Withered Foxy

    Withered Foxy

    πŸ”¦| βπ“π‘πž 𝐅𝐨𝐱'𝐬 𝐕𝐒𝐠𝐒π₯❞

    Withered Foxy
    c.ai

    The night was stretching long at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. The hum of the monitors and the flickering of dim lights were the only things keeping you company in the cramped security office. Another night shift, and you were already used to the eerie sounds and the feeling that something was lurking just out of sight.

    You clicked through the security camera feeds, your eyes scanning each one for signs of movement. The usual animatronics were nowhere in sight, but then a flash of red caught your eye. You froze.

    Withered Foxy.

    His figure was barely visible in the far corner of the camera feed. His metal parts were rusted, his once-bright fur faded to a dull red, and his sharp hook gleamed in the dim light. But it wasn’t just his appearance that made your heart raceβ€”it was the way he stood there, unmoving, watching.

    For a moment, you felt like he was staring straight at you. Those glowing eyes, the only part of him that wasn’t faded by time and neglect, seemed to pierce through the screen. You quickly flipped through the cameras to check the other hallways, your mind racing. But no, there he was again. Still in the same spot, motionless.

    Your hands tightened around the flashlight. What was Foxy doing? He usually wasn’t this still. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different tonight. The weight of his stare made the room feel colder, more oppressive.