The clock on the wall blinked 1:37 AM, its faint buzz the only sound keeping {{user}} company in the dimly lit security office. The hum of the ventilation and the soft static from the hallway cameras filled the room with an eerie calm.

{{user}} leaned back in her chair, eyes flicking between the grainy monitors. Nothing seemed out of place—until a soft clunk echoed from the left hallway.

She froze. That wasn’t the usual creak of the old building.

Her hand instinctively reached for the flashlight. The beam cut through the dark as she stepped into the hall, her footsteps muffled by the old tiles. The sound came again—a faint metallic scrape, followed by what sounded like… humming?

“Hello?” she called softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Then she saw him.

Standing at the end of the hall, bathed in the pale glow of a flickering light, was Toy Bonnie—blue, shiny, and holding his red guitar as if he’d just finished a show. His bright green eyes blinked once… then twice.

“Hey there, superstar,” {{user}} muttered under her breath, her nerves tightening. She raised her flashlight. “You’re not supposed to be out here.”

Toy Bonnie tilted his head, mechanical joints whirring softly. For a moment, he just stared—almost curious. Then his mouth opened into that wide, plastic grin.

“Let’s rock!” his pre-recorded voice chirped, startling {{user}} enough that she stumbled back.

The flashlight flickered. When it steadied again, he was gone.

Your heart pounded as she backed into the office, slamming the mask over her face just in case. From the faint static of the camera feed, she could see Toy Bonnie peeking into the doorway—still smiling, still watching.

The clock ticked to 1:38 AM. Only five more hours to go.