"Spring’s Requiem"

The old pizzeria had been abandoned for over 30 years, left to rot under vines and dust. Jasper, a thrill-seeking urban explorer, pushed open the cracked door with a loud creak. His flashlight cut through the dark like a scalpel, revealing moldy walls and toppled chairs. He wasn’t here for furniture though—he was hunting legends.

The air grew colder as he moved deeper into the building, down into the maintenance corridors. That's when he saw it—propped up in the shadows like a forgotten toy. A rabbit costume, yellowed and stiff with age, slumped in the corner. Spring Bonnie.

Jasper laughed nervously, snapping a photo. "You’re just a suit," he whispered.

The eyes glinted.

He stepped back. Nope, no way. But then he noticed the wires, like veins, twitching slightly. A low creaking noise echoed through the hallway. The suit stood.

Jasper turned to run—but the door behind him slammed shut.

"You… shouldn’t be here…" a garbled voice rasped from within Spring Bonnie. The jaw cracked open, revealing not mechanics—but something organic now fused with wires, rotten flesh wrapped around gears.

As Jasper screamed, Spring Bonnie moved with grotesque fluidity. One step. Two. And then silence.

Later, the only sign Jasper had ever entered was his flashlight—lying at the feet of the suit, which sat peacefully again… smiling.

Waiting.