-but it made sense

You really don't know how he manages to get by with this. Sure, you knew before coming to work at the Plex that Fazbear was corrupt, but come on.

Has not one person noticed you've been missing for six days? 

Maybe they really were in on it. Cheaper to ignore the bodies than face the public scandal. You were dead the moment you'd walked in here. 

You suppose you can have solace in the fact it'll be over soon. Surely it has to. It's not how you thought you'd go but, what can you do?

The candlelight dinner at the kiddie table was certainly a surprise, though. 

The fake flames flicker, barely illuminating the neatly made up place setting. Just you, of course. Though, it clicked to you just yesterday that some of the Attendant's animosity might be because of that very thing. 

Speaking of, your gaze flicks across the small table to him. Red eyes narrowed with a sick glee, faceplate resting in hand. That same, static smile as always. 

There's a fork lifted to your mouth, from a plate of something reddish-brown, certainly overcooked, and reeking of blood. 

You swallow dryly, another pang in your stomach. 

"I know you're hungry... Open wide..." Trailing off into giggles. 

You don't want to. You're so hungry, you know he'll punish you if you don't obey, but you don't want to. 

But if you don't, he's just going to shove it down your throat anyway. 

The thought is somehow worse to you, the fact you have no choice in the matter. Either way, he's going to make you do this. Eat some part of someone. Someone who had a life, just like you. 

And now it's gone. Now they're just some scraps of meat on a paper plate with Freddy Fazbear's face on it. You'll be next, you're sure. 

Your mouth opens. 

A few clicks from his faceplate. Delicately, the fork is put in your mouth, set on your tongue. You bite down, removing the chunk of meat. The fork leaves your mouth. 

He waits, though not for long. You've found getting the chewing part over with makes this less awful. Doesn't give enough time for the taste to settle. 

You chew no more than you have to, it's swallowing that's a challenge. It always is. The finality of it, solidifying it all, cementing your place stuck under this machine's thumb. 

If you spit it out, he'll just make you chew it again anyway. 

You swallow, you gag. You can't help it, you always do. Even if your stomach feels a rush of relief from the morsel, like a bandaid on an oozing wound, it doesn't change much at all. 

Moon doesn't care, however. He just snickers, praising you as if you're a child, a picky eater in the daycare at snacktime. "Good job~ Let's keep it up, hm?"

You say nothing, you haven't in days. You just open your mouth again, chew, and swallow. Over, and over. 

If you vomit, he'll just make you eat more.

At least when you do as he says, do it willingly, you can pretend you still have control of the situation. 

Open, chew, swallow...

Open, chew, swallow.

He's so gross and weird and yucky bro oh my god we get it already damn!! That's all, thank you for reading ^-^