Chapter Text
Underneath all of the glow and shine of the pizzaplex, lays a strange room. A room full of notes. Notes containing strange messages. Poorly drawn pictures of birtday themes and horribly written text. Slowly getting better. These notes were not made by a stressed human, but a worried spirit.
It has no idea how, but somehow, this spirit is able to write onto the many post it notes. The spirit is worried, he's worried for someone's safety. Even though there's a slim possibility that this person will ever enter this hidden room, it's never too early to be prepared. Just in case this person, or anyone in matter, enters this room.
The spirit makes a worried sound as it writes another message onto a post it note. He draws three presents.
He can feel it. Something is wrong. He has to go to the main part of the pizzeria to make sure.
He has to.
He walks.
Walks.
And walks.
Until he can't.
Something pulls him back.
Something seems to lock chains around his wrists and ancles and drags him back. Towards something. An animatronic.
The spirit knows exactly what's going on, and he panics. He can't go through something like that again.
The spirit feels his soul attaching onto the cold metal and trapping him inside the animatronic.
He couldn't do this again. He wanted to leave. He didn't want to be trapped.
But he had to make sure he wouldn't come back, and that someone else would be safe.