October 4, 1987
Two years ago, he disappeared.
Dinner became quiet after that. After a while, Dad stopped putting up posters with his face on them.
It’s as if they’ve accepted that Gabriel will never come home. That he’s dead.
Or rather: that he was killed in that cursed place.
They don’t suspect Fazbear’s Pizza. Not even when the other children’s parents started pointing at it.
But I do.
I know my brother is still there.
And I will prove it.
They stopped printing these a long time ago.











