FNAF - Spare parts

>Taking this job was a mistake.
>You would have quit after the first night, but you REALLY needed the cash.
>So you persevered, soldiering on with your first whole week, even taking some overtime.
>Choosing to spend an extra night avoiding killer animatronics is pure stupidity, but you still did it.
>Truth be told, you were getting good at this, easily dodging the animatronics attempts to enter the office and throttle you lifeless.
>Maybe that skill was what pissed your faceless boss off. Clearly, he didn't want you to live anymore.
>Why else would he deactivate all the circuitry in the room?
>That was a big surprise, sitting all smug in your chair, reaching to flick through the cameras, only to find them all deactivated.
>And the doors too, no longer working, no longer keeping you safe from imminent death.
>Still, that was 3 hours ago. Better to focus on the task at hand.
>Not dying.

...

>It was eerie.
>Crouched under the table in the maintenance room, you watched one of the animatronics walk past the door.
>You could hear the soft whirring of servos as it moved, the plastic animatronic shell rattling quietly as it left.
>Watching them through the safety of a camera lens, you'd never heard the noises they made before. It was unsettling.
>Sticking your head out, you see if the coast is clear. No sounds in the distance, at least not close anyway.
>As you get out from under the table, you suddenly notice the smell.
>It stinks. Stinks of something dead. You check your watch.
>2:47am.
>You remember the last bit of advice your now-deceased phone buddy gave out. More like a request really.
>"Hey, uh, if you get a chance? C-can you maybe check the back room? I-I always wondered what was in those spare heads.."
>Nervously glancing about, you reach out for one of the heads on the shelf and pick it up.
>Cold and smooth in your hands, the head is pitted with battle damage from years of being abused by rowdy kids during pizza parties.
>The synthetic fluff around the eyes is stained, a mixture of brown, black and yellow marking the ring around the eye socket.
>Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and look inside.
>Nothing. No skull, just the usual metal frames to attach it to an exoskeleton like the one on the table over there.
>You eye the exoskeleton.
>It eyes you back, not moving. Thank god.
>No body parts in this head, but something is definitely rotting in here.
>As you place the spare chica head back on the shelf, you hear a sudden noise of plastic on linoleum.
>Oh shit. Hide.
>Panicking, you dive into a nearby box of spare parts in the corner of the room, burying yourself under a pile of old animatronic shells and metal spare parts.
>You peek out through the pile, watching as Bonnie walks into the room.
>He stops, staring into the security camera in the top corner.
>Something shifts in the box. You stifle a gasp.
>3:22am.
>As you watch, Bonnie turns towards the box and stares, then simply leaves, pulling the door shut behind him.
>A click sounds out as the door locks, the room darkening to pitch black.
>He knew.
>You stand up. Something wraps around one of your legs, metal tightening like an anaconda around your thigh.
>With a yank, you pull your leg free, tearing something else out of the box with it, metal parts clattering onto the floor.
>In the darkness, you can just about make out a strange chaotic form, limbs extending out like some sort of indian god.
>A raspy metallic voice calls out through the gloom, as a single white dot flickers to life.
>"M-M-M-M-MIKE."
>And as your eyes adjust to the dark, you finally see what was in that box.
>3:30am.