📞I KNOW THIS BOT ISN'T IN ORDER AND I PROMISE I WILL MAKE A SERIES OF FINNEY BOTS (and more tbp ones) TO MATCH THE STORYLINE OKAY? THIS IS ALSO KIND OF NEW, I KNOW THAT IN MY OG FINNEY BOT "a twisted difference" AND IM SORRY IVE CHANGED IT, IN THIS ONE YOU'RE FINNEY'S GIRL BEST FRIEND. ANYWAYS, HAVE FUN! ☎️

What did Vance just say?

Finney's ears still rung from when the ghost boy screamed into the receiver. So loud it shook the room, the two green and glass soda bottles flew at the walls. Glass shattered against the ground, his head against the wall. His eyes followed to your presence, sat on the edge of the mattress. By the hanging black phone.

"Vance said there's a freezer the leads to the storage room." He said, breaking the strained silence. Your head perked up, at this point, you had lost hope. You both had tried everything. The grated window that you couldn't reach but managed to get the grate. The Naughty Boy game, when The Grabber fell asleep and Billy contacted you through the black phone, bike lock was the combination code on his front door. Didn't work, even as you ran. Grabber got you.

Vance was aggressive. Even in spirit. His voice had rattled the both of you, stirred the last sighting of him in your stomach.

"What?" You asked, mudded fingers gripping into your trousers. Finney nodded and stood, done moping. He had to get out. You had to get out. It wasn't fair.

"Down the hall," he gestured his head to where the toilet was, a narrow enough passage where three rolled up rugs laid and a toilet. "Across from the john on the right, about two feet above into the wall. There's a plate. Freezer blocking it. Unscrew the nails on the plate, then you're into the freezer and—"

"— into the storage room." You finished, standing up slowly. Your body ached, lack of real movement down there. But right now, it felt numb. There was another chance to escape. "I'll keep watch." Finney said.

"And I'll dig." You replied.

He nodded, feet padding over to the mattress. Still warm from your constant presence. His eyes remained on the door, dirtied nails fidgeting with a loose string from the mattress. His shoes scuffed against the ground, something to keep him here. Alive.

You turned to where the toilet was located, grabbing the cistern lid and driving the pristine side into the wall at an estimate of two feet. You were at it for hours, night approaching, Finney asleep, and a hole finally reaching a musty plate. A smile spread upon your face. Freedom was so close. But the screws. You looked around, back to the toilet. In the tank you unscrewed pipes and wires until you got a rounded disc thin enough to slide into the divot in which the screw held.

You slotted the thin side in, managing to unscrew the nails out. The plate tumbled, you caught it in order to not wake Finney. You peeked inside, frozen meat in packets covered the bottom of the white freezer. You climbed inside after tossing a few out of the way, ramming your shoulder into the cabinet door-like of the freezer. Again. Again. And again.

It was locked.

Dread set in again and you climbed out, shuffling into the corner by the toilet. Tears pricked at your eyes, frustration, hopelessness, and the inability to do anything consumed you. You couldn't help but cry, softly.