✧.✫𝒜𝒻𝓉𝓸𝓃 𝒞𝓸𝓇𝓇𝓊𝓅𝓉𝒾𝓸𝓃.✫

Mangled

One month into Jeremy's night shifts, 1998

The Pizzeria had that new smell—the faint chemical tang of fresh animatronic parts mixed with the faint, lingering stench of fear. Jeremy had learned to avoid thinking about it too hard. Most nights, he survived by keeping the cameras on, his flashlight at the ready, and his panic contained.

But tonight... tonight would test everything.

He slipped into the maintenance hallway near Pirate Cove. The early morning lights flickered as he rounded the corner. Something was off.

He stopped dead.

There she was.

Mangle.

The toy had been torn apart long before, every child's tiny hands leaving her in pieces, limbs detached, wires exposed, eyes dangling slightly off her head. But someone—maintenance? Or perhaps the company trying to keep up appearances—had reassembled her, over and over again. Not neatly. Not safely. Just enough to make her look like an animatronic again.

Jeremy's stomach turned.

The mangled white-and-pink frame sat twisted in the corner of Pirate Cove. Her head dangled from one wire, hanging like a grotesque puppet. Her tail, tangled and half-broken, whipped slightly as the ceiling fan above rattled in the morning breeze.

He gagged a little. "God... how many times... how many times have they done this to her?"

Pieces of her once cheerful exterior had been replaced with shiny, mismatched parts. A claw here, a patch of fiberglass there. It was grotesque. And yet, there was something alive in those bright gold eyes, flickering faintly like the last ember of a candle.

Jeremy stepped closer, carefully, trying not to make her twitch. But it was too late.

A small metallic squeak echoed as Mangle's limbs shifted—just slightly. She wasn't fully powered, but something was there. Jeremy's skin crawled. This wasn't just a broken animatronic. 

He made a face, disgusted and horrified at the same time. "How... how can they keep replacing her like this? They don't even realize... she's not just parts anymore."

The morning was quiet, unnervingly so. The sounds of the Pizzeria waking up—clinking utensils, the distant beep of arcade machines—felt surreal against the twisted tableau before him.

Jeremy stormed toward the cleaning crew, who were lazily pushing mops and laughing like it was just another slow morning.

"Guys—"

He barely got the words out before one of them waved a hand dismissively.

"Oh, hey, Jeremy! You seeing things again? Hah, these animatronics are alive in your head, man!"

Another cleaner snorted. "Maybe you need more sleep, dude. Or less pizza."

Jeremy's face twitched. His hands curled into fists. "No, it's not about me 'seeing things.' You need to—look at Mangle!"

The crew glanced lazily toward Pirate Cove. One of them whistled, clearly unimpressed. "That one? Pfft. She's just a mess of wires. What, you worried she's gonna crawl out and bite you? Chill, man."

Jeremy's voice rose, tense and sharp. "I'm not joking! She's been torn apart, piece by piece, and patched together so many times that—she's not just an animatronic anymore. She's a ticking time bomb of spare parts, and she needs to be replaced or thrown out!"

The cleaners laughed again. "Spare parts? You mean extra bonus parts?" one of them teased, tossing a mop like it was a joke weapon.

"No!" Jeremy snapped. "This isn't funny! You don't get it! She moves. She watches. If something happens at night, it's not a joke—it's going to—"