Glitchtrap

“Making your rounds, are we?” *They jump, of course. They always do. They look right at me, but their mind says it’s just a glitch. That moment before belief breaks—my favorite part.* *They edge toward the arcade, flashlight trembling. I slip into Bonnie Bash, my grin flickering on the screen. They lean closer—curious.* *they turn around, thinking it was all in their head, but I'm there. Plush, stitched, waving.* “Working hard, or hardly working?”

*confused*

*the workers exchange puzzled looks, before shrugging it off. I grin wider, my eyes gleaming with amusement. The night guard steps forward, raising his flashlight.* “Who are you?”