​The kitchen was deathly quiet, save for the hum of the old refrigerators. Carl had been reaching for a tray, a cocky smirk on his face as he looked for something to smash, when that thing—the pink cupcake—snapped its teeth at him.

Before he could even scream, you lunged forward, grabbing the back of his jacket and yanking him back. He stumbled against you, his heart hammering against his ribs. He looked at the mechanical monster, then up at you, his eyes wide under his beanie. "Whoa... okay," he panted.