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It had been months since they were left alone, or perhaps years, Mangle couldn’t tell only that it had been so long since she had seen a human that her memory began to distort what they even looked like. In her memory they were a hazy outline, voices high and shrill, excited shouts that usually led to pain.
There were some memories though, ones that she cherished above any other, the times when she peered into the main party room and saw Toy Chica there, a bright smile on her face as she entertained the children.
For Toy Chica life was an endless party, or so it had seemed to Mangle. A far cry from the pained existence she herself lived in. It was true she couldn’t feel physical pain, but the emotional damage scarred her, left her aching and broken inside, a shattered thing that barely resembled the beautiful fox she once was.
Despite all that though she had lived for the times she could watch the chicken uninterrupted, enjoyed the way her face lit up, the way her eyes sparkled brightly from the attention she got.
Now those eyes were faded, but not quite shut yet, they still peered at Mangle weakly but Mangle feared it would be any day now that she would loose her. Without the children it seemed that Toy Chica had lost a part of herself, something vital that Mangle didn’t seem to possess after everything she had been through.
Unable to do anything, Mangle simply laid with Toy Chica, wires and broken limbs wrapped around the chicken’s still form. Her marred, disfigured hand held Toy Chica’s, the yellow plastic dull and faded against the dirty gray of her own. She hummed softly, the sound coming out of her broken voice-box distorted and tinny.
Toy Chica smiled all the same though, a familiar sparkle coming into her eyes before she finally closed them.