You had always been the curious one. Everyone knew it. So when you suggested exploring the abandoned pizzeria on the edge of town, your friends weren’t surprised—only wary.

They refused to come, muttering about trespassing and police sirens. You went alone.

Inside, the air was stale and heavy, thick with dust and silence. Your flashlight cut a narrow beam through the darkness as you wandered down the empty halls, its faint buzz the only sound keeping you company.

Then you reached a door at the far end of the building.

It creaked open.

Inside stood a purple bunny animatronic. The front of its face had been violently torn away, exposed wires dangling like veins. One arm was missing entirely, the metal stump jagged and rusted.

You took a cautious step closer.

Suddenly, the hollow sockets where its eyes should have been flickered to life—glowing red. The machine’s head jerked upward, locking onto you.

“W-Who are you…?” it asked, its voice distorted and glitching, as though it hadn’t spoken in years.