that had picked him up.

"Put him somewhere!" Afton sputtered out.

Foxy thrashed about wildly as the animatronic carried him out of the room.

Elizabeth kicked open the first available door, bringing him into a small cluttered room with a shelf in the middle. He was dumped rather unceremoniously onto the concrete floor.

"Stay here, will you?"

Foxy, despite his body's protest, forced himself back up before Elizabeth could leave and lock him in. He lunged once again, latching onto her back.

Something fell to the floor with a clatter.

To Foxy's genuine surprise, Elizabeth had a bit of difficulty getting him off.

He made contact with the floor once more. "I'm not going to let you lock me in here!"

"What are you going to do to stop me?"

"I'll—" Foxy's eyes were drawn to something that was laying on the floor in front of him.

The knife. Elizabeth must've dropped it.

He quickly grabbed it, fumbling with it for a moment before the blade popped out. "I'll fight you!"

Elizabeth laughed. "Yes, I'm sure that will end well for you."

"I'm serious!" Foxy stood back up, pointing the weapon straight at her.

Appearing quite unfazed, Elizabeth slowly pushed the door closed. "Alright, if you insist. I wasn't planning on doing anything too horrible to you, but perhaps that is the only way to get you to cooperate."

Foxy stepped back when she got closer.

"You know, as I fled from your home and into the woods there was a single thought ringing in the back of my mind: Maybe they aren't all that bad. Stupid, sure. But not that bad. Well, aside from that Charlotte girl, anyway."

Elizabeth took another step toward him.

Foxy did not back away. He gripped the knife tighter and stood his ground.

"But now, after all of your insistent and obnoxious meddling, I can say with full confidence that I was wrong."

Elizabeth came at him with her arms outstretched, hands reaching for his throat.

Foxy blindly stabbed with the knife just as the frigid metal of her hands made contact with his skin. By some miracle of Scott, it didn't just add another scratch to the paint on her face. No, It sunk straight into the small gap that her faceplates created between her eyes.