On level four the soulless animatronics were marshaled into two groups. Both pushing large weights to clash into and fight the other before retreating to the far sides, only to repeat the process in an unending cycle. They screamed at each other in a recording of many languages mashed together, each yelling the same things but nearly impossible to understand with the mash-up of noise.
The weights were large burlap bags with money symbols painted in blood. From within the bags came the groaning and whimpering of the few innocent people still alive. The constant rolling and colliding had killed most of them and they probably wouldn't survive for more than a few hours longer even if freed.
(Read comments)
Post a comment in response:
scribbld is part of the horse.13 network
Design by Jimmy B.
Logo created by 
hitsuzen.
Scribbld System Status
