Night Two:

Waterfalls and Caves

Cartman’s excitement hadn’t waned. If anything, it had intensified. Casa Bonita—the place of his dreams—was revealing its secrets one moonlit corner at a time. The Mexican village had been a feast for his eyes, but now he hungered for more. He wanted to explore every nook, every cranny, and maybe—just maybe—find that secret nacho waterfall. The waterfall beckoned. Its crystalline stream cascaded down jagged rocks, creating a soothing melody. Cartman leaned over the stone railing, imagining himself as an intrepid explorer charting new territories. The moonlight danced on the water, and for a moment, he forgot he was actually inside. “This is it,” he whispered. “The enchanted waterfall of Casa Bonita. I bet it’s powered by unicorn tears or something equally magical.” But then he heard it—a faint rustling, like leaves in a gentle breeze. Cartman straightened, scanning the area. The waterfall’s mist clung to his face, and he looked around in amazement. And there they were—the animatronics. Freddy Fazbear stood nearby, his mechanical joints flexing. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, and Cartman’s heart raced. Beside him, Chica the Chicken twitched, feathers ruffling. Even Bonnie the Bunny shifted, as if stretching after a long slumber. “No way,” Cartman breathed. “They’re real. They’re actually moving!” He took a step back, his mind racing. These weren’t the friendly, frozen figures he’d seen during the day. No, these were creatures of the night—creatures that belonged in horror games and ghost stories. Their painted smiles seemed sinister now, their metal frames imposing. “Okay, Cartman,” he muttered. “Remember your survival skills. What did you learn from those Five Nights at Freddy’s games?” But this wasn’t a game. This was real life, and the animatronics were inching closer. Freddy’s gaze locked onto Cartman, and Chica’s beak opened and closed, emitting a faint hum. Bonnie’s ears twitched. “Maybe they just want to sing,” Cartman said, his voice trembling. “Yeah, that’s it. They’re going to break into a catchy tune, and I’ll join in. We’ll have a little midnight fiesta.” But the animatronics didn’t sing. Instead, they moved with purpose. Freddy took a step forward, and Cartman’s legs turned to jelly. He stumbled backward, crashing into the stone railing. The waterfall roared, drowning out his panicked breaths. “I’m just a kid!” Cartman thought. “I’m not equipped for this! Where’s my imaginary sword now?” Chica’s beak snapped shut, and she tilted her head. Bonnie’s eyes glinted. Freddy’s clawed hand reached out, and Cartman’s survival instincts kicked in. He turned and sprinted toward the cave. “Maybe they won’t follow me,” he gasped. “Maybe they’re bound by some animatronic code—like ‘Thou shalt not chase chubby kids into caves.’” But when he glanced back, they were right behind him. Their movements were deliberate, relentless. The cave’s darkness swallowed him, and Cartman stumbled over rocks, heart pounding. “Night two,” he panted. “And the nightmare gets real.”

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