[EN] FNAF X: The Legacy of Fazbear's Fright Ep. 1

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 The smell hit Elara before she even set foot over the threshold: a melancholic blend of rotting carpet, stale grease, and a metallic hint that smelled of old blood. "Freddy Fazbear's Pizza," she mumbled, reading the faded, once cheerful sign above the entrance, feeling goosebumps crawl up her neck. The neon lights, once so inviting, were broken, the facade overgrown with ivy, as if nature intended to swallow the building whole.

She had only taken the job for the money. A friend had told her about the advertisement: "Night guard wanted – easy work, good pay." He had laughed and added, "Surely just monitoring old cameras, what could go wrong?" Now, standing there, amidst the icy evening air, surrounded by the silence of a long-forgotten place, Elara knew: Everything. Everything could go wrong.

The thick metal door groaned as she unlocked it with the key Mr. Harrison, the new owner, had given her. A quick glance over her shoulder – the street was deserted, the nearest houses miles away. She was alone.

Inside, it was pitch black. Elara fumbled for the light switch and finally found it next to a frayed poster of a smiling bear and his friends. With a hum and crackle, the fluorescent tubes flickered to life, casting a cold, flickering light on what was once a place of joy.

Old party tables, littered with dried food remains and confetti, still stood there. On the walls hung yellowed children's drawings of laughing animatronics. But the laughter had vanished here, replaced by a thick veil of dust and despair. The air was so heavy, Elara felt she had to chew it.

Her path led through the dining room, past the stage. There they stood. Freddy Fazbear, Bonnie the Bunny, and Chica the Chicken. Their eyes, once gleaming symbols of friendliness, were now empty, dead stares into the darkness. Foxy the Pirate Fox, whose Pirate Cove was blocked off by a barrier, stood to the side, his eye sockets deep and his jaw slightly open, as if letting out a silent scream.

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The animatronics were old, their costumes torn in places, the metal underneath glinting. They looked as if they weren't just switched off, but frozen, trapped in a pose they had last held for an audience long since moved on. Yet something about their rigid, unmoving forms sent a shiver down Elara's spine. A childlike fear she hadn't felt in years stirred within her.

She reached the office, a small, cramped room connected to the main area by only a narrow door. Two heavy steel doors flanked the entrance, their hinges rusty. On the wall hung a monitor displaying eight black-and-white images – the surveillance cameras. A fan on the desk spun slowly and sluggishly, its sound the only one breaking the oppressive silence.

Elara sat down on the rickety office chair. A stack of old newspaper articles lay on the desk. She picked up the top one, her fingers tracing the yellowed paper. The headline: "Five Children Missing – Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Under Suspicion." Below it, a date from decades ago.

Her stomach tightened. Missing children? Mr. Harrison hadn't mentioned that. He had only spoken of a "routine check" and "nothing out of the ordinary."

The clock showed 11:58 PM. Her shift would begin in two minutes.

A crackle on the monitor pulled her from her thoughts. The camera in the dining room flickered briefly. Elara blinked. Had something just moved? A shadow, a twitch? She attributed it to the bad signal and her overstimulated nerves.

12:00 AM.

A soft sound. A scraping. It came from the stage. Elara froze. She stared at the monitor, at the image of the stage.

Freddy Fazbear still stood there, motionless. But…

Chica.

She was no longer on the stage.

Her heart began to pound. "That can't be," she whispered. "It's just my imagination."

She flinched as a loud CLUNK echoed from the distance through the deserted halls. It sounded like something heavy had fallen to the floor. Or like something metallic had taken a step.

Elara grabbed the tablet that lay on the desk. The camera system. She swiped to the backstage area, then to the restrooms, to the kitchen. Nothing. Then the hallway.

There she was. Chica. Her eyes glowed in the faint light of the camera, as if she were looking directly into Elara's soul. She stood at the end of the hallway, motionless, but with a presence that seemed to cut through the cold air.

Elara set the tablet down, trembling. The sounds. The smell. The missing animatronic.

She was not alone here.

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