My name’s Brian. I’m 19 years old and recently graduated high school. Right now, I’m jobless, so money is tight, but I still have enough to keep me going thanks to my parents. I’ve been feeling a lot of heavy emotions lately—sadness, loneliness, even when I’m around others. Video games are my escape, pulling me into another world and making my worries fade. That’s why I stream on Twitch, although I’m not a big streamer. I usually get around 5-8 people chatting, and while it’s not much, it makes me happy to see familiar faces return.
One evening, around 6 PM, I was streaming when I noticed a strange new message in my chat. The user had no name and a black profile picture. I figured it was a glitch, so I refreshed, but it stayed the same. The only thing they sent was a link to a website I hadn’t seen before. I thought it might be a game suggestion and said, “Welcome to the stream! I think Twitch is broken since I can’t see your name, but I see you sent a link. Is it a game you want me to try?”
The user replied with just one word: “Play.” I wasn’t sure if this whole edgy look was an act, but I responded, “Well, I guess that means you’d like me to play this game!” Clicking the link immediately started a download, which made me panic. When it finished, though, I saw it was a game called Five Nights at Prototype Fredbear’s. I told my stream, “Looks like we’re in for some horror tonight! I’m not big on horror games, but I can handle a Five Nights at Freddy’s game.”
I clicked ‘New Game’ and was dropped into an office that looked a lot like the one from Five Nights at Freddy’s. As I played, I noticed my viewer count was going up. I’d hit 15 viewers, more than I’d ever had, and the chat was active. “This is creepy,” one viewer said. “Don’t get caught!” another added. “I could make it this far…” someone else joked. My chat was blowing up with messages, and I felt like a famous streamer. For a moment, all the loneliness melted away. That night, I went to bed feeling happy for the first time in a while.
The next day was business as usual: breakfast, spending time with my parents, then getting ready to stream. As soon as I went live, that nameless user returned and dropped another link. “Oh, welcome back!” I said, “You got here fast. Looks like you’ve got another game for me?” I was surprised by how quickly they joined the stream, but I brushed it off and clicked the link. This time, the game was Five Nights at Prototype Fredbear’s 2. I loaded it up, and it was a noticeable improvement from the first one, with an original-looking office and scarier animatronics.
Just like the night before, I got 15 viewers, and the chat was buzzing with comments. “Wow, this is new!” “These animatronics are even scarier.” “I still could make this look easy…” It was exhilarating. I even got jumpscared a few times, which caught me off guard, but I kept going. After I finished the game, I ended the stream and went to bed.
When I woke up, though, I found myself standing in my living room, holding a phone with my Twitch chat open. “Whoa, this house looks cool!” one viewer wrote. “I wonder what horror we’ll see in this game!” another added. I was confused, but then I saw a message appear in front of me: “Finish Off All Entities. 0/1.” I assumed it was a dream and played along, wandering around until I reached my bedroom. Inside, I saw myself sitting at my computer, streaming. The chat exploded with comments like, “That must be the entity!” “Finish him! XD” I didn’t know what to do, so I hid in the closet until I woke up.
Later, I started streaming again, and once more, the nameless user sent a link. It was Five Nights at Prototype Fredbear’s 3. “Looks like we’re onto the third one,” I said. “Let’s see if it’s as scary as the last one!” My usual 15 viewers were there, cheering me on as I explored a game set in a house with a single animatronic. The comments were the same: “This house looks cool!” “I wonder what’s next!” “I could remake this…” I felt a chill as I played.
Then, I saw a message that froze me: “Behind you.” I looked over my shoulder, but there was nothing there. The nameless user then wrote, “Closet.” I was shaking as I approached my closet. It was locked, which was strange since I never lock it. I kicked it open, and inside was… a corpse holding a phone. My chat showed one viewer—the nameless user—who wrote, “That must be the entity. Finish him! XD.”
Credited to Bizkit009