You stare at the animatronic outside the surveillance room windows. A brief moment of panic crosses your mind, your heart beating in your ears. After the initial shock wears off a little, you force yourself to remain calm. Deep breaths. In. Out.

Chica leans closer to the window, their deadened eyes, wide and unblinking. They tap their long plastic claws on the glass, leaving bloody smears. Their mouth splits open in a wicked grin, revealing a row of sharp metal teeth.