Predatory instinct

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For the angry, restless souls they were, the urge to kill for the animatronics was overpowering.

Tonight they stood guard as usual, but instead of zombies and bombs, their minds were set on other matters; their food supplies were dwindling and it wouldn't be long before they ran out all together causing devastation among the clan they were meant to protect. The robots got given a different job tonight, however. Soon after starting their regular night shift they were told to scout the area for anything edible. It warmed their servos to be given such important roles to play.

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Chica paused after picking up a loaf of bread. She turned it in her hands checking for mould and after finding all the fluffy green and white on one corner, the chicken placed the bread back where it had been found. Keen eyes drifted over a box of oat biscuits that were virtually unscathed. -an excellent find. Bonnie had found plenty of vegetables, all rotten and far past their sell by date.

They were just about to turn a corner on the way back to their home when Foxy froze, ears pricked, nose twitching and hissed at his friends to get down. A plane, not one carrying bombs, came down to land. The animatronics watched from behind a low wall as the loading hatch opened and humans stepped into the open with armour and weapons. All of which had no combat training whatsoever and were scared senseless. The chances of them being killed my bombs were high, so were the chances of getting torn apart by the living dead.

Rule number one of apocalypse survival; don't watch your plane leave. As soon as their backs were turned, staring up at the sky and the plane in the distance, a hoard of zombies rushed in. Most ignored the fact that they were carrying guns. People ran this way and that, stumbled and fell, lost shoes and sometimes stopped to pick them up, but more often left them abandoned, not daring to delay.

Rule number two of apocalypse survival; never give your gun away. Three teens who had survived this long approached the group clearly not zombies. One had bitten her own arm and dripped ink over the top making a pretty convincing 'zombie bite'. Her friend had asked for this girl to be killed and got handed a gun. He aimed it at her head, quivering slightly, and ran. Followed by his buddies, they hurried off with a brand new and loaded gun.

"Noobs." Goldie tutted to himself.

Bonnie edged closer to the humans cautiously only to slip on the glistening ice and hit the ground with a clang, catching the attention of the frightened humans. As they opened fire, surprised yowls of protest came from the robots and even cursing in words that cannot be written for the sake of young readers.

"Freddy??" Tony called.

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