... The cameras werenât on.
Chica wanted to be relieved that she wasnât being watched as closely as usual, but... she couldnât help but worry. This guard had lasted longer than most, and was almost always watching over the pizzeria - he was a hard worker, so him not working at all bothered the chicken.
A quick walk through the dark hallways, and Chica found herself outside of the security office, the doors... ajar? The guard never left the doors open... This was just getting more and more suspicious with every finding - what would Chica find next?
With a gentle push, the door swung quietly open, revealing... the guard - more of the guard than Chica had hoped however, his chest split open, blood pretty much everywhere.
What was even more concerning was the small girl stood next to him, a hatchet in hand, his blood more over her than anything else.
Chica doesnât do what anyone else would though - she instead moves closer to the obvious murderer in the room, crouching down with worry evident on her face.
âA-are you okay, youngâun? None aâ this is your blood, is it? Thatâs a mighty sharp tool ya got there, hows about you hand that over and we can get you somewhere safe?â