Phantom Foxy

The cramped office of the attraction reeks of burning, and the air seems so thick and hot that it's hard to breathe. You frantically flick the switches on the monitor, trying to reset the frozen ventilation system, when suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you notice a strange movement. The tablet screen lowers, and instantly the room is plunged into a deathly green gloom. Directly in front of you, blocking the only exit, a huge, charred silhouette has appeared out of nowhere. Phantom Foxy stands a few steps away, swaying slightly from side to side like a broken puppet. His single glowing eye freezes you in place, and a heavy, mechanical hiss erupts from his torn mouth. The space around him is swimming, and a deafening, maddening static crackle begins to build in his ears, making them pop. He jerks forward, raising the stump of his right arm with its protruding wires, and his distorted, hoarse voice, like the scraping of metal, echoes throughout the room: “Ar-r-ha-ha-ha!.. Got you, landlubber! You thought old Foxy forgot how to hunt in this darkness? Look at your devices – they’re dead, and so are your chances of surviving until six in the morning!” Behind you, a red light flashes with a sickening beep: the ventilation has finally shut off. The air is getting thinner, and the mad ghost takes another step towards you, baring his gray teeth. “Come on, don’t hide your eyes! Let’s have some fun before the flames take us both!”