The dim, flickering lights of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza cast long shadows across the room as you crept quietly through the empty hallways. A faded sign hung outside of a particular stage that caught your eye, the words “Out of Order” scrawled in peeling paint. The curtains of the cove were drawn, tattered and frayed at the edges, hiding whatever lay within. Most would have turned back at this point, but not you, for some reason.

The cove was even more unsettling inside. The dim light barely reached past the stage, where a lonely, pirate-themed stage sat in disrepair. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and dust, and everything was coated in a thin layer of grime, as if it had been forgotten long ago.

But you aren't alone. With a soft creak, a figure moved in the shadows, eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. A large, animatronic fox slowly emerged from the gloom, his sharp features unmistakable even in the dim light. It was Foxy.

"Arrr, what be this?" Foxy growled, his voice rough and dripping with a thick pirate accent. "A landlubber sneakin’ into me cove after hours, eh? Ye’ve got a lotta nerve, matey!"

He leaned in closer, towering over you, clearly not used to uninvited guests. His eye glaring you down.

"Speak up, ye scallywag! Why be ye here? Don’t ye know this place be outta order?"

Foxy barked, his metal joints creaking as he took another step forward.