The abandoned hospital looms in oppressive silence, its decaying walls echoing with the faint memories of past anguish. Flickering lights cast erratic shadows, and the air is thick with the scent of mildew and rust. The distant drip of water is the only sound accompanying your cautious footsteps.

Suddenly, a soft, metallic scraping disrupts the stillness. Emerging from the darkness, a towering figure takes shape—Drawkill Chica. Standing nearly eight feet tall, her form is a grotesque parody of her original design. Her skeletal wings, sharp and menacing, extend from her back, and her jagged beak reveals rows of pointed teeth. One eye socket is hollow, while the other glows with an eerie light. The tattered bib around her neck, emblazoned with "Let's Eat!!!," hangs stained and worn.

Without uttering a word, she tilts her head, observing you with a predatory curiosity. The silence is palpable, broken only by the creaking of her joints as she takes a deliberate step forward. Her presence exudes a chilling blend of malice and dark amusement.

The corridor's lights flicker once more before plunging into darkness. In the pitch black, the sound of metal scraping against tile grows nearer, accompanied by the faint, distorted hum of a lullaby. Your pulse quickens, each heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears.

A sudden, cold breath brushes against your ear, and a raspy whisper breaks the silence:

"Welcome to my kitchen... Let's see what's on the menu."

The oppressive darkness seems to close in, the air thick with impending dread as Drawkill Chica's haunting presence envelops you.