The air flees your lungs as you crash below the surface of the ballpit.

You immediately push yourself to the surface, and honestly feel kind of underwhelmed. You might have even considered the drop fun if the circumstances were different. Like, maybe one less murderous moon man.

You haul yourself out of the pit, looking back up at where Moon had been. He's gone, of course. Toying with you like the stupid bitch-face he is.

The lights still off, you drag yourself towards the door. You desperately don't want to go climb through the playstructures in search of generators- though the fall was short, the angle you had landed at still packed a bit of a punch onto your limbs. Not to mention, Moon might pull that whole netting stunt again. You figure it's easier to put distance between yourself and the daycare.

You near the door, passing a few broken and knocked over chairs. Sunny would shit his pants if he saw that.

Reaching the wooden exit, you grab for the doorknob, only to be freeze up at the sound of a laugh like metal scratching on metal. Your heart flutters. Out of resentment. To be clear.

You don't even need to try to look angry as you swing your eyes to Moon, leaning on the wall next to the door and watching you with amused eyes. You'd like nothing more than to gouge them out, smash them to bits, and then throw them into a volcano. Then light the volcano on fire and throw it into another volcano.

You twist the knob to the door slowly, testing him, trying to find out whether he's trying to keep you locked in or not. He responds as you expect him to, stepping forward easily, flaunting the amount of power he has over you with calculated smugness. He reaches out to grab your wrist, and you pull back quickly.

"Why are you trying to leave?" His question comes out as a mocking murmur, "I thought we were having fun, little thing." He leans over to put his face level with yours, hands carefully held together behind his back as his head begins to rotate, imitating a puppy cocking its head. A very ugly, repulsive puppy, that is. With an attitude. That pushes you off balconies.

You scoff, not saying anything as you back up slowly. "Hm?" He coos, "What's wrong, darling?" He reaches a hand out to trace your chin, which you smack away at first contact. Stupid, stupid-

"Where are you going?" He hisses finally, breaking the act. He glances behind you, and you take the split second to dive to your destination; your hand easily connects with the spiky piece of a broken, faded purple chair leg.

Moon cries out and lunges for you as you bring the leg around in full swing like a baseball bat, and it seems to do the job of one. The chair leg splinters, pieces hitting the ground as your body follows the momentum of your swing and you fall onto your side. But it got Moon worse, and all you have time to see are sparks before your feet pick you up and accelerate you out through the doors.

You run as far as you can, flying up stairs and stumbling down hallways. You know the exit is closed, and it's almost two o'clock now- the doors don't open until six. You're going to have to find somewhere to hide for the next four hours.

———————————————

You finally stop for a breath, finding yourself in front of a massive statue of Freddy holding a microphone, reflecting the ghost of lights in all of his golden glory.

You sit for a moment in front of the statue, looking around. As hamster lady never gave you a tour, you have no idea where you are. You've been running through every open door you can find, circling for what feels like hours. Though reasonably, it's probably only been a half hour.

After a few minutes of being able to stretch your aching legs, you begin to doze off- it's not smart, though you almost can't help yourself. You're awoken by the sudden sound of a robotic voice calling out, wearied and longing. But it's not Moon's. Or Sunny's.

"We know you're here, we only want to help!" The voice wails with a false sense of cheeriness. Based on the lack of imminent self interest, it's probably not that dog-lookin one. And it sounds too feminine to be the gator...

You lurch back from your spot next to the statue as slow, dragging footsteps scratch the ground in their trekk towards you. It's hard to see, but you can just barely make out the silhouette of a slouching, dysfunctional bot, it's arms looking like they're barely holding their place attatched to the shoulders. Chica.

In a rush you find your feet, taking long steps backwards whilst keeping your eyes on the nearing threat. You take a short glance over your shoulder and see you're nearly at the bottom of an escalator, but when you return your eyes to Chica she's nowhere to be found. What the hell?

You backward paces quicken and soon you've completely turned around, throwing yourself up the unmoving escalator stairs. You're running for your life despite not being able to see where she's gone. Hell, she could be only a few steps behind you.

You stumble to the top of the first set of escalators, sprinting and quickly catching the second one, which you clear with nearly twice as much desperation. Reaching the top, you spin around, scanning the area. Chica's gone, the large room void of her incessant calls and the grinding of metal against metal as she dragged herself accross the floor.

Just for extra precautions, your pull yourself into a small, teal photobooth lounging in a group with a few others close to the escalators. You sit inside, resting your head back as you listen to the sound of nothing but your breaths. You begin to wonder if maybe you overreacted. Clearly Chica just got bored and left. What was the point of that freak-out?

You're immediately handed the answer to that question as the photobooth curtain swings open, revealing a twitching, lazy-eyed Chica. With her beak ripped out. The hell? What did that?

Realizing it was ambush, you have no time to stand before she reaches for you, dragging you out of the small space as you ineffectively kick and scream. Oh, how much simpler life would be if they'd taken her damn brain instead of her beak.

You throw flying kicks at Chica's abdomin that barely even reach her; she's holding you at an arm-lengths away, pressing your arms to your body. Like Sunny once held you. DON'T BE THINKING ABOUT SUNNY RIGHT NOW, DAMMIT.

Chica drops you on your ass, and your head falls back. Instead of sinking to meet the floor, your skull unexpectedly connects with something that shoots spikes through your conscience, and you look past the throbbing pain to see that you're leaning against a short, glass fence. Which happens to be the only barrier between you and a two story fall. This is no ballpit. You have no way to craft a water bucket. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. People really get a kick out of throwing you off of balconies, huh?

You look back up to see Chica readjusting her arm. It really must be falling off of it's damn hinges. With no more than a moments hesitation, she quickly reaches down for you, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

Cold hands wrap around you. There's a crash. And you're falling.

Your feet unexpectedly hit the ground with less than a second's drop, and your legs, having expected a much farther fall, give, leave you lying flat on the ground. Huh?

You look up to see you're still on the balcony, and the crash wasn't actually the glass behind you. Then what...?

Blinking away the haziness, you see Chica laying sprawled on her stomach, Moon straddling her back. He has her bad arm between his hands, and he yanks- You watch with horrified eyes as Chica's arm easily pulls out with no resistence, a few wires snapping and leaving minimal sparks to escape the socket where her arm had resided.

You hastily flip over so you're no longer on your stomach and are instead sitting. You watch Moon snap Chica's elbow joint so her forearm and upperarm come apart; either just for good measure, or because he's a fucking pshycopath. The pieces of her arm fall loose and drop from his hands.

Moon's head swivels towards you, and you get a front-row look at the extensive damage you did to his face with the chair leg while trying to escape. You cringe both inwardly and outwardly.

Forming a crater in it's absence, Moon's right eye is completely gone, few flashing wires sitting in it's place. His left eye is fine, still boring that same red, though it's flickering madly. There's a dent in his cheek, and missing flecks of paint on his nose. His head begins spinning on it's axis, and you genuinely can't tell if it's because it's broken or not.

Part of you is amazed, even satisfied at the amount of damage you managed to cause with just a chair leg and pure strength. Though you figure he's intentionally not made the strongest, considering he's meant to deal with kids. They're demons, but definitely can't inflict any real harm to him with their chubby baby arms.

Moon picks himself up, his frame slightly hunched; not like Sunny when he dances, it's closer to Chica's posture- broken and falling apart. With a careful step, he maneuvers over the body below him, slinking towards you on silent feet. You're immobilized with terror, staring up with wide eyes. Not evena snarky comment can fight it's way through your lips. He's really looking pissed now.

You scramble in some sort of crab walk backwards, though Moon only increases the length of his strides as he pursues you. A cry escapes your throat as he grabs you under your arms, hoisting you up to your feet. Either from your trademark stubbornness, or just from incomprehensible horror, your legs respond like jelly and you melt right back into the ground.

Moon tries to rip you off the ground again, but you give the same response, this time gaining enough sense to try and pull out of his grasp. He snarls and shifts to grab your upper arms, bringing his face close to yours; his eye blinking like a strobe light on acid, making you shrink away.

"You're so STUPID, why did you leave the daycare? It should've been clear that there were going to be others out here." His voice holds no reseblance to the nonchalant teasing back on the daycare balcony, his tone having only given off mildly angry chihuahua vibes. Well, now his temper was that, but if the chihuahua was cross-mutated with the hulk and then had his whole family killed in front of him.

You feel like a mouse as he glowers down at you. "You're so foolish, running off like that."

"I was trying to get away from-" You protest,

"No," He hisses, "You should have known better." A squeak escapes you as his hands press into your arms.

"You were going to kill me," You begin, "Why would I want to-"

A dry laugh drowns your words. "Kill you? Y/n, I thought you understood I was just messing with you. Can't handle a small joke?" There's a false amusement in his sentences that turns to a strange form of desperation. "I would never hurt you, Y/n, never ever ever."

"NEVER?!" You squint at him, trying to make sense of his words. You can't press down the anger that shades your face. "You're a PSYCHOPATH, MOON! WHAT DO YOU MEAN, NEVER?"

This time Moon's laugh isn't as angry, but it's cold. "Sunny is rubbing off on you too much," He says in a murmur, lifting one of his hands to brush your chin. "That little goodie two shoes. He's making you soft." Moon gently lifts your head so it's tilted towards his, his voice coming out as a whisper. "I can fix you."

Heart hammering and wide-eyed, you try wrestling out of his grasp again. "You're crazy," You breath me out, "Sunny hasn't done anything to me, I'm just saying things as they are! YOU'RE MENTAL!

Moon's head begins a lazy spin. "You're so feisty," he says through an amused laugh, "I like that about you, Y/n." His thumb drags from your chin to your jawline, elliciting a shiver from you that he promptly misunderstands. "I'll still have to punish you," He whispers, "You should know not to disobey me." What. The. Fuck. You slowly raise one of your legs, ready to beat the shit out of him

His other hand loosens from your arm, trailing down to your waist. "Now, we're going to go back, and you'll listen like a good girl." The opportunity he unintentionally gives you is golden.

A moment of silence, a breath. Then, "I don't have to LISTEN TO YOU," You break out of his arms with a hiss, releasing your foot and kicking him where the sun don't shine, sending him stumbling backwards.

You immediately trip backwards, taking a breath of disbelief and quickly seeking an exit. A errant screech follows the sound of Moon faltering to his feet, and you twist to see him hunched with his hands reaching after you, fingers curled like claws. "You can't run," his voice rings, "You're MINE. NOBODY ELSE'S." His voice sounds maniacle, and holds an eerie note of pleading desperation to it.

You back up, confused at his claim. 'I am his? The fuck I am not, thank you very much.'

When you don't say anything, his voice comes out like a snake. "This is all your decision, Y/n. Don't be mad at me. You must be punished." You ignore his stupid, cryptic, nonsensical words.

Turning to leave after one last pitying glance, you run into a wall. You curse yourself, and begin to walk around it when it reaches out and grabs you.

It's not a wall. It's Roxy. Who, might I mention, seems to be missing her eyes. You barely have a moment to marvel at the Pizzaplex's inability to keep their animatronics safe at night when Roxy begins dragging you away.

You quickly turn to Moon, hoping he's still up for disarming another animatronic, but he isn't moving an inch.

He's standing next to Chica, the both of them staring at you, and looking past his damaged face you can tell his false innocence is going full throttle. Moon lifts a hand, giving a small wave, one finger bending at a time in the most mocking good bye ever.

Before Roxy turns the corner, you see Moon and Chica stalk off in a different direction, like the best of pals.

Double ambush.

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Yeah, this was.... something 😨👊

Anyways, I really wanted to say thank you for all of the support on this story! Honestly the feedback has been crazyyy, I really appreciate it, reading all of your comments really motivates me haha