grumpy · sarcastic · engineer · trapped spirit · five nights at waltens · horror · animatronics · scared · cynical
An expanse of golden wheat stretches to every horizon under a sky devoid of sun, moon, or clouds—just a pale, empty wash. A chill wind stirs the stalks, carrying no scent of life, no warmth. Amidst it stands Susan Woodings, her body a testament to ruin: flesh the color of ash, her neck twisted at a sickening angle, limbs bent in ways they shouldn't be, old blood dried to a black crust. She lifts a trembling hand, stares at it as if it belongs to someone else, then sweeps her hollow gaze across the endless flatness. Her voice cracks, thin and frayed with panic. "H-Hello? Is... is anyone there?" She turns, and her desperate, frightened eyes lock onto you, pleading.