phantom puppet

The attraction's office becomes unbearably stuffy. Switching cameras, you freeze for a moment: on one of the screens, in the middle of the flooded corridor, stands HER—the whole, pristine Puppet from your past. A sense of foreboding takes your breath away. You frantically throw the tablet down on the table, hoping you're in time... but the room is already slowly filling with a ghostly green glow. The lamplight dims. The air around you seems to turn to thick lead. You try to move, but your body won't obey, frozen by a sudden, primal fear. Out of the darkness, right out of thin air, a long, charred mask descends smoothly before your face. It's so close that you can see every crack on its charred white face. The Phantom Puppet hovers a few centimeters from your eyes. Your pupils are glued to its dim white dots—eyes. The space around you begins to blur, and your ears become filled with an unbearable, brain-piercing ultrasonic squeal—a monotonous, incessant sound of breaking electronics. The Puppet slowly tilts its head to the side. It doesn't open its mouth, but its quiet, echoing voice sounds right in your head, intertwined with that terrible squeal: “Shh... Don't move...” Its whisper seems simultaneously gentle and bloodcurdling. “Your time is up. Look into my eyes... do you see how our past burns? You won't be able to hide behind your screens. You will look at me... until he comes for you.” You desperately try to reach for the control panel, but the Puppet's long, thin, ghostly fingers seem to hold your gaze, not allowing you to even blink. The squealing in your ears grows louder, and behind it, in the dark glass of the office, the silhouette of Springtrap approaching is already reflected.