Fnaf Glam Rock Animatronics Novels & Stories

she glances at the bulge in my pants. "Oh, you’re definitely going to suck my cock, Kira." I rub her parted lips with a thumb. "Wear that lipstick I like tomorrow." Her eyes widen when understanding dawns on her. Did she think this was a one-time thing? I meant it when I said I was going to act out all those fantasies of hers as well as some of my own. ______ Shane’s text message arrives as I reach my car. [I found Grisha’s lackey.] It’s accompanied by the picture of a man stripped to his underwear and strung up the roof of Shane’s favorite spot—the container he prefers to call ‘purgatory’.

He watched as the tiny 3D laser printers inside the room’s walls built the inside of a dark massive nightclub with emerald-green flashing strobe lights and holographic 3D people, who were dancing around Mark and 2Pac to the beat of EDM fused with Latin hip-hop. “Hey, Pac, you ready to get your ass kicked!?” Mark shouted across the way at 2Pac, who stood motionless with his muscular titanium alloy plated arms folded in front of him. “I know you can hear me! We don’t have to fight each other! Just because that lady built your ass doesn’t mean you have to always do what she tells you. You’re an intelligent robot. I know you can override those system files inside that metal, bullet-resistant sku

And—I remember now—that furball outside was from Crescent Moon. Heat warmed Roy’s face when he realized he hadn’t seen anything new since stepping foot in the house. The same smell that had wafted from the first animatronic perfumed the space, speaking of fresh grease on old, steel limbs. He shook his head, getting more pissed by the second. This isn’t a haunted house; it’s a goddamned shrine to his own career! He’ll probably keep it open all year-round. Stroking that big Hollywood ego. “Prick. Goddamned prick!” Roy whispered in a sputter when he again coaxed his feet to move. Any fear still lingering inside him quickly gave way to rage. He identified each of his rival’s creations as they ca

"Is that a problem?" The corner of my mouth twitched. "I can do it, but it will cost extra. Other ghosts are one thousand dollars per head. You have 16 heads, so…" "Money isn't a problem." The Demon Boss raised his hand with confidence. "Our viewership has shot up recently, and the budget has grown along with it. We're no longer some tiny, cheap operation. 16 heads it is." My eyes lit up. By that calculation, just doing the Demon Boss' makeup alone would earn me 16 thousand dollars.

I said while taking a pull from my water. “But I made a special request,” she slurred with a toothy smile. “Put a hump in your back and shake your rump!” blared from the speakers. “Awe, bitch. You didn’t?” I sighed. “Yes, I did and what you’re about to do is hop that phat ass off that stool and I’m gonna record you throwing that ass and send it to your man so that he’ll be good and ready for you by the time you get home.”

​From the depths of the incandescent white walls, three colossal figures emerged. ​They were the Master Animators, eleven-foot, faceless entities forged from solid, polished gold-leaf armor, their chests open to reveal massive, spinning brass wheels that churned through thousands of master typeface stamps every second. They carried no weapons, but their long, multi-jointed arms ended in heavy silver styluses that vibrated with a high-frequency alignment pulse designed to rewrite the physical anatomy of any rogue variable that entered their margins.