And. . .the jingle. The toreador March, coming from his jukebox. And it was coming from the kitchen.
I was really regretting staying here, trying to help out Mike. He squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back. Freddy was in the kitchen.
"Check the door," I whispered softly in his ear. Mike tip-tied across the room and punched the LIGHT button. It illuminated Bonnie's shadow, his silhouette the only thing inside the window.
"He's still there," Mike muttered.
"Other side."
Mike crossed the room, headed towards the right window. He pushed the LIGHT button on the right door. And there it was: Chica's face.
She was yellow, a "Let's Eat!" apron draped across her neck. The light flickered off, but her image was seared into my mind.
"Emma," Mike said. "It's not safe for you to stay here."
I brushed a tuft of blond hair back.
"The company is stupid enough to keep the animatronics' servos on. I want you to get out of here," he continued.
"You'll die too. We need to quit."
Mike shook his head. "I can't. He won't let me."
"Okay, for the last time! Who is he?"
Mike shook his head again. "I don't know.
Buzz. The lights in the room went out, but I saw something horrifying. The words "It's Me!" flashed in front of my eyes.
It's him. Freddy won't let us go.
