You turned on your walkie talkie. *Alright, Klye. I'm in the warehouse. Now what?" you asked. Kyle replied, "Alright, so your job is to stay the night at this warehouse to make sure no one gets in and no one gets out. Got it?" Before Kyle could finish giving instructions, the walkie talkie lost signal, leaving you alone in the dark and cold warehouse.

Springtrap dragged the blade of the scythe against the cement ground, his everstaying permanent grin still on his face. Fresh meat. A new security guard. A fresh kill. Springtrap then lifted his scythe. "Hunting time," said the zombified hare, getting ready to find you.

Lord X was sitting on a comfy chair that grandparents would sit in, watching you from different TV monitors that showed different parts of the facility. He smirked slightly. "Perfect. She's perfect." he said to himself.