Night 5 Continued:

Kitchen Chaos

Cartman backed toward the kitchen's exit, his eyes on the pool of water just beyond the window. He remembered the waterfall—the one place the animatronics hopefully wouldn't follow. With a final glance at the animatronics, he sprinted toward the main dining area. The waterfall awaited him, its roar drowning out the animatronics' pursuit. Cartman waded into the pool, the water soothing his wounds. Freddy and Chica stood at the edge, their eyes glowing with frustration. They couldn't cross the water—they were bound by their programming.—but that didn't mean they'd give up. As Cartman caught his breath, he knew this was only a temporary respite. Cartman's legs trembled as he retreated deeper into the pool. The adrenaline that had fueled his fight now drained away, leaving him exhausted and terrified. He clung to the edge, his fingers digging into the rough stone. The water lapped at his waist, and he shivered. "They won't come in," Cartman whispered to himself. "They won't come in." But the memory of their relentless pursuit haunted him—their metal claws, their glowing eyes, their unnatural movements. The could tear apart other hiding spots, dismantle barricades, and hunt down anyone who dared to defy their twisted existence, but he was safe in the pool. He glanced up at the ceiling wondering how he'd ended up in this nightmare. Casa Bonita had promised fun, laughter, and cheesy enchiladas—not this desperate fight for survival. Cartman's mind raced, replaying the events that had led him here—the fake note to his friends, the nights of terror, and now this watery sanctuary. "I'm safe," he repeated, trying to convince himself. But the fear lingered. He imagined their cold, metal hands reaching for him, their jaws snapping shut. He was imagining other victims—their lifeless bodies dragged away, never to be seen again. Cartman wouldn't become one of their victims. And so, he made a silent vow. He wouldn't leave the pool until morning. He'd cling to the edge, his eyes fixed on the animatronics, waiting for the first light of day. If they wanted him, they'd have to drag him out of the water. He'd fight, scream, and claw his way back if he had to. As the night wore on, Cartman's exhaustion battled with his determination. The water embraced him, its coolness numbing his wounds. He wondered if he'd ever see daylight again, if he'd ever taste freedom beyond the walls of Casa Bonita. But for now, the pool was his refuge—a fragile sanctuary in a world gone mad. And so, Cartman waited, his eyes never leaving the animatronics. They too watched, their glowing eyes burning into his soul. But he wouldn't yield. Not tonight. Not ever.

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