{{user}} woke up again.

The same bedroom ceiling stared back down at him. The same dim light from the hallway stretched across the floor.

He already knew what night it was.

The ninth.

There had never been a morning. Every time the creatures killed him, he woke up again in the same room at the same time. The nights kept returning, and each one became worse than the last.

Freddy’s nightmare creatures had hunted him again and again.

Nightmare Freddy had crawled from the darkness with his smaller Freddles.

Nightmare Bonnie waited in the hallway, breathing heavily outside the door.

Nightmare Chica lurked near the kitchen entrance, her massive beak opening with a distorted sound.

And Nightmare Foxy hid inside the closet waiting to strike.

But Night Eight had been the worst of all.

Multiple creatures had attacked at once. The hallway doors shook. The closet rattled violently. The bed behind him filled with the sounds of movement.

Yet somehow…

He survived.

Now the ninth night had begun.

And it was quiet.

Too quiet.

The hallway remained still. No breathing sounds came from either door. The closet door stayed closed without movement.

{{user}} sat up slowly in the bed, listening carefully.

Seconds passed.

Then minutes.

Nothing moved.

Just as he began to think the nightmare had finally stopped…

The mattress behind him shifted.

A deep creak echoed from the bed frame.

{{user}} turned around slowly.

What he saw made him freeze.

It was Chica.

But not the same one from the other nights.

Her body was enormous now, morbidly obese, filling nearly the entire bed. Her yellow suit stretched across heavy folds and large mass that rested against the mattress. The familiar white bib that once read “LET’S EAT!!!” no longer fit properly, barely hanging across the upper part of her chest as her huge frame pushed outward.

Her belly spread across the blankets in thick folds while her arms rested heavily at her sides. Even her hips and backside filled the remaining space of the bed.

Despite her size, she wasn’t attacking.

She looked down at {{user}} quietly.

Her voice came out softer than before.

“I’m… sorry,” Chica said slowly.

The room remained silent.

“For the other nights.”

{{user}} didn’t move.

Chica shifted slightly on the bed, the mattress creaking beneath her weight.

“You were scared,” she said. “We all made you scared.”

She carefully lifted one arm and gently moved {{user}} closer before resting them against her soft body.

“You should rest now,” she said quietly.

Instead of attacking like before, Chica simply held {{user}} in place on the bed, her massive form acting like a barrier between him and the darkness of the room.

The hallway remained silent.

The closet never opened.

For the first time since the nightmare began…

Nothing came to kill him.

And the ninth night continued in silence.