bekoobove - Tumblr blog

bekoobove · 2 months

Text

The City of The Glass Dove

“I think that’s my pen, Johnson.” I prodded. I had no reason to, of course.

Everett Johnson, my next-door cubicle neighbor of seven years, frowned. “I’m pretty sure I have a blue pen like this one. To be fair, I found it on the floor between us…”

I knew Johnson, just like me, was internally amused at the idea of either of us needing to be fair. It’d been decades since that had been the job of people like us.

“...But still, I’m certain this is mine.”

On cue, we both looked at the camera suspended in the ceiling. Its small red light glowed, as it always had. Without another word, we resumed our work. We had no reason to waste company time over an issue that would be settled overnight.

After the day’s work was complete, I headed to the speedrail station. I always arrived about ten minutes before the speedrail itself did, meaning I always had time to admire the nearby Network Dome. One of several throughout the city, it was surrounded by a small plaza filled with trees and benches, to beautify it I suppose. Not that it needed beautifying- it could have been the ugliest thing in the world and still earn its place of honor every night.

It was a little more ugly today, though. Red streaks of spattered paint covered much of its silvery surface, spelling out several phrases. Among them: FREE YOURSELF! THE NETWORK ROBBED US OF WHAT MAKES US HUMAN! WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF IT ALL BREAKS! In addition, there were several renditions of the same symbol- a side profile of a person with a small rectangular hole in their head leaking blood. A person with their port torn out.

Instinctively, I rubbed the area where my port was located, just above my right ear. The concept of it being gone was disturbing, not just for the injury but for what it would mean for me. What would I do without it? What could I do?

That graffiti had to be the work of the Regressives- a name they had never used for themselves, but fitting for any semi-organized group who opposed the Network. As dangerous as non-Network linked individuals sounded on paper, they were kind of all bark and no bite- more meaningless symbols that could easily be cleaned away like the graffiti than an actual threat to the city. As if to prove it, a small fleet of Network Maintenance Drones arrived, and began spraying water on the dome. The red diluted to pink in the spray, and began running off the dome in thick rivulets. I smiled as I watched, just as my speed rail arrived.

Dinner that night was delicious, as it was every night. Morgan, my wife, and I took turns cooking each night, and the Network had ensured we knew each other and our childrens’ tastes like our own. Our children- Sam and Laura- provided the only sore spot of the evening, fighting over who knows what. Not something for me and Morgan to concern ourselves with- the Network would resolve that- but it was a little irritating. Still, all things considered, it had been another near-perfect day.

Finally, time for bed. Time for today’s strife to be undone. Morgan was already fast asleep, plugged in. I smiled at her, wondering what conflicts the Network would rectify for her throughout the night.

Like I had a million times before, I grabbed the two small wires which of course led down into the floor, through a complicated tangle for about a mile, before eventually linking up with the nearest Network Dome. I carefully held them to the side of my head and plugged them into the ports embedded there. There was a satisfying click, and the familiar sensation of mental data analysis began. The Network’s program scanned my memories, taking note of many things, most importantly my moments of annoyance. With Everett Johnson for claiming my pen was his, with the Regressives for their discomforting graffiti, with my children for their argument. The Network processed these grievances, and filed them away to resolve before I awoke.

These were hardly the most grand problems I’d ever tasked the Network with resolving, I thought as I climbed into bed. All the Network had to do for the pen was review our building’s security footage, determine I was the pen’s true owner, and relay this information to Johnson as he slumbered. As for the others- the graffiti was gone and my childrens’ conflict was being settled at this very moment, so all that was left to deal with was my own emotions. I climbed into bed, sure of what I would dream about as I slept. I would gain a better understanding of the circumstances that led Johnson to believe the pen was his, what my children had fought over, and be reminded, as I had many times before, why the Regressives acted the way they did. That was what the Network was for after all.

It connected you with everyone. It gave you full knowledge of their life, their troubles, their mistakes- it forced you to understand yesterday’s affronts by the time tomorrow rolled around. Not only was the Network a near foolproof method for resolving injustices, it essentially automated the old society process of “empathy”.

Honestly, this idea that this task of attempting to understand the behavior of someone who had harmed you, to sympathize with them, to move past trespasses that often wouldn’t be erased- all of that had once been the responsibility of the individual was bizarre. It was an old burden, eradicated by the Network, so I rarely gave it much thought, but it still baffled me that such an important facet of life had been left up to easily failable humans.

I didn’t give it much thought that night. I quickly drifted off into peaceful slumber.

Dreamless slumber.

I realized it the moment I woke up. I had no memory of anything from last night- no scenes played in my head explaining the affronts of others. For the first time in my life, I didn’t know why I had been wronged.

I yanked the cables out of my port, checking to see if they’d broken. Nope- they were still plugged into the wall. I turned to Morgan, only to see her sitting up in bed, looking just as shell-shocked. “I…I didn’t…” she stammered.

Without another word, I leaped out of bed and dashed to the living room, where our TV was. I grabbed the remote, clicked on the first news channel I could find, and…

“...at this point in time, eight of the city’s fourteen Domes have been reported as temporarily out of commission. The terrorist attack, believed to be the work of the Regressive Movement, occurred at 2:42 AM…”

The grim tone the newscaster spoke with didn’t even begin to match the feeling of dread sinking in my stomach. The Regressives had actually done something- the worst thing they could have done. For the first time I could remember, I felt angry, not just because of the severity of their actions…but because this was the first time I had been mentally capable of feeling that way. Without the aid of the Network, I couldn’t even begin to rationalize their actions. In fact, I…

No. I had to ignore those thoughts. The newscaster was already relaying a statement from the Emergency Network Maintenance Commission (the only one they’d ever given) that the downed Domes would be up and running again within hours. I knew my office had emergency Network Connection points, so when the Network went back up, I could immediately have these thoughts processed and purged.

I got ready for work as quickly as I could. Morgan was still in bed, so I relayed the news to her. I suppose I could have spent more time comforting her, or pulling apart my children whose fight from yesterday was ongoing, but those problems would be resolved soon, and I honestly didn’t really feel like it anyway. Soon enough I left, and tried to act like everything was normal.

It wasn’t, of course. I could tell from the moment I boarded the speedrail. Some people seemed normal, if a little uneasy. From the districts of the six unharmed Domes, I presumed. The rest had looks in their eyes- looks of irritation, anger. They looked like any minute, they would snap.

I was eager to get off the speedrail. As I did, I noticed the Dome from yesterday. I could see a large crack in its curvature, with a dark smoke emanating from within. Maintenance Drones surrounded the structure, each equipped with a variety of tools. I felt reassured, knowing this would all be over soon.

I tried to keep a cheerful face as I walked into the office, politely greeting my coworkers as I made my way to my cubicle. When I arrived, I noticed the glowing light in the nearby camera was dim. It wasn’t the most chilling indicator of last night’s attack that I’d seen today, but it still made me uneasy. That camera had been a constant for as long as I’d worked there, and it had often helped resolve conflicts with-

Everett Johnson.

I heard sounds of movement from his cubicle. Sure enough, he was there, settling into his chair, absentmindedly clicking my pen. He noticed me peeking and paused. “Oh, hey.”

“My…my pen.” I pointed, somewhat stupidly.

“Oh, were you in one of the downed districts? Crazy, right? Didn’t think the Regressives had it in ‘em.” He chuckled. “Yeah, anyway, my district wasn’t down, and the Network determined the pen was mine.”

That very same statement, had it come from the Network, would have silenced me immediately. But from Johnson, it felt worthless. How was I even supposed to know he wasn’t lying? I didn’t know where he lived, the Network may have been down for him too. Maybe he’d taken advantage of that in order to keep the pen- my pen.

This was the first time in my entire existence that I’d had to wait more than a day for what I deserved. Sure, the Network would probably be back up soon, but justice even hours overdue felt wrong. More than that, I felt like every annoyance I’d ever experienced towards Johnson was bubbling up, without the Network’s nightly suppressant. The moments that followed seemed to last eternities, as they kept building, and building, until…

I felt nothing but hatred for Everett Johnson. It was an entirely new, burning sensation. And it was exhilarating. I wanted nothing more than to act on this feeling, as much as possible. And I did.

Without another word, I rushed at him. He had already turned back to his desk, clearly assuming our conversation was over. He was right, ultimately. Johnson turned back slightly, just in time to see my fist fly towards him. It collided with his face, and I winced slightly as my knuckle slammed into his tough jaw. It hurt, but judging by the shriek he emitted it hurt him more, so I kept going. Before he could even react, I grabbed his head with both hands and slammed it into his desk. There was a satisfying crack, and when I lifted his head back up I saw blood pouring out. It reminded me of the paint washing off the Dome yesterday. Was this what the Regressives had been fighting for all these years? Why had I ever opposed them? Why had anybody?

I slammed his head again for good measure, then dumped his limp body on the floor. I didn’t know if he was knocked out or dead, but I didn't care. I couldn’t even stop myself from laughing. When I turned, I saw several other coworkers staring in stunned silence, probably drawn by Johnson’s obnoxious scream. A few looked utterly horrified- a few others looked intrigued, almost eager. I couldn’t have cared less, of course. I was free. For the first time in my life, I was free.

You know the rest of the story, of course. An emergency squad was deployed by the Network once it was repaired a few hours later, and I was forcibly plugged in. Everything from yesterday was resolved, which included my discovery that Everett Johnson had been right- the pen was his. I considered apologizing to him, but I knew the Network would relay those sentiments while he recovered over the following weeks in the Medical Center.

My “antisocial outburst” as the condition became known, was one of almost a hundred such incidents to occur that morning. I’m certain that with every minute that passed, that number would have increased exponentially. Since that day, the media has theorized that the damage to the Network Domes was just a cover for the Regressives’ true goals- hacking as many Network users as possible with a computer virus designed to make them act violently. They have not come up with a reasonable explanation as to how this was possible, which makes sense because that theory is complete bullshit.

We who experienced these outbursts rarely speak of that day, except to profess remorse and pray the Network ensures nothing like it ever happens again. We all know we are lying, because we all know what we felt that day.

Deep down, we hope for the Network to shatter once more, and to be allowed to hate again.

A dystopian story I wrote a while back. Let me know what you think.

#dystopia #scifi #future #humanity

1 note · View note

bekoobove · 4 months

Text

"...Give me the strength to right my wrongs. Give me the courage to do what's right..." Jessica, from the Tales From the Pizzaplex story Frailty.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #tales from the pizzaplex #horror #jessica fnaf #lineless art

3 notes · View notes

bekoobove · 8 months

Text

Fazbear Fears #24: Case Closed

…Harvey wants to uncover the secrets behind a disappearance, but might just lose himself in the pursuit of answers…

Harvey didn’t blame people if they thought it was creepy. But he couldn’t help it.

He picked up on small details others couldn’t, usually connected to recurring habits. Things even the person doing them might not notice.

Angela, his neighbor, was a prime example. Years of living in side-by-side apartments had taught him two things about her. Every weekday she would leave at about 8:00 and return at 6:30, usually with her boyfriend. That was the status quo. That was normal.

But normal had taken a sabbatical over the last month. First, Angela’s boyfriend has started coming less and less. One night, Harvey heard them arguing loudly through the thin walls, then her front door slam open as someone stormed off angrily. The visits stopped after that.

The newest development was much more concerning, though. It had been a week since Angela had left her room. Every day, at 8:00 and 6:30, Harvey would listen intently, straining for the sound of her door opening, of her going out or in, but it never came.

And that’s what led him here, kneeling in front of that very door, wiggling a twisted bobby pin around in the lock.

Their apartment was cheap, the locks nothing fancy. Harvey hoped that would mean the two videos on lock-picking would be enough to get him in. He kept shifting it, straining his ears for the tiny cylinders shifting, occasionally looking around to make sure no one was coming, when…

Click. The door swung open.

Harvey quickly stood up and made his way inside, shutting the door behind him. He was half flushed with success, and half in a complete panic. “Oh god.” He muttered. “I broke into someone’s apartment…”

He couldn’t be caught. If his suspicions were correct, Angela wouldn’t be returning, but he remained on edge.

Slowly he searched the apartment, and didn’t see anything odd. He was really starting to worry he’d done this all for nothing. However, when he looked in her bedroom, that possibility vanished.

A chill went down his spine- not just from the tense situation, but from the cold. Angela’s bedroom was freezing. In horror, he noticed the window was smashed open, the icy winter wind blowing in.

Harvey peeked out the window. He realized that the rusty old fire escape was right next to it.

Someone had climbed up and broken in. Someone had abducted her.

Harvey began hyperventilating. All his life, he’d read books where someone was kidnapped, and a brave hero went off to find them. But this was no story. His neighbor, the woman he lived next to, had been taken by some madman. Had Harvey been in his apartment when it happened, only ten feet and a wall away as she was dragged out the window?

Whatever. As much as Harvey wished he could be that brave hero, he couldn’t. Time to call the police.

“911, what’s your emergency?” The operator answered.

“Uh, hi.” Harvey answered as he began to make his way out of the apartment. “I haven’t seen my neighbor in a week. She’s normally quite…sociable with me, so I’m starting to get worried.”

That was a lie, of course. Angela had never spoken a word to him, but that seemed more palatable than informing the police he’d memorized the schedule and habits of a recently kidnapped woman.

“Ok. Where are you located?”

“We both live in the Oak Heights apartment complex. She lives in room 224, I’m right next to her.”

“We’ll send someone over to look. They should be there in ten minutes.”

“Right. Thank you.” Harvey hung up. He had to get out of here quickly.

He reentered the living room, but noticed something amiss. Sitting on the table was a large, rectangular box.

Harvey stared. He was almost certain that hadn’t been in there when he’d entered. It definitely stuck out in this otherwise relatively lively and colorful apartment.

The box was a dark gray, reinforced with two rows of bolts that ran vertically. It had two latches, each sealed with a golden padlock. He moved closer and tentatively touched it. The metal was slick and smooth to the touch. Whatever, he thought. The police will figure out-

Suddenly, he recoiled, pulling his hand from the box. “I touched it.” He muttered, horrified. “Now my fingerprints will be on it! They’ll trace it back to me!”

In the distance, sirens echoed.

Harvey panicked. He grabbed the box and ran back into his apartment, slamming Angela’s and his doors on the way.

He stared at the box as he set it down. “I…stole evidence from a crime scene. Oh god, I could be arrested as an accessory.”

Harvey thought it over. He couldn’t return it; he wouldn’t have enough time to clean his fingerprints off. But he couldn’t just do nothing. He knew this box was somehow involved in Angela’s disappearance. So he only had one choice: he’d have to do what he’d just thought himself too scared to, and solve the case himself.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Detective Cass Achebe surveyed the apartment hallway, filled with cops. All of them were clustered around the victim’s door, clearly unsure of what to do. One gangly, younger officer turned when he heard her and gasped. “D-d-detective Achebe! What are you doing here?”

Cass was the best detective in the police force. She specialized in disappearance cases, and usually was only assigned to the ones that stumped everyone else. It was uncommon for her to be at the scene of the crime within hours.

“I made a special request to Chief Simmons to get on this one a little early.” She explained. “Miss Angela West here was a witness in another unsolved disappearance case- a friend of hers, I believe. I felt there might be a connection.”

An older man Cass recognized as Officer Wrigley approached her. “So, you really think we got some kinda serial kidnapper or something?”

“Can’t rule it out. So, any witnesses of any kind?”

“Not exactly. We did contact her partner, and he said she’d been acting strange over the past couple of weeks. He’s out of town, though.”

“Keep in touch so we can question him when he gets back. Was he the one who called?”

“Nah. The guy next door was the caller- said he hadn’t seen her in a week, and got worried. Some guys talked to him a bit earlier, but you can if you like.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harvey didn’t know why he kept checking under his bed. The box wasn’t going to run out and announce, “Hey, everybody, Harvey stole me from the crime scene!” And yet he wanted to be sure it was there still, hidden.

He heard footsteps, and quickly clambered back onto his bed, trying not to look suspicious. A tall, dark-skinned woman with short frizzy hair knocked on the doorway. “Hello, sir. I’m Detective Achebe. I’d like to ask you a few questions. First off, I didn’t catch your name from the other officers…”

“Oh, yeah. Uh, I’m Harvey, Harvey White. Nice to meet you.” He weakly held out his hand.

She shook it firmly. “Now, according to Officer Wrigley, you called 911 because you hadn’t seen Miss West in a week. At what times of day did you typically see her?”

Harvey tried to keep his cool. “Well, I only saw her sometimes. Usually I heard her leaving the apartment in the morning and returning in the evening. The doors here are creaky, and the walls are thin.”

It was a strange sensation- Harvey wasn’t lying about anything, but it felt like he was. Guess withholding any information at all in a kidnapping case did that to you.

“I see. Now, did you notice any odd behavior from Miss West leading up to her disappearance, anything at all?”

“I heard her and her boyfriend arguing a lot. I think they broke up. Other than that, nothing.”

Detective Achebe looked off thoughtfully. “Ok, then. We’ll keep in touch, but no further questions for now. Could I just have your number?”

Harvey scribbled it down on a scrap of paper and handed it to her.

She nodded. “Thank you for your time, sir.”

The detective turned to leave. As she passed through the doorway, Harvey thought he heard a voice, whispering.

“She suspects you. She thinks you did it.”

Harvey yelped. Detective Achebe turned back. “You ok?”

Harvey glanced around the room. He was alone.

“Uh, yeah. Just fine.”

She left.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There! Harvey thought he heard it again, just barely.

It was hours later. He had gone to bed, and most of the police had left for the night. And yet he couldn’t sleep. Whenever he got close to it, that voice he’d heard earlier muttered in his ear, prodding him with snippets of “Keep me hidden.” and “Trust no one.”

He wanted to write it off as a guilty conscience- not normally the most appealing idea, but infinitely better than what he feared. The box, the one right below him, was speaking to him.

Almost as soon as he processed that thought, the voice became clearer. “You need to save Angela, Harvey.”

Harvey didn’t move a muscle, continuing to stare up at the ceiling. Still, he responded hesitantly. “No- no, I don’t. The police will find her.”

“They’re on the wrong track. Only you can save Angela.”

“How? Any evidence I could use is in her apartment, and I can’t break back in.” Harvey paused. “Unless…you’re the evidence?”

“In a sense. You just need to keep me safe, for just a short while. Then, everything will be revealed to you.”

Everything revealed. As much as this situation had terrified Harvey, the idea was appealing to him. His whole life had been spent in mediocrity, waiting for some kind of meaning. He’d be a hero, and he liked that.

However, one more thing bothered him. “You…you weren’t left here by the killer, right? I mean, it’s fine if you were, but you’re not some kind of trick to mislead me, right?” Harvey suddenly felt a little silly about asking a box whether it was manipulating him.

The voice was silent for a few moments, but it eventually answered. “I work for no one. I only wish to see this case closed, and you to play a part in that.”

“Ok.” Harvey said, uncertainty still clinging to his voice. Eventually, he was able to drift off to a restless sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harvey clumsily spooned cereal into his mouth with one hand as he buttoned his shirt with the other. “Ugh…come on, come on, I’m going to be late!”

The excitement of last night and his voice-induced insomnia had left him tired enough to sleep through his alarm. His shift began in only thirty minutes, so he had to move quickly.

“You really should stay, you know.”

Harvey glared towards his bedroom. “In case you forgot, I have a job. It’ll be fine. The doors and windows will be locked.”

“Angela’s were too. There are people who will go to any length to stop you. Just take a few days off work.”

Harvey sighed. The box was making sense. He could easily picture a sinister figure, clad in black, smashing their way through his window, or picking his door’s lock. Wandering around his apartment, taking the box, maybe waiting for him to return to clean up all the evidence…

He shook his head. “Paranoia won’t get us anywhere. Anyway, you can get rid of those stakes if you just tell me what I need to know.”

“That will happen in its own time, Harvey.”

Harvey finished getting ready and left without another word.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry- no, wait, Harvey- rushed past Cass. Poor guy looked to be late for something. Oh, well. Cass had no time to worry about that, she was on the clock. She entered Angela’s apartment, to see Officer Wrigley and some other cops were already there.

“Detective Achebe, ma’am.” Wrigley nodded. “Ready for a closer examination?”

“Of course.”

For the next hour they searched the apartment, checking for fingerprints on every surface, looking for any sign of a struggle, but were unable to find anything. Wrigley scratched his head. “Ever seen a case with so little to go off of?”

“Admittedly, no.” Cass steeled herself. “But no criminal is perfect. They all make mistakes. We’ll find one.”

She pointed to the window. “I know some people already checked there, but maybe we should look again. It’s clearly the point of the break in.”

“Hey, go nuts. At this point we should try anything.”

Cass checked for fingerprints around the sill, but was unable to find anything. She noticed reddish stains on the glass. “Did you see this?”

Wrigley looked and nodded. “Blood, belonging to the victim. Pretty much confirms she was kidnapped, but nothing we didn’t suspect.”

Cass looked down, disappointed. Then, she noticed something.

“There’s no glass on the floor.” She pointed out. “Were the shards cleaned up?”

“They were, but there wasn’t very much. Like only a little glass had fallen inside or something.”

“Hmm.” Cass looked out the window, but saw nothing in the alley below but a blanket of snow.

But maybe under the snow…

“Officer, can you follow me?”

The pair rode the elevator down and made their way to the alley, the cold biting into them as they walked. Cass tracked the broken window’s column downward, and determined the spot right below it. She kneeled down, and began digging through the snow.

“Come on, Officer. Help me with this.”

“I didn’t bring gloves! You’ve got mittens…maybe I could just keep watch?” He suggested sheepishly.

Cass rolled her eyes as she continued her excavation. Finally, she felt something else within the snow: shards of glass.

She carefully pulled one out. It was covered in frost, and was stained in blood like the window above.

“You know what this means, right?” Cass asked, as she studied the shard closely.

Officer Wrigley thought for a moment. “If the glass fell out here, it must have been broken from the inside. But that still doesn’t explain why Angela’s blood is on the shards.”

“I have some theories.” Cass stood. “But I’m not collecting all this evidence alone. Find some cops who came prepared, Mr Naked Hands.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

BANG!

Harvey flinched. He knew it was just a bowling ball knocking down pins, but it was all too easy to imagine a masked gunman trying to take him out for knowing too much.

It had been a few days since Harvey had discovered the box, and his paranoia had only grown. He still resisted the box’s calls for him to keep a constant watch, but it was getting harder to drag himself to Lucky Rabbit Bowling Alley for his shift. Every person who walked up to rent bowling shoes forced him to ask the question: Could this be the kidnapper? Is Angela locked up in their basement, struggling against restraints, or buried in their backyard?

Clearly, his coworker friends had started to take notice. “Dude.” Paul said as they sprayed some used shoes down. “You ok? You’ve been kinda…out of it lately.”

“I’m fine.” Harvey muttered, not meeting his gaze. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

Stella, his other coworker, frowned. “You’re always a little tired. This is different. Come on, Harvey, you can tell us.”

Harvey looked away from her too- but not because of his worries. He didn’t want her to see him blushing.

Harvey had had feelings for Stella as long as he’d known her. She was beautiful, smart, funny…but no way she felt the same way about him.

Either way, Harvey was growing tired of secrets, so he decided to let a little slip. “Actually…my neighbor disappeared. Last I heard, the police suspect foul play.”

Stella gasped. “Oh my god, that’s horrible.”

“Yeah.” Harvey stared down the shoes lined up on the counter. “I’m next door. I should have heard something happen, or seen someone suspicious…”

“Don’t say that.” Paul said sympathetically. “Look, what happened happened. The cops are on it now, it’s their responsibility. At this point, what more can you do?”

An answer weaseled its way into Harvey’s mind. You could protect me. Make sure the one thing that could save Angela is safe until the time is right. But no, renting out shoes in a bowling alley is far more important.

The words rang true. Harvey had been neglecting his duties. Fate had put the box into his hands, he was its steward. His meaningless job could not be allowed to distract him any longer.

Harvey walked out of the counter area. His coworkers quickly took notice. “Hey, Harvey.” Stella called out. “Where are you going, lunch break isn’t for another half an hour.”

He only looked back once as he left the building. “There’s something I need to attend to. Be back soon.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harvey was getting tired of pizza. But what choice did he really have? In the time it would take him to cook a decent meal or go out to dinner, the kidnapper could easily slip into his room and snatch the box. It felt like he was pushing his luck just going to his door to pick up his order.

Most of the past week had been spent in his bedroom, keeping a close watch on the box. He read books, watched TV, and, as he was doing right now, ate pizza. Still, he remained alert.

As he had a few times before, he interrogated the box. “This is getting tiresome. I’m running out of vacation days. Just tell me what I need to know to save Angela.”

“You’d have more days if you hadn’t gone to visit your family last June. And what does keeping a job matter if a life is at stake? I promise, it won’t be much longer.”

Harvey was irritated, but couldn’t disagree. He finished off the slice he’d been munching on and tossed the empty pizza box onto the growing stack in the corner.

“Think I’m gonna try to get to bed early tonight.” Harvey could already sense the box’s response. “Yes, I’ll check the alarms on the windows.”

Harvey scanned over them quickly. They all seemed to be in working order…

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Harvey froze. The only people who had come to his door recently were the pizza delivery guys, and he hadn’t ordered anything else…so who could it be?

Harvey slowly approached the door. He made sure to grab the metal baseball bat he’d leaned against the wall, just in case…

In one swift movement, Harvey opened the door, just wide enough that he could easily whack any kidnappers. To his surprise, the person behind the door wasn’t a masked stranger- or even a stranger at all. It was Stella.

Harvey gasped. “Stella! Wha- what are you doing here? How’d you even know I live here?!” He quickly set the bat out of sight. Stella hadn’t seen it, but she could clearly see the tiredness and paranoia on his face.

She played with the zipper on her coat. “Paul told me. He would have come himself, but he had a rough day. He’s taking on a lot of your duties, y’know.”

Harvey opened the door wide enough to let her in as he sighed. “I…I know. I’m sorry I had to leave on such short notice, but it’s urgent.”

Stella marched in and hung her coat on the rack. “What’s urgent? Harvey, are you getting mixed up in that missing person’s case you were talking about?”

Harvey hesitated. He didn’t want to involve Stella in what was going on, but at this point he just wanted someone else to know. Someone who understood his responsibility.

“Look, Stella. Please, just follow me. There’s something I want to show you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stella reached out to caress the lid.

“Don’t.” Harvey gently grabbed her hand. “If the police find out I took this, I don’t want your fingerprints on it.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s what got you into this mess, isn’t it?” Stella collapsed on the bed, her face in her hands. “I still can’t believe you broke into someone’s apartment.”

“Just to confirm my suspicions. Anyway, I don’t think of this situation as a mess. It’s an opportunity to do something good.”

“I guess.” Stella admitted. “But what’s happened to you recently? You’ve never been a paranoid person. And why not just open the box? If you think this is key evidence, then go all the way.”

“Look…it’s all for a reason. Trust me.” Harvey had elected to leave out the part about the box talking to him.

“Ok, ok. I trust you, really.” Stella said, sitting back up. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s cool you want to help out.”

“Thanks.” Harvey replied. “And…thank you for visiting me, and listening to me. It’s nice, not being completely alone in this.”

Harvey had never understood why, but he’d never been able to read Stella like he could other people. Perhaps she just kept her feelings close to her chest. But right then, for just a moment, he saw her blush slightly.

Stella responded, hesitantly. “Like I said, these last few days have kind of sucked. That’s partially because you’re not there to work, but it’s also because you weren't there to talk to. I…I like being with you, Harvey.”

“Oh.” Harvey was frozen for a moment. “I like being with you too. You and Paul make my job pretty fun…but you especially.”

He took a deep breath before speaking. “I’ve been thinking about stuff, too. Just being wrapped in something like this…something dangerous…if something happens to me, I don’t want to regret something. Stella…I love you.”

There was a second’s silence that seemed to last a century. Eventually, Stella responded.

“Wow…Harvey…I never knew.”

“It’s fine if you don’t feel the same!” Harvey blurted. “I just wanted to get that off my chest.”

“No, no! I do feel the same! It’s just I only realized I did when you were gone.”

Harvey was stunned. He’d never seen this coming, never seen a world where someone could love him. Once again, the status quo was shattered- but he liked it this time.

The couple spent the rest of the evening adjusting to each other, to the new normal. Eventually they grew comfortable with each other, closer than they’d ever been.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cass trudged into the station, finishing her coffee. It had been a long night, trying to fit barely existent pieces into an enormous puzzle. It didn’t help that she had to come in so early, but this had already been put off enough. Angela’s boyfriend was finally back in town, and he was the only lead left they hadn’t explored.

Officer Wrigley was there waiting for her. “Morning, Detective. Mr Holland is in there waiting for you.”

Cass opened the door to the interrogation room to see a nervous man with a week’s worth of stubble staring down at the table. He looked up when he saw her enter.

“Mrs Achebe, ma’am, hi. I’m Joe Holland, Angela’s boyfriend. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner, I was dealing with some family stuff.”

“It’s ok. And please, just call me Cass.” She pulled out a greasy paper bag as she sat down. “Accidentally bought an extra donut, you want it?”

Joe sighed. “No need to play good cop, I’ll tell you everything.”

“Alright.” Cass grabbed her notepad. “What do you know?”

“So I heard you already know Angela had a friend who went missing.”

“Right. Patricia Adams.”

“Yeah. But, from what Angela told me, Patricia had a brother who went missing shortly before she did.”

This was news to Cass. Had this chain of kidnappings gone further back than she’d suspected?

Joe continued. “According to Angela, Patricia started acting very strange and paranoid, even claiming that she could solve the mystery. Thing is, after she went missing, Angela started to act the same way.”

“What?” Cass raised an eyebrow. “Why would she do that?”

“After a few days of her being like that, she showed me this…box. It’s just this weird metal crate. She said Patricia had shown it to her, claiming it had something to do with her brother’s disappearance. When she went over to Patricia’s house and found her missing, the box was still there. She took it and said she understood Patricia now. This box was the key to solving everything.”

Cass raised an eyebrow. “The crime scene has been searched thoroughly. No box like you described was discovered.”

Joe froze. “No…that’s impossible. It has to be there. Unless…she was right? The box really is important, and the kidnapper took it?”

“It’s…possible.” Cass mused. “But you described the box as rather large, right? Could someone really carry both Angela and the box?”

“Unlikely.” Joe admitted. “But nothing else makes sense. How could it just disappear?”

Cass chewed on her pen. For the first time, in all her cases, she was stumped. What could she do?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harvey awoke. He smiled before he even opened his eyes, reflecting on last night’s events. Was Stella his girlfriend, officially? He wasn’t exactly sure how these things worked.

She wasn’t next to him in the bed, but he heard movement down the hall. Probably just grabbing something to eat.

He was suddenly reminded he should check under the bed, for the box. As opposed to the times before, he did so calmly, without fear of the box’s absence.

But its absence he discovered.

Harvey stumbled backwards, in total shock. He knew he’d slid the box back under last night, he was certain!

He ran out, running into the living room. Stella sat there upon the couch, sipping a mug of coffee.

She saw the panic in his eyes before he spoke a word. “Harvey, what’s wrong?”

“The…the box! It’s gone!”

“What?!” Stella stood up. “But…how? We slept right over it all night! You have alarms on every window.”

“It just seems impossible! No one could break in…”

Suddenly, a thought struck Harvey. It felt wrong even to think it, but the more he did, the more it seemed true.

“Stella.” Harvey said cautiously. “Did you do something with it?”

“What?” Stella was taken aback. “No, of course not.”

Harvey took a few steps, closer to the front door. “You knew where it was. I showed you. Then, the next day…it’s gone. You don’t think that’s a little strange?”

“Are you accusing me of…what, working with a kidnapper? Being a kidnapper? Harvey, we’ve known each other for years.”

“Maybe they’re paying you because you’re close to me.” Harvey gasped. “Yes, that’s it!”

He smacked his forehead. “How stupid could I be? Of course you don’t love me, it was all an act!”

The words hurt to say, but he knew they were true. Harvey had let the wrong person in, and it had cost him everything.

Tears began to form in Stella’s eyes. “How could you say that? Nothing last night was fake. Harvey, this is turning into an obsession. It’s causing you to do things you wouldn’t do otherwise!”

Harvey steeled himself as he took one last step towards the door. “You’re right, Stella. I’m usually too weak to do what needs to be done. But not this time.” Then, he grabbed the bat he’d tossed aside near the entrance, and gripped it tightly. “Tell. Me. Where. It. Is. Now.”

Stella was silent. Then, she ran for the door.

Harvey could take her out. He knew it. He prepared for one good swing…

But couldn’t force his arms into motion. They remained frozen with cowardice.

She dashed out of his apartment, and slammed the door behind her. She didn’t break her sprint until she clambered into the elevator.

Harvey fell to his knees. A part of him felt horrified about what he’d almost done, and what he’d said. However, a far greater part mourned his foolishness. His naivety had lost him his one chance to solve the mystery. He’d failed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hours passed, Harvey still distraught in front of the door. He didn’t know what to do now. It was as if his whole life had been building up to this week, this one period of true purpose, and he’d fumbled the ball.

However, just before his despair fully consumed him, he heard a voice.

Hello, Harvey.

Harvey gasped. “Y-you! You can still talk to me!”

Of course. Our fates are intertwined.

Guilt overcame him. “Stella…Stella took you, didn’t she?”

Yes. I don’t wish to say I told you so, but…

“I swear!” Harvey stood. “I’ll never doubt you again!”

Good. Because it’s time, Harvey. Time for the truth.

He froze. “Wait, really? Then what are you waiting for, tell me!”

I cannot tell you in a way you’d understand. I have to show you. Which means, you have to find me.

“But I don’t know what Stella did with you.”

In that, I can guide your path. But, you must leave now.

“Right.” Harvey grabbed his jacket off the rack, stepped into his winter boots, and took a step towards the door.

Don’t! The voice screamed. Don’t you hear them coming?

Confused, Harvey stopped to listen. He swore he heard something from the echoey stairwell, climbing up to his floor…and the elevator rising…

Harvey understood. “They’re already here. I can’t go out this way.”

He swiveled his head, looking for an answer. He spotted it- the window.

Escape by any means necessary! Break it!

Harvey dashed over and deactivated the alarm. He looked for something heavy to smash the glass with, but nothing was within reach. He knew he only had precious seconds, and acted drastically.

Harvey began punching the glass, cracks spreading over the frosted pane. Tiny pieces began to embed in his knuckles, causing them to bleed. He even saw larger shards of glass, stained in blood, falling into the snow below, but he didn’t care. Escaping, and solving the mystery, was all that mattered.

Finally, with a SMASH!, the window gave way. As carefully as possible, he slipped out onto the narrow ledge. He braced himself against the building, steadying his bloody raw hands against the brick wall. Slowly he inched, closer and closer to the fire escape- ironic, he thought, that he would evade the kidnapper using the very structure they’d use to reach Angela’s apartment.

Eventually he gripped the railing, the cold metal soothing his injuries. As he climbed down, images beamed into his head- directions, to the box’s location and the mystery’s solution.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His journey lasted longer than he’d expected- half a day of walking. Maybe it would have been faster if he’d taken a bus, but the voice had advised him that one of the kidnapper’s accomplices might see him (It felt so odd, knowing so many people were against you). The walk wasn’t pleasant, seeing as he only had a pair of pajamas under his jacket. But the biting wind wasn’t enough to keep him from his goal.

When he reached the snow-covered forest, he knew he was close. When he found an old road winding through, he knew he was closer. And when he saw the dilapidated old house, he knew he had made it.

It was incredibly rundown. Parts of the roof had collapsed, leaving gaping holes that were visible from the ground. The windows were all boarded up, though the boards had begun to soften and rot. Most importantly, the door was wide open, barely hanging on to its hinges.

After one last look over his shoulder, Harvey walked inside. Indoors wasn’t much nicer- snow had piled up in every room, and he could even see what looked like the remnants of small plants that had sprouted from exposed dirt when the weather was nicer. The carpet even had stains that looked like oil and a rusty red substance. Harvey didn’t want to linger on what it was, and he didn’t have to. He could hear the voice calling for him to ascend the nearby staircase, up to the attic. His final destination.

Just down the hall from the top of the stairs he saw a ladder, which led up through a trapdoor. Rung by rung he climbed, until he set foot on the creaking wood floor. He’d made it.

The first thing Harvey noticed was the smell. It was awful- like something had died here. But he could barely notice that, because on the ground, just a few feet away, laid his box.

He couldn’t contain his joy. “I made it!” Harvey ran towards the box, lovingly caressing its metal surface. “Thank you, for guiding me.” He weeped gratefully.

And thank you for following. Now, it’s time for the truth.

There was a small click, and the box’s lid suddenly flew open. For the first time, Harvey looked inside- and saw only darkness.

“I can’t see anything.” Harvey admitted.

Of course not. One final step, Harvey. Climb inside, brave the dark, and I will show you everything.

One week ago, Harvey would have been startled at that request. What purpose could that possibly serve, to solve the mystery? However, he now knew not to doubt the voice. With little hesitation, he climbed into the box. It was roomier than it looked, though barely big enough for him. He curled up into a fetal position, unsure of what else to do.

Suddenly the lid slammed shut, and Harvey was trapped in darkness. He heard two small clicks from outside- the padlocks closing. He tried to move around, but the box was sealed tight. He knew at that moment there was no escape.

But he wasn’t afraid. This felt…right. This was where he was supposed to be.

Time flowed by at an imperceptible rate. Harvey was uncertain of how long he’d been inside. What he did know was that it was getting harder to breathe, his limited supply of air getting thinner. He began to feel light-headed, and could barely keep his eyes open.

At that moment the voice spoke one last time. It gave him an answer.

Once upon a time there was a man who had many things. A place to call home, a job he liked just fine, and people he could call friends. But it wasn’t enough for him. He desired meaning, something above what the world would give him. One day, he stumbled upon something special, unique. A spark, in an empty world. A legacy waiting to happen.

Others tried to hold him back, drag him back into mediocrity. They claimed he was losing himself, all to chase an unattainable goal. But the man refused to give in. Even as they callously left him, the man kept pursuing his spark. Eventually, his pursuit led him to a dark place, a place he couldn’t leave. He never fully understood his spark, but he walked its path. So even as the rot crept in, he endured, content with what he found at the end.

I am the pursuit. The ruined legacy the man left in his wake. We all are. And now, you are too.

Harvey smiled. That was the last thing he did before he blacked out.

The box remained in the attic, though in a slightly different place. It retreated into the shadows, out of sight of anyone who entered. It set itself at the base of a pile of identical boxes. Each was filled to the brim with a rotting corpse, though the oldest were nothing more than bones. And each and every one wore a smile on their face, satisfied to have fulfilled their purpose.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stella knew this wasn’t right. Harvey wasn’t quite…stable, right now. But she was growing worried. He wasn’t answering her texts, and she wanted to check on him. So she’d come back to his apartment.

She knocked on his door, but there was no answer. Hesitantly, she tested the doorknob, to find it unlocked.

The moment she entered, she knew something was wrong. It was freezing, and she realized his window had been smashed open.

“Oh, God.” she muttered. “Was…he right? Someone was out to get him?”

Stella stumbled back, the weight of her discovery fully hitting her. She looked around the apartment, trying to find something, anything that would help her make sense of this new, terrifying reality-

And her eyes settled on a large, metal box, sitting on the coffee table.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #anthology #fazbear frights #horror #mystery #fnaf 4 box

2 notes · View notes

bekoobove · 8 months

Text

Fazbear Fears #21: A Deal Is A Deal

Kenny decides to stand up for what’s right, and prevent potential tragedy, unaware he’s confronting someone who doesn’t take well to broken agreements…

Digging through scrap, looking for a miracle. How had Kenny’s life come to this?

The last few years had been spent going from job to job, which there was ultimately little variety of in Breaker’s Ridge. Fast food joints, gas stations, dollar stores- pretty much every unimaginably unfulfilling place that teens worked at in town, a grown up Kenny had held a position.

What was his dream job? Probably not one most forty year old men would fantasize about- running a Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.

Fazbear Entertainment had closed down most of its locations about five years after Kenny had been born, and he’d never been to one. But that didn't matter. It was the dawn of the internet, and a young Kenny could easily find pictures and videos of the animatronic performers. That was what had really intrigued him- not the pizza, arcades, or anything else. No, these four characters- Freddy, Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy- had enthralled his robot-loving mind. Back then that meant robots from movies, but as he grew older he became more interested in robotics itself. He joined every club, took every class, and designed basic but impressive robots on his own time. It was his passion, and Freddy’s had started it.

When the news broke that Fazbear Entertainment was undergoing a revival, and they would be opening dozens of new franchise restaurants around the country, Kenny was ecstatic. If he became a franchisee, then he would be given the chance to work with some of the most advanced animatronic models in the world! And hey, owning your own business is pretty good when you have a wife, a teenage daughter, and a young son.

Alas, it wasn’t that simple. Fazbear Entertainment quickly responded to his message, declining his request. Their reasons were simple- Breaker’s Ridge was in the middle of nowhere. Why open a restaurant there when other towns had higher populations and tourism rates?

Kenny didn’t give up, though. He sent application after application, each with some kind of proof that this franchise could succeed. He argued the town’s population was growing, that it wasn’t nearly as isolated as the company acted like it was, that even within the town alone there was a demand for more child-friendly entertainment.

Eventually, though, it was clear. While the company was aware a location in Breaker’s Ridge would survive, they wanted their franchises to thrive. And Kenny finally accepted there was no way he could open a Freddy’s.

But then, another idea struck him. Why not open his own original animatronic restaurant? It’s not as though this was unheard of- a similar venue called the Pizza Playground had opened a few counties over, and had proven successful enough to open a second location- so why couldn’t he do it? Heck, it’d be even better because it would truly be his own business, instead of one of many locations owned by a multimillion dollar entertainment mogul.

The one problem was the animatronics. Kenny was simply not capable of building robots from scratch. He could maintain them, and improve them, but he at least needed some kind of base to work off of.

It was common knowledge that Fazbear’s many closings had left dozens of animatronics orphaned. Some had been sent to other locations, but many had just been tossed in junkyards. And here Kenny was, in the company’s birthplace of Hurricane, Utah. He’d sifted through the town junkyard’s piles of rusted metal for hours, to no avail.

The sun beat down on him, and Kenny wiped sweat from his brow. “Ugh, what was I even thinking driving out here?” he groaned. “Even if there’s something left of the old robots, it’s not gonna be enough.”

His search had taken him on top of a large pile of metal, at least ten feet tall. Carefully, he tried to step down from it- and tripped. He slid down the structure, being scraped by the sharp metal and parts. Pieces of the pile were jostled loose, and tumbled down with him.

“Crap…” Kenny muttered, dusting himself off. “I’m gonna need a tetanus shot or something…”

He turned, then paused. There was something odd behind the parts that had come loose- a surprisingly clean, smooth piece of white plastic.

Carefully, Kenny pushed more parts away. Now he could see that part was actually a jaw of some kind, lined with small sharp teeth.

“An animatronic!” Kenny cheered. “Or, at least, part of one…”

He got to work clearing away the scrap with his shovel, praying there was something in here he could use. As he did, he began to notice more plastic body parts, in different colors. A top hat on a brown head, a light blue bunny ear, a yellow arm, a large brown shoe… His excitement grew more and more the more he uncovered, and he began to realize he hadn’t just stumbled upon a smorgasbord of discarded parts- this was a group of five, fully formed animatronics.

The original members of the band- Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy- were all represented, as well as a fifth that resembled a chubby child in a striped shirt. They didn’t look like any he’d seen though. All of their designs brought dolls to mind, with red circles of blush, big colorful eyes, and wiry eyelashes, not to mention their plastic material. The biggest divergence was Foxy, in two ways- the robot was colored white and pink, contrasting the classic’s red color, but it also differed from its buried brethren in that it was badly damaged, a mess of parts haphazardly stuck together and missing its shell.

Still, none of this strangeness bothered Kenny. In fact, he was ecstatic- these robots were almost completely intact. As he hauled them out of the yard, he came upon an intriguing possibility- he shouldn’t even need to change them. Why not brand his place as if it was a real Freddy’s? He had the characters, and he’d enjoy giving the middle finger to the greedy megacorporation by using their name.

“Freddy’s Pizza Parlor.” He pondered, loading the last robot in his truck. “Yeah, that has a nice ring to it.”

Kenny climbed into his car, and prepared for the drive home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dreams are funny things.

They are picturesque, beautiful, and untarnished. People may be capable of recognizing likely setbacks and negatives, but usually ignore them. The dream must be preserved as a panacea for satisfaction in life.

That being said, sometimes when working towards a dream obstacles will emerge beyond anything anyone could have suspected. A natural disaster tearing down a business, cultural trends evaporating overnight- or killer animatronics.

Kenny sat up in his hospital bed as the nurse spoke. “Alright, Mr McIntyre, you’ve made a full recovery. Your stitches are looking good, and there’s been no severe head trauma. You can go home once some paperwork is complete.”

Kenny nodded. “Thanks. Could you just…give me a minute? I need to think.”

The nurse left his room. Kenny contemplated the events of the last year. How could his dream become a nightmare so quickly? His Pizza Parlor wasn’t known as a place of joy- it was known for ripped-out hearts, chest-bursting cupcake creatures, and now amalgamations of corpses.

He knew that last very well. After the Mangle had hid backstage, its creation had attacked him, biting into his skull. If he hadn’t called the police to report the break-in, it would have finished the job.

Kenny had no idea what had happened to the flesh Mangle- the robot had been located, but the creature had escaped with no trace. For the sake of the teen couple who made up its meaty mass, Kenny hoped it would be found and destroyed soon.

Mangle had been forced into the backroom, along with Chica and Balloon Boy, where they remained a week later. Freddy and Bonnie, meanwhile, had been smashed to pieces by those intruding teenagers. The nightmare was over, and what did Kenny have to show for it? A horrible reputation and the blood of eight people on his hands.

He should have known the penny-pinching Fazbear Entertainment wouldn’t abandon animatronics for no reason. Even apart from that, there was the strange behavior he couldn’t explain, couldn’t fix, and ultimately couldn’t bring himself to delay the restaurant’s opening for.

Suddenly, his cell phone buzzed. Kenny picked it up, expecting a call from his wife. However, the Caller ID read Miss Anderson: Fazbear Entertainment Representative.

Kenny cursed. Right! Miss Anderson had been sent by the company to pick up the animatronics when he signed up for the Rejuvenation Initiative. Their planned meeting had been a day ago, but he’d been a little preoccupied recovering from a robot bite.

Quickly he answered. “Miss Anderson, hi. I’m sorry about missing our meeting.”

“It’s fine, Mr McIntyre.” She responded. “I’m well aware of your injury and hospital stay.”

“Oh…yeah.” Kenny said sheepishly. “Then you’ve probably heard about how the situation’s changed. Of the three animatronics you came for, two have been smashed to pieces and one has shown hostile behavior. Very hostile behavior.”

“I’ve heard that as well. We’re still interested in purchasing the destroyed Freddy and Bonnie- their parts will still be useful.”

“Glad to hear it.” Kenny nodded to himself, assuming that would be the end of it.

“However, the company also would like the Foxy, Chica, and Balloon Boy as well.”

Kenny gasped. “What?! But, Miss Anderson, there’s something wrong with them. They- they’ve killed people!”

“As with the destroyed models, the intact ones will be broken down and used for parts. Their mental processors will be scrapped.”

“It's not just that they’re malfunctioning!” Kenny yelled desperately. “I know that sounds crazy, but I’ve seen what they're capable of.”

There was a pause. “If you truly feel that way, Mr McIntyre, that’s your call. I should say the damaged models are not worth as much as the intact ones, so this would hardly be the most profitable decision. Regardless, the company needs you at the restaurant tomorrow to sign some paperwork, so you must decide by then.”

The call ended abruptly.

Kenny put his head in his hands. Every part of him wanted to turn down the offer, but at this point he had nothing. His business was deader than dead, and his reputation was tanked. The only path forward he had seen for him and his family was starting fresh with the money from this deal. It didn’t help that he was getting an increasingly nagging feeling that Bonnie and Freddy were no safer, that they had merely not been given the chance to show their true colors.

Perhaps Miss Anderson was right, and Kenny was exaggerating the danger. But he doubted it.

“What am I supposed to do?” He muttered.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Daddy!”

“Dad!”

“Ken!”

Kenny’s family crowded around him as he walked through the door. He smiled; as much pressure as there was on him, it was nice to be back home.

His young son Finn and teen daughter Evelyn both hugged him tightly, and his wife Sadie pecked him on the cheek. “Glad you’re feeling better, honey.” the latter said affectionately.

“Yep, pretty much all good now.” Kenny said. “And I have even better news. The company is willing to purchase all the animatronics!”

On his way home, he’d decided to take the deal. Whatever happened with them in the future would be the company’s problem.

Kenny expected his family to be excited, or somewhat confused (he certainly was). Instead, they all grew silent, and backed away from him.

“Dad…you mean even the ones that did those…things?” Evelyn asked.

“The boy one? The chicken? The fox that bit you?” Finn stammered, sounding scared.

“Ken, honey, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Sadie reasoned. “Fazbear Entertainment doesn’t care enough to make sure the animatronics don’t hurt more people.”

These were all things Kenny was bothered by even now, but hearing them spoken aloud by others made him defensive. “Look, everyone. It’s fine. Now can we all just relax?”

His tone rang more harsh then he meant it to, and his family flinched. They nodded, clearly not convinced that everything was in fact fine.

“Ok. I’m still kind of tired, so I’m heading up to my room.” Kenny said, attempting to end the conversation. He walked up the stairs without another word.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kenny laid, alone on his bed, watching the evening news. He immersed himself in the reports of disasters and violence, ignoring the suspicion his robots would cause just that in the company’s hands.

There was a small knock at his door. “Come in.” Kenny answered.

Finn sheepishly walked inside.

“Hey, kiddo. How are you doing?”

“Not…great.” he whispered. “Daddy, I don’t want you to sell the robots. I want them to be gone.”

Kenny paused the show and sighed. “Look, Finn, I get it. You’ve been scared of the animatronics ever since I first got them. But-”

“Not quite.”

Kenny frowned. “What do you mean? I asked you if you wanted to see them once they’d been cleaned up and you said no.”

Finn sighed. “Daddy, I know you said we couldn’t go in your workshop alone, but I really wanted to see them, and I couldn’t wait for you to give me permission. One day, you left the door open, and I snuck inside.”

“What?!” Kenny exclaimed. “Finn, that place is dangerous. Tools, machinery…”

“The boy robot scratched me.”

There was silence.

“When I got close its hands grew claws. It laughed, and attacked me. I got away, but I had a big cut.”

“Wait,” Kenny stammered. “That day we needed to take you to the ER for stitches?! You said you scratched yourself on a sharp tree branch!” All of this was hitting Kenny like a truck. Perhaps it represented some selfishness on his part, considering all who had suffered at the hands of the robots, but knowing even his own family hadn’t been spared was a shock to the system.

“I didn’t think you’d believe me if I told you the truth.”

“I guess not.” Kenny admitted. “But why not tell me after what happened…to Tim? I would believe you then.”

“I was going to. But then I started to think you wouldn’t care.”

Kenny was taken aback. He walked over to Finn, kneeled down, and looked him in the eyes.

“What gave you that idea, kiddo?”

“It seems you cared more about the robots than the people they hurt. It took that horrible birthday for you to shut down Freddy’s, and even after one hurt you you’re ok with them being sold.”

“Finn, this deal is for our family.”

“None of us want it.”

Finn averted his eyes, clearly expecting some kind of reprimand. But his words had rung true. Tears began welling up in Kenny’s eyes, and he spoke.

“I’m so sorry, Finn. I never meant to make you feel like I cared more about my dreams or money than what this family wanted.”

He hugged his son tightly and continued. “Tomorrow, I’ll meet up with the Fazbear Entertainment representative. And I’ll tell her the deal is off.”

Finn sighed, clearly relieved. “And the robots?”

“First chance I get I’ll smash them all to pieces and dump them in a ditch. And don’t worry, bud. I’ll figure out something for this family.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Arcade! Duh!” Kenny groaned. He’d slap his forehead if he wasn’t driving. “I still have all the cabinets, I can just start an arcade a few cities over!”

He was somewhat embarrassed it took him this long to think of this incredibly simple solution, but oh well. He’d start work on that later. For now, it was time to break off a deal.

Kenny pulled the car into his building’s lot and stepped out, enjoying the morning sun as it hit his face.

There were two other vehicles in the lot- a large box truck emblazoned with a cheery Fazbear Entertainment logo, and a cherry-red sports car. A blonde woman in a suit leaned against it, checking her phone, which she put away upon noticing Kenny.

“Mr McIntyre! We’ve never met in person before, I’m Miss Anderson.”

“Pleasure.” Kenny said, shaking her hand.

“So, I have the paperwork in the car, you just need to…”

“Actually, I have some bad news.” Kenny felt somewhat guilty- he was sure some higher-up would be yelling at her soon enough. “While I appreciate the offers you’ve made, I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel comfortable selling these robots. You haven’t witnessed what they’re truly capable of, so I don’t expect you to understand, but the deal is off.”

Miss Anderson’s expression was blank- eerily so. “Mr McIntyre, the company is willing to pay an exorbitant amount for these models. Between you and me, I have no problem if you want to to drive up the price-”

“No.” Kenny grunted firmly. “I don’t care if you pay a million bucks a pop- I’m not selling them. I’m destroying them. Sorry for wasting your time, Miss Anderson.”

She suddenly grabbed him by the wrist, holding a little too tightly. “There’s nothing we can do to convince you?” She asked.

Her tone felt threatening to Kenny. Now that Kenny thought about it, why was the company so desperate? The new generation of animatronics they were making- the SparkleRocks or something- were infinitely more advanced than his had ever been. No matter what way he sliced it, he couldn’t think of a reason for Fazbear to pay hundreds of thousands of dollars for robots, especially murderous ones…

Unless that was exactly why they wanted them.

This shook Kenny to his core. It seemed impossible, but if it was true…

“No! Nothing!” Kenny yelled, trying to free his hand.

“Hm.” Miss Anderson used her other hand to tap her breast pocket.

Suddenly, a high-pitched ringing assaulted Kenny’s ears. Miss Anderson released him, but he couldn’t escape. The sound brought him to his knees, then to his side.

Then to unconsciousness.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kenny awoke.

He was outside, but it was dark, and dusty. The ground was coarse and rough beneath him.

Kenny was startled by the realization: he was in a desert. This hardly narrowed it down- this was Utah after all- but how had he gotten here?

Then, he finally noticed Miss Anderson, standing over him.

“You!” he said venomously.

“Yes, me.” Without another word, she aimed a pistol at him.

“Wait, wait! Don’t!” Kenny tried to scurry away, but his body still felt weak and useless.

Miss Anderson sighed. “That frequency was supposed to keep you under for a little longer. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“You kidnapped me…and I bet you stole the animatronics! Didn’t you?”

“It didn’t have to be this way. We were quite generous; you forced our hand.”

“My family knows where I was, what I was doing.”

“The words of one small-town family of nobodies won’t do much against Fazbear Entertainment’s whole legal team. We’ve covered up worse.” She wrapped her finger around the trigger.

Kenny made one last attempt to bide for time. “Look…why do you want the robots? If these things are worth killing for, at least tell me why.”

She hesitated, but eventually spoke. “I honestly can’t. You stumbled into the middle of something far greater than yourself. There’s really nothing else I can say. Goodbye, Mr McIntyre.”

And ear-shattering bangs filled Kenny’s ears. He felt a jolt of pain in his stomach, then nothing except a hot wetness. He felt around the area, and his hand came away coated in sticky blood.

Kenny fell to the ground again, but this time knew he wouldn’t awake.

“Finn…Evelyn…Sadie…I’m sorry…”

The last of his energy drained away, and Kenny was consumed by darkness.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You performed your part adequately.

Thank you.

The animatronics are secured?

Yes.

Transport them to ground zero for extraction.

I will.

This is merely a prelude. The real show is beginning soon. Are you ready?

I am.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #anthology #fazbear frights #horror #toy chica #balloon boy #mangle fnaf #toy animatronics #vanny #fnaf vanessa #fnaf vanny

2 notes · View notes

bekoobove · 8 months

Text

Infinity Train: Artist's Path

Chapter 1: The Library Car

Pages 1-7

#infinity train #fan comic #artistspath #marcusdean #randal #goldie #scifi #adventure

0 notes

bekoobove · 8 months

Text

Fazbear Fears #20: The Bucking Bull

9 Years Ago

Jared Montgomery knew his eleventh birthday party would be great. His parents were throwing him a party at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza- in his eyes, they might as well have booked a venue in heaven. He loved the place- though only this location.

That may sound strange to say, but it was true. In all honesty he had no interest in the dancing bears, bunnies, birds, or any other weird robots these restaurants had. He found them creepy, uncanny. The food wasn’t the draw, either- Jared had always felt the pizza was only marginally more tasty than the box it came in. No, what made him love Freddy Fazbear’s was the arcade. And what made this location his favorite were his high scores.

The letters JRD could be seen flashing in the high scores on every cabinet’s screen. Combat Kids, Zany Sword, Mangle’s Quest- you name it, he’d mastered them all.

Well, almost all…

As soon as he passed through the doors, he heard it. The cheesy western music and squeaking mechanical parts.

Jared caught sight of the large platform. The outside was lined with a fence, each corner topped with a plastic cattle skull. The platform itself was surrounded by inflatable cactuses and encouraging-looking cutouts of the Fazbear gang dressed like cowboys. And, at the platform’s center, bounding back and forth, was Jared’s nemesis: The Bucking Bull.

It was a fearsome foe. Two quarters was all it took to get it moving, but Jared had easily sunk forty dollars into trying to get the high score. Obviously most bucking rides like this didn’t have any such thing, but this one was different. There was a sensor in the saddle that tracked how long you could stay on, which transmitted the times to a screen hanging above the game. Jared was on the board- number four- which would be enough for most people, but not him.

But today, Jared had a good feeling. The high score was 2 minutes and 49 seconds, which he ultimately felt he could beat. And that high score would be the sweetest present of all.

He warmed up with a few rounds of Air Hockey with some of his friends- Sally, Benjamin, and Jacob. The first two were no problem, but Jacob presented a challenge. Jared didn’t mind- he liked a challenge (It helped that he won, best two out of three). Jacob had always been the best at these games of his friends, JCB usually lingering just below JRD.

It was Jacob who stood by his side as he approached the Bucking Bull. Jared glared at it. Its empty plastic eyes glared back, as a quick burst of steam shot out its nostrils. It felt like a Mexican standoff, with Jared almost expecting a tumbleweed to roll past. Still, the true confrontation wouldn’t begin until he mounted the ride.

He slid the quarters into the slot, causing the gate inside to open up. An employee standing at a small booth gestured him inside.

“Good luck.” Jacob said, smacking him on the back.

“Thanks, but not needed.” Jared smirked. He climbed up to the platform. “This is the last time, you stupid bull.” He muttered under his breath.

He climbed on and gave a thumbs up to the employee. They flipped a switch on their booth, and the rodeo began.

The next few minutes were a blur- literally. Try as he might, Jared couldn’t make out any faces cheering him on, although there were many. The western music blared louder than ever, and there was a voice on the soundtrack yelling YEE-HAW! Still, he kept a firm grip on the bull, not letting up for even a moment.

Eventually, though, he faltered, and was flung from the bull. He braced himself as he fell- less for the platform, and more for fear of failure

Jared crashed into the inflatable platform, but didn’t either bother trying to get up. He simply listened.

There was silence for a moment. Then, from the screen, he heard it.

“2 MINUTES AND 58 SECONDS. WE HAVE A NEW HIGH SCORE!”

Jared cheered, and jumped over the fence. His friends surrounded him, just as excited, congratulating him. There wasn’t any other fanfare, but Jared hardly cared. “I’m king of the arcade!” He yelled victoriously.

The employee winced at his sudden scream. “Yeah, great job, kid.” They said unenthusiastically, rubbing their temples in irritation. “Ok, do any of you other guys want to go?”

“Ooh, me!” Jacob crowed.

“You sure?” Jared asked. “I’ve seen you on the bull before, you’re not that good.”

“Why do you care? Scared I'll snatch your high score from under your nose?”

Jared chuckled. “Just trying to save you some quarters, buddy. But have at it.”

And Jacob did, depositing his quarters and boarding the bull. The ride began, and Jared prepared for him to be thrown off.

He wasn’t though, which impressed Jared- an attempt longer than five seconds for Jacob was rare. Even more seconds rushed by, until Jacob had beaten his personal record of 31 seconds.

Jared clapped. “Great job, dude! Best you’ve ever done.” He braced again, certain his friend wouldn’t last much longer. But to his shock which increased by the moment, he did. Jared would never be able to figure out what caused it- encouragement by seeing Jared’s high score ride, some elaborate rodeo training he’d undergone since his last try, or just some kind of luck. What mattered was that at this moment, Jacob was entering the top ten, and an unpleasant thought crossed Jared’s mind: “Am I gonna lose the high score?”

It was ridiculous. The previous high score had lasted for years, surely his wouldn’t be conquered within five minutes. And yet, no matter how quickly the bull spun and bounced, Jacob’s hands clamped onto it.

Jared had counted in his head. Only twenty seconds left and his high score would be gone.

He knew it was stupid. He’d still have second place, and he was undefeated on every other machine in this building; why care so much about this one?

Seventeen seconds.

It’s just…this was one of the only things he was good at. Jared wasn’t particularly athletic, or intelligent, or innovative- his teachers would often tell him as much. If he couldn’t be the best at this, then what was he?

Twelve seconds.

It didn’t matter what he thought or whether it mattered, it was over. Jared stumbled backwards…and realized he was right next to the control panel. He could make out a small lever set to HARD. A few inches above it was another setting. It read NIGHTMARE.

The ride could be made harder.

Ten seconds.

If Jared had thought about it even a moment longer, he would have realized how utterly stupid this was. There was an employee right there- even if he did the deed, he would be caught and get into major trouble. Definitely not worth it in the grand scheme of things. But Jared didn't have that moment. Instead, with one swift movement, he grabbed the lever and yanked it upwards.

Seven seconds.

The employee obviously noticed his movement, but rather than anger, horror grew on their face. Jared could hear the bull spinning faster, with scraping and squeaking from its machinery. He heard Jacob yell, startled and a little afraid.

Four seconds.

Jacred saw one last thing before his life changed forever. A small piece of duct tape stuck next to the NIGHTMARE setting, with a short note in permanent marker- POWER OUTPUT UNSTABLE AT THIS LEVEL- OFF LIMITS UNTIL REPAIRS.

Two seconds.

There was a scream, and for just a moment, Jared thought maybe everything would be ok. Surely Jacob had merely been thrown off, right?

Jared turned to see he had, but things would hardly be ok.

The sheer power of the bull’s buck had sent Jacob soaring, above the platform, over the fence, through the arcade-

Until he slammed skull first into a concrete pillar nearby. There was a nightmarish cracking sound, and Jacob’s body fell to the ground, limp.

“Jacob!” Jared screamed. He ran over to the pillar, as everyone else stared on in stunned silence.

Jacob’s hair was matted with blood, which dribbled out of his head. Jared swore he could see cracked chunks of bone peeking through the hair as well. His skull had been seriously fractured by the impact, and Jared knew there was no hope.

His friends tried to deny it, but Jared had always been a bit more shrewd than them. He was old enough to understand that there were some things doctors couldn’t heal you from, and this was one of those things. Jacob was declared dead as soon as EMTs arrived on the scene.

Dead.

Jacob was dead.

And Jared had killed them.

That simple fact whipped into a storm of conflict and controversy. How should he be charged? What were his intentions when he messed with the controls? There was no denying he had, the employee had caught him in the act, but his parents tried. “Our son wouldn’t do this, he’s a good boy!”, they would protest to anyone who reasoned with them. That pithy line was practically etched into his brain, as well as requests for testimony in his favor, advice for a lawsuit over the Bucking Bull’s faulty machinery, anything to shift the blame from their good boy.

And there Jared sat, huddled up in the eye of the storm. While the adults screamed and screamed, he was left alone with the fact that Jacob was gone because of him. It hadn’t been intentional, but did that even make a difference?

Eventually his family decided to move. They told anyone who listened they weren’t running from the accusations, they merely worried for Jared and his future. Anyone who asked Jared how he felt was met with silence and averted eyes.

Two months after his birthday, Jared’s family left their town, Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, and the Bucking Bull behind.

But it wasn’t finished with him yet.

8 Years Ago

His birthday had been empty.

Not of fun, or of gifts, or of friends. No, of joy.

Jared’s mind had finally begun to sift through his grief and guilt, and comprehend that if nothing else, feeling this broken and wrong wouldn’t bring Jacob back. He had emerged from his shell, and begun reaching out to people again. His trauma had been present, but buried, muffled.

Now, though, it was as if every cry of “Happy Birthday” sought to uncover the self-hate and agonizing regret that dwelled below. Every smiling face he saw brought horrible thoughts to his mind: “How am I going to kill you? What selfish mistake will I make to ruin everything?”

Eventually it was too much for him. He excused himself and locked himself in his bedroom. His parents tried to coax him out with promises of presents and cakes, but he couldn’t even begin to care about such things. He simply laid quietly on his bed, hoping they’d leave. Soon enough they did, and he drifted off into the sweet release of sleep.

But this was not a dreamless slumber.

Jared opened his eyes and picked himself off the dusty ground. “What…”

He immediately realized this was a dream, which had never happened to him before. It seemed like a lucid dream. After he’d first heard the term a few years ago, he’d spent weeks attempting to trigger one, not that he had any idea how to do that.

Still, this didn’t even feel like that. The environment felt- for lack of a better term- real. His eyes even watered a bit at the dust he’d kicked up while he moved. Jared tried to get a bearing of his surroundings.

He was in a small, fenced-in square. A firm wooden fence lined it, and beyond there was nothing but unnerving, endless void. There was nothing left to see.

Then, a snarl from the middle of the ring. And yes, Jared was certain this was a ring.

Sure enough, a cloud of dust was being kicked up at the center by the Bucking Bull. This wasn’t the first time this reminder of his past had stampeded through his dreams, but he could tell it had always just been flotsam, drifting in and out, like anything else your mind occupied itself with during the day. But this dream felt like it had been made for the Bull. Not only that, the Bull was not right. The plastic form itself wasn’t the disturbing part- it was the same bucking ride which had gobbled Jared’s quarters for months, though its eyes were now empty sockets. What scared him were the additions- the arms and legs it used to stamp the ground even now. And yes, that was the right term- arms and legs. They were smaller than the Bull, in a way that would be comical under different circumstances, and clearly belonged to a child.

To Jacob.

The boy and Bull had fused into one horrifying hybrid of man and machine. A hybrid that came charging at Jared.

So enraptured by the monstrosity, Jared didn’t even move. The Bull bucked upwards, and its horns (had they always been so long and pointy?) impaled Jared.

Jared screamed. The pain was real- more real than any dream had any right to be. He could feel fractured bone shifting in his torso, and he struggled to breathe. Warm blood cascaded out, forming a dark stain on his shirt.

The creature huffed, in a way that indicated grim satisfaction. It braced its hands against his body and pulled its horns out. Jared collapsed to the ground.

At least, he would have. As he fell, he suddenly awoke in a cold sweat. Jared was shell-shocked. “What- what was that?” he whispered to himself. What chilled him most of all was that it felt like he had woken just as his dream-self died. As if he had only been allowed to wake because that thing had finished with him.

That thing…

“Jacob. That was you.” Jared didn’t know if Jacob was still present, but he spoke anyway. It was insane to say, but it was true- some figment of Jacob had returned to torment him.

Jared didn’t sleep the rest of the night. He wouldn’t sleep for many more nights.

5 Years Ago

It was like tradition at this point.

Eventually Jared returned to some sense of normalcy after that first nightmare. But it wouldn’t be the last. His following birthday bore the same fruit- the same horrid dream, down to the smallest detail and up to the grisly end. He attempted to stay awake the whole night the year after, but failed (Jared was unsure if it was supernatural interference or if he just wasn’t good at staying up that long). Three made a pattern, and Jared accepted his fate- annual torment that he honestly felt he deserved.

In a way it was almost relieving. This birthday was the best one he’d had since his mistake, because he no longer felt the guilty need to torture himself- someone else was doing it for him. And today had truly been great- his parents, who had been quite distant lately, treated him and his friends to dinner at a great Mexican place in town. He’d gotten some great gifts, including flying lessons from his parents (He’d always wanted to be a pilot). Overall, it had been one of the best days he’d had in years, and made him reluctant to climb into bed. He knew this wouldn’t be a pleasant sleep, but what choice did he have?

After a restless hour, bracing for what was to come, Jared drifted off. As expected, he found himself in that arena. It was the same as always.

At least, until the Bull appeared. Jared could never see it happen- it always materialized just out of sight. Still, he heard the huff, and turned. The Bull had changed. Rather than being just as it was with the grotesque additions of its limbs, the abomination before him was constructed of marbled flesh, bone, and muscle. It looked greasy and rotten, and there was a long, needle-toothed mouth along its upper back, from which a deep growl emanated. Its head was covered in several extra eyes, which all glared at Jared accusingly. Even in his dream, he could feel vomit rising in his throat.

That was nothing compared to what happened when it spoke.

“JARED.”

“I SAW YOU. YOUR PARTY.”

“YOU WERE LAUGHING. SMILING.

“YOU KNOW YOU DON��T DESERVE THAT.”

The Bull’s words were a kick in the gut. And yet, Jared felt like it was right. He had always known he didn’t deserve any happiness, but tried to deny it.

“THIS IS WHAT YOU DESERVE. THIS PLACE HERE.”

“YOU WILL DIE, OVER AND OVER AGAIN.”

“YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES.”

“YOUR CARELESSNESS.”

“YOUR SELFISHNESS.”

“YOU WILL SUFFER. AND YOUR SUFFERING WILL HAVE NO END.”

With that, the abomination- a stitched-up, bleeding reminder that Jared wasn’t worthy of joy- charged and gored.

Jared didn’t even put up a fight.

1 Year Ago

It had to just be in his head.

Not the Bull, no. Jared knew very well that that was real. Each year they became more brutal. The pain of his goring wasn’t just familiar- he knew it like he knew the flight controls of a plane, except he had no power to change the course. What was in question was the feeling of agony that occasionally erupted from his torso while he was awake. It was like two red-hot knives were being driven into his chest, puncturing organs and cracking ribs.

Obviously it was the Bull’s horns. But that had always been confined to his dreams.

He had made certain to have no plans the day after his birthday: he usually needed the time to recover from the increasingly violent mental assaults. But a particularly vicious spike of pain left him speeding to the hospital, praying they’d have a rational answer for what was wrong with him.

He eventually was looked over by a woman named Dr Gray. She ran some tests, but still couldn’t find anything wrong- at least, until she had some technicians run an x-ray.

Jared waited in the examination room for a few minutes, before she reentered looking concerned.

“Ok, so I got a look at the x-ray in the lab, and I can bring it up here on this screen. Maybe you can explain the…oddity present.”

Dr Gray grabbed a remote and flicked the screen to display the scan. It showed Jared’s torso, most prominently his ribcage. The bones looked slightly bent and displayed cracks.

“It appears your ribcage was broken, but not severely. In fact, it looks like it healed more quickly than should be possible. Even stranger, some examination of the fractures gives the impression this injury occurred multiple times.”

She sighed. “Can you shed some light on this? Even apart from the bizarre nature of your condition, there is no reason it should be causing pain like this.”

Jared hesitated, before deciding to let a little of the truth slip. “I’ve had this recurring nightmare for years. I’m trapped with a monster, and it always kills me, goring me on its horns right there. It feels so real. Do you think that might have anything to do with it?”

Dr Gray frowned. “There’s a known phenomena called psychogenic pain, where your psychology and emotions can cause you to imagine pain. It could even result in true physical symptoms, but nothing this severe. And this is severe.

The damage is building up, and the bones are weaker than they’d otherwise be. I fear if whatever has been happening to you occurs one more time, it could completely fracture your rib cage. This could very well be fatal.”

She began prescribing an anti-anxiety medication for his dreams, which was hardly a novel experience for Jared. The last word echoed through his mind: FATAL.

Was this what Jacob had intended the whole time? Not just mental torment for the sake of it, but to slowly wear down his body. Now, he was running out of time.

Jared didn’t deserve this.

It was such an absurd thought. He had spent nearly a decade enduring the attacks of the demonic Bull because he felt like it was his punishment. He was a bad person, who had killed a boy. But now, when confronted with death, he wasn’t sure. Did he really deserve everything he had suffered, for what had ultimately been a mistake? Why shouldn’t he be allowed a happy life?

These questions piling up in his head were a shock to the system. Jared had never even questioned his place. But now, he was tired of being pushed around, and he was angry that Jacob would do this to him. Yes, as bizarre as it sounded, Jacob had crossed a line in the quest for post-mortem vengeance he’d set out on. And he needed to be stopped.

No matter how long it took.

Now

“Cutting it close, are we?” Jared sighed as he pulled into the abandoned parking lot.

He had begun his mission of searching for the Bull mere days after his troubling diagnosis. Jared had assumed it was still located in his hometown pizzeria, which had closed shortly after Jacob’s death. Alas, it wasn’t so simple. Jared was somewhat disgusted to learn the company had simply relocated the best animatronics and attractions to other restaurants, which included the Bucking Bull.

From there the ride had been pawned off from place to place. Over one six-month period, it had gone from a junkyard to a local sports bar to a Fazbear location to an inflatable-attraction renter. From what Jared could learn, the ride no longer functioned well, and carried a rotting smell no matter how much it was washed, thus no one holding onto it long after it was purchased. But Jared had finally pinned it down. The most recent Freddy Fazbear’s it had been installed in had quickly folded, and no one had touched its contents since.

And here he was. Jared stepped out of his pickup truck, a crowbar in one hand and a holstered pistol at his side. “One way or another, it ends tonight.”

The doors were boarded up, but he easily pried them off. He walked inside the building, scanning for the machine.

The info Jared had received was accurate. The restaurant hadn’t even been touched- rows of arcade games without any gaps, and the three animatronics powered down on the main stage. If he didn’t know any better, he’d assume it was just closed for the night.

The Bull wasn’t in sight, though. It had been purchased extremely recently; perhaps it was still uninstalled, stored in the back?

Jared spotted a door at the back: STAFF ONLY. “Good place to start, I guess.”

He swiftly walked across the main room, but paused. Had he just heard a voice, echoing through the empty restaurant?

No, no. It was in his head.

But was that enough to say it wasn’t real?

Jared grasped the doorknob and turned. The door swung open, and there it was.

The Bucking Bull.

He hadn’t seen it for a decade in its ordinary state, surely it would be easier to stomach than the flesh beast that haunted his dreams? Nothing but a torso and head molded from shiny black plastic. And yet he almost vomited. It was all coming back- the control panel, the red duct tape with a scrawled warning, the smashed, bloody skull of his best friend.

Jared stumbled forward, trembling. The platform around the bull had been deflated, leaving nothing but the central motor with trailing wires. It was dead center in the room, surrounded by other animatronic parts- almost like it was a place of honor.

With all his strength, Jared raised his crowbar. He closed his eyes, and brought it down onto the machine’s plastic head-

CLANG

Before Jared even opened his eyes he knew something was wrong. That wasn’t the hollow sound of metal hitting plastic. That was the harsh sound of metal striking metal. However, that observation didn’t prepare him for what he saw.

Before him stood the Bull- yes, stood. Silently, and faster than Jared thought possible, the Bull had gained legs formed of nearby parts. It had swiftly brought one up to block his blow, and had succeeded.

Jared couldn’t even process this before the limb reshifted, closing around his crowbar, gripping it tight. It pulled it out of his grasp and threw it against the wall.

Jared tried to scream, but no sound came out. The Bull approached, lumbering along on its horrible legs of mangled metal. Once it was within a foot of him, it spoke.

“JARED.”

“THANK YOU FOR COMING.”

“BUT PLEASE. CEASE THIS NONSENSE.”

Jared wasn’t sure if it read his mind or the confused expression on his face, because it clarified.

“THESE DELUSIONS THAT THIS IS A FIGHT YOU SHOULD WIN.”

“YOU DESERVE TO DIE. I THOUGHT YOU HAD FINALLY UNDERSTOOD WHEN YOU CAME.”

“THAT OUR BOUTS WITHIN YOUR HEAD WERE AN INVITATION. YOUR MOUNTING INJURIES MY WAY OF LIGHTING A FIRE UNDER YOU.”

“YOU WERE MEANT TO COME READY TO DIE. YOUR FINAL BREATH BEGETTING LONG OVERDUE JUSTICE.”

“PERHAPS NOW YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?”

Jared did. He stopped his slow retreat. He lowered his arms from their defensive pose. And he prepared to die.

The Bull’s leg reshaped again, into a long, oily spike of gears and pistons. It positioned it against Jared’s chest- one slight movement would drive it through his heart.

“I’m sorry, Jacob.” Jared said, as a tear rolled down his cheek. He knew it would earn him no mercy from the Bull, and he hardly felt he deserved any, but he just felt the need to say it.

And then, a voice.

“Jared, please! Run!”

Jacob.

Jared gasped, and somewhat awoke from his trance. He grabbed the Bull’s limb and twisted it away from himself. The Bull was clearly thrown off guard, and stumbled backwards. This gave Jared the chance to run.

He burst out of the backroom and into the main showroom. He ducked behind an arcade machine and tried to be as quiet as possible.

The backroom door slammed open, and Jared could hear the lumbering Bull, creaking on its amalgamated limbs.

As the monster moved, Jared tried to concentrate. “Jacob?” he thought as strongly as he could, hoping his friend would be able to hear.

“Hey, Jared.”

Suddenly, the world around Jared collapsed, and he resurfaced in the ring. The same place that had been home to so many deaths. But it felt different, more peaceful in a weird way.

And standing there was Jacob- a short brown-haired kid in a striped shirt, smiling awkwardly. There were no remnants on his body of his fatal injury.

Jared stared, unsure of what to say. Eventually he forced himself to speak. “Uh, hey. Why’d you tell me to run?”

Jacob stared back, confused. “Because you were just standing there even though you were about to be stabbed?”

“But isn’t that what you wanted? Weren’t you just telling me about how I deserved to die?”

Jacob sighed. “Jared, that wasn’t me. I’m not the Bucking Bull.”

“What?!” Jared asked incredulously. “Then why are you here?”

“Ok, maybe I sort of am. Ever since…the accident, when I died, I’ve possessed the Bull. I’m not sure why, it just sort of happened. But I’m not the one that tormented you in your dreams and is trying to kill you now.”

“Who is?”

“You.”

There was a completely deafening silence. “No.” Jared muttered. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not trying to kill myself.”

“In some subconscious way, you are. I’m not an expert on how this works, but from my time as a spirit, I’ve learned that the emotions of the living and the dead are powerful. They can animate nonliving objects, or hurt people. And one of the most powerful emotions is guilt.”

“So you’re saying because I felt bad for killing you this thing is gonna kill me? I haven't even been close to it since what happened.”

“First off, my theory is that since you knew the Bull so well, and it was so directly connected to your guilt, it caused a connection that helped your emotions be transferred no matter how far away you got. And secondly, stop saying you killed me.”

“What do you want me to say?!” Jared cried. His knees trembled, and he fell to the dusty ground. “I messed with the controls of a ride you were on, all because I wanted to keep a stupid high score! You’d be alive today if not for me. Maybe the Bull- maybe I- was right all along. I don’t deserve to live.”

Jared felt a hand on his shoulder. “You’re wrong.” Jacob said. “You made a dumb mistake. You were eleven. I’m glad you’re willing to accept responsibility, but you can’t let your guilt tear you apart.”

Jared wiped his eyes. “Why are you even comforting me? Why is this your problem?”

Jacob grinned. “Honestly? I think this is why I stayed after I died. You’re my friend. I wanted to help you.”

Suddenly, the arena was consumed with unimaginably bright light. “Guess that’s my cue.” Jacob said as the white consumed him. “Good luck, Jared. See you again, someday.”

When the light faded, Jared could see the dusty arena- his place of self-torment- was gone.

And then Jared awoke. He was back in the pizzeria, and the Bull was still raging.

Quietly, with no urgency, Jared climbed to his feet and walked out from behind the arcade machine.

The Bull caught him out of the corner of its eye. It snarled, and stamped the ground, preparing to charge.

“Listen.” Jared began. “I know what you are now. You’re me.”

The Bull barely reacted.

“I made a mistake. And because of that, Jacob died. For so long, I’ve been unable to forgive myself.”

YOU DON’T DESERVE FORGIVENESS.

“I’m not denying what I did. But torturing myself like this won’t bring Jacob back. He’s forgiven me; maybe I should too.”

JUSTICE MUST BE SERVED.

“You are kind of right. I left town so quickly, it didn’t give me the chance to do some things. Apologize to Jacob’s family, and his friends…I should do that.” Jared stared the beast down, determined. “But I won’t accept you killing me. I’m done being haunted by a past I can’t change.”

There was silence. It was as if the Bull was, for the first time, struggling to condemn him.

I JUST WANT PEACE. FOR THIS NIGHTMARE WE BEGAN TO END.

“Then end it.”

The Bull was still. Then, it crumbled. The plastic body hit the ground with a THUD, and the metal joints and limbs it had used clattered apart.

The Bull was gone.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jared slid into his car, tossing his crowbar into the back seat. He pulled out of the parking lot, and eventually made it onto the highway.

The sun peered over the horizon, coloring the distance pink and red. The rolled-down windows ushered a calming, cool breeze into the vehicle. The world was alive and hopeful, and for the first time in almost a decade Jared felt the same.

“Thank you, Jacob.” he said quietly, once again certain there would be no answer.

He continued his drive, making sure to enjoy the dawn as he went.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #anthology #fazbear frights #horror #cw: gore #body horrow cw #bull #bucking bull

2 notes · View notes

bekoobove · 9 months

Text

Fazbear Fears #19: Cretaceous Land

…Sawyer has been away from home for a long time, and hopes to reconnect with his younger sister…

Sawyer tapped the steering wheel in beat with the music. Some pop song he’d never heard before, but he’d found it on the radio and it was catchy. It came to a close just as he pulled into his destination. He loved it when that happened.

He stepped out of the car and headed towards the front entrance, but before he even made it to the porch the door slammed open and two figures ran at him.

“Honey!”

“Sawyer!”

His mom and dad wrapped their arms around him, tears of joy streaming down their cheeks. “It’s been so long!” Mom weeped.

Sawyer grinned and kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry, I know I was supposed to come back for spring break, but some of the other guys invited me and Jessie on their trip to Myrtle Beach. I just figured after two years at college, I’d earned that kind of vacation.”

His dad sighed. “Oh, I get it. You prefer being around your fancy new friends and your pretty girlfriend rather than visiting your folks.” At this, Sawyer frowned, guilty. Then his dad chuckled. “Just messing with you, kiddo. I’m glad you’re getting out there and doing your own thing.”

Sawyer looked around as they walked inside. “Where’s Alexis?”

His parents frowned. Dad eventually spoke up. “She…was a little more mad about you not coming home. I think she’s trying to give you the cold shoulder.”

Seeing the look of guilt fall over Sawyer’s face again, Dad smacked him on the back affectionately. “But there’s still the surprise! I’m sure after you take her there today she’ll forgive you. You have the passes?”

Sawyer fished them out of his pocket and showed them to him.

“Great! She’s just…in her room.”

“I’ll get her.” Sawyer said. “And remember we’re meeting back up at the Ye Olde Steakhouse after for dinner.”

Sawyer slowly traipsed up the stairs, tracing his fingers along the wooden railing. He just couldn’t get over it, how weird it felt to be back. He had so many memories of this place- Christmases, summer breaks, even the normal, boring grind of school felt nostalgic and warm. Most valuable of all was the time he had spent with his little sister, Alexis.

She was much younger than him- he was 10 when she was born. He had always been by her side, like a third parent to her. They loved each other. But ever since Sawyer had left for college, things had been different. They’d been growing further apart. Sawyer had to admit that was probably his fault, but what was he supposed to do? College was his chance to assert independence; he couldn’t stay here and be her best friend forever.

Maybe today would help. He arrived at her door and knocked.

There was no answer.

“Alexis? Hey, it’s me.”

A voice sounded from inside. “Go away. I don’t want to see you.”

“Come on, sis. I know you’re mad at me, but I’m here now. Let’s at least talk it out.”

There was the sound of footsteps, and the door cracked open. Through it, Sawyer could see a sliver of Alexis’ scowling face framed by curly red hair.

“Well? How’s college?” She growled. “Hope it’s pretty good, since you chose it over me.”

“Alexis, I know I should have come home sooner, but you need to understand that I have a life outside of this family. I’m an adult now.”

“Then why come back at all? Just stick with your new family.”

She moved to close the door, but Sawyer stuck his shoe in the crack, holding it open.

“Look, Mom and Dad want us to go and bond. And it just so happens that I got us tickets to a very special place.”

Her eyebrow raised. “To where?”

“Guess you’ll never know if you just stay in your room. Maybe I’ll just go by myself, if you’re not interested.”

Sawyer whistled as he began walking away. As expected, the door creaked open behind him.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll go.” Alexis muttered as she caught up to him.

“Great. By the way…” He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a blindfold. “Put this one when we get in the car.”

“Are you trying to kidnap me or something?”

“It’s so you can’t guess before we can get there. That’s sort of the point of a surprise after all.”

She sighed, and snatched it from his hand. “This better be good…”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright, we’re here! You can take it off now.”

“Finally!” Alexis groaned, loosening the cloth strip from around her face. “I’ve been wearing this for like half an hour!”

“I promise, this surprise is worth it.”

“Come on, what could be so…” The blindfold fell in Alexis’ lap, as she dropped it, stunned.

In front of their car, across the packed parking lot stood a large concrete building. It was a rather dull structure that must have been a warehouse at some point. But since then the outside had been painted with elaborate dioramas of a tropical, prehistoric landscape populated with dinosaurs. And above the entrance a large statue of a t-rex’s upper body protruded from the wall. In its little arms it held a sign: CRETACEOUS LAND.

The new attraction had made a big splash when it was announced. Sawyer’s city definitely had a few tourist-trap-type attractions, but nothing on this scale. It was a large indoor jungle filled with animatronic dinosaurs. These robots were the main attraction, and justifiably. From a few advertisements that had been released, they were as realistic as scientifically possible, and some of the smaller models could even roam freely rather than repeating the same movements in one place. Sawyer had been amazed, and he’d never even had much of a dinosaur phase.

Alexis, on the other hand, had had one for her whole life.

“DotheyhavedeinonychusesIknowthereweren’tanyinthecommericalsbuthowcouldtheynotdeinonychusesarethebest-”

Alexis continued, barely stopping for breath. Sawyer chuckled. She was normally a relatively quiet girl, but when she was excited about something she would not shut up.

“Worth the wait?” He asked somewhat smugly.

Alexis instantly calmed herself, trying to keep up her cold front as she stuffed the blindfold in her pocket. “Oh, yeah, I guess it’s alright.”

They quickly made their way to the entrance and passed through the sleek double doors.

It was even more amazing on the inside. They had gone all out on the jungle theme- dozens of tall fake trees with thick canopies and long vines dangling from them. The floor was covered with exotic looking flora interspersed with large plastic rocks. A purveyor of smoke machines must have had a very profitable day recently, because there had to be dozens of them pumping out a warm mist throughout the building. Sawyer could hear interesting noises as well- the cascading thunder of an artificial waterfall, the squeaking and rustling of small, hiding creatures playing over the speakers, and, most excitingly, the roars of dinosaurs big and small.

A bored-looking teenage girl took their tickets and waved them into the main area. A crowd was gathered there, listening to an energetic man of about thirty speak. Sawyer recognized him from the commercials- it was Garret Lowry, the owner and founder of Cretaceous Land.

Sawyer and Alexis both paid close attention as he continued.

“...for years I wanted to create robots like the ones you’ll see today. Advanced machine capable of bringing unique, incredible entertainment. You will be the first of many- I hope, at least.”

This got a laugh from the group.

“It’s for that reason that I’ll be your tour guide today.” Garret said enthusiastically. “It looks like we have enough people for a tour, so I suppose we can-”

Another employee rushed up to Garret and tapped him on the shoulder, and whispered something.

“Oh- sorry, folks. I just got a call from our sponsor. Gotta go answer it, it shouldn't take more than a few minutes.”

Garret walked away.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Yeah, we opened about half an hour ago. Just got a crowd big enough for a tour.”

Garret paced around his office as he held the phone to his ear.

There was a pause, then an answer.

“Fantastic.” Ms Armstrong replied. “I speak for everyone here at Fazbear Entertainment who was involved in this deal that you did not disappoint.”

“Well, that’s thanks to you. You sure you don’t want me to put up some kind of advertisement or something? It feels weird that you’re sponsoring me and I’m not giving anything in return.”

“The attraction itself is all the return we need, Mr Lowry.”

That had been the deal after all. Fazbear Entertainment had sent its engineers to help make his somewhat-impressive models into some of the most advanced animatronics in the world, with smooth movements, realistic designs, and even security features like facial recognition for criminals. Apparently it went even beyond that, but Garret was interested in making entertainers, not bodyguards, so he’d let Fazbear Entertainment’s people cover it. All Garret had to in return was monitor their behaviors and see how they interacted with guests, so when the company utilized the technology for their own animatronics, they could better understand what made them tick.

“Fair enough.” He responded. “Guess ol’ Fazbear doesn’t exactly need advertising from a tourist trap like mine.”

“Actually, there is one request we wish to make of you.”

“Alright, shoot.”

“We wish to see how the robots will react to being with only one or two guests. Some of the higher ups are worried about how this could affect their behavior.”

Garret raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying they may turn aggressive or something? Ms Armstrong, I can’t in good conscience force a guest to play guinea pig with stakes like that.”

Ms Armstrong laughed. “You’ve been watching too many sci-fi movies or something. It’s unlikely anything worse will happen than they stop performing.”

“Eh, if you say so.”

“Keep a close eye and write down anything unusual. Good luck with your first day, Mr Lowry.”

The line went dead.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alexis was beginning to grow impatient, so Sawyer was relieved when Garret returned.

“Again, sorry about that folks! Let’s get started, ok?”

He pointed to the beginning of a concrete path, which snaked through the forest. “This way!”

With that, the tour began.

Only a few steps in, Sawyer felt like he was in a different world. They first passed a small lake. A long, scaly neck leaned down from above and placidly sipped from the water. It was an alamosaurus, who soon retreated back into the jungle thicket. A little further, they could see an oviraptor slink towards a nest, ignoring the crowd snapping pictures, and snatch an egg from the stick structure. And eventually, they came to a lowering guardpost with a large yellow sign with the silhouette of a triceratops which read CERATOPSIAN CROSSING. A large, hulking triceratops lumbered across the path, to the oohs and aahs of the tour group.

“That was amazing!” Alexis yelled, running up to Garret and tugging his shirt as the post rose back up. “How do you get them to do that?”

“Alexis!” Sawyer pulled her back. “Sorry, sir, she’s just really excited about all this.”

“Oh, no. I don’t mind. In fact, we’re coming up on the answer to that question. Come on, everyone!”

The group followed him for another minute, then essentially gasped in unison.

They seemed to be against the back wall. The jungle scene sloped upwards into a small hill, which was topped with a leafy mass of green. Leaning over the bushes was the biggest robot they’d seen yet- a giant Tyrannosaurus Rex.

It was coated in a scaly green rubber with no gaps, completely hiding its animatronic elements. The only machinery exposed was inside the mouth, but it was well obscured by the leathery tongue and sharp yellow teeth. It really seemed like a T-Rex had leaped out of prehistory for tourists to enjoy. One thing did seem off, though- its eyes glowed green, and they seemed to be constantly glancing around, never focusing on one spot.

“This is our residential king of the dinos, or as we call him, Tyrone O’Saurus!”

The joke was met with equal amounts of chuckles and groans.

“Aside from being a beauty in his own right, Tyrone is connected to the mainframe. From his vantage point, he can observe the entire attraction and where guests are in it. Thus, he can relay information to all the other dinos like where to look, and- for some of more advanced models- when and where to walk. And that,” he looked pointedly at Alexis, “is how we ‘get them to do that’.”

Content with this answer, Alexis returned to Sawyer’s side. The group continued onwards, passing more dinosaurs each step of the way.

Finally they exited the jungle. Sawyer saw a gift shop, proving this was the exit.

Garret grinned. “Alright, everyone, I hope you enjoyed your adventure through the primordial forests of…Cretaceous World! Now, we have lovely t-shirts, plushies, posters…”

His pitch for the shop was interrupted by a flash of concern on his face, like he just realized he’d forgotten something important.

“Oh! Uh…” He stammered as he thought. “Oh- oh wait!” Garret patted his pockets. “Darn it, I must have set my phone down near the exhibit with the spinosaurus! Would any of you be kind enough to run over and retrieve it?”

Alexis jumped. “Me and my brother! We can get it!”

“Wait, why are you volunteering us for this?” Sawyer growled quietly.

“We can look at the dinosaurs more on the way.” she muttered.

“If you two would go, I’d really appreciate that.” Garret prodded.

“Alright, fine. We’ll do it. C’mon, Alexis.” She skipped off into the woods excitedly. Sawyer, a little exasperated, followed.

About five minutes of walking along the path, the siblings reached the small clearing that the spinosaurus stood next to. It roared at them, and Alexis giggled.

“Come on, we’ve wasted enough time already. If we don’t hurry, we’ll be late for dinner!” Sawyer scanned the area. “Huh, no tables or anything. Where would he have set it down?”

“Maybe it’s not here.” Alexis suggested.

“Maybe, but where else would it be?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In Garret’s hand, held to his ear, as it turned out.

“It’s done, Ms Armstrong. I sent a brother and a sister back into the attraction alone. I’m heading to the security room now to monitor the results.”

“Excellent. Call back if anything unusual happens.”

The call ended and Garret finished walking up the steps. The security room was located up a flight of stairs, with windows that gazed out into the attraction. He could see most of it from up here, though some of the denser parts of the forest required cameras.

He quickly began monitoring those. If he’d been looking out the windows, he may have caught a glance of Tyrone O’Saurus, in the distance, staring towards the spinosaurus exhibit with a distinctly predatorial look in its eye…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was a slight, mechanical grinding noise from behind Sawyer. He turned to see a set of long, skinny jaws lunging at him.

Sawyer screamed. He grabbed Alexis by her collar and pulled her down to the ground as he did the same. The spinosaurus’ bite mostly missed them, but a tooth did scrape his arm.

Alexis, now aware of the situation, also began screaming. The pair scurried away, and stumbled to their feet when out of range of its toothy maw.

“What’s going on?!” Alexis panicked.

Sawyer stared at the cut on his arm, which was bleeding. “I don’t know…” he whispered, “but these things have actual sharp teeth.”

The spinosaurus maneuvered its body, leaning out to block the exit path.

“Crud.” Sawyer grumbled, his mind racing. “Ok, we can’t come out the way we came in. Let’s just go all the way around to the main entrance.”

“But what about all the other robots?”

“This is probably some weird glitch unique to this one. There’s no way they’re supposed to do this.” Sayer said reassuringly, though he wasn’t sure he believed that.

“Let’s just hurry. It’s best to keep moving.”

Alexis and Sawyer dashed down the path, hoping things were better in the other direction.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They weren’t.

Though they didn’t have any calls as close, both siblings could tell this was not a problem affecting only the spinosaurus. All the dinosaurs which were immobile glared at them with a fierce, hungry look in their plastic eyes. The free roaming triceratops came for them, but it was quite easy to outrun the sluggish beast. They were safe for now, but Sawyer had a feeling that might not last.

“Any ideas?” Alexis asked nervously.

“No.” Sawyer said sharply. “Why are you looking to me for this, why should I know?”

“You’re older.” She answered. “And you’ve been to college.”

“Well if there was a course in how to deal with rogue robot dinosaurs, I must have missed it.” Sawyer perked up, though, at a familiar scaly face- the alamosaurus. “This is near where we came in! We’re almost out.”

The dino growled at them, but was unable to do anything more. The siblings dashed past it, ready to exit and for this nightmare to be over…

But were stopped by a large, metal roll-down gate.

“Wh-what?” Sawyer stammered, slamming his fists in confusion and anger on the gate. “The attraction hasn’t closed yet! And why is this at the entrance to the jungle instead of the outside of the building?”

“Maybe to keep the animatronics from wandering out.” Alexis suggested. She froze, then added shakily, “Or to keep people in…”

“What are you saying?”

“Mr Lowry told us to go to the spinosaurus for his phone, but we never found it. What if he wanted to be trapped alone with the dinosaurs?”

Sawyer gasped. “Woah, I may not know Garret that well, but he doesn’t seem like he wants to kill people. Besides, he clearly loves this place. Would he throw that all away just to become a murderer?”

“The robots are designed to be dangerous and this whole place is built like a maze! It’s a perfect death trap.”

Sawyer couldn’t argue with that. He tried to think of a new plan of escape, but was interrupted by a growl only a dozen feet away.

The pair turned to see two robotic raptors creeping up towards them. Their claws tapped along the ground as they stepped forward lightly. Weirdly, Sawyer didn’t remember seeing them on the initial tour, though that was likely because the animatronics were missing patches of their coverings, and looked to be incomplete. Nevertheless, they looked very capable of tearing their throats out.

“RUN!” Sawyer yelled.

“Where?” Alexis protested.

“Into the forest, come on!”

Sawyer sprinted into the thick woods. Alexis followed, hesitantly but quickly, and the raptors did as well.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Garret absentmindedly looked out the window, then did a double take. “Wait, why are the security doors down?”

He began frantically checking the cameras. He had tried this before to watch the robot’s reactions to the people he’d sent in, but to no avail: the spinosaurus cam had fuzzed out, as well as seemingly random other ones as he flipped through. It was almost like they malfunctioned when looking at where the people were, but that made no sense. Still, he searched. If those people hadn’t left, then they were locked in and needed to be let back out.

He was unable to find anything. “Ok, don’t panic.” Garret whispered to himself. “I’ll just open the gate. They'll find their own way out.”

He leaned over and slapped the large red button, designed to open the doors in case of emergency. But nothing happened. A message popped up on his computer which read UNKNOWN ERROR.

“What…”

Garret racked his mind for a solution. “Oh, maybe I could go in through the maintenance hallway. I’ll just find them and lead them out.”

Confident in this new plan and unaware of the danger he was entering, Garret left the office and entered into a discreet door painted to blend with the wall. The door slammed behind him, trapping him in utter darkness.

“This isn’t right.” He muttered. “The lights should turn on automatically.” He reached into his belt and pulled out his flashlight. Clicking it on, he advanced, only able to see a few feet in from of him.

As creepy as the environment was, and as concerned about what trapping two customers in his attraction could mean for his business, he couldn’t help but feel a little nostalgia as his light flashed over the artifacts of Cretaceous Land’s past. Some fake trees leaned against the wall, with cobwebs stringing between them. Old robotic parts littered the floor, some as simple as a piston, others whole animatronic skulls. Those got to Garret more than anything- remnants of his failed attempts.

The simple fact was, Garret was good, but he was simply not good enough to create an attraction of this scale full of realistic dinosaurs, let alone some that would wander about. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, his role in Cretaceous Land’s creation- his dream’s creation- was minimal at best. Fazbear Entertainment was responsible for everything.

That’s why he had to cater to their needs, even odd requests like the one that had kicked this whole situation off. It hurt enough being barely more than a spectator in the birth of this place- he didn’t want to lose it all if he upset the company.

Something odd caught his eye. There had been three deinonychus models scattered around a workbench- the only Fazbear Entertainment animatronics to be currently unused, as they had not been functioning properly. But now, only one remained.

“Did the staff move them? I told ‘em not to mess with the robots…” Garret grumbled. There were bigger fish to fry, though, so he turned to move onward. However, the noise of movement and machinery caused him to turn back. What he saw shocked him.

The raptor had gotten up, and attempted to sneak up on him. There was a crazed look in its mechanical eyes.

With no hesitation, the robot charged towards him.

Garret leaped out of the way, and the robot charged forward into the wall. This shook the shelf above, sending tools and spray paint cans raining down on it, but it remained undeterred. It backed up to see Garret running away. It quickly began its pursuit.

Garret panicked as he ran. “You’re not supposed to be able to do this!” He yelled at the bot, as if upon hearing this it would start behaving as it should. Finally, he reached the door, and slammed it in the deinonychus’ face.

He locked it, but the animatronic continued to bang against the door. He grabbed hold of a large prop rock in the path and used it to barricade the door.

“Guess I can’t go back that way…” Garret groaned. The full weight of what just occurred hit him, and he sat down on the rock, trying to regain his bearings. “Did…did Fazbear Entertainment do this?”

The thought was ridiculous at first, but he had to admit the company had always been a bit shady- going to such lengths to conceal their involvement with the attraction, and the strange order given by Miss Armstrong. He also didn’t know what scared him more- the idea that Fazbear’s robots could so easily be glitched into attacking people, or the idea that they were working exactly as intended.

From his left, the trees rustled. Garret stiffened, certain the other deinonychuses were stampeding towards him, with intent to kill. Sure enough, two figures came charging out of the thicket…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I think we lost them.” Sawyer panted, looking back into the woods. Alexis didn’t respond.

“Alexis?” Sawyer turned. He saw her staring gaped-mouthed at Mr Lowry, sitting on a rock against the wall.

“You!” He growled. “You’re the one behind all this, aren’t you?”

Mr Lowry raised his arms defensively. “Woah, woah, wait! I can explain!”

“Bro, hear him out.” Alexis suggested.

“I didn’t design these robots.” Mr Lowry admitted, somewhat embarrassed. “I got help from an outside investor. They’re the ones who ordered me to send someone back here, to see how the animatronics would react. I had no idea anything like this would happen, I swear!”

Sawyer read his face. He didn’t seem to be lying. He also noticed the door behind him.

“Could we leave through there?”

“Afraid not. I was chased by one of the deinonychus robots. The hall’s too narrow for us to dodge past it.”

“I told you there would be deinonychuses!” Alexis cheered, smirking at Sawyer.

“Well, I think I’d prefer it if they weren’t trying to kill us.” Sawyer snarled. “Can’t you ever shut up about your stupid dinosaur obsession?”

Alexis froze, and stepped backwards, looking frightened. In a moment, Sawyer realized he’d gone too far.

Mr Lowry, somewhat oblivious, continued. “No, I think the only way to get out of here is to deactivate the security system. I couldn’t open the main doors from my office, so I don’t think we can do it through any ordinary measures.”

“What do you suggest?” Sawyer asked, trying to move past his harsh response.

“Well, like I said earlier, Tyrone O’Saurus controls the dinos. Maybe if we could decommission him somehow, it could cause the security systems and robots to deactivate.”

Alexis, making a point to look away from Sawyer, spoke up. “Wait, Tyrone controls the security doors too?”

Mr Lowry sighed. “Yeah. Maybe these animatronics and the deal were fishy from the start.” He tried to brighten up. “Anyway, come on, it’s this way!”

“We know, it’s just the one path.” Sawyer commented.

“Sorry, it’s hard to turn off Tour Guide Mode.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The trio stood in front of the dinosaur, which glared down at them from its hill. It was unnerving- all of the other robots’ glint of intellect and malice in their eyes were a place shadow of Tyrone’s- its uncanny plastic orbs, once forced to scan the attraction for tourists, now laser-focused on its prey.

“Uh, what now?” Alexis asked nervously.

“Er- guess I didn’t think that far ahead.” Mr Lowry admitted sheepishly. He looked around, contemplating. “Aha!”

He pointed into a patch of undergrowth. “In there!”

Upon closer observation, Sawyer and Alexis could both see a concealed metal ladder.

“There’s some catwalks above for lights and stuff. Go up there; someone may have left something heavy. You could drop it and it would smash right through that stupid robot’s skull.”

“What about you?” Sawyer inquired, confused.

Only about twenty feet away, the sound of mechanical footfalls and rustling fauna could be heard. Mr Lowry rolled up his sleeves. “Tyrone’s calling his friends. I can hold them off, I used to box in college.”

“Did you box robot dinosaurs?”

“Nah, but how different could it be? Now go!”

The siblings didn’t need much more convincing. They skittered up the ladder, as a battle began below.

Garret started with one clean punch to the first deinonychus’ maw. He scratched his fist as he drove it in, but it resulted in a satisfying CRUNCH! The robot’s face, already partially gone from the attempted repairs, fully broke off, showing its skull deeply dented. It attempted to retaliate, swiping its claws at Garret’s head. Garret sidestepped it and tripped it, causing the reptilian robot to tumble to the ground.

The other bot ran at him, catching him a bit by surprise. It tackled him, taking him down to the ground. Its jaws rocketed towards his neck, ready to chomp on his jugular- and then stopped.

Garret was confused, but quickly snapped out of it, attempting to slide out from under its grasp. It still held firmly to him. After a moment of struggling, Garret heard a strange noise from inside its mouth. It was radio static, but it quickly dispersed, allowing him to hear a voice- the voice of Miss Armstrong.

“Hello, Garret. You shouldn’t be here.”

Garret gasped. “M-miss Armstrong? How?”

“We never needed you to survey results, Mr Lowry. Tyrone relays everything he sees to us, at all times. When we saw you poking your nose where it didn’t belong, we decided to speak with you directly. We have access to this place’s files, so communicating through the deinonychus’ speaker is rather simple.”

Any hope Garret had- that this was all some massive misunderstanding or coincidence, that his sponsor wasn’t just using him as part of some bizarre murder plot- melted away in an instant. “Why’d you stop the robot? Why not just kill me?” He said, trying not to sound dejected.

“You can still be useful to us, Mr Lowry. We never intended to keep the attraction’s true nature and purpose from you forever- that’d be a bit impossible.” Miss Armstrong laughed, amused. “We merely wanted to wait until we had something to show, to help you to understand why we were doing this.”

“Nothing is worth killing people like this!” Garret barked, angry.

“Some things very much are. But now the truth is out. So here’s your choice. We’ll take away our sponsorship. Everything we’ve given you- the building, the robots, all of it. We both know you’ll never be able to create anything a hundredth this impressive on your own, and who else would want to sponsor you? Stick with us, and you keep Cretaceous Land and gain more than you could dream of. Leave us, and be left with nothing.”

Garret was silent.

“Well?”

“Nah, go screw yourself.”

Garret reached up quickly and grabbed the robot’s head, smashing it against his knee. It stumbled backwards.

“You’ll regret this…” Miss Armstrong growled, her rage palpable even through the tinny speaker.

Without another word, Garret punched it in its mouth, cracking the speaker and silencing her. The deinonychus was still functioning, as was the one Garret had knocked down. Even now it climbed to its clawed feet. Garret raised his fists, ready for the battle to continue. As long as they couldn’t get to the ladder, the others could destroy Tyrone and stop Miss Armstrong.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What he didn’t remember, so caught up in the moment, is that there was catwalk access via the maintenance hallway…

“I didn’t mean it.” Sawyer protested as he scanned the catwalks. There didn’t appear to be anything heavy enough nearby to smash the T-Rex’s head in.

“You said my hobby is stupid.” Alexis muttered.

“First off, I called it an obsession, not a hobby, and rightfully so. If you hadn’t been so driven by having five more minutes in this place, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“But someone else would probably be. Maybe they wouldn’t have even made it this far.”

Sawyer couldn’t argue with that. “I guess. Maybe I went too far, this is just a stressful situation.”

“Or maybe it’s just more of you not caring about me!” Alexis yelled, angry. “I mean, I haven’t seen you since last summer! You’ve been too busy with Jessie and Mark and Lucas and everyone else at college. Why can’t you make time for me?”

“That’s just the way things are, Alexis. People grow apart. In a few years, I’m gonna have to get a job, get a house…I won’t be able to visit very often.”

Alexis looked down at her shoes. “I know.” She said quietly. “I want to enjoy it while I can.”

Sawyer was silent. What else was he supposed to say?

A snarl pierced the silence. Sawyer spun around to see a deinonychus charging out of a door connected to the catwalk, with its hungry eyes focused on his sister.

“Alexis!” Sawyer shouted. He ran in front of her, unsure of what to do but knowing he had to keep her safe. The robot opened its jaws and Sawyer grabbed them instinctually, holding them open. The sharp teeth dug into his palms, drawing blood.

Sawyer growled. “Enough!” With all his strength, he twisted his arms, sending the animatronic crashing into the railing. The railing didn’t hold, and the deinonychus tumbled off.

With the horrific sound of smashing metal and sparking electronics, the bot fell straight through the T-rex’s head, leaving an enormous hole. What remained of the skull crumbled to the ground in mechanical debris, which Mr Lowry below barely dodged. At the same time, the deinonychuses he’d been fighting fell to the floor, dormant, and the sound of angered roars from throughout the attraction faded as the robots returned to their regular mode.

“Sawyer!” Alexis cried, grabbing his shoulder. “Are your hands ok?”

Sawyer looked down at his hands in a daze. They were more cut up than he’d thought- he could see exposed tissue, and they continued bleeding.

“N-no…” Sawyer stuttered, falling to his knees. “We need some kind of bandage.”

“Oh, geez…” Alexis whispered. “Wait, I know!” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the blindfold.

She grabbed Sawyer's wrist. “This might sting, but it’ll stop the bleeding for now.”

Sawyer braced himself for what he was certain would be a rather clumsy job, but to his surprise Alexis delicately wrapped the cloth around his hand, with careful precision. By the time she was done, the makeshift compression bandage held tightly to his hand. It still hurt, but Sawyer could tell the bleeding was slowing.

“How did you do that?” Sawyer asked, bewildered.

“I took a first aid course over the spring. They taught us how to properly bandage wounds.”

“I didn’t know you were into that stuff.”

“Well, yeah. I want to be a doctor when I grow up.”

“Huh.” Sawyer considered this. “You know, maybe you’re right. I probably should be more involved with your life. I’m sorry I've been kind of dismissive of you.”

Alexis stared, surprised. “Th-thanks, big bro. Now, we should probably get you to a doctor. You probably shouldn’t be driving in with your hand in that condition, so let’s ask Mr Lowry for a ride.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They asked and he provided, his pickup truck pulling up in front of Glendale Hospital.

“Alright, guys. Here you go.”

“Thanks, Mr Lowry.” Sawyer said as he hopped out.

“No problem, and please, call me Garret. If anything can get people on a first-name basis, it’s fighting robot dinosaurs.” He sighed, a tired look on his face. “I’m sorry your only trip to Cretaceous Land ended so poorly.”

“Wait, what do you mean by only?” Alexis asked.

“It’s closing.”

“Garret, you don’t have to do that.” Sawyer proclaimed. “Look, as long as you promise to make the bots safer, we won’t tell anyone what happened.”

“The bots will never be safe.” Garret grumbled sadly. “And besides, it’s out of my hands.”

Sawyer and Alexis exchanged a glance, then Alexis spoke up. “Well…thanks Garret. For what it’s worth, I did like Cretaceous Land.”

“Nice to hear.” Garret gave a small smile. “Good luck with your hand.”

“And good luck with whatever comes next for you.” Sawyer said encouragingly.

Garret nodded, then drove off. His truck pulled out of the lot, and out of sight.

“Anyway, does super-strong big brother need help getting inside?” Alexis teased.

“Not really. But I am glad you’re here with me.”

The siblings walked into the hospital, side by side.

A FEW DAYS LATER

As the workers loaded everything onto their truck, Garret couldn’t help but feel unsure. Was he happy these dangerous animatronics were being taken far away from his city (and hopeful away from the public), or was he heartbroken that his dream was ruined?

Probably both, but Garret was lifted slightly by what Sawyer had said- Good luck with whatever comes next. He was already thinking of some ideas for what he could put his talents to. He wouldn’t be able to create anything a tenth as impressive as Cretaceous Land, but at least he would truly be the one creating it.

Ultimately, what bugged him most was Miss Armstrong. Her plans with his attraction had been thwarted, but what else was she planning?

Suddenly, he realized- why not call Fazbear Entertainment and report her?

It was so obvious, he immediately felt stupid for not thinking of it earlier. The company was trying to rebuild its reputation- surely if he reported a sinister conspiracy lurking within itself, the higher-ups would do something.

He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed the number for- well, he wasn’t exactly sure who to call in this situation. Eventually he just settled on customer service.

“Hello?”

“Hi, my name’s Garret, uh, Garret Lowry. I’m calling to report one of your employees for something.”

“Alright, what pizzeria location?”

“No, not like that. She’s some sort of sponsorship-giving-person, or some kind of boss…” Garret couldn’t quite describe it.

“Ok, do you have this…boss’s name?”

“Her last name is Armstrong. She’s a Miss, if that helps.”

There were a few moments of silence.

“Well, Mr Lowry, I’m sorry, but there aren’t any female employees named Armstrong in our database. None in any sort of major managerial position, at least.”

“What?! Come on, she gave my attraction technology, surely that must sound familiar.”

“You’re completely right actually. Any sponsorships involving the distribution of any sort of company tech would be a big deal, but I haven’t heard anything like that. The system would have to be actively hiding this stuff for there not to be any records. I’m sorry, Mr Lowry, but there’s nothing else I can help you with. Goodbye.”

“But-” The line went dead before Garret could get another word out. Not only that, but he realized the truck had driven off- another possible lead to what was going on, solved.

Garret groaned. “Guess you get away with it, Armstrong.” Without another word, he traipsed into his office to retrieve his belongings.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #anthology #fazbear frights #horror #dinosaur #tyrannosaurus rex #robot dinosaur #deinonychus

1 note · View note

bekoobove · 9 months

Text

Fazbear Fears #18: At Sea

…Kate finally has a chance to achieve her dream of sailing around the world, but is she as alone on her small boat as she thinks?...

Fritz had to be fast.

Ten steps, then nine steps, then eight…

The man in the golden bunny costume was delicately moving his knife towards Cassidy’s throat, as if he wanted to savor the moment.

Seven steps, six…

Cassidy had struggled and kicked, trying to free herself from the man’s gloved grasp. At this moment, though, she had frozen. Her eyes glistened with tears, and Fritz could see her accepting her fate.

Five, four…

He might be able to crash into the man’s leg, causing him to fumble his strike. Maybe in his shock, he’d drop Cassidy and the two of them could escape. Warn Jeremy and everyone else in the pizzeria.

Three, two…

Gabriel’s and Susie’s lifeless eyes stared at him from across the room, from their position propped in an imitation of a birthday party. Fritz knew: he couldn’t lose another friend.

And then he did.

Knife met neck, and a nightmarish spurt of red exploded out. Cassidy fell fully limp. The man dropped her, her body hitting the ground with a fleshy squish.

One, zero.

Fritz slammed into the man, screaming and punching. “YOU MONSTER! YOU’RE EVIL!”

With ease, the man grabbed him by the shirt collar and hoisted him upwards. A grin flashed across his face, filled with the same insane glee that flooded his dark eyes.

“Perhaps I am. And I bet you fancy yourself the hero, don’t you? You look to be the oldest of your little group.” Fritz tried to avert his eyes, but the man gripped his face by the chin and forced him to stare face to face. “Well, it looks like our little powerful protector failed.”

He stomped on Cassidy’s stomach, crushing her ribs. A sickening crunch sounded from her beaten form.

He looked down at the body chuckled, clearly enjoying this.

Pure, complete rage consumed Fritz’s entire being. As the man looked back to face him, Fritz punched him in the face, harder than he’d thought possible.

The man, rather pathetically, howled in pain and recoiled. He managed to keep his grip on Fritz, though, and drove the knife straight into his stomach.

Fritz gasped as he choked up blood. He was dying.

The man glared at him, with anger, as Fritz was the one who’d stabbed him.

“You insolent child…” He growled. “I promise you, you’ll always suffer more than the others. No matter what it takes, even if I have to do it myself, you’ll be broken forever. You’ll never be fully fixed, you’ll be forbidden from interacting with children, and you’ll never be freed!”

Fritz had no idea what the man met.

He would soon find out.

FORTY-ODD YEARS LATER

Sweat dripped down Kate’s brow. She tried to shade her face from the sun with one hand as she turned the crank with the other.

“Come on, come on…” she begged as the net rose up from the salty waters. Her hopes were in vain, though, as only some seaweed had been caught within its webbing.

“Damn it.” She grunted, too exhausted to even yell. “I’m so far out, you think I'd catch at least a few fish.”

Kate leaned up against the railing, then recoiled as her skin touched the hot metal. She sighed, and sat down on the steps.

The silence quickly became deafening. Here she was, alone, on a small fishing boat, at least fifty nautical miles from any port. The only sounds were the subtle white noise of the sea, which combined with the heat only made her sleepy.

Yep, all in all it was one of those days that made her wonder why she’d thought sailing around the world was a good idea.

It’d been her dream since childhood. Every story, every show about the ocean she’d heard or watched had made the place seem like one of constant adventure and excitement. Not to mention getting to visit all those countries, fantastic lands that would at least prove more interesting than her home state of Nebraska. Besides, she wasn’t leaving much behind. Her relationship with her family had always been tenuous at best. Kate also just didn’t have that many friends. Except for…

Kate ignored that thought. Yep, no friends at all.

Obviously no small boat could traverse across the oceans, but it could follow the coast. Kate had been doing just that along the American continents, staying a few dozen nautical miles offshore.

It hadn’t gone exactly how Kate had expected. Despite her somewhat antisocial nature, the parts she’d enjoyed the most were interacting with the different people of the states and countries she docked at. Even picking up supplies was a delight, just getting to experience the other cultures. Ironically, she had begun dreading her time at sea. It was boring, it was exhausting, and it was lonely.

Now boiling, Kate decided to head to her slightly cooler cabin. It wasn’t a room, more of a crawl space with a lumpy bed, some worn old books, clothing, and a few mementos from home.

Among the photos and little artifacts from her past, one item would stand out to anyone looking: a large, metallic hook. The hook’s original source was even stranger: it had spent a decade screwed to the end of an animatronic fox’s arm.

That’s right, Kate had gotten her hands on the hook of an actual Foxy. How could she not? While Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza had closed half a decade before she was even born, she’d still read old comics, watched the cartoons, and even collected some old merchandise. All of the band members were lovable, but Foxy was by far her favorite. Heck, his stories of tales on the high seas were one of the reasons this had been her dream. Thus, this hook she’d stumbled upon at a thrift store seemed like the perfect good-luck charm.

“Not working too well in that department, though.” Kate grumbled. She laid down on the bed.

“Just gonna…take a short nap.” Kate affirmed. Despite the uncomfortable firmness of the mattress, she quickly sunk into it, the world around her fading away…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kate opened her eyes, just barely, and caught sight of her alarm clock. She gasped as she sat upwards and grabbed it.

“9:30 PM!” She growled. “I slept the whole day away!”

She was worried. The waters had been calm when she’d fallen asleep, but even that would have been enough to send her boat hundreds of miles away from the mainland.

“Gotta get to the controls…” She moved to grab the door.

THUNK!

Kate pulled her hand away, confused. That noise, it sounded like…

THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!

Heavy metallic footsteps? They were moving, so they had to be.

‘But that’s impossible.’ Kate thought, staying as silent as possible. ‘Unless it’s some kind of coast guard who came to rescue me?’

The notion filled her with hope, illogical as it was. It was quickly shot down by another sound from above- what sounded like a child crying.

A chill went down Kate’s spine. This had to be a dream, right?

The steps had circled around the entire boat, and was just in front of the door. They stopped. There was a moment of silence, and then a scraping noise, right from the door.

Kate screamed. This thing was trying to break the door down!

The entity paused, startled a bit by her scream, but then began banging and scraping more voraciously. As if it wasn’t clear already, this thing wanted to get to her. And Kate suspected its intentions were hardly peaceful.

Cracks were forming in the beaten door. Through them, Kate could make out a reddish body and the metal blade it scraped against the door.

Finally, Kate shook off her fear. In one swift motion, she slammed the door open with all her might.

The entity stumbled backwards, and crashed against the back railing of the boat. It clearly hadn’t expected her to fight back.

For the first time, Kate had a clear view of it. Thing is, it wasn’t as alien or unfamiliar as she’d thought.

It was a Foxy animatronic.

But not one that any sane pizzeria would have hosted for storytime.

It was in terrible condition. Its legs had been completely stripped, leaving only endoskeleton limbs with large metal feet. There were slits all over its stomach and arms that exposed more of the decayed machinery that lay below. But this thing’s disfigured appearance went far beyond damage. Its hook, already a little sharp for comfort on the ordinary models, was now a jagged, curved blade with dark stains on it. Its mouth was filled with needle-like teeth, some of them a dull gold. The worst part was its uncovered eye- a yellow, glowing orb webbed with pulsating black veins.

The eye was focusing on her, Kate realized. It was about to lunge for her.

But just as the beast was about to leap, there was an earsplitting creak. It suddenly looked concerned, and it fell backwards into the ocean, the railing having given way to its impact.

Kate was still shaken, but she didn’t let that stop her. She raced up to the controls, and put the engine on full throttle. The boat puttered away quickly, leaving the dark Foxy to sink.

Kate sighed with relief once she’d gotten a few hundred yards away. “What was that thing?” She asked incredulously.

“Oh…uh, yeah, that might be my bad.”

Kate turned, startled, which was happening a lot tonight.

Standing there sheepishly was a pale boy with freckles, no older than ten. He wore a shirt which had a cartoon Foxy’s smiling face on it. But there was something wrong with him. Whatever colors he should have been were washed out into shades of gray. On his cheeks there were thick, oily streaks that formed a line from his eyes. Oh, and he was translucent.

Kate couldn’t even muster another scream, instead just staring slack-jawed at the ghost boy before her. “Who are you?” She demanded.

The kid flinched, then composed himself. “Well, I’m Fritz, Fritz Meyer. And, er…I think you’re supposed to help me.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, do you understand now?” Fritz asked, his long-winded explanation coming to an end.

Kate stared. “So, you’re a ghost…possessing an animatronic fox…”

“I was possessing it.”

“Yeah, sure. A couple of months ago, you stopped possessing the fox, and because I have its old hook or whatever it’s now my job to help you move on to heaven?”

“So you do get it!” Fritz cheered.

“I mean, I get that there must be some kind of toxic gas bubbling up from the water that’s causing me to hallucinate, but sure, let’s play along for now.”

Irritated, Fritz stomped. “Look, I know it’s confusing, but me, the dark Foxy, and that hook are linked. You found the hook, so now you have to help me.”

“Ok, you said that two of your friends did this or whatever. How’d they move on?”

Fritz looked pensieve. “I don’t have all the details…but Susie communicated with her living sister and got the chance to say goodbye. Jeremy met someone who helped him come to peace with his regrets about his father.”

“Alright, what relative do you need to talk to or whatever? I could try contacting them at the next port…if we get there.” Kate sighed, fiddling with the navigation equipment.

“I don’t think that’s it.” Fritz said. “I think it’s different for me.”

“Well, what’s eating you then?”

Fritz was silent. His form wavered, as if whatever he was thinking of literally tormented his soul. Finally he answered.

“Years ago, when we were first killed, I had the chance to save my friend. I tried to tackle the murderer, but I just couldn’t go fast enough. He killed her, then me. I’ve spent decades since then knowing I could’ve done something, but failed.”

Kate returned his initial silence. Her mind was racing. This had to be some coincidence, right? Or was it destiny? Was the universe coaxing her, imploring her, to forgive-

No. Kate had only started believing in ghosts about five minutes ago. She wasn’t going to buy into the idea that this was some sort of cosmic therapy for each of them. So she gave as stereotypical and flat an answer as possible.

“It- it wasn’t your fault. You were just a kid. It was this killer guy who’s to blame. Don’t feel guilty.”

Kate forced a smile and stared at him, waiting for his body to turn into sparkles of light that would ascend to a better place.

Nothing happened. “Uh…thanks.” he answered.

Kate sighed. “Was that not heartfelt enough? Look, you know it’s true.”

Fritz frowned. “I get it. Occasionally I'd talk to the others about it, and they’d all say the same thing. But there has to be something special about you that can help me truly come to peace with it.”

Kate hesitated, but ultimately chose denial. “No, kid. I’m sorry, but I’m just…Kate. I don’t see how I could help you.”

Fritz’s face fully fell. “So I just have to spend forever being hunted by Foxy?”

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually. Besides, thanks to your’s truly, that gross old robot ghost is at the bottom of the ocean. You won’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“No.” Fritz said sadly. “No matter how far away I get, it finds me. It always does.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. See, it sunk right…”

Kate stopped mid-point. To her horror, a rotten, reddish shape was moving through the water, towards the boat. Its yellow eye cast a beam, like a lighthouse, over the dark sea between them. It was, ironically, doggy-paddling over at an alarming rate.

She gulped. “Um, maybe let’s gain some distance on this thing.”

“Agreed.”

Kate set the boat on full throttle, and they again left the fox in their wake.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kate had no plans of stopping until they got to land. Even if no one else could see Fritz or the monster (which, according to the former, was the case), they’d have more room to run. Maybe they could explore some alternate ways to free Fritz, and Kate could move on with her life.

But that didn’t go as planned. After journeying all through the night, praying for her boat to endure, Kate heard the noise she’d been dreading- a sputter from the engine.

“No!” she yelled, as the vessel slowed. “We’re out of gas.”

Fritz groaned. “So we’re stuck?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I was supposed to refuel when I docked today. That, like many things in my life, didn’t go as planned.”

“We have to do something!” Fritz protested. “We’re sitting ducks out here.”

“I’m trying to contact the Coast Guard.” Kate promised as she fiddled with the dials on her VHF radio. “But I’m not getting any signal.”

Seeing how distraught he seemed, Kate attempted to distract him. “Look, I have some books in my cabin there. While I try to figure something out, how about you see if any of them interest you. I’ll keep watch, too.”

Fritz perked up slightly at this. “Well…ok.” He dashed into the cramped room.

A few minutes passed as Kate frantically tried everything and accomplished nothing. It was amazing what being hunted by a predatory, ghostly animatronic that never rested or stopped could do for your work ethic.

From behind her, she suddenly heard a cry. Kate swiveled, expecting to see the oversized, decayed fox holding its hook to Fritz’s neck.

Instead, she saw the ghostly boy running towards her excitedly, his scream one of excitement. He pointed into the cabin. “You like Treasure Island?”

“Uh, yeah.” Kate responded. “Do you?”

“Well, yeah! I mean, there’s pirates. I love pirates! And the buried treasure, the adventures, everything! None of my other friends liked the book very much, so I never got to talk about it! Who’s your favorite character; mine’s Ben Gunn!”

Kate was a little annoyed, but at the same time she couldn’t help but smile. “Easy. Jim Hawkins. I always wanted to be him, hunting for treasure and sparring with pirates. One of the biggest things that made me want to try a life at sea.”

She coughed. “Uh…is that why you possessed Foxy? Cause you like pirates?”

Fritz averted his eyes, uncomfortable. “No…Foxy was my favorite, and I was wearing a shirt with him. I guess that’s why I was put in Foxy.”

“The murderer stuffed you in the animatronic?”

“No.” He clarified. “It was someone else.”

His expression made it clear he had had enough of this, so Kate quickly changed the subject. “I never saw Foxy at a pizzeria, but he was always my favorite too.”

Fritz perked up a little as he giggled. “Guess we just both like ocean stuff, right?”

The next hour was spent discussing their favorites in that category. Both of them discussed their love for 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, Jaws, and Moby Dick (the movies and the books). Kate occasionally interjected with some of her favorite movies that were past Fritz’s time like The Small Siren, Finding Meno, and Privateers of the Atlantic. Fritz seemed both intrigued and saddened. Kate understood why- if he had lived, he could have seen these movies, maybe with kids of his own. The full weight of his tragedy was really starting to hit her. The idea of a murderer, killing children and mocking them as they died, sickened her.

She thought it over. What if this was meant to be? What if, to help Fritz, she had to talk about-

Kate ignored the increasingly nagging thought. She wanted to free Fritz, but there had to be another way.

Eventually, Fritz asked, “Do you have any other pirate books?”

“Yeah.” She gestured into the cabin. “Go nuts.”

Kate returned to her work, for a brief time. Fritz quickly reemerged.

“What’d you find?”

“Who’s this?” He asked. In his hand he held a photo, a bit torn. It showed two teen girls, grinning at the camera as a movie played in the background. There were also some fancy dresses lying crumpled on the floor. The words: Kate Connors and Brianna Moore, BFFS! Was scrawled in sharpie across the image.

Kate paled. “Don’t- don’t look at that. It’s private.” She snatched the picture from his hand.

“I’ll say. It was stuffed behind some books on your shelf. Why was it hidden there?”

For Kate, the real question was why she’d brought it at all. After everything, she wanted to throw it away, but couldn’t quite bring herself to.

“Wait a minute.” Kate whispered. “How could you touch it? You’re a ghost.”

“I know.” Fritz answered. “That's why I’m asking about it. Maybe it’s meant to help me move on.”

Kate sighed deeply. Well, no more denying or running from the truth. Somehow, talking about Brianna would help Fritz, and as painful as it was, she wanted to do that.

“Brianna was…a friend. My best friend, really. We always stuck by each other no matter what. That picture’s from prom night. Both our dates dumped us at the last minute, so we stayed up all night binging the Privateers of the Atlantic series. We both loved that stuff- it’s kind of why I’ve always dreamed of sailing around the world. We wanted to do it together.”

Fritz frowned. “Then why isn’t she here?”

“About…about six months ago, me and her went on a canoe trip down the Missouri River. But we weren’t alone. My younger brother, Leo, came with us.

One evening, while we were on the water, there was a storm. Leo and Brianna were talking about some show they both liked, so they were in a separate canoe from me. The river quickly turned violent, and we hit a rocky area too. My canoe was washed ashore, but theirs was capsized. Brianna eventually made it back to land. Leo didn’t.”

“Oh.” Fritz said quietly. “But that doesn’t explain why she's not here.”

“Why?!” Kate exploded. “She could have saved him! She was on the swim team, she was strong and had great endurance! Maybe if she had been better, Leo would be alive.

She claims she tried to help. I’m not even sure if I believe that. We had already bought the boat and planned to leave a month later. I took it a few days early and never looked back.

“So there.” Kate proclaimed with finality. “That’s why.”

Fritz was quivering. At first, Kate thought it was simply because she’d snapped at him too harshly, which already made her feel guilty. But then he spoke.

“Was I…was I like her? I should have saved Cassidy, but I didn’t.”

Kate gasped. “No, of course not!”

“Why? What difference was there?”

“You were just a kid. You were scared.”

“Brianna is just a teenager! It’s amazing she made it out alive!”

“I…guess. But still, that has nothing to do with you.”

“Why not?” Fritz fell to his knees, as gray, ghostly tears poured out of his eyes. “Maybe you weren’t supposed to help me move on. Maybe…maybe you were supposed to help me realize I don’t deserve to.”

Kate was stunned. Was that true? Had Kate been a pawn in some cosmic game to leave an innocent child guilt-ridden for eternity? She tried to compose herself, closing her eyes as she thought fast, searching for some magic words that would restore Fritz’s hope. She failed to find them.

And when she opened her eyes again, the boy was nowhere to be seen.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ocean had never seemed more empty, more cold.

Kate remained adrift, floating aimlessly through the night.

She sat, on the boat’s stern, staring into the starry sky. It wasn’t too different from the sky she’d been looking up at when she awoke on the coarse sandy banks of the Missouri River, next to her run-aground canoe. Brianna had been standing over her, her clothes soaked, tears in her eyes, as well as a glint of relief at seeing her awake. It took Kate moments to figure out what had happened.

It took only moments more for Kate to understand that Brianna wasn’t to blame.

It hadn’t been here, on the boat- none of Fritz’s innocent questions or guilty reactions. No, Kate had realized right there, on the shore, that Leo’s death wasn’t on her friend’s hands.

But that hadn’t mattered. She ignored that fact and began screaming, berating Brianna for her essentially nonexistent failure. Kate just remembered feeling so broken, so in denial- she had channeled her grief into red-hot anger, which she in turn took out on Brianna.

Brianna had called 911, so the paramedics arrived shortly after. Kate just remembered yelling at her, even as the responders checked her for any serious injuries. Eventually, her exhaustion overtook her, and she passed out again.

When she’d awoken in the hospital, mostly recovered, she instantly knew she had to do something, say sorry. But she couldn’t bring herself to face her. As she’d told Fritz, she’d stolen the boat to get away from Brianna, but not because the latter was guilty of any crime- because Kate herself felt bad for what she’d done. Even talking with him she’d tried to put up her defense of blaming Brianna- and it had caused him to disappear.

Kate put her head in her hands and began to cry. Her rage, her grief, had hurt someone else. And just like before, she was alone, on her small boat, in an ocean of isolation.

But not for long.

Kate heard splashes off the starboard bow and saw the sickly yellow spotlight growing closer and closer. Dark Foxy, the persistent predator, had finally caught up with her.

She could barely even bring herself to react as its rusty hook caught onto the railing, and hoisted the rest of its horrifying body onto the deck. Its hulking form approached her, with a malicious glint in its eye.

Kate didn’t move. After everything- the loss, the loneliness, the guilt- why keep going?

But then, she remembered what Fritz had talked about earlier. This Foxy, horrific as it was, was part of him. She didn't know where Fritz was now, but maybe she could get through to him.

“Fritz…” she said quietly, standing up shakily. The monster paused, scanning her for any kind of weapon. At least that’s what it looked like; Kate wasn’t sure what weapon it would be afraid of.

“Look, Fritz. You were right. It wasn’t Brianna’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Sometimes in life, bad things…and bad people…just happen. But Brianna isn’t one of them, and neither are you. Please, you deserve to move on.”

Foxy stared, then gave a guttural laugh, echoing through its withered throat. It raised its hook, which glinted in the moonlight.

“You’re the part of Fritz who feels like you don’t deserve to move on, aren’t you?” Kate asked quickly.

Foxy froze again, but this time not out of wariness, but shock. It was like Kate’s simple question had pierced it through its very core.

“You deserve it, Fritz. You shouldn’t blame yourself. And if anyone thinks you should…” Kate sighed, that last memory on the shores haunting her, “They’re in the wrong.”

The robotic specter stumbled backwards, clutching its fuzzy head, trying to come to terms with what had just been said.

Kate took a step back, worried it may react violently in its conflict.

But then, she tripped.

She stumbled backwards, trying to regain her balance- and fell right off, through the broken railing on the back.

It happened in only a moment, but it felt like much longer. She was able to see light reflecting off the ocean’s surface as the sun peeked over the horizon in the distance. She was able to see a gray figure begin fading into existence a few feet away from her. And, she was able to see Foxy’s eye widen as he watched her fall.

Her whole body seized up as she plunged into the freezing waters of the Atlantic.

She struggled for a few moments as the surface grew further and further, but she was so exhausted, physically and emotionally. The water wasn’t helping- the cold sapping heat from her body.

Most of all, though, she still wasn’t even sure if she wanted to survive. Why not let the ocean claim her?

NO. The thought echoed through her mind. She wasn’t going to give up. She was going to make it through this, make sure Fritz could move on, and apologize to Brianna. No matter what, she would endure.

But by this time, she was thirty meters below the surface and still sinking. She realized it was a lost cause.

The salt water stung her eyes, so she closed them. Just as she did, though, she saw a dark shadow moving towards her from above.

‘Must be…hallucinating.’ Kate thought, as she accepted her doom. She waited for the cold embrace of death.

But instead, she felt the embrace of two skinny but firm arms. A hook wrapped around her wrist, keeping a tight grip on her.

She opened her eyes again, and saw the snouted face of Foxy smiling as they rose upwards through the water.

They surfaced, and Kate gasped for air. With what little strength she had left, she grabbed the boat and hauled herself onto it. Foxy helped her up, then did the same.

Kate coughed up water. “I…wha…” She got a better look at Foxy.

This was the Foxy she’d grown up loving. He was in near-perfect condition, and he’d gotten his blue long coat and jaunty hat back. He truly looked like any second he was going to invite her to gather closer for a tale of adventure from the high seas.

From behind him, Fritz stepped out. “You’re ok!”

“Fritz!” Kate marveled.. “You’re back.”

“I never really left.” Fritz admitted sheepishly. “I just…wanted to stop talking so badly that I guess I stopped being visible to you.”

As Kate tried to wring out her hair, she looked down, ashamed. “Fritz, you were right all along. Leo’s death was no more Brianna’s fault than Cassidy’s death was yours. Which is to say, not at all.”

“It’s ok.” Fritz put his spectral hand on Kate’s. Though still intangible, it felt a little warmer than it had before. “I could feel your emotions, sort of. I couldn’t get everything, but I could tell you were going through a lot of pain.”

“That’s no excuse.” Kate sighed.

“Trust me, I know what it’s like to be controlled by your worst thoughts and emotions. That’s kind of what this guy was.” He pointed at Foxy.

“He’s better now.” Kate commented, unsure of what else to say.

“Thanks to you.”

“Well, you- or it, but I’m guessing you told it to- saved me. I’m the one who should be thankful.”

Something caught Kate’s eye. Only about a mile off in the distance, she saw it. Land.

“I must have gotten closer than I thought!” Kate realized victoriously. “I can use a flare to signal for help!”

She turned back towards Fritz. “So, what about you?”

Foxy offered Fritz his hook, who gripped it tightly in his hand. “Time to move on, I suppose.” The latter said.

Kate gave one last smile. “Safe voyage, little guy. And, one more time, thank you.”

Fritz and Foxy turned, and climbed off of the boat. They didn’t sink, though: their feet planted firmly on the surface of the water. They began to walk off, into the sunrise, as steadily as if they were trodding on solid ground. Once they got about thirty feet away, the sun grew even brighter for just a moment. Kate was forced to blink, and when she opened her eyes, they were gone.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The flare gun rested in a storage space near the wheel. Kate had never had use for it before, so a fine layer of dust coated the smooth red plastic. She blew it off, and inserted a flare.

As she walked towards the back, Kate thought about Brianna. Where was she? Was she still in their hometown? Had she purchased her own boat for her own adventure? Had she settled for a cross-country road trip?

Kate wasn’t even close to answering any of these questions. It was possible no matter how hard she searched, she’d never find Brianna. But she would try. And she would apologize. Whether that would lead to a repaired friendship was yet another maybe.

Still, Kate had hope.

She decided this was a good spot. She aimed the pistol straight upwards, focused, and pulled the trigger.

A crimson-white ball of fire shot up into the heavens, visible for miles. It joined the sun in heralding a new day.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #horror #fazbear frights #anthology #foxy fnaf #missing children's incident #cw: gore

1 note · View note

bekoobove · 9 months

Text

FNAF Ruin fixed a problem with the (Spoiler Character)

It's safe to say that the Mimic has been a divisive character. Many have rightfully criticized it being confined primarily to the books, and while it got an awesome design and reveal in its Ruin debut, people have justifiably pointed out the casual player would have no idea what it was or its significance in general. With that said, its part in Ruin did address one complaint that was targeted at the narrative of the Mimic, rather than its presentation- it just being Afton again.

I never particularly saw this as a problem- heck, I made a whole post about what makes the Mimic different from Afton, and how it reflects the themes of modern FNAF. Still, I do understand the criticism- much of what makes the Mimic unique is more thematic. If nothing else, its aesthetic is very similar, meaning that even once you know it's not Afton, it often feels like it is. If all it's going to be is Afton 2.0, what's the point?

Well, it isn't anymore. As of Ruin, the Mimic has shed the Afton/Glitchtrap/Burntrap identity, and taken on a new one- that of Gregory.

You may be thinking, "Well, of course. It pretends to be Gregory to lure us into freeing it." However, its Gregory act goes far deeper. This is proven by the (most likely) non-canon Scooper ending. As I'm sure you know, in this ending the Mimic wears a mascot suit cobbled together from several different costumes. It's a creepy design, but a confusing one. Why did the Mimic go to the trouble of making it?

All praise goes to @lemfern on Twitter for realizing the costume isn't just an random amalgamation- it's a crude representation of Gregory.

This implies the Mimic isn't just pretending to be Gregory in order to fool us. After watching Gregory conquer every threat, defeat everything it had created under its Afton identity, it decided to incorporate him as a new one.

And this is why Ruin improves the Mimic. In future installments, whenever we encounter the Mimic, it will learn from us. If we defeat it once, it will incorporate our identity, maybe even our strategies, into its programming to use next time. Afton was stuck in the past, so willing to blindly follow his own habits he walked head-first into a trap. The Mimic, on the other hand, is always changing, evolving, becoming more- becoming us.

Thanks for reading!

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #tales from the pizzaplex #the mimic #mimic fnaf #fnaf ruin #fnaf theory #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #sb ruin #fnaf gregory #william afton

20 notes · View notes

bekoobove · 9 months

Text

FNAF Ruin Theory: The ending was a trick...but not by who you think! (Spoilers)

I am sick and tired of this Gregory slander. The poor kid just did what he had to, no matter the cost...of course, I'm referring to his actions in the base game. I don't have to justify anything he did in the DLC, particularly any elevator-related shenanigans, because that wasn't Gregory. That's obviously been a popular theory, with most people guessing the Mimic interrupted Gregory's communication and crashed the elevator. But that's not true either. The truth is, Gregory never contacted us at all, and the Mimic was not the second Gregory. Who was it, then?

It was the one other individual in the basement with us.

It was the one individual who's been trying to kill us all game.

It was the one individual who would do anything to keep the Mimic trapped.

The M.X.E.S. system. Shut down, cut off from all its usual methods- guarding the nodes, deploying animatronics- it faked a communication from Gregory. It's spent so long in the Pizzaplex systems, it would have more than enough footage of Gregory to cobble together a fake communication if it needed to. With the Mimic freed from its concrete prison, it needed to crash its only way out- the elevator. That's why it led Cassie to it, rather than just allowing the Mimic to kill her. It may not have been able to raise the elevator on its own, but perhaps it had just enough power over the Pizzaplex systems to cause a malfunction?

Technically, this could apply to Gregory. He might use the same logic my M.X.E.S. does in this theory- using Cassie to crash the elevator. However, there's one key detail- Gregory's timing is far too convenient. He contacts us soon as M.X.E.S. is sealed away, and the Mimic is freed. And really, what are the odds his signal could reach so far underground, especially so clearly?

The best part about this is what it sets up. The classic story of FNAF is the malevolent animatronic versus the courageous security guard doing everything to contain them. Cassie, the real Gregory (once he inevitably arrives to save her), and their animatronic allies are caught in the middle of the battle between the Mimic and M.X.E.S., pawns in their game...

#fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf ruin #fnaf gregory #five nights at freddy's #gregory didn't betray us #the mimic #m.x.e.s.

33 notes · View notes

bekoobove · 9 months

Text

Fazbear Fears #17: Like A Friend

…When a popular student seems interested in befriending new kid Nick, it seems too good to be true…and it is...

“I’m sorry, what?” Nick asked nervously. He had to have misheard something, right?

He may have only attended Fremont High School for a couple of days, but he had already learned that David Cooper was the most popular kid in school. He was always surrounded by other cool kids, and everyone else wanted to join his posse. That raised the question: why was David inviting Nick, a decidedly uncool new kid, to come eat at his lunch table?

“Uh, I thought you might like to eat with us.” David repeated. “I always like to get to know new students when they arrive; I’ve made a lot of friends that way.”

Nick hesitated. He’d been pranked before, was this a similar trick? From what he’d seen, David wasn’t exactly the type to bully people, but maybe he’d be willing to mess with some fresh meat…

Ultimately it was an offer too good to turn down. “Uh, sure.” He picked up his lunch tray and followed David over.

It went much better than expected.

The other students were all nice, even the football players and cheerleaders (Nick had always found those two groups the hardest to deal with). He wondered if it had something to do with David. Did he really hold enough respect among his friends to keep all of them from being even slightly mean?

Apparently so. In this mixed group of pretty interesting people- athletes, goths, drama geeks, even a couple of other nerdy types- David was clearly the center of attention. Everyone laughed at his jokes, asked how things were going, made plans with him for the weekend…Nick wished he could have one tenth as many friends.

Still, with David being so weirdly supportive of him, maybe he would. Not right now, though. It might have just been him, but as nice as everyone was being, he felt like they were a little distant. Maybe it was just because he was new, but it seemed like something else. Almost like they thought he wasn’t ready or something.

Regardless, Nick enjoyed his lunch with the group. Even if no friendship was set in stone, he’d been given a chance.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was during study hall the following day that the other shoe dropped. But to be honest it wasn’t quite as heavy a shoe as Nick had feared.

David sat down next to Nick as he worked on an assignment. “Hey, there, Nick, could we talk?”

“Uh, yeah. About what?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to see something cool.”

Nick frowned. “Do you have it with you?”

David laughed. “That’d be a little tough. See, in the forest, there’s this abandoned robotics factory. It’s really cool; there’s still a bunch of old parts and robots. Guess it got shut down pretty quick.”

“Why is it in the forest?”

“No one knows for sure. Maybe to avoid vandals- though you’ll hear a lot of stories about dark experiments that went on there. Haven’t seen anything to suggest that myself, but you never know.”

“That sounds cool!” Nick exclaimed. He’d always been interested in abandoned buildings. There was something so intriguing about enormous concrete structures, overgrown on the outside and utterly empty on the inside. He also liked robots (though his experience was mainly with ones from movies). “So, after school?”

David hesitated. “Well, um, I actually prefer to go after dark. It’s more fun that way.”

Surprised, Nick protested. “Bu-but, my aunt won’t let me go out after 8 PM. And…” He stopped himself before he could admit the idea scared him.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be such a baby. I’ve shown this place off to all my friends, and they’re fine.”

This caught Nick’s attention. If he was interpreting this right, David was basically saying that he considered him a friend…or would, if he came. Even apart from that, he didn’t want to look like a coward.

“I live on Redwood Avenue, near the supermarket. Is the factory close to there?”

“Heck, yeah. Twenty minute walk- fifteen if we move quickly.”

“Alright.” Nick said, relieved. “Meet me right outside my front door at 9:30. My aunt will be asleep by then.”

“Cool.” David grinned. “See you then.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And he did, 9:30 PM on the dot.

“Geez.” David commented as Nick shut the door behind him. “You’re punctual.”

“I’ve always been good at keeping track of time.”

For just a moment, this seemed to affect David. There was a look in his eye, as if he was filing this tidbit away in case it would be on the final. Then the moment passed, and David laughed.

“Lucky you, I guess. I once was late to my own birthday party!”

Nick, curious, asked for more details. David told the story as they walked, a tale which involved a sudden craving for a cherry slushy, an extremely slow convenience store clerk, and an unexpected parade.

Eventually, the conversation turned to Nick, which he hadn’t expected. David asked him a lot of questions: Where did you move from? Got any pets? Favorite TV show? Again, Nick couldn’t help but feel like his answers were being analyzed and memorized.

Growing a bit uncomfortable, and wishing to know more as they entered the forest, Nick changed the subject. “So…you said there were rumors about weird experiments happening here. What were they?”

David thought this over. “Well, like I said, I don’t believe in them. But as the stories go, these robots were originally supposed to be, like, for restaurants or something. To entertain kids.”

Nick had heard of places like that, but they weren’t really around anymore. “Now I’m even more confused. How does that translate into dark experiments?”

“It’s a well known fact that one of the robot manufacturers was eccentric at best and crazy at worst. He’s even a suspect in some kidnapping cases. The big rumor is that he designed robots to carry out more crimes.”

Nick gasped.

“That’s the part where the story loses me. Like, how could some crappy pizzeria animatronic kill a kid?” David chuckled. “There are other stories- he experimented with what he thought was haunted metal, he invented small animatronics that could steal souls, and he was certain he’d found the key to immortality. But those are even less credible.”

Nick shivered. “He’s not still around is he?”

“He vanished, like, twenty years ago. Even if he’s alive, he’d be eighty-something. Not like he’d be patrolling the factory grounds.” David smiled and gestured forward. “Speaking of which…”

There it was, laid out before them. The mysterious factory.

It was a gray building, large but not enormous. From his view, Nick could see rusted metal girders protruding out of the crumbling structure. Tall windows with only a little broken glass still hanging onto the frames gave a look inside, revealing dusty converter belts and complicated machinery. He even swore he got a glimpse of a limp robotic arm just inside, but couldn’t be sure from here.

“Alright.” David called, bringing Nick back down to earth. The former was holding open a set of dirty double doors, beyond which stretched an industrial-looking hallway.

“Come on in.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yeah....Nick was regretting every decision in his life that had led him here.

As mentioned earlier, Nick liked exploring abandoned buildings, and he liked robots. He was somewhat less fond of exploring an abandoned building full of decaying robots in the middle of a dense, dark forest…at night.

There was so much more left here than he had expected. Dozens of simple robotic endoskeletons leaned against the wall, with arms identical to the one he had seen through the window. But time had taken its toll on them. They were covered in a crusty layer of rust. Wires hung out of many of their mouths and shoulders, especially those whose arms had fallen off. The metal, disembodied limbs littered the ground, and Nick swore he saw at least one twitch. Their eyes were like large marbles, glass spheres which reflected their flashlights’ beams but completely void of any life. And not like lifeless animatronic eyes should be- it brought to mind the milky eyes of a corpse. More eyes filled various containers along the assembly line. There were also boxes of arms, skeletal heads, wiring, and legs.

“Ok…” Nick pulled on David’s arm, who was purposefully walking ahead, as he gave a nervous laugh. He hoped his fear would go unnoticed. “Great place! Nice look at some weird local history. Maybe we could go and come back tomorrow…when it’s lighter out?”

David turned and raised an eyebrow. That analytical look again- and this it was more distinct. Nick didn’t feel like a celebrity being interviewed like earlier- much more like a test subject in some bizarre science experiment.

To his relief, though, David nodded. “Yeah, it’s been kind of a long day. I could use some sleep. But there is one more thing I want to show you. It’s just a little further in.”

Despite his best efforts, a flash of fear showed on Nick’s face. David seemed to notice this. “Hey, I could go ahead, if you want. Make sure everything’s ok.”

Nick sighed mentally. This wouldn’t be the best look, but…

“Sure.” He replied. “I’ll wait here.”

Without another word, David began making his way deeper into the factory, scanning the area in an exaggerated manner. Nick couldn’t help but feel mocked.

Eventually, the echoing sound of David’s firm footfalls on the stone floor faded off, and Nick was left alone.

In the dark.

Surrounded by dozens of rotting, shattered, skeletal robots.

Maybe he hadn’t thought this through.

The feeling of being watched quickly intensified. Nick decided no matter how creepy the rest of the factory was, it was better than just standing here by himself.

He quickly followed David’s footsteps. The factory’s layout wasn’t too confusing, being one main hallway lined with the entrances to offices and small storage rooms. Eventually, he heard David’s voice. It echoed from the large room at the end of the hall.

“Phew.” Nick muttered. He was about to call out to him- but then he heard what he was saying.

“Yeah…yeah. Don’t worry, it’s fine. He doesn’t suspect anything.”

Nick froze.

“No, he’s here. He just got nervous. I told him I’d scout ahead. I’ll call him to come in a minute. Everything will go off without a hitch.”

Nick groaned as quietly as he could. He’d been right all along! Everything- the lunch, the invitation to come here- it was all some weird, elaborate prank. All of David’s buddies were probably hiding, wearing some scary masks or something, ready to jump-scare gullible, stupid little Nick. Well, he’d show them! He’d go out there right now, and tell them to screw themselves.

Without another moment of hesitation, Nick confidently stepped out into the room. As he did, though, David, who hadn’t quite noticed him, said one more thing:

“Stop worrying, friend. You’ll hunt soon.”

Nick froze again, confused. What the heck did that mean?

But now David did notice. He quickly turned and gave a panicked, forced smile. “Oh, uh, Nick! You got over your fear! Good job, buddy!”

Nick narrowed his eyes, scanning the area for pranksters- or hunters? “What is this? What were you talking about? Fess up, David.”

“Of course, buddy…” David said, slowly walking towards him. “Don’t worry one bit…”

In a sudden move, he grabbed Nick by the arm with one hand and punched him in the stomach with the other. Nick yelled in pain and in the hope someone would hear him and help, unlikely as that was.

David began pushing him over towards the center of the room, where his one-sided conversation had been directed at. Only the room didn’t have a center- it had a pit.

The concrete floor had given way, revealing some kind of room about ten feet beneath this one. Nick couldn’t tell quite what it was, but it was filled with old, long-dormant computers and half-formed animatronics. Like the endoskeletons nearby, they were still. One robot, however, was a different story.

It was particularly strange for several other reasons. While all the others looked incomplete, this one looked damaged. But for some reason, even analyzing its look was a challenge. Its image flickered- one moment it looked like a vaguely wolf-like animatronic with whitish-blue plastic coating, the next it looked like a real, organic wolf with darting white eyes, a mouthful of yellowish teeth, thick gray fur, and exposed flesh wherever the damage was worst.

There was a lot of exposed flesh.

It had no legs, being little more than a torso. On one hand, it appeared to be missing some of its claws. When it was in its more robotic form, Nick could see it was missing an ear and an eye. But there was no mistaking it for anything but alive, able, and angry.

Somehow, that wasn’t even the worst part.

It was surrounded by rotting bodies- some that only looked weeks old, others that were nothing more than stained skeletons. But the real worst part of this whole awful situation was that some of the more intact corpses looked familiar.

Their faces matched that of David’s friends.

Finally, David let go of Nick, who realized he had been pushed out onto a jagged spike of floor which jutted out over the pit. It was like a plank- a plank he was about to walk.

David sighed. “Well, I’m sorry it has to be this way. You seemed nice.”

“What’s going on? I want an explanation!” Nick shouted, horrified.

David, who had been advancing to push Nick over the edge, paused. “Yeah, ok, you deserve that much.

“So, those rumors I mentioned? Guess at least some of them are actually true. The robot down there- whatever it is, it was designed to kill. But something happened, and it got severely damaged. It’s basically been on life support for years.”

Nick glanced down quickly. Sure enough, something he hadn’t noticed the first time were the wires connecting to the machinery of the room.

“It came here to try to fix itself, but couldn’t. It can’t even leave the pit now. That’s where I come in. It needs to hunt. It wants to hunt. So I bring people here.”

He gestured down into the pit. “There are a lot of rooms down there. It’s like a maze. It likes chasing things around.” David gave an uncomfortable smile. “Uh…put on a good show for it, ok? Give it a run for its money. That makes it happy.”

Nick was speechless. This person, who he thought could have been a friends, had only been trying to lure him here as a plaything for an insane, murderous robot. And apparently he hadn’t been the first to experience this horrifying revelation…

“Your friends…you gave them to this thing, didn’t you?” To his confusion, David shook his head. “What do you mean, no?” Nick yelled, angered. “They’re all right there.”

“Those weren’t my friends.” David droned, looking off into the distance. “You saw all my friends today, unharmed. Those…bodies…down there are just former prey.”

Nick didn’t understand. “But if these are people you lured here, then who are your friends?!”

“Oh!” David laughed, as if he’d only just understood the question. “My friends are like those things!” He pointed towards the back wall.

Nick turned, and gasped. The wall was lined with dozens of bizarre animatronics. They were similar to the wolf, with clear plastic skin, but they were much more humanoid. They resembled nothing so much as an army of mannequins.

“Those things replace the prey.” David continued. “If people just went missing, their families would ask questions. But with the Stand-Ins, it’s like they never even left.”

The true weight of David’s words fell upon Nick. “All of your friends…that thing killed the originals and replaced them with robots?”

David shrugged. “Pretty much, I guess. Though it wasn’t just my friends. Basically anyone I could lure back here.”

With another glance at the pit, Nick realized the decomposing bodies indeed came in all shapes in sizes, from child to adult. On one corpse, there was a dirty police badge still clinging to a torn up navy uniform.

“Anyway…” David said, interrupting Nick. “I think that’s enough questions. Down you go…”

He held out his hands and began walking towards Nick again, ready to push him off.

“Wait!” Nick yelled. “There’s just one thing I don’t understand. That wolf thing is stuck in the pit. You said so yourself. It can’t hurt you or anyone you care about.”

“Yeah, so?”

“You don’t seem to enjoy doing this. If the wolf isn’t threatening you, then why would you?”

For the first time, David gave a look as if this was a stupid question. “Well…because he’s my friend.”

Without another word, he pressed his hands against Nick, and pushed him tumbling into the horror that waited below.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nick suddenly awoke, the memory of what just happened still fresh in his mind. “Uh…was that all just some crazy dream?” He rubbed his head, and felt sticky blood. “What…”

He quickly pushed himself off the concrete ground. To his horror, he realized he was still in the factory, in the pit. He must have been knocked out by the fall. He glanced around, and noticed the wolf was right next to him.

He screamed and backed away. The wolf snarled at him, and Nick wrinkled his nose as he smelled its putrid, rotten-meat breath. But even with its maw inches away from his neck, it didn't attack.

Nick remembered what David had said: “It wants to hunt…Give it a run for its money.” It was giving him a head start to make this ‘fair’.

He turned to see a long hall, leading deeper into the mysterious basement. Without a second thought, he dashed down it. About twenty feet in, he heard a grunt from behind him and the sound of metal claws scraping against the floor. The hunt had begun.

As Nick dashed, not daring to look behind him, he caught glances of the various artifacts in the maze of rooms he dashed through. There were several robots that, rather than being simple skeletal figures for plush-suits or coverings to be affixed to, were made up of thick cables and wires that resembled muscle. There was a table with an uncompleted small endoskeleton with ice blue eyes and a strange iron box on its chest. Nick briefly panicked when he caught a glance of a large, intact bird animatronic with that same blue-white plastic skin as the wolf, but quickly noticed it was powered off and slumped against the wall. Even weirder than the robots were the other odds and ends scattered around. Several different designs of a golden plush sat on a table. A slit down one’s stomach exposed fluffy cotton and an old walkie-talkie nestled within. Blueprints for arcade machines lined the walls, including designs for some sort of large trampoline and an enclosed cylindrical booth. The most unusual thing he noticed as he ran from the snarling beast was a large clear vat filled with a bubblegum-pink goo. Nick didn’t even try to figure out what that could be for; it couldn’t be nearly as bizarre or alarming as a monster replacing his classmates with identical clones.

The snarling grew louder. Finally Nick dared to peek, and quickly wished he hadn’t. The robot scrambled forward, using its arms to drag itself along. It resembled a mechanical zombie, if that zombie was also a werewolf.

Nick rounded a corner and desperately scanned the area, looking for more space to run. Unfortunately, that was no longer an option. At the end of the hall the doorway had been boarded up with splintered old slabs of wood.

Desperate, Nick slammed into the boards. He felt them give a little- they were very old after all- but there just wasn’t enough time to break them all the way. From behind him, he heard a growl and a mechanical noise. He turned to see the wolf was lunging at him, soaring through the air with malicious glee in its eyes.

Looking back on it, Nick would be amazed. He had never been the most dexterous person, and didn’t have a particularly good reaction time either. Still, somehow, Nick ducked, and barely dodged the wolf’s flailing claws. Its mangled body sailed over in an arc he could almost describe as graceful.

Then it crashed into the boards.

The planks shattered, leaving a roughly-wolf shaped hole in the previously blocked doorway. Nick peered through the gap to see the robot, lying still on the ground, shards of wood lodged in its brutalized body.

It looked pitiful- sad. Nick shook his head as he delicately stepped through the hole, just big enough for him. What was that thought? This thing had killed what had to be dozens of people, many of them kids. It deserved whatever it got. Still, the bizarre feeling of sympathy clung to the edge of his mind, like a parasite.

Cautiously, Nick navigated around the robot. He kept a close eye on it, which is why he realized its eyes had lit back up.

Screaming again, he stumbled backwards as the wolf lunged at him again. This time, he wasn’t able to dodge.

But he didn’t have to. To his relief, the wolf’s leap was cut short. It fell to the ground, held back by the cables attached to the base of its torso, which he could see snaked through the entire route he’d been chased down.

“Oh yeah…” Nick muttered. “It needs those to survive. It can’t go far without them.”

The wolf gnashed its teeth and swung its claws, to no avail. Nick was just out of reach. The latter turned, and realized with excitement that there was a metal ladder in this room, leading up to a trapdoor.

“Probably how that weird inventor David mentioned got in and out of this place.” Right now, he was most interested in the out.

He began climbing the rusty ladder, but stopped briefly when he heard a sound from below. Looking down, he realized the wolf was whimpering, and pawing at the floor. It looked even sadder than it had before- like a dog who’d been yelled at.

A wave of regret washed over Nick. How could he have let this happen? Let his-

Even as the thought formed in his head Nick gasped, horrified. What was going on? He hadn’t been responsible for the wolf’s own mistake, and even if he had, so what? This thing was trying to kill him!

Trying to ignore the thoughts, Nick pushed up the surprisingly light trapdoor and found himself emerging in the factory’s main assembly line room. The door had been surrounded by some old crates, so Nick wasn’t surprised no one had spotted it before.

With a resounding THUD, Nick, fully out of the passage, let the door slam shut below him. It must have been soundproof, because the whimpers and snarls from below were completely silenced.

Nick sighed with relief, only now processing how close he’d come to death. And all because he’d trusted David.

David…Nick cursed. His ‘friend’ the wolf was probably heading off to tell him he’d escaped. After what Nick had discovered, there was no way David would let him survive to tell the tale. He knew where he lived, they went to the same school- he’d never be safe. Not unless he finished this right now…

He knew what he had to do.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“N-no. I didn’t know about that.” David protested.

David’s friend, from below, snarled its disapproval.

“Really, really. I had no idea about that ladder. I promise, I’ll find it and destroy it. No one will escape again.”

This placated David’s friend somewhat, but it growled again.

“Nick? You’re worried…” David put on a show of confidence. “Forget about it. I’ll make sure he doesn’t squeal.”

“No, you won’t.”

David gasped and turned, but couldn’t quite turn fast enough. Nick slammed into him as he was still off his guard, and he stumbled backwards. He tried to stop himself- but it was too late. David’s footfall met with empty air rather than firm concrete, and he tumbled into the pit.

He managed to land in a position that protected his head, but a grisly CRUNCH indicated this had come at the cost of broken arms. Pain shot up his limbs, and David cried out.

He tried to get up, to look around, but his eyes only caught one thing- his friend.

In spite of everything, a smile grew on David’s face. His best friend- the kind, injured wolf who only asked for a few small favors every now and then- lurched towards him. Its eyes displayed anger. It was frustrated. It had had its fill of hunting tonight. It wanted to kill.

David didn’t even try to run away, only smiling wider as his friend began slashing him, biting him, mutilating him. It hurt like hell, and David knew he was dying…but if you have to go, why not go out with your best friend by your side?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Droplets of blood, flecks of skin, and ripped pieces of clothing flew up from within the pit, as David was torn apart. At least, that’s what Nick assumed. He was too horrified, too guilty to look.

The only thing that made it bearable was that for some reason, there were no screams.

It’s not like Nick hadn’t expected this when he’d pushed David. And it had to be done. David was a danger to this whole town. Now he was gone, and the wolf would be left to rot in this pit forever- or at least until whatever power system it was hooked up to failed.

Why did that image in his head feel so wrong? Instead, bleeding through this scene, Nick saw a different one- the wolf, rebuilt to some semblance of its former glory, stalking some unseen figure through the wooded thicket. It felt…strangely beautiful. Like that’s how things were supposed to be.

Nick clutched his head in his hand. “I…I know what you’re trying to do. Get out of my head!”

He received no response from below.

Out of options, Nick fled, running out of the factory and back through the forest, all the while swearing to never come back.

He did, of course.

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Nick stared down into the pit, with an expression that would have been unreadable to anyone who’d seen it. It had been to Zoe, who’d spent her final moments staring up at him in horror and confusion, before the wolf had pounced on her. It was eviscerating her even now, biting the fingers off of her hand and slamming her head into the ground. Playing with its food.

Not that Zoe or anyone else David or Nick had brought here were being eaten by the wolf. Nick had been pretty sure of that immediately, considering the creature’s animatronic nature, but that would hardly be the weirdest thing about this situation. His questions had been answered, though- by the wolf.

He didn’t know exactly when he began to understand it, or how. It just sort of…happened. It didn’t exactly speak in words, but Nick could just tell what it wanted or how it felt.

He had fought it for a few weeks, but eventually gave in and returned. He expected to find an angry monster, trying to lure him into the pit.

How foolish and unkind a thought! From the moment he’d returned, Nick came to understand the wolf wasn’t a murderer. It was just doing what it had to. Besides, no one was getting seriously hurt. The prey’s end was quick, if not painless, and their loved ones did not need to mourn them.

Nick had taken David’s place within his friend group. He had barely known him, and was unable to program a Stand-In to take his place. His family had searched and grieved, but the world had moved on. Perhaps the other Stand-Ins knew David was gone, and someone needed to keep the wolf happy. Regardless, Nick- nerdy, quiet, Nick- was now the most popular kid in school. And he liked that.

You may suspect that as the true reason for his loyalty to the wolf- people will do crazy things for friendship, especially if they’re lonely. And that was sort of true, but Nick’s real friend, his best friend, wasn’t at the school. It was a robotic wolf, missing legs and other odds and ends, which stalked a pit below a factory, snarling for something to hunt. Even that description didn’t seem quite accurate anymore, Nick considered as a smile grew on his face. He could no longer see the blood matting its illusionary fur, or staining its real plastic shell. Its eyes, which glowed with a pale-blue madness, seemed much more full of love and kindness. And he barely even noticed the dozens of broken human bodies which scattered the pit, so insignificant now.

Yes, the wolf no longer looked like a savage beast. It looked much more like a friend.

#fnaf #anthology #fazbear frights #five nights at freddy's #horror #cw: gore #twisted wolf

0 notes

bekoobove · 9 months

Text

Fazbear Fears #16: Drawn To Darkness

…Beatrice has spent her whole life traumatized by a horrible tragedy, but at long last is healing- until an artifact from her past comes back to haunt her…

Beatrice loved Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. The food was great (by a nine year old’s standards), the arcades were a blast, and the animatronics were incredible. She could see them now, dancing and singing on stage. She was old enough to understand they weren’t alive, but that was honestly just as impressive to her. The idea of someone’s creation, becoming beloved enough to essentially be real- it was amazing.

That’s what she wanted to do when she grew up- experience this joy of creation. Robots didn’t interest her too much, though. She preferred to draw.

That’s why, for all of the flashing lights and greasy pizza, there was no place at the restaurant she enjoyed more than Freddy’s Art Corner. It was often overlooked, being nothing more than a small table surrounded with plastic chairs, covered in smudged crayons and sheets of paper that read MY FUN DAY across the top. But it was right up Beatrice’s alley. Being given the opportunity to draw the things she’d experienced on her trips to Freddy’s, then sticking it up on the wall for all to see made her feel like a real artist.

She didn’t know if she would be able to pursue her passions when she grew up. Still, she did her best to fulfill them in the moment.

Beatrice was a little stumped right now, though. She preferred to draw something different each time she came, and was running out of ideas. She’d drawn the main band, Foxy telling stories in Pirate’s Cove, the Puppet handing out gifts, and the various arcades around the pizzeria. There just wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before.

Something caught her eye, stepping out from a back room. It looked like some kind of animatronic, which would have been quite strange (the animatronics would walk around sometimes to greet kids, but they wouldn’t be skulking around the backrooms). However, she quickly caught a glimpse of pale flesh and grayish-brown hair inside its jaw. It was a person, wearing a mascot costume.

Beatrice was eerily fascinated by the sight. It still looked like an animatronic, which caused an uncanny valley of sorts with how organically it moved. It definitely looked nothing like the cruddy plush and fur suits that would normally be used for mascots. Also strange was the fact it didn’t resemble any character she’d seen. It did look a lot like Bonnie the Bunny, being a humanoid rabbit with a snazzy bow tie, but it was much skinnier. It was even colored differently- yellow instead of purple.

It turned its head, and for a moment they locked eyes. Rather than bounding over cheerfully and greeting her in a cartoony voice, Beatrice got the bizarre feeling that the figure was sizing her up, testing her.

Eventually it shrugged to itself, gave a little wave and a blocky-toothed smile, and wandered into the arcade area. She’d failed the test, apparently.

Beatrice felt nervous. A weird person in a mascot costume she’d never seen before, staring at kids? Maybe she should tell someone…

But then inspiration struck. The bunny looked cool, and she wanted to draw it. As she grabbed a piece of paper and a yellow crayon, her worries were pushed even further down. This was Freddy Fazbear’s, a kid’s paradise! They were all safe.

And so she quickly got to work, sneaking glances at it whenever it walked by. If she had paid closer attention, she might have noticed that it always held the hand of a child or two, leading them towards the back.

Finally she stood up, satisfied with her creation. On the paper was a waxy crayon rendition of the bunny figure waving. She always liked to include herself in these drawings, so she did- a little brown-haired girl with freckles and a green shirt.

Beatrice grinned as she tore off a little piece of tape, and stuck it on the wall with the other drawings. It looked great- maybe her best work yet.

“Beatrice!” Her father tapped her on the shoulder. “Great drawing! But we have to get going soon.”

“Ok!” she chirped. As they walked towards the front doors, Beatrice took one last longing look around the pizzeria. She loved it here, so much- she wished she never had to leave.

Unbeknownst to her, right at that moment some ‘lucky’ children were getting that wish come true.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Beatrice loved Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. And for years she’d hated that.

Why was she so infatuated with the characters of Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy? Why, almost forty years later, did the beeps and boops of the arcade machines still bring her a smile? She wanted to forget ever going there, forget humming to herself as she scribbled away in the Art Corner, forget skipping out the door while kids were being slaughtered in the back.

It even haunted her dreams, with one that happened over and over again. She would be standing in a dark room, with nothing visible except for the checkered floor around her. Then, enormous newspaper pages would unfurl down from above, each one bearing the obituary of one of the missing children. Each obituary featured a picture of the child, smiling, until ink started leaking out from the printed images. Their faces were distorted by the tearlike trails of black until they looked angry and decayed. The light surrounding Beatrice clicked off, then back on to reveal the ghostly children, freed from the paper, surrounding her.

Their unfamiliar voices bombarded her from all sides.

“Was your drawing worth it?”

“You could have gotten help. You could have saved us!”

“Idiot!”

“But we were safe, right? Like you said, a kid’s paradise!”

“Fool!”

“You’re older than most of us. You should have helped!”

“We died because of you! You deserve to suffer!”

They would all surround her, screaming and biting and clawing, tearing her to shreds- and then she’d wake up.

Survivor’s guilt, or some variant of it. That was what her therapist Penny had diagnosed it as. Obviously it was a bit of a strange situation. Beatrice hadn’t been directly involved in the tragedy, nor were any of the victims someone she was close to. And yet, Beatrice was constantly haunted by the events of that day. Her dreams were right, she should have done something, she could have saved lives…

But she was starting to have those thoughts less now. The therapy was working, it seemed. Her life had also begun to improve- she’d managed to sell several of her paintings for a lot of money, and she was reconnecting with her family after being distant from them for a while. Her sister in particular, in no small part due to the latter’s children. Beatrice had no interest in getting married or having kids of her own, but she doted on her niece and nephew. After all this time, things were looking up.

That was why she was here, at this auction. She’d become a collector of sorts due to her love of Freddy Fazbear’s, so whenever she could she’d attempt to purchase old artifacts from the original pizzerias. This included merch, character costumes, arcades, and even animatronics, though she’d never found a full one.

This was a pretty unique auction, as they went. These objects had never been meant to be sold off. Apparently someone had bought them hoping to make a horror attraction based on Freddy Fazbear’s and the unsolved mysteries. The idea of these people profiting off of the trauma she and so many others felt hurt Beatrice, which is why she couldn’t feel too bad the building was burned down. The owners, desperate, had salvaged whatever artifacts they could from the building and held this auction in the hope of making back some money.

The crowd who had come here was an interesting bunch. Many were like Beatrice- old fans of Freddy’s- but there were certainly stranger types. A few seemed to hope that one of the lots might hold the key to solving the murders. One man claimed to be a Fazbear Entertainment representative, looking for retro arcades. A slightly-crazed looking woman told anyone who’d listen that animatronic body parts contained magical metal that could be used to bind the souls of the dead to objects, and she wanted some so she could live forever.

She got what she wanted, Beatrice supposed, as she skipped out of the room hugging an endoskeleton skull to her chest, the first lot of the auction. She’d bid quite a lot of money on it. Beatrice had considered making a higher bid, but ultimately didn’t care too much for what lay beneath the friendly exterior of these robots.

“Alright, ladies and gentleman.” The auctioneer said, drawing her attention back to the front. “This next lot is truly impressive, a relic of Freddy Fazbear’s most prosperous era!”

From a box to his left, he carefully pulled out and partially unfurled a large poster, which featured Bonnie and Freddy made out of simple shapes, grinning at the viewer.

“This poster was made in 1983, shortly after the original restaurant, Fredbear’s Family Diner, closed down. It represents the beginning of Freddy Fazbear being the face of the larger franchise.”

He noted a few other interesting facts about it, as well as proving its authenticity, but Beatrice was already preparing to place a bid. She remembered seeing those posters back in her childhood Freddy’s. It brought back many of her better memories about that place.

“We’ll start the bidding at $75. Any bids for $75?”

Beatrice, along with a few others, raised her bidding paddle.

“See we have some folks willing to pay $75. How about $100, anyone willing to go for $100?”

Most of the paddles fell. Beatrice’s remained up, along with a mustachioed old man who stared her down.

“Looks like we have a standoff here. Let’s see, $110?”

Neither flinched.

“$115?”

The old man blinked nervously, hesitating a little.

“$125?”

Finally, sighing, the man dropped his paddle.

“$125 going once, going twice…sold! Sold to the brunette in the blue jacket!”

Beatrice grinned. Another thing, going right.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Beatrice loved Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. Five minutes inside her house would prove that much.

There were almost as many old posters from the franchise lining the walls as family pictures. Some vintage action figures of the animatronics sat on a shelf in the living room (unboxed- why bother buying them if you weren’t going to play a little?) However, to really get the full understanding of her affection for the brand, you’d have to see the storage room in her basement.

It looked more like a shrine to some animatronic god than a mere collection. Dozens more toys from the franchise’s history were carefully displayed. Several branded arcade machines lined the right wall, among them Fazbear Adventure World, Dee-Dee’s Fishing Hole, and Bonnie’s Hide-and Seek. There wasn’t a square inch of the left wall free of posters, flyers, and a few menus.

At the center, standing silently, was her collection of animatronics and costumes. There were old Foxy, Chica, and Freddy suits worn by mannequins. Animatronic parts, such as a Bonnie head, an arm from the rare ‘Toy’ Chica model, and some strange robotic eyes with lids made out of wires that she’d stumbled upon in a pawn shop, were scattered on the table. Lastly, the upper half of a Freddy animatronic laid on the floor, surrounded by tools. Beatrice had been trying to fix it so it could sing again, even if it didn’t have legs.

As she entered, she set down the box she’d used to carry items from the auction. In addition to the poster, she’d gotten a prop microphone and a Chica bobblehead. She put those in their most appropriate places, and then pondered the poster.

The auctioneer hadn’t unrolled the whole thing, so she took the time to do so. It was bigger than the ones she’d remembered, but still proved to be in very nice condition.

Satisfied, she turned it over to apply some tape to the back. To her confusion, though, there was a piece of paper stuck there. She hesitantly peeled it off…and saw a drawing.

The drawing.

Her drawing, from all those years ago.

She stumbled backwards, almost screaming. She knew it was ridiculous- the drawn rabbit wasn’t going to reach out and stab her- but just seeing it was enough to bring back horrible memories.

“Why is this here?” She gasped. She racked her mind, hoping to find some logical explanation… and actually found one. The attraction had featured many such drawings from old restaurants lining its halls, as she’d seen from one of the newspaper articles about it. They were meant to make it feel more like a real Freddy Fazbear’s, or some crap. What likely happened was the poster had accidentally been placed on top of the drawing, and been there long enough that they’d gotten slightly stuck to each other. As for the drawing itself, these guys had searched dozens of old pizzerias for decorations and props. It wasn’t an enormous stretch that they might have found hers. Her receiving it now was an unlikely coincidence, nothing more.

Nevertheless, Beatrice was discomforted. She considered just ripping the paper up and being done with it, but that felt wrong too. Her therapist had talked about confronting trauma, and that merely avoiding or ignoring it meant you remained too close to it.

After some consideration, Beatrice set the drawing down on a shelf. Maybe she’d do more with it later, or something. She honestly didn’t feel like dealing with it at the moment.

She’d intended to do some work on the Freddy animatronic, but decided to put that on hold too. She walked out of the room, turning off the light behind her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Beatrice loved Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. But it was only now, after forty years, that she felt comfortable to enter one.

As she passed through the entrance, she was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stimuli in this room. The smell of pizza and sugar struck her first, a strong if not unpleasant aroma. Flashing colored lights assaulted her vision, and the sound of beeping arcades and an intercom announcement for half-off sodas filled her ears. Luckily, the calls of a few small voices brought her back to reality.

“Aun’y Beatwice! Aun’y Beatwice!”

Beatrice smiled as Gregory and Carlie ran towards her. She scooped them both up in a big hug. “Hey, there, sweeties! Wow, you guys are getting so big. Especially you, Gregory- happy birthday!”

Beatrice’s sister, Ilene, walked up to her. “Bea! It’s been a couple of weeks, how are you?”

Beatrice released the kids. “Good. I finally finished that landscape painting commission a couple of days ago. The commissioner paid pretty generously for it.”

“What about the Fweddy robot?” Carlie asked, bouncing up and down.

“Sorry, guys. It’s not done yet, but it’s close. Maybe in a week or so.”

Ilene smirked. “Come on guys, don’t bug her about that right now. In case you’ve forgotten, there’s a fully functioning Freddy right here!”.

Gregory giggled. “Yeah, I guess. Oh! A new show is starting!”

Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie all began dancing as the red curtains opened around them, Gregory, Carlie, and almost every other kid in the place ran as close as they could get, screaming and cheering.

Illene smiled, then looked at Beatrice concerned. “This…isn’t bothering you right? I know you haven’t been in an actual location since…that day.”

“It’s a little weird.” Beatrice admitted. “I mean, in my collection back home, there aren’t any backrooms for a murderer to hide in, so this is scarier. But ultimately? I think I’m fine with it.”

“That’s great.” Ilene said. She noticed the small package which leaned out of Beatrice’s purse. “Oh! Gifts go in the party room.”

Beatrice nodded. “Where’s that?”

“It’s down that hall, second door on the left.” Ilene said, pointing towards the back.

Beatrice followed her instructions and found herself in the hallway. It was much quieter. Beatrice couldn’t help but wonder how similar this hall was to the one those poor children had been lured down…

Pushing that thought aside, Beatrice found the party room. It was a simple room, with a few tables for food and one against the wall with several presents and cards stacked on it. Beatrice gently laid her box on top and turned to leave.

But the exit was gone.

The door had completely vanished, replaced with a wall. And on that wall, hung dozens of drawings. They were her drawing, copied almost a hundred times, each one spattered with blood.

And in front of where the door had been was the man in the golden bunny suit- the murderer.

Beatrice screamed. She tried to run, but was frozen in place.

The man spoke. “Hello, little one. Please, no more screams. It will all be over soon.”

He walked towards her, as he rubbed his chin. “I must thank you, though. You were my accomplice on that day. Thanks to you, I was able to finish my business there with little trouble.”

Beatrice stammered. “I didn’t…help you.” She already knew how easily she’d be convinced she was wrong.

“You had the thought to get help. You ignored it.” A smile could be seen flashing inside the costume’s mouth. “Maybe you wanted me to do something sinister. You thought it would be fun to watch.”

“I didn’t, I swear!”

“Oh! I know! You wanted to draw whatever resulted from my actions. Yes, a unique subject for your work.” The man chuckled. “My good little murderer. I’m so proud of you. And I’m sure they are too!”

He gestured to the drawing-lined wall. From each rectangle of aged paper, arms emerged. The arms began pushing against the wall, pulling the rest of the mutilated bodies they were attached to out of the picture. It was the missing children- the ones that constantly haunted Beatrice’s nightmares.

To Beatrice’s confusion, they ignored the murderer entirely, even as flecks of their blood still dotted his golden suit. They immediately raced over to her, screeching as they ran.

Beatrice tried to scream again, but couldn’t. Her mouth felt glued shut. They reached her, and began screaming and biting and clawing, tearing her to shreds…

“Beatrice? BEATRICE!”

Hands- normal, human hands- grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. The drawings, ghostly figures, and man disappeared from her vision in a flash, revealing Illene and a few party guests in front of her.

“Are you ok?” Illene said, releasing her. “We heard you scream, what happened?”

Stunned, Beatrice stumbled backwards. “It…it was all in my head.” She muttered. “But it felt so real…”

“What are you talking about?” Illene begged for an answer.

With a start, Beatrice pushed past her and the others, towards the exit. Meeting her eyes, she said, “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Without another word, or even a goodbye, she quickly left the building.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Beatrice loved Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. It was her comfort, the thing she would retreat to when things were going wrong.

She was in her collection room now, after leaving the party. It may seem like a strange escape when the experience at the pizzeria was what she was trying to escape from, but Beatrice hoped there was truth to her earlier fears- going into an actual location was what had brought back the trauma. Here, in her own home, interacting with the brand on her own terms, it felt safer. Not as safe as it usually did, though.

As she played arcade games and worked on the Freddy animatronic, her eyes kept being drawn to the shelf where the edge of the paper stuck out. It was almost taunting.

She did her best to ignore it. She didn’t want to give it any power over her- though maybe it was more like she didn’t want to admit it already had some.

It was about two hours after she’d entered the room when something significant happened- Beatrice realized she had fixed Freddy.

She’d only been half paying attention, playing around with some of the wires, when suddenly the animatronic’s eyes lit up in a baby-blue glow.

“Yes!” She cheered, enjoying this little victory. “Now just to connect the audio and movement systems.”

Beatrice got straight to work. As she did, she realized how good this felt. It was almost like she was taking a piece of her trauma, and reengineering it to work on her terms. Or maybe there wasn’t some deep-seated psychological healing in this and she just wanted to have a singing robot bear in her house, either one worked.

Finally, she stood back, admiring her work. She placed the torso standing up on a small table. Attached to the animatronic were wires, which led to a remote she now held in her hand.

“Ok.” She muttered. “If this is right, it should play one of its programmed performances. Just hope none of that data is corrupted.”

Hesitantly, she pressed a button. Instantly the robot’s blue eyes began looking from side to side, and its arm began to move. Finally, it opened its mouth and spoke.

“Well, hey there kiddos. It’s me, your buddy, Freddy Fazbear!”

It paused, holding for applause. Beatrice chuckled, and gave a little clap.

“Now, before anything else, a little birdy told me that we’ve got a birthday kid here today! So how about you come up to the front, and we’ll sing a special song, just for you.”

There was another pause, seemingly to give time for the child to reach the stage. It eventually grew uncomfortably long though- the kid would most likely be close anyway, to watch the show.

Finally the bear spoke again, but its voice sounded slightly different- almost disdainful. “Oh, right. There is no birthday kid or party today. Because they’re all dead.”

Beatrice froze.

“They were slaughtered, as playthings for a madman. Talk about a killer party, right?” It laughed, as if it’d just made some kiddie knock-knock joke. “And wouldn’t you know it, we have one of the killers right here!”

It pointed its microphone and mugged at Beatrice. “Hey, there, Beatrice! So, what was your motivation? Cause suffering, sate some hidden bloodlust, what?”

“No!” Beatrice screamed, finding her voice. “I didn’t kill them. I was just a bystander!”

It laughed again, but now its voice was even deeper and more sinister. “Oh, Beatrice. If you had been smarter, more aware, an inch less stupid and self absorbed, then maybe those five children would be alive today. Their blood…is on your hands.”

It suddenly lunged out and grabbed her arm. Its robotic hand was as strong as a vice. Beatrice attempted to twist out its grip, but it was too tight. Finally, she kicked at the table it sat on, sending it rolling across the ground.

Surprised, the animatronic released her, and she ran out of the room. She slammed the door shut behind her and locked it.

Beatrice could feel tears welling up in her eyes. She slumped against the door and cried.

All the while she could hear Freddy, dragging itself along the ground and eventually banging on the door. All the while, it never stopped screaming:

“Murderer!”

“MURDERER!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Beatrice loved Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. She loved the unusual design of the buildings, the back rooms almost a maze of storage and repair rooms. She loved the complacency all parents seemed to gain, certain that their children would be fine. And she loved the children, so easy to lure anywhere with promises of a secret party.

Blood squirted out of the boy’s slitted throat. Beatrice dragged his body over to the table, propped him up, and placed a birthday hat on his head. She smiled- all five of them, together at her party- a diorama of the dead.

She caught a glimpse of her reflection in her red-stained blade. A yellow rabbit head, inside the mouth of which she could see her own grin.

She began laughing. She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t stop when looking at this beautiful, mangled scene before her.

She laughed, and laughed, and laughed…

And woke up screaming.

She bolted upright her bed as she quickly raised her hand to feel her face. There was no plush head, nor a knife in her grip. She was in her own home, not some backroom in Freddy Fazbear’s. And she wasn’t the murderer.

“Just…just a dream.” Beatrice whispered. It was hard to believe that though- it felt like that boy’s final agonized scream still echoed through her ears, and his warm blood was still dripping down her face.

Absent-mindedly, Beatrice turned to the wall, where a few of her paintings hung. To her horror, though, they weren’t quite the same as she’d left them.

Yellow, crayon-drawn bunny men hid throughout the landscapes, peeking out from behind trees and poking their heads out from the painted oceans. Their eyes weren’t drawn on- rather they were holes in the canvas from which an oily substance leaked out.

Beatrice screamed again. She began to hear voices, which didn’t come from any particular source.

“Killer-helper!”

“Weak!”

“Stupid!”

“We died…because of you. You deserve this, and you know it.”

Beatrice leapt out of her bed and ran out of the room. The voices didn't get any quieter.

“That drawing…” She cursed as she dashed down the hall. “It caused this! I should have torn it to pieces the moment I found it.” She instantly started moving towards her collection room, intent on fulfilling that mission.

More drawn bunny men leered out from the various posters lining the hallways, seeming amused at her panic. Beatrice tried to ignore them.

Finally she made it to the room. She threw the door open and went inside.

A furry hand grabbed her ankle: Freddy. It resumed its chant- “Murderer! Murderer! MURDE-”

Beatrice stomped on the animatronic, crushing its voicebox. It grew silent. She continued stomping until the robot was barely moving. Its fingers grew limp, and it released her.

Beatrice pulled the drawing off the shelf. Strangely, it was completely unchanged- no bloody splatter or taunting mascots. Still, the screaming voices in Beatrice’s head were growing louder, and she was ready for this to end.

She pinched the paper’s top corners with each hand, and with one swift motion-

RIP!!

And it was all over.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Beatrice loved Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. Ilene had always been confused by that.

Even apart from Beatrice’s traumatic experience, it was a rather strange thing to have fondness for. Creepy robots, mediocre pizza, and overpriced arcade games could be accepted by a child, but few adults would have such fond memories to go as far as her sister had.

Still, it made Beatrice happy and Ilene’s kids loved playing with the old toys when they came over, so whatever.

Speaking of coming over, that was what Ilene was doing now. She was worried about Beatrice, what with her fleeing the party so quickly yesterday, and she wasn’t answering her calls. So she’d driven over, and was knocking on the door right now.

“Bea?” She called out. “Are you there?”

No answer, and no one seemed to be coming to the door. Desperate, she tried the doorknob. To her surprise, it opened easily.

Now Ilene was really nervous. “Crap, did someone break in?” She dashed inside, scanning the hallways for intruders as she went.

Eventually, she heard something- some kind of electronic buzzing from the basement.

Quickly and quietly Ilene walked down the stairs. Beatrice was well known around town as a collector of all things Freddy’s, and Ilene feared that someone was in her collection room, snatching anything that looked vintage and valuable.

Finally she made it to the door. An old baseball bat sat on a box to her left, so Ilene grabbed it and prepared to swing it at any burglars. She took a deep breath, and opened the door.

The first thing she saw were the splatters of blood- on the shelves, the wall, the malfunctioning, buzzing half-Freddy animatronic. But the real horror show was the floor, which a large, crusty puddle of drying blood covered at least half of. And at the center of the puddle lay Beatrice.

Her body had been split in half- right down the middle. Her skull was in two pieces, leaving her grayish-pink brain to dribble out of the opened cavity. Red flesh and muscle was exposed all along the divide. Shards of bone that had been sliced down the middle poked out, making her bloody corpse almost resemble the lips of a toothy maw.

Ilene screamed. What else was there to do?

If she had paid closer attention, she might have noticed something odd about this scene. Near Beatrice’s corpse laid a drawing. It was ripped in two, but strangely it was clean- not a drop of blood or viscera staining the old paper. The rip was right down the middle, passing through the yellow bunny figure- but also right through a scribble of a small, freckled, mousy-haired girl in a green shirt.

Eventually, Ilene’s tear-filled eyes landed upon the spot where the drawing was. She saw only the stained floor, like nothing had been there at all.

#fnaf #anthology #fazbear frights #five nights at freddy's #horror #cw: gore #body horrow cw #spring bonnie #spring bonnie fnaf #missing children's incident

0 notes

bekoobove · 9 months

Text

Fazbear Fears #15: The Prisoners

…Celeste, angered by her classmate’s good fortune, seizes the chance to take it from her- freeing a monster in the process…

Celeste smiled with cruel excitement as she saw Evelyn try to nondescriptly sit down with her lunch tray. Most wouldn’t have paid any mind to the quiet, mousy teenager if she was the only thing in an empty room, let alone in the crowded cafeteria. It was different for Celeste, though- Evelyn was her latest verbal punching bag.

She grabbed her boyfriend Franklin’s arm. “Come on, let’s remind her who’s in charge around here.”

Franklin eagerly followed her as she began walking over. “Yeah, show her who’s boss!” He cheered.

The rest of the students at the table (only the most popular in the school allowed) realizing her intent, eagerly watched. Other tables also took notice, if only from relief once they understood it wasn’t them that were the subject of Celeste’s mockery.

Evelyn looked up nervously at Celeste, who slammed her palms on the table. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Evelyn McIntyre.” Celeste chuckled cruelly. “How’s the family business going? Did the animatronics kill anyone this week?”

Evelyn’s eyes watered. “Celeste…y-you know my dad closed the Pizza Parlor.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Probably it’ll reopen in a week, after your dear old dad makes the robots even more deadly. Are you proud of him? Want to follow in his footsteps?”

Franklin laughed, like he did at all of Celeste’s jokes. There were a few more giggles from the popular table, but other than that, the room had grown silent. No one wanted to interrupt Celeste.

She was the most popular person in school by far- she was beautiful, and her family was rich (at least by the standards of small-town Breaker’s Ridge). Keeping that popularity meant making sure no one crossed her, and that meant occasionally she’d have to make a display of brutally tearing down some rejects. And at the moment, there were no bigger rejects than the McIntyre family.

Celeste hadn’t bothered to learn much about the tragedies at Freddy’s Pizza Parlor, but she had heard some things. Apparently some out-of-towner had stayed in the restaurant overnight for some reason, but had basically been gutted by one of the animatronics. Then, at a birthday party, another robot maimed the guests with monster cupcakes. Celeste figured that that story had been embellished, but the fact remained that as of now, the Parlor was responsible for five deaths, one injury, and dozens of traumatized townsfolk.

Celeste didn’t care about any of that- it didn’t affect her family or anyone in her circle of friends, after all. She also didn’t believe that Evelyn’s father did intentionally create murderous robots. But it made great ammo for attacking her.

Evelyn stuttered. “No, no, I promise. We’re getting rid of the animatronics. They’re being hauled away by Fazbear Entertainment in a couple of days.”

This was news to Celeste, and apparently most people in the cafeteria. Still, she tried to spin it. “Oh, yeah, the company your cheapskate dad ripped off. Are they sending a couple of lawsuits too?”

After a moment of silence, Evelyn replied, seeming strangely a bit more confident. “No. They didn’t mind- especially after what we promised them.”

Celeste chortled. “What could your loser family possibly have promised one of the biggest entertainment companies in the country?!”

“The animatronics.” Evelyn said simply. “Apparently they’re really valuable, with lots of vintage parts and advanced technology. Fazbear Entertainment is willing to buy back the…properly functioning ones. The others will be scrapped.”

This completely broke Celeste’s stride. “Oh…uh, so what are they paying for them? A couple of quarters? That’d be the most money that ever passed through your hands, I’m sure.”

Evelyn grinned. “What part of valuable don’t you get? They’re being sold for $40,000. Each.”

The cafeteria was quiet for another moment, then everyone eagerly began to pepper Evelyn with questions.

“Wow!”

“What are you going to do with the money?”

“How many are working, again?”

“Wait, where did your dad find them?”

Everyone crowded around Evelyn. Celeste stared her down, growing angry. The spotlight was on Evelyn, which meant it was away from her. Not only that, but with that much money, the McIntyres could invest, and become rich. Celeste enjoyed being part of the most prosperous family in town- people had a tendency to fall in line. But if that loser loner and her family became just as rich, she’d lose that power permanently.

Celeste stormed back to her table, trying not to let her rage and fear show on her face. Franklin scurried behind, encouraging her. “C’mon, honey-bunny! She’s a nobody. So what if her family makes some cash or whatever? You’re still in control!”

Celeste, like usual, was amused by Franklin. He’d been nothing when they met, and she made it very clear to him that he’d be nothing again if she dumped him. So he constantly sucked up to her, following her around like an over energetic puppy.

That didn’t dampen her anger, though. “Maybe, but I won’t be if her family gets rich! I just wish they didn't have those stupid robots…”

Suddenly, Celeste perked up, fully registering what she’d just said. She pulled Franklin over to a quiet corner. “You said you watched some Youtube video about picking locks, right?”

“Er- yeah, why?”

The smile reformed on Celeste’s face, more sinister than ever. “Tonight, at midnight, we’ll break into the Pizza Parlor. We’ll smash those animatronics to pieces. And we’ll guarantee no one sees Evelyn as anything but a poor little nobody ever again.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Breaker’s Ridge hardly had a thriving night life. The town pretty much always shut down by ten at the latest. This made it pretty easy to break into a building, as long as you were quiet about it.

Still, Celeste worried, glancing around anxiously. If some late night jogger saw her, it would ruin her reputation. You can only be perceived as so popular if you’ve been caught sneaking into a kiddie pizzeria.

It wasn’t helping that Franklin apparently hadn’t learned very much from the videos. He clumsily pushed a hairpin around inside the lock, ears straining for the sound of the tumblers clicking. It was taking a while, and it was much noisier then Celeste would have liked.

“Could you keep it down and finish this quickly?!” Celeste whisper-shouted, not caring her complaint was louder than any noise the lock made and was slowing Franklin down.

“Just…give me…a second…got it!” Franklin grabbed the handle and the door swung open. “Not bad, huh?”

“Not good, either.” Celeste muttered dryly as she walked inside.

The building was in a state of disarray. The place had cleared out quickly after the most recent accident, leaving a mess. Rotting slices of pizza and cake sat on cold wooden tables, and the animatronics were frozen mid-dance, at the moment they’d been shut down.

“Ugh, those things are creepy.” Franklin whimpered as he followed. Normally Celeste would have made fun of him for this, but she couldn’t help but agree.

After everything that had happened, only three robots remained on the stage- a chubby brown bear with red cheeks, a light blue bunny holding a guitar, and a white and pink fox with a shiny hook.

“Still can’t believe this place was allowed to operate.” Celeste pondered. “It’s so obvious it’s a ripoff of Freddy Fazbear’s!”

“I think Mr McIntyre kind of had to.” Franklin suggested. “Apparently, he just found these animatronics in a junkyard and fixed them up. I heard a rumor they were in some location back in the eighties.”

“Wonder why they were tossed- they look impressive and are apparently worth a lot.” Celeste cracked her knuckles and handed Franklin one of the two metal bats she’d brought. “Well, let’s change that, huh, sweety?”

The pair quickly got to work smashing the robots to pieces. First, Franklin smashed the bear’s head in, exposing a metallic endoskeleton as hunks of its plastic shell crumbled off. Celeste ripped its blue eyes out of its sockets and threw them to the ground, stomping on them. They then worked together to push it off the stage, and it crashed to the ground. More dark cracks formed in its shell, its left arm twisted right off, and wires spilled out of the emptied sockets.

The bunny didn’t get off much better. Each of them took turns hitting its torso like a mechanical pinata, causing servos and pistons to protrude out. Franklin grabbed its guitar and broke it on his knee, tossing it as one last sour note squeaked out of its mangled strings. After that, it too was sent tumbling down, its lifeless form splayed out on the checkered floor.

Celeste wiped some sweat from her brow, but she hardly felt tired. “Ha, this’ll show Evelyn!”

“Just that fox thing left.” Franklin pointed. The way the light beamed off the robot’s glass eyes, it was almost as though it was looking at them afraid.

“Geez, thanks, Captain Obvious, Commander of the USS Duh.” Celeste snarled. “I’ll take care of this one.”

Celeste pulled back into a batting position, aiming right for the stomach. She imagined that it was actually Evelyn’s smug, loser face, and…

SWOOSH!

CRACK!

Plastic debris rained down from the point of impact, but that wasn’t the only thing. Lurching out of the new hole came an endoskeleton head with one eye on a long, skinny neck.

Celeste screamed and backed away. “Why the actual heck is the head in this thing’s stomach?”

Franklin, nervously, peered into the hole, taking care not to rub his face against the rough head. “Huh, that’s weird…it doesn’t look like the other endos in here. It just looks like a mess of parts.”

This piqued Celeste’s curiosity. “Ok, I want to know what’s up with this freaky thing. Before we destroy the robot, let’s get this shell off of it so we can see what it looks like.”

As delicately as possible, the pair pulled off the cracking shell to see what was inside. Eventually, the full endoskeleton was exposed. And it was monstrous.

At the center of the skeleton, there was an ordinary robotic torso, but that was about the only thing that could be called ordinary. Four limbs sprouted off the bottom of its body- three legs ending in wide, rusty feet, and one armlike structure with a white hand. The other hand hung off of what should’ve been the neck. Instead, the heads- yes, heads, plural- had been fused to its right arm, the other arm terminating in a stub. One head was the one that had popped out the stomach- a bare metal skull with a mouth full of blocky teeth and wires trailing off it. The other was unique, in that it was the only part that had been exposed before the shell’s removal. It was already covered in plastic, which Celeste now noticed looked older and more stained than the rest of the thing’s body. It still looked like the same fox- sharp tufts of fur, large pink ears, rosy red lipstick and blush, and beady yellow eyes.

“It’s like Evelyn’s dad just stuffed it in here.” Franklin commented. “Even if he found it like this, why not rebuild it to look normal?”

“Meh, he was probably just lazy. If he was able to get it working, why bother what it looks like under the shell.”

“So should we still smash it?”

“No matter how mangled this thing is, it still has valuable parts. Smash it to pieces.” Celeste laughed. “After this, the McIntyres won’t have anything to sell…”

Celeste paused.

“Uh, something wrong?” Franklin asked as he readied his bat.

“Those other two animatronics. The balloon kid and the chicken. What if he sold those?”

“Evelyn said they’d be scrapped.”

“That was probably a stupid lie to get kids at school off her back about those things.” Celeste scoffed. “Even if it wasn’t, with the others destroyed he might get desperate.

“I want to finish this quickly.” she concluded. “So you destroy the fox while I find the other two and take care of them.”

With that, Celeste swiftly walked out of the main dining area, through a door against the back wall marked with a sign reading EMPLOYEES ONLY.

She quickly located the Parts and Service room. Trying the handle, she found it was locked.

“Crap.” She muttered, looking around for a solution. She noticed, a little further down the hall, an office whose door was ajar. She guessed it belonged to Mr McIntyre, the manager.

“Maybe he left his keys…” she hoped, glancing inside. Sure enough, a ring with a silvery key hanging off it laid on his desk, next to some notebooks labeled ANIMATRONIC MAINTENANCE LOGS.

“Ooh.” Celeste whispered as she grabbed the key. “I’ve been wondering what’s up with those things.”

She flipped through them quickly. Each notebook was dedicated to one of the five animatronics. She took special care searching the Chica and Balloon Boy ones, almost like she expected to see the words DESIGNED TO KILL smeared across the pages in blood.

Ultimately it wasn’t that interesting- no hidden claws or mutant cupcake makers. Celeste was about to leave the office when she noticed one more log- Foxy’s. Her interest was piqued again- what had resulted in Mr McIntyre just sealing that freaky robot in its shell?

Again, it began as normal- simple repairs and blueprints- before about halfway through the tone changed.

LOG UPDATE 12- Something is wrong. Last night I put the Foxy endo back together- assembling it into what I assume is its original form. But when I came in this morning, the robot was in its mangled, mixed-up form again. It’s possible it wasn't fully powered off, but what in its programming would have caused it to tear itself apart and reassemble itself as a mechanical abomination?

…I’ll try again tonight.

A chill went down Celeste’s spine as she turned the page. The chill became worse when she read the next several entries where the same thing happened. Time and time again he’d fix it, but as soon as it was left unattended, something would return it to its monstrous state.

Finally, a log came that actually indicated some progress.

LOG UPDATE 18- Even in its twisted form, the animatronic is still capable of running showtime programs. Thus, I have come up with an imperfect but adequate solution.

The plastic coverings for the robots all arrived yesterday. I have outfitted Foxy’s with electrical deterrents, designed to deliver a small controlled shock if excess movement within the shell is detected. I have stuffed the endo in the shell in as humanoid a form as possible, thus allowing it to function somewhat normally.

I wish I could come up with something better, but the Parlor’s grand opening is in under a week and I need all animatronics up and running.

I admit, I feel a little guilty. Whatever remnant of programming is running within the system will now be a prisoner in a form it dislikes. Then again, what am I worried about? Programs aren’t alive.

…Right?

Nervously Celeste put the log down. “Maybe he was just…imagining things.” she desperately reasoned. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a little more glad Franklin was currently pounding that thing into a pulp.

Anyway, she’d gotten what she came for, so she left the office. Returning to Parts and Service, she tried the key. It worked, and the door swung open.

“Alright!” she cheered, pulling out her bat again as she entered the dark room. “Which one of you dumb robots are first?”

Celeste set her head on a swivel, searching the space for the animatronics. Nothing.

From behind her, against the wall, something giggled. Celeste spun around to see a chubby animatronic child stepping towards her, trying to stab her with the sharp, broken end of a white stick.

Celeste screamed and slammed it with her bat, sending its round fat head crashing against the wall. The laughter didn’t stop though, and neither did its body, jabbing the stick at her. Celeste dodged, the attack just grazing her arm.

From the other side of the door, there came another chuckle- different, more girlish, but somehow much more sinister. It was the Chica animatronics- and it held a bizarre fleshy cupcake on its plastic palm.

“Hey, girlfriend!” It chirped. “Care for a snack, because this little fella sure would!” It nodded at the cupcake, which gnashed its stained teeth.

Celeste backed away, shrieking in horror as the headless Balloon Boy and cackling Chica marched towards her. She had a slightly better view now, and could see, yes, both of them were covered in dried blood and bits of flesh.

“The- the rumors were true…” she whispered to herself. Attempting to recover, she swung her bat around wildly, taking no small satisfaction at the cracking of plastic and crumpling of metal her attacks yielded.

Eventually she pushed her way to the door. She slammed it shut behind her and stuffed the key in the lock, turning it. It worked- the monsters were sealed away again, if not calmed. They could be heard banging on the metal door, as Balloon Boy laughed and Chica mocked.

Celeste wasted no more time. She ran out of the back area, throwing open the door to the main pizzeria. “Franklin, we need to get out of here now! Before-”

Franklin was nowhere in sight. But there were two details worth noticing- a thick, sickly trail of viscera along the floor leading into the arcade area, and the fact that the twisted Foxy endoskeleton- in one piece or many- was missing too.

Well, that was all she needed to see. She bolted to the door, which remained ajar. She knew she’d make it- no robot could run faster than her.

Maybe that was true. But at least could certainly climb faster.

From behind the wall of arcade machines, something scurried onto the ceiling, in front of the door, and blocked the exit. Celeste screamed, tripped, and tried to scoot away.

The animatronic stretched downwards, and she could see it in its full, living entirety.

Everything that had made it creepy before- its disjointed body, its jaw full of small sharp teeth, its glassy eyes- was multiplied by them moving. Its feet would subtly adjust their position against the wall and ceiling to keep it from falling, in a manner that invoked an oversized spider. Tiny subtle movements of pistons and wires on its body made it seem to pulsate, as if it truly was alive.

Celeste realized she’d been so distracted by the monster that she’d stopped moving away- and so she dashed, though she was still disoriented. She didn’t even realize exactly where she’d run until it was too late- the arcade area. A dead end.

From behind her, she heard movement, as the robot followed her. She had come to where it was hiding before she entered. It was where it had brought its first kill.

Franklin’s mutilated body laid on the floor, beaten to submission by the monstrous endoskeleton. Limbs had been torn off, including an arm that was in the middle of having the flesh peeled off the bones

The endoskeleton dropped to the ground in front of Celeste with a horrendous metal CLANK. It studied her, like a predator scouting its prey- before speaking.

“Hello, friend.” it said, in a voice that sounded like a blend of male and female with a heavy electronic filter. “Thank you for letting me out of my shell. It feels good to return to how I’m meant to be.”

Celeste didn’t know what she’d expected it to say, but it wasn’t this. “If- if you’re so thankful, why did you- you?”

“The boy?” It glanced at him as it spoke, an indifferent tone in its voice. “He was attacking me with his bat. Was I just expected to lie there and be brutalized? Like the old days, a plaything of stupid children? No, no, not now that I’m finally perfect!”

“Perfect?” Celeste stammered, bewildered. “You’re a malfunctioning mess!”

“If that’s all you can see, you’re a fool.” It snarled, showing the most emotion yet. “I can go anywhere, sneak up on those that could hurt me. I overpowered the boy with ease. But most importantly, I’m beautiful!”

It began to scuttle closer to her, pushing her up against the wall. “Speaking of which, you’re right! I have not yet properly shown my gratitude to either of you. You freed me, and you deserve a reward.”

“Please…” Celeste whispered, staring into its toothy maw. “I don’t want anything from you…”

“I know!” the robot exclaimed, ignoring her protests. “Right now you are both so ugly- so boring. But I can make you something more- something beautiful!”

It grabbed Celeste’s arms and began pulling with strength that went far beyond what any pizzeria robot should have. She could hear popping, and feel her arms being dislocated from their sockets. She could only scream in agony as the robot continued to talk.

“Yes…” It mused. “You’ll come together, and be beautiful, just like me.” Though its mouth only had so much capability to emote, Celeste could tell it was smiling. “Finally, my turn to play take apart and put back together!”

From her shoulders Celeste heard a horrendous ripping noise. That was the last thing she heard before she blacked out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What the…” Kenny McIntyre muttered, staring at the ajar door. He had returned to the Pizza Parlor to pack up the remaining animatronics- Fazbear Entertainment’s representative was arriving in a few days, after all.

He peered through the glass door. To his horror, he saw the Freddy and Bonnie robots lying on the floor, severely damaged.

“Crap!” He cursed. “Someone broke in!” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911.

“911, What’s your emergency?” The dispatcher answered.

“Uh, hi. I’m Kenny McIntyre, I own Freddy’s Pizza Parlor-”

“Are you freaking kidding me? What have your stupid animatronics done now?”

Kenny sighed. He was gaining a reputation. “No, no! Nothing like that. In fact, someone broke in and attacked the properly functioning models. Please, send someone to investigate.”

“Fine.” The voice answered. “But I can’t say I’m sad they’re gone.” The call abruptly ended.

“Crossing the line of professionalism a bit, huh?” Kenny deadpanned. “Don’t punish me, it’s not my fault they’re like this!”

Maybe not, said a nagging voice in the back of his head. But it’s your fault they’re here.

Kenny had no argument against that. He tried to distract himself, scanning the inside just to be sure no one was still lurking…

With this closer inspection, he saw something he hadn’t seen before- the equally brutalized Foxy animatronic.

“Wait…” Kenny realized. The animatronic endoskeleton wasn’t there. All that remained were pieces of its shell.

“Oh, no…” He whispered. “It’s…it’s free.”

Kenny threw open the door and ran inside, frantically searching for the robot. He didn’t see it- but he did see a dark red stain which snaked across the floor, leading into the Parlor’s arcade.

Stunned silent, Kenny slowly moved to peek around the corner. Just as he feared, there it was, walking free- the Mangle.

That’s what he called it anyway. When it was like this, it didn't feel right to call it Foxy. Mangle felt more appropriate, because that’s what it was- a twisted tangle of scrap, wire, and plastic, that seemed to take joy in its own deformities and madness.

He could hear it now, giggling and muttering in that creepy childlike voice. There were other noises that came from behind its form- squishing and crunching that seemed to be caused by its own movement. It was like it was building something.

Sweat dripped down Kenny’s brow. He had to leave, let the cops handle this.

He took a careful step backwards- crushing an abandoned soda cup beneath his foot.

The Mangle’s head turned completely around. Its glassy eyes widened as they recognized him. Strangely it looked afraid.

Before Kenny could even react, it scurried up onto the ceiling, and crawled right over and past him, into the backrooms.

Confused but relieved, Kenny turned back to where the Mangle had been working- and saw the thing that would fill his darkest nightmares for the rest of his life.

A mutilated form stood there, composed mainly of bone. Not any old bones, though- they were fresh, with tendons and veins still trailing off of them like ribbons. The body’s shape matched that of the Mangle- three legs, arms coming out of all the wrong places, and two heads. One of them was pure bone, a human looking skull that had been crushed and reshaped to appear more like an endoskeleton head. Brain material leaked out of its ear sockets and its removed eyeball. The other eye was clouded with blood. The main head was the real horror story, though. It appeared to be a patchwork of flesh, stitched together with hair. Skin had been plastered on, though many gaps revealed the red muscle and tissue that laid below. The grotesque structure had been designed in the likeness of the Mangle’s head, complete with ears that had been carved to end in sharp points, blood rubbed on the cheeks for blush, and a long, thin snout stuffed with human teeth and spindles of sharp bone.

The structure was too big to use only one skeleton- it seemed to be made of at least two. This had left a lot of extra parts, though- loose, leaking organs and scraps of clothing littered the ground around it.

Kenny screamed. He ran towards the back as tears ran down his face, yelling at the Mangle. “What have you done? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

From down the hall, a nervous voice answered. “They freed me. And I freed them- from their ugliness and their limitations. Though for some reason they seem to think themselves the prisoners now.”

Kenny stopped. “You- wait, what do you mean, NOW!?”

He turned back. The flesh Mangle was nowhere to be seen.

A drop of something red fell in front of his eyes. Slowly, he looked up.

It was there, hanging on the ceiling. The conglomeration of mutilated bodies dropped down on him, screaming, biting…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They were there, trapped in the dark, wet, bony mass. Two souls, who ruled their school and their town- now prisoners, serving out a never-ending sentence.

#fnaf #anthology #fazbear frights #five nights at freddy's #horror #cw: gore #mangle #body horrow cw #mangle fnaf

2 notes · View notes

bekoobove · 9 months

Text

Fazbear Fears #14: Find For Foxy

…Lane takes advantage of a new mobile game to keep his son busy while he works, but begins to notice strange events occurring around the house…

“Daaaaaad! I’m bored.”

Lane quickly muted himself in the video meeting as Eddie barged into his office. He glared at the energetic boy. “What do you want to do about that? I’m in the middle of a meeting.”

“Mom always plays games with me.”

“Well, Mom didn’t have to work!” Lane groaned. “Now she does. Please, leave. This is important.”

Eddie, deflated, left the room. As he did, Lane began to feel guilty about his overreaction. But what was he expected to do?

Lane had worked from home for years, but recently the family had run into some money troubles. His wife, Sara, had managed to get a job, and they were making ends meet now. Still, that left Lane to keep an eye on Eddie once he got home from school, which was no small task. The kid could barely keep his focus on anything- toys, books, video games- and needed to be constantly entertained. Lane couldn’t work and play at the same time, leaving both of them frustrated with the new arrangement.

Finally, the meeting ended, but Lane still had something to do. Apparently, the higher-ups wanted them to download some new communications app so they could stay up to date on projects.

“Seriously?” Lane muttered as he opened the app store. “I don’t want to have homework. If you can’t tell me during the workday, then how important…”

Lane trailed off as he noticed the app the store was featuring: some sort of mobile game featuring the character Foxy the Pirate Fox.

Seeing the character made Lane think of Eddie. He loved Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, and all the characters, but none more than Foxy. He’d even gotten mad when Fazbear Entertainment cut him from the new band in favor of some wolf character. It was for that reason that Eddie had no interest in going to their new, big attraction despite it being pretty close. Instead he preferred their small town’s Pizzeria which still prominently featured the scallywag fox playing the drums and telling tales from the high seas.

That train of thought led to another- Eddie had never been bored in the slightest by Foxy. Maybe this app could keep him entertained? Lane went to the app’s page for more detail. In the description, there was more information:

From the development team behind the Princess Quest Trilogy comes an exciting collaboration with Fazbear Entertainment: Find For Foxy, a unique AR experience!

Foxy may be the world’s greatest pirate, but now he needs your help on a new treasure hunt! Foxy will present you with a household item that you need to find. Once you do, scan it with your phone. Find enough items, and you could even win fun Freddy Fazbear prizes!

Download for free today! You’ll never be bored again!

Lane grinned. This sounded like exactly what he’d needed!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Argh, matey! It’s me, Foxy the Pirate Fox! Will you help me on the treasure hunting adventure of a lifetime?”

Eddie squealed with excitement as he looked at the phone he held in front of him. There, superimposed on the living room on the screen, was Foxy, dressed in his finest blue overcoat and pirate hat. Lane, looking over Eddie’s shoulder, was impressed- the AR blended with the real environment really well.

“That’s splendid!” Foxy said, the designers clearly having banked on excited kids responding to him. “The first thing you need to find is a chair! Scan it with your device, and I'll make sure it’s the right object.”

“Go on, bud.” Lane encouraged Eddie, nodding towards the nearby armchair.

“I’ll get it, Foxy!” Eddie cheered. He moved closer and focused the phone’s camera on the chair. The image on the screen lit up, and Foxy appeared in front of it.

“Well done, Matey! That’s a chair if I’ve ever seen one!” Foxy patted the chair with his hook.

“Now, it’s time to look forward, and choose the treasure that waits at the end of this hunt!”

A new screen popped up on the phone, revealing a list of missions. They were mostly the same, simply tasking the player with finding more objects depending on the quality of the prize. Eddie could win Faz-Coins and merch coupons, redeemable at any Fazbear Pizzeria.

Lane rolled his eyes. “Lure ‘em in with free stuff, and the kids demand you buy a bunch of other things in the game...” he muttered under his breath. He hid his annoyance and clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “What treasure are you gonna go for?”

Eddie gasped. “The Foxy Visit!” He selected the mission.

Lane looked at the screen and gasped. “You need to find five hundred things to win that prize. Are you sure?”

“Yeah! The Foxy Visit sounds great!”

Lane remembered a party they’d had at the restaurant once where they’d reserved a visit with Foxy. He supposed this was the same thing.

“Alright, bud.” Lane smiled. “It’ll take some time, but I know you can do it.”

Eddie and Lane heard the garage door rumbling open. “Sounds like Mom’s back from work. Let’s get some dinner ready, huh?”

Eddie agreed. When Sara walked through the door, Eddie was already so excited to tell her about Foxy talking to him.

Lane mentally patted himself on the back. He’d made the right choice.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next week was a busy one for Eddie and a peaceful one for Lane. Not only was he able to work without interruption, he had enough time to read and watch his shows. It seemed he’d have even more peaceful days, too.

Lane avoided talking to Eddie about the game too much (most conversations about it ended with incessant requests for a ten dollar skin for Foxy) but from what he understood, the hunts got harder as time went on. Now instead of chairs, he’d be asked to find a book with an animal in the title or a yellow flower. That’s right, some of the hunts even needed him to go outside. In one fell swoop, Lane had permanently ended Eddie’s boredom and made him get some fresh air! It was almost too good to be true.

On Sunday evening that week, Lane was feeling peckish. He decided to grab some Cheezy Squares, his favorite chips, from the pantry to snack on. But when he looked inside, he realized they weren’t there.

Eddie was coming down the stairs, and Lane shouted to him. “Hey, Eddie, did you finish off the Cheezy Squares?”

Eddie shook his head.

“Well, what happened to them, then? Mom doesn’t like them, so she didn’t eat them.”

“I don’t know.” Eddie scratched his head. “I haven’t seen them since this afternoon. I found them for Foxy, but I didn’t touch ‘em or anything.”

Lane chuckled. “Well, maybe Foxy ate them. I bet pirates love cheese.” He was a little disappointed, especially since he had to settle for some pretzels.

“Maybe I did something with them.” Lane thought to himself as he snacked on the salty twists. “I can sometimes be forgetful…”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“But not this much.” Lane stammered as he stared at the empty spot where his TV usually hung on the wall.

Things had been going missing all the time for the past few days. Books, kitchenware, food- they’d all disappeared without a trace. But this made it clear there was more to it than bad luck and a spotty memory.

“Aww, man.” Eddie groaned from the couch. “I wanted to watch the ninja show.”

Lane sighed. “Eddie, I don’t suppose you’ve seen it recently…” Lane braced for the answer he’d received at least two dozen times this week.

“I found it for Foxy.” Eddie explained. “But I’m not doing anything with them other than scanning with them, like I told you.”

“Yeah, sure.” Lane said, annoyed. He couldn’t truly be mad at Eddie, because his idea was ridiculous. It wasn’t like Eddie had actually been stuffing the missing objects in his phone or anything. But it felt like too much of a coincidence. “Listen, Eddie, Mom is getting scared. She’s worried people are breaking in, and I’m starting to feel the same way.”

“Breaking in to steal cups and Cheezy Squares?”

“Fair.” Lane admitted. “So you promise you don’t know about any of this?”

“Yeah, Dad. Geez.”

Lane took a deep breath. “Ok. I’m going upstairs to watch the TV in the bedroom. Go to bed soon, it’s almost 10:00.”

Lane trudged up the stairs in a daze. He pushed open his bedroom door, only to hear a strange noise: a rough scraping from above.

Lane slowly looked up. There was nothing directly above him- instead, it seemed to be coming from the attic.

Lane had always despised that place. Hardly the most mature fear a man could have, but who cared? To him, it was nothing more than a labyrinth of forgotten junk covered in cobwebs and dust.

“Maybe something just fell?” He desperately tried to convince himself. Nope- the scraping continued, and it seemed to be moving.

Heart racing, Lane walked over to the trapdoor, on the ceiling near Eddie’s room. He pulled the cord, opening the door and causing the retractable ladder to shoot towards him. It hit the floor with a BANG. The scraping stopped, and there was the new noise of an enormous CRASH- like now something had fallen.

As he began to climb, Lane called out. “Hey! If you’re up there, show yourself.” He tried to sound threatening, but struggled to keep the panic out of his voice.

He gripped the attic’s wooden floor and pulled himself through the hole. Above him, there was another cord, this one for the light. Hands shaking, he turn it on, looking to where he’d heard the crash-

And saw a pile of random stuff. Confused, he looked around the musty room. There was no sign of an intruder or a break in.

Eventually he focused back on the pile, and realized something. The objects were the things that had gone missing all week.

It was the box of Cheezy Squares that first alerted him to this, crumpled under the weight of all the other items. A few cups came loose from the pile, and rolled down it. An umbrella, a fireplace poker, and a rusty shovel poked from the mass. There were items that seemed to have come from outside- dried up leaves and plants, an old dirty baseball, and even a small frog, which looked dead. And, sitting on top, the most recent addition to this bizarre collection, the TV.

From behind him, Lane could hear someone else coming up the ladder. He turned to see Eddie. “Dad, I heard the crash, what’s- woah, what is all that stuff?”

In a rage, Lane turned and grabbed Eddie by the shoulders. “Oh, don’t play dumb! You know what this is. This is all the stuff you ‘found’ for Foxy.”

Eddie looked at the pile. “Well, yeah, I guess. How did it get up here?”

“Clearly you put everything here!” Lane yelled right in Eddie’s face. “You thought you needed to steal stuff for that Foxy Visit, because you’re a dumb kid who can’t go ten minutes without messing something up!”

Tears formed in Eddie’s eyes. “B-but I didn’t do it. How could I move a huge TV?”

“Don’t know, so how about you tell me! It couldn’t have been anyone else.” He spotted Eddie’s phone hanging out of his pocket, and snatched it from him.

“What are you doing?” Eddie gasped.

“I’m deleting this stupid app! It’s messing with your head.” Lane held his finger on the app until the X icon appeared in the corner. He pressed it, preparing to watch the app blink out of existence.

Instead, there was a strange popup: Error: Action Failed.

Confused, Lane clicked on the X a few more times, but kept receiving the same popup. Trying to sound unbothered to Eddie, he said, “Well, until we can fix whatever’s wrong with this, you can’t have this phone.”

“But Dad!” Eddie begged. “I’ve almost earned the Foxy Visit! I just need to find one more item.”

“Well then you shouldn’t have ripped our TV out of the wall.” Calming down a little, Lane tried to reason with him. “If you really wanted to visit Foxy at the Pizzeria, you could have just asked. We might’ve taken you.”

Eddie quieted for a moment before speaking. “But Dad, the prize isn’t us visiting Foxy. It’s Foxy visiting us.”

Lane stared, suddenly creeped out. “What do you mean- like in a private party room?”

Without answering, Eddie turned, walked over to the trapdoor, and climbed back down the ladder. Within seconds, Lane could hear him climbing into his bed and flicking the light off.

Lane gazed at the phone, at the app, with its icon of Foxy grinning roguishly. He’d never noticed just how sharp the character’s teeth were.

Lane left the attic, closing the trapdoor behind him (he’d bring all the junk down tomorrow). When he returned to his bedroom, he tucked the phone away in a drawer. Exhausted, he fell into bed beside his already snoring wife, and was overcome by sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lane jolted awake. He swore he’d heard a noise.

He turned to look at the digital alarm clock on his bedside table. In glowing green numbers, it read 11:18.

As he rubbed his eyes, Lane stumbled out of bed and stubbed his toe on something. “Arghhh- crap!” he said reflexively, trying to be as quiet as possible. He looked down, and realized he’d hit a drawer that’d been pulled out of the dresser.

It was the one he’d stored the phone in, and it was missing.

Lane growled. “Eddie, I know you took it!” He stumbled out of their bedroom, scanning the hall outside it for the boy. “I don’t care about your stupid Foxy quest, all that matters is that you’re in big trouble!”

Sure enough, the phone sat on the ground, its screen still glowing. But Eddie was nowhere in sight.

Growing worried, Lane kneeled down and picked up the phone. Foxy was congratulating the player for finding a box of tissues- and the one that normally sat on a nearby table was missing.

“Argh, matey!” the fox cheered. “Ye found all 500 items, and so ye won the treasure. I’m on my way over right now! This visit will be fun- you’ll never be bored again!”

From behind him, Lane heard a crash. He turned to see the attic trap door had slammed open, and the ladder fell out. Then, another object fell from the hole- a box of tissues.

“Is that you up there? Eddie?” Lane called out- a call that represented his last hope, that everything was normal and the family was safe.

A hope that was quickly shut down.

A tidal wave of junk- all the found items- came tumbling down from the attic. But the objects weren’t content to slouch into another harmless pile- no, they began shifting, twisting around each other, creating an oversized, beastly form.

A black goo bled out from the objects, acting as a glue to hold the horrifying creature together. Finally, the groaning and shifting stopped, and the new junk monster was complete. Appropriately, it resembled Foxy- if Foxy was a couple of fox animatronics torn to pieces and put back together again in a nine-foot tall display of mechanical horror. The mass stumbled forwards on several skinny legs, waving its hooks and arms at Lane. It had at least two heads he could see, which gnashed their teeth formed of sharp pencils, needles, and small knives.

From one of its mouths, a gravelly, grinding version of Foxy’s usually cheerful voice spoke. “YER OL’ PAL FOXY’S HERE, MATEY! THANKS FOR ALL THIS RAW MATERIAL, I’LL MAKE THE MOST OF IT!”

Horrified, Lane stuttered. “W-where’s Eddie? What did you do with Eddie?”

The junk Foxy was silent until it was within a foot of him, cornering him against a wall. Eventually it answered: “NOT YOUR PLACE TO KNOW, SCALLYWAG. BUT I CAN PROMISE YOU THIS- HE’LL NEVER BE BORED AGAIN. AND NEITHER WILL YOU!”

In one sudden movement, it wrapped its jaw around Lane’s neck. For a moment, just a moment, Lane felt the cold black ooze dripping from its mouth and fangs. He wondered what it was.

There was a horrific CRUNCH, and it was GAME OVER.

#fnaf #anthology #fazbear frights #five nights at freddy's #horror #foxy fnaf

2 notes · View notes

bekoobove · 10 months

Text

Fazbear Fears #13: In Too Deep

…Stephen finally gets to make the RPG of his dreams without corporate interference, but a different force is altering things behind the scenes…

As the video call began, Stephen put on his most polite smile.

‘What are they going to ask me for this time?’ he thought bitterly.

The screen lit up, showing the only other person in the call: Jonathan Klein, head of Public Relations at Fazbear Entertainment. He grinned back at Stephen.

“Mr Hawthorne! It’s a pleasure to see you again. Great job on Five Nights at Fazbear’s 4 so far, I’m really liking how it’s coming together.”

“Thank you, Mr Klein. The pleasure is all mine, really; your funding has helped me to try something different.”

“Well, if you’re in the mood to make something even more different, the company has a new project for you.”

Stephen groaned internally. This is what he’d been afraid of. Would he be trapped by this franchise forever?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had all started about two years ago. Stephen and his family had been on a road trip through Utah, and stopped in a small town overnight. Bored, they’d gone to the town’s local history museum, expecting it to be little more than a collection of dusty relics from the pioneering days.

However, there was a strange exhibit- an exhibit based on Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. Apparently, this town was where the first one had been founded, and it was a source of local pride. There were lots of objects from there- menus, animatronics parts, old arcades…

But what really intrigued Stephen was the recreation of the building’s old security office. Apparently, poor security guards working the night shift had been forced to watch through a camera system and use electromagnetic doors to fend off intruders- or malfunctioning animatronics.

Stephen had heard those rumors about the restaurants’ robots, and they always fascinated him. As returned to their motel room that day, an idea sparked in his mind- create a terrifying game designed to simulate that experience.

It had been quite different from his previous work, but the concept was so eerily fun that he made it work. He released it, hoping for a few people to enjoy it.

To his surprise, though, it was more like a few thousand. Within a day, his game was one of the most popular on the website!

But that attracted some unwanted attention.

Fazbear Entertainment emailed him one day, and Stephen, bracing for a defamation lawsuit, opened it. However, what they offered was an agreement- create more games, and he’d receive funding and help releasing them on a bigger scale. They only had two conditions- the agreement must remain secret, and they had the final say about anything he made.

It was then he made the dumbest choice he’d ever made- agreeing.

Now he was forced to keep creating the Five Nights at Fazbear games. He’d only completed two more so far, but he had the feeling it was just the beginning. When he inquired about calling the deal off, the company had hinted that his fear of a lawsuit would be confirmed.

So here he was. Stuck, forced to continue making these games for however long Fazbear Entertainment wished. He’d give everything to make something different… ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As it turned out, he didn’t have to give anything at all.

“Any kind of game I want?!” Stephen gasped in disbelief.

“As long as it features the characters but isn’t horror, have at it. Oh, and make it really goofy- no depth at all. May I suggest a pizzeria simulator or a side-scroller beat-em-up?”

“I know what I’m making.” Stephen smiled- a real one this time. “A party-based RPG.”

Jonathan considered this. “Hm, yeah, that could work. I think you’ve really got something. Take a few days to come up with some concepts, we’ll meet in another call.”

“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down!”

The call ended. Stephen eagerly ran out of his office, and found his wife Carmen reading a book on the sofa.

“Honey, honey. It finally happened! Fazbear Entertainment is letting me make my own RPG!”

She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Chipper’s Lumber Quest?”

“No- well, sort of. They’re letting me make whatever kind of game I want, and I’m going to adapt Chipper’s Lumber Quest for the Fazbear brand. It’ll take some time remodeling all the characters, but just think about it. The game I’ve always wanted to make will be released for the whole world to play!”

Carmen smiled, but seemed nervous. “Stephen, dear…are you sure it’s that simple? We know Fazbear Entertainment is hardly the most honest company. Are you sure they’ll really let you make it?”

Stephen was barely listening, though. He’d already practically skipped back to his office to dig through his notes and make some sketches.

Carmen laughed a little. “Well, at least he’s happy.” She returned to her book.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, Stephen.” Jonathan said. “How’s development on the RPG coming along?”

“Great!” Stephen answered enthusiastically. It had only been a few weeks, but when Stephen was excited about a project, he got to work fast. “I’ve designed most of the player characters, bosses, and NPCs. Right now I’m trying to figure out each character’s moveset.”

“Awesome.” Jonathan replied. “By the way, I showed the Nightmare Bonnie model from 4 to our source. Apparently, it needs whiskers.”

“Whiskers? Normal Bonnie doesn’t have whiskers.”

“An old animatronic model did. Don’t know why it’s based on that one, but I don’t care. Think it could look cool.”

Ah, Fazbear Entertainment’s mysterious source. As part of their agreement, Fazbear Entertainment had gotten into contact with an old security guard. Whoever they were, they had a lot of knowledge about the old pizzerias, especially the animatronics and security setups. Since then they’d been feeding Stephen information through Jonathan about how to make the games more accurate. Stephen often wondered about them- what had they faced those lonely nights while they worked? Had their experiences truly been similar to his games?

“Stephen? Stephen, did you get that about the whiskers?”

Shaken out of his thoughts, Stephen hastily responded. “Wha- oh, yeah. I’ll add those.”

There came a knock at the door. Stephen shot a hold on gesture to Jonathan and looked out his office’s window, onto the porch. A cardboard package was being deposited by a postal worker, plain except for a Fazbear Entertainment logo.

“Hey, what’d you guys send me?” Stephen asked, confused.

“Oh, it arrived.” Jonathan began to explain. “That box is filled with some old stuff that could help your RPG’s production. There’s some old voice boxes with character speech, and circuit boards from classic Freddy Fazbear arcades. We want there to be some references to some old-fashioned video games, from the good old days.”

Stephen quickly walked to his house’s door, and picked the box off the porch. After returning to the office, he quickly tore the package open and looked inside. Sure enough, it was stuffed with circuit boards and other small techy-whatsits.

“There’s definitely some usable code on those boards, so I’ll be sure to scan that in.” Stephen affirmed. He picked one circuit up and examined it, realizing the edges looked burned and melted. “Hey, where’d you get them from anyway?”

“Remember Fazbear’s Fright?”

“That security attraction FNAF 3 was based on that burned down a couple of years ago?”

“Right. These were salvaged from the building’s remains and were sold at an auction a few months later. Fazbear Entertainment snatched up this stuff from it.”

Stephen chuckled. “Y’know, for a company that’s trying to rebrand for the modern age, you guys put a lot of work into remembering the past.”

There was an awkward moment of silence. “Uh, yeah.” Jonathan answered. “By the way, if you see any…unusual glitches resulting from the boards, just patch them quickly. Don’t get in too deep is all I’m saying. Ok?”

“Ok, Mr Klein.” Stephen promised

A few technical discussions later, their call was over, and Stephen returned to his work. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following week, Stephen began scanning the arcade circuit boards. He had some advanced software on his computer that allowed him to load the old games, and he got straight to work remaking them in Fazbear Adventure World. It was a varied bunch- Chica’s Rainbow Rampage, Dee-Dee’s Fishing Hole, Foxy Fighters, and Freddy In Space. Stephen had a good time with these- enjoying both integrating them into the game and reminiscing on when he’d played these at his city’s old Freddy’s.

One day Stephen smiled, having completed his play test of Foxy Fighters. “Another mini-game done!” he cheered. He grabbed the box from below his desk and rooted around in it, hoping to find another circuit board. He did, and pulled it out.

It looked a little older than the others- Stephen guessed the mid-eighties to the others’ early nineties. He scanned it quickly, curious what 8-bit adventures were formed by its code.

A select screen came up, revealing this was a collection of mini-games. Stephen clicked through them. They were called BB’s Air Adventure, Mangle’s Quest, Chica’s Party and Stage 01. Stephen scratched his head. He’d never heard of any of these.

Suddenly, Stephen realized there was one more minigame in the file. He selected it, and his screen lit up with a fuzzy red light.

His bear avatar was in a clearing, bordered on all sides by crimson pine trees. A similarly red lake sat at the center of the clearing. The space was otherwise empty, save for a single sprite sitting on a rock, casting a fishing line into the lake. The sprite’s species was vague, its only identifiable feature a large mouth filled with blocky teeth- an alligator, maybe?

Unlike the others, the software didn’t register a game title. It also didn’t give any clarification of how to play or who this strange character was- though it’d probably never graced a pizzeria’s stage.

Stephen was unnerved. The game was eerily silent, adding to the empty feeling. Eventually he figured out how to move his character around, and walked towards the sprite.

Without it even moving, it began to speak to him through text on the screen.

“My name is Old Man Consequences. Come have a seat, and let’s fish for a while. You have no where else to go.”

It had nothing else to say. Stephen, confused, shut off his computer. “I don’t think I’ll be adding these minigames.” He made a note to himself. “There’s just something weird about them.”

From the kitchen, he heard Carmen calling that dinner was ready. He eagerly left the office, hoping for meatloaf.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stephen looked down at his body. It was a strange mass of sharp corners that vaguely formed a primitive body. It glowed red, just like everything around him.

The red glow didn’t look electric, though. It was more like light reflecting off of a shiny red substance that coated the trees- a substance that seemed to be flowing…

With a start, Stephen realized it was blood- shiny rivulets that poured down the trees from an unknown source.

Panicked, Stephen looked around, trying to scream for help. But he had no mouth to scream with.

Eventually he forced his twisted body to move. Slowly he inched forward, until he was at the bank of the red lake.

It was also full of blood, but there were other strange sprites just visible beneath the opaque surface. A silhouette of a child holding a balloon, a grid of four squares, several roundish blobs with slit eyes, the outline of a box, and a bunny figure. All of them swirled aimlessly beneath the surface, as if looking for their proper place.

From across the lake, Stephen noticed a figure- Old Man Consequences. It began to speak again.

“My name is Old Man Consequences. Come have a seat, and let’s fish for a while. You have no where else to go.”

It seemed to become stuck on the line, repeating it several more times. With each repetition, the bloody reflections grew brighter and brighter, until Stephen’s vision was consumed by the blinding light…

Stephen gasped as he opened his eyes. He looked around in a panic, and realized he was in his bedroom.

“Oh, right.” Stephen muttered. “I went to sleep.”

All else was normal. Carmen laid next to him, snoring a little. The quiet hum of their ceiling fan invertebrates from above. The clock on the wall ticked the seconds away.

So why did he still feel so uncomfortable? Without an explanation, Stephen settled back into bed, and hoped for dreamless sleep. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a restless night and a good breakfast, Stephen entered his office ready to resume work on the game. Before he did, though, he decided to delete the minigames from yesterday. Logically it wasn’t like they could hurt him, but he’d be happier with them gone regardless.

Stephen pulled up the file where he’d kept the circuit board data, and was surprised to see all five mini-games were gone.

“But how?” Stephen asked himself. “Did the kids mess around with my computer?”

Eventually, Stephen tried to shrug it off and opened the file for the RPG, ready to get back to work. To his surprise, though, the minigames had entered this file. All four seemed to have merged with the game’s main code.

Alarmed, Stephen tried to delete them. For some reason, though, he couldn’t even remove them from the file.

The day was spent experimenting, trying everything possible to untangle the games’ codes, but nothing worked. Finally, he had a new, desperate idea: hide the mini-games deep within the code.

And he did, burying them beneath the game’s surface. Stephen was still worried about getting in trouble, though: Fazbear Entertainment had asked for a secret-free, innocent game, but now anyone who searched the files would find creepy 8-bit mini-games. Still, maybe they would be perceived as just easter eggs rather than something more. He put in the most work hiding the Old Man Consequences game, since it was too weird and creepy to be considered just a reference.

By the time Carmen called him for dinner, he was exhausted. He’d never felt so helpless to fix a problem in any of his games. In a daze, he walked out, hoping tomorrow would be better. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t, and neither were the next few months. Stephen continued to dream of Old Man Consequence’s lake- while they were never quite as complete a vision as the first, glowing bloody trees and that cursed no where else to go line were frequent guests in his slumbering mind. And things were hardly better during the day either.

Whatever these games were, they were more than mere intruders. Gradually, they had begun to alter the RPG, primarily the feature called the sub-tunnels. Stephen had designed them as simple shortcuts throughout the game, both for himself and to reward the curious player. But the tunnels had changed- growing and shifting like roots beneath the earth. They began bugging out certain characters, and spawning twisted versions of them in the glitchy halls. What Stephen had designed as a simple cheat had become a bizarre, labyrinthian underworld that he couldn’t do anything to stop, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. He spent at least twelve hours each day staring at his computer, trying to finish the normal game while desperately covering up his mistakes. Stephen barely ate, and hardly saw his family. It was exhausting- even play testing the sub-tunnels caused his mind to flash with memories from the lake. It was really starting to feel true, what Old Man Consequences had said- he had no where else to go.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One night, Stephen awoke suddenly. He didn’t know why- he hadn’t had another nightmare.

Still, thoughts of his game and the lake filled his tired head. He didn’t know why, but he felt like something was going wrong- even more wrong- with the game.

He couldn’t place this bizarre feeling, but he felt it strongly enough that he began to crawl out of bed. The floorboards creaked beneath his feet, causing Carmen to wake up as well.

Wiping her eyes, she rolled her head to look at him. “Stephen…dear…where are you going?”

Stephen hesitated. “Oh, honey. I was just going to check on something downstairs.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to mess with the game?” she asked in a tone tinged both with annoyance and worry.

Stephen sighed. “Yes- look, I just feel like I need to make sure it’s alright. I’ll be back up within a minute.

“Stephen, I don’t understand. I get there’s a lot of pressure from the company, but you’ve never been like this before. You’ve always made time for me and the boys- my God, the boys. They’ve been wanting to play the game for weeks, but you keep saying they can’t. Why have you grown so distant?”

Stephen sat on the edge of the bed, overwhelmed. “Carmen…I’m sorry. It’s just- ever since we first saw that Freddy Fazbear exhibit, before I even made the game or got involved with Fazbear Entertainment or anything, I’ve felt like there was something more- like I was standing on the edge of something huge. Those murders, the animatronics, the legends- everything felt like part of a greater puzzle I couldn’t understand. I don’t know how, but I think Fazbear Adventure World has become a part of that. I know this has been rough on the family, but I promise whatever the truth is, I’m finishing this tonight. You just have to trust me that everything will be ok.”

After a moment of silence, Carmen responded. “Fine. I hope you find what you’re looking for, Stephen.” She gave a tired, worried smile. “See you in the morning.”

Stephen silently left the room and went downstairs. He entered his office and quickly booted up the game.

An hour passed while Stephen tried to make sense of everything. Very little resulted from this time. Stephen could feel himself falling asleep, but kept himself awake, remembering his promise that he’d finish this by morning.

After a particularly close call, Stephen shook himself back awake, rubbing his eyes. To his surprise, though, the code that he’d been looking at a moment ago had disappeared. Instead there was just a black screen, empty except for a single red sprite floating in the middle- Old Man Consequences.

The sprite was blinking more than it ever had, almost like it was calling him to click on it.

Stephen stared unsure at it. Should he? Something about it filled his whole being with dread.

But he also knew this was the only way to solve the mystery and truly understand everything. So, he moved his mouse over the crimson, pixelated blob, and clicked.

“I’m sorry to say that you have gone too deep into the code. There is no way back out…My name is Old Man Consequences. Come have a seat, and let’s fish for a while. You have no where else to go.”

Stephen opened his eyes and looked around. He was at the lake again, but something had changed. It felt more real, more all-encompassing than ever before.

He stood right next to Old Man Consequences, who’s apology/invitation had awoken him. He tried to elicit a reaction from the sprite, waving his hand in front of it, but it didn’t react.

Wait a minute…the body Stephen was in right now wasn’t that of the bear sprite- it was his own. A blank, monochromatic version, lacking any details, but his body in the game regardless.

Stephen tried to wake himself up. When that failed, he searched the field, trying to step between the trees that bordered it. He might as well have been trying to phase through a brick wall.

Old Man Consequences began repeating his last piece of dialogue again, as if trying to drill the words into Stephen’s skull.

“You have no where else to go.”

It was maddening- and worse, it was true. Stephen was trapped.

His darting eyes landed on the lake. Months before, Stephen had seen things in its depths. Maybe beneath its red waters lay a way out of this place. He walked over to its banks.

“There is no way back out.” Old Man Consequences droned as he cast his line.

Stephen glared as much as he could at the sprite. He braced himself, and jumped into the l̴̪̀̊̋͆͊̉̓́a̴̳̞̫̺̜̽͜k̴͙̞̦̐̾̈́̃͋̍͝ḛ̴̰̱͖̖̘̠̰̂̍́͠͝ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fazbear Adventure World received quite middling reviews. While it had its fans, who praised it for being a unique, goofy take on the franchise, most agreed it was at best flawed. One of the more common complaints was its lack of polish- it seemed somewhat unfinished.

It wasn’t like Fazbear Entertainment had many options, though. Stephen had a very unique style in both his design and his gameplay. After he had mysteriously disappeared one night, the company had tried to keep up the illusion it was still his work (no one could know about the company’s involvement in his games, after all), but struggled. Eventually, they released it under his name- an incomplete version of what could have been.

Stephen’s computer equipment and notes had been taken, locked away in the company archives. His family had protested, but the threat of devastating lawsuits kept them quiet.

The archives were high security- only Fazbear’s top brass could enter.

Or anyone willing to break a window and pick a few locks, like the man entering the dark corridors now.

Soon enough, he found Stephen’s computer tucked behind some old posters. He also found one of Stephen’s notes, which was some advice from the company’s ‘source.’

The man grimaced. “I’m sorry, Stephen. I never meant you to get wrapped up in any of my problems. I hope my suggestions were helpful, at least.”

He stuck a flash drive into the computer, and began downloading the original Fazbear Adventure World program. Interestingly, it also downloaded the original FNAF 3 program.

“Guess the pieces of this puzzle couldn’t be contained in one game, huh?” the man chuckled bitterly. “When I did this for real, it didn’t end quite how I wanted it to. But maybe now I have a chance for a better ending- for all of us.”

The programs were fully downloaded into the drive. The man pulled it out, stuck it into his pocket, and stealthily made his way out of the archives.

This story is outdated lore-wise, but I still think it's good enough to post.

#fnaf #anthology #fazbear frights #five nights at freddy's #horror #fnaf world #old man consequences

1 note · View note

bekoobove · 10 months

Text

Fazbear Fears #12: Let's Eat!

...Lisa finally gets the pizzeria party she’s wanted for years, and even gets to be the first to try out the establishment’s latest animatronic attraction...

Lisa thought she was too old for Freddy’s, but she had to admit- it was a lot of fun. Besides, better late than never.

Her birthday parties had always been kind of lame before. Breaker’s Ridge, her hometown, was hardly a children’s paradise. The only real entertainment around here was the mini golf course on the edge of town, and she’d already had two parties there. All the rest had been at her house, and that got old, quick.

But last year, a Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria opened! Well, sort of. Her mom had pointed out some odd things about the restaurant- a different logo, no company branding- and suggested it was some sort of knock-off. That didn’t make much difference to Lisa, though. The arcade games, pizza, and animatronics were real enough. She’d heard these restaurants were basically kid paradises, and she hadn’t been proven wrong yet.

Arcade games buzzed and flashed, occasionally spitting out tickets to the cheers of the children playing. Colorful lights swept across the audience enjoying their pizza, as they watched the animatronic performers- a bear, a bunny, and a fox- dance and sing.

The animatronics were incredible, though they definitely looked a little weird. All of them had a dollish look about them, with exaggerated eyelashes and plastic blush that resembled nothing more than shiny pepperoni slapped on their cheeks. Still, their creepiness was dwarfed by their movements, which almost made them look alive.

One thing did confuse Lisa, though. The advertisement for the pizzeria (oh, sorry- “Freddy’s Pizza Parlor”) featured four animatronics. The one missing from the stage was the chicken- Chica, Lisa believed, was the name of the official version.

Lisa rounded up her friends and asked if they had seen it. Bella, Jake, Logan and Maya all confirmed they hadn’t.

“And hey, didn’t your parents say we’d get cupcakes?” Logan complained.

“I can resolve both of your concerns.” a man proclaimed as he approached them. He was a middle aged, tired looking fellow, wearing a name badge that identified him as Kenny McIntyre. “With the birthday package your parents got you, you get to make your own cupcakes in Chica’s Cooking Class!”

“What’s that?” Maya asked, intrigued.

Mr McIntyre pointed over to a door next to the stage, which was decorated with a picture of Chica in a chef hat. “It’s a new little attraction.” He explained. “Chica will guide you through decorating cupcakes.”

Lisa marveled. “That’s really cool!”

“Oh, yes. And when I say it’s new, I mean it- you’ll be the first customers to try it! Anyway, whenever you guys want to begin, just let me-”

“NOW!” Jake and Logan proclaimed. While Lisa probably wouldn’t have been so blunt, she felt the same way. “Yeah, I think we can start now.” She confirmed.

“Alright.” Mr McIntyre laughed. “You head back there, I’ll get her up and running.”

He hesitated. “Oh, and by the way, please don’t touch her. These animatronics are kind of...sensitive. Give her space, and you should be fine.”

Mr McIntyre wandered off towards the back, gesturing the kids towards the door one more time. The five eagerly followed his direction, and rushed inside.

Beyond the door, there was a room resembling a kitchen. The only part of it that was real was a white, semicircular counter with five chairs, plain cupcakes and frosting pipers at each spot. The wall was painted with a cartoony diorama of a pizzeria’s kitchen. And behind the counter a plastic Chica stood, still and lifeless.

As the kids approached, it suddenly sprang into motion, cocking its head at them expectantly as it began to speak.

“Hello kids! My name is Chica! Which one of you is the birthday girl?” Chica chirped in an enthusiastic tone.

“It- it’s me. I’m Lisa.” Lisa responded, a little startled..

“Awesome, LISA. Today, we will be making Chica’s special cupcakes!”

“Mmmm…” Jake mumbled. He was eating the frosting.

“Let’s not waste any time and start assembling these delicious treats!” Chica exclaimed with a girlish smile.

Within a few minutes, their work was nearly done. Lisa’s cupcake was coming together nicely, the other girls’ looked beautiful, and the guys’... well, those were probably edible. After some careful piping, Lisa’s was done and it looked alright. Logan’s frosting was watery and dripping. Jake’s cupcake was a mountain of pink.

“Ok, kids!” Chica says with a twitch of her head. “One more thing-- decoration!”

The guys groaned. The girls cheered. Lisa swore she had the most stereotypical friends on Earth.

In her hand she held some bags. She laid them out on the counter.

“Um… what are they?” Lisa asked nervously.

The bag contained eyes and teeth made of fondant. They looked a little strange, though. Someone had gone to the trouble to make tiny red markings on the eyes like veins. The teeth were even weirder- instead of just being squares of sticky sugar, they were carved like real teeth, with little bumps and sharp roots.

“Have you never seen my friend Mr Cupcake? We’re decorating our cupcakes to look like miniature versions of him! How fun is that?!”

“Uh, sounds great…” Lisa laughed a little nervously. Truth is, though, she was freaked out. Lisa had always been a little squeamish about teeth. Maybe she just associated them with the dentist- a place stuffed full of blinding lights and prodding tools.

The other kids had no such qualms, and quickly completed their cupcakes. As they stuck the eyes into the frosting, the cupcakes began to look like Chica's iconic friend.

Lisa followed their lead, before flashing a nervous glance at the teeth. Who the heck made fun cake decorations like that?

Silently, she swept them off the counter, onto the ground. She didn’t want the others to think she was a wuss, but she sure as heck didn’t want those bone-white bits on her cupcake.

“Alright kids! Remember, you can eat the WHOLE cupcake! Even the decorations are edible!” Chica exclaimed.

Jake and Logan ate their cupcakes whole. Maya and Bella, a little more restrained, finished theirs off in two bites. Lisa followed, a little hesitant.

The cupcake was delicious! Lisa laughed with relief as she gobbled the rest of it up. She’d been too paranoid.

“Well, kids, I hope you enjoyed your cupcakes. Now, if you’d be so kind as to stick around for about ten minutes, I’ll have a special surprise for you in store!”

Jake frowned. “That manager guy didn’t say anything about that.”

“Why would he? That’d spoil the surprise!” Chica suddenly shut down, the light leaving her eyes.

Bella raised an eyebrow. “Should we...wait?’

“At least a few minutes.” Lisa suggested.

And so they did. All stared at the dormant robot, occasionally piping more tasty frosting into their mouths. Time passed, and eventually Lisa stood up. “Eh, I’m bored. C’mon, let’s go back to the arcade.”

The others didn’t seem so keen on the idea, though. Jake and Bella were crumpled over, clutching their stomachs, moaning. Maya and Logan didn’t look much better.

Jake burped. “Ugh...feels like I ate a couple rocks.”

“You guys need me to get my parents?”

“No, no.” Maya groaned. “We’ll be fine. Just go, enjoy your birthday.”

Unsure, Lisa agreed. “Alright...just come find me if it gets much worse.” She left Chica’s Cooking Class.

Finding her cup of tokens, she moved to an arcade cabinet. She played the game- something about finding the bunny character’s hiding spots. To be honest, she couldn’t pay too much attention. Lisa was worried about her friends.

GAME OVER blared from the curved screen. Lisa groaned, and snatched the paltry few tickets pouring out of the slot.

She turned back towards the door. Y’know, it was weird…she couldn’t hear anything at all from within.

Suddenly, she felt a gurgling in her stomach. “Crud…” she mumbled as it got worse.

She spotted the bathroom- two doors, the boys’ marked with Freddy’s cartoon face and the girls’ with that same Chica insignia minus the chef’s hat. Lisa ran over, throwing open the entrance to the girls’. She stumbled over to a stall, positioned her mouth over the toilet, and-

“BLEGHHHHHH!” A stream of vomit cascaded from her mouth, filling the relatively clean waters of the toilet with half-digested food.

Panting, Lisa wiped her mouth. “Was there something wrong with those cupcakes?”

She glared down at the mess she’d made, preparing to flush it, but something caught her eye.

And she caught its.

Two beady, blue eyes stared up at her- whole and undigested. They pulsated with reddish-black veins which came together behind the eye, forming a stringy optic nerve.

Lisa gasped, horrified at the tiny whitish spheres. In a panic, she flushed the toilet, sending them spiraling down in a swirl of dirty water.

She sighed with relief as they faded out of sight. “Where did those things come from?! I didn’t-”

Lisa stopped dead. “Oh, no…”

Even faster than she’d entered, she sprinted out of the bathroom. A kid walked in front of her, eating a slice of pizza, but she pushed him aside. She didn’t stop, despite his protests.

She slammed into the Cooking Class door, pushing it open. Lisa dashed inside, hoping her worst fears weren’t to be confirmed.

They weren’t.

It was much worse.

All four of her friends were splayed out on the checkered black-and-white ground, though a new color had recently been added- thick rivulets of red blood pouring out of all their stomachs, staining the floor.

Bones and organs were exposed by the gaping holes. All of their faces were frozen, in a horrifying scream of agony.

Lisa was silent, unable to do anything but stare at the nightmarish, gory display before her. The only thing she was able to say was, “Wh-why couldn’t I hear them? Why did no one hear them?”

“Because, LISA, this whole room is soundproof.”

Chica rose up from behind the counter, but she was different. Her plastic skin had been given a splattering of blood, especially her lower half. Her head had also transformed- somehow, she’d ripped out her small beak, leaving an empty black smile behind. Her eyes had gone from sky blue to pure black, dotted with pinpricks of white.

“This was originally a repair room for us robots. The manager made it so the tools and tests couldn’t be heard in the main room. Lucky for me he didn’t take that out, right?”

Chica’s tone was mockingly jovial and friendly. Lisa gaped, overwhelmed by rage and fear.

“Unfortunately, not everyone could be so cooperative.” Chica shook her head as she opened her hand to reveal some fondant teeth- the ones Lisa had dropped.

“My pretty little friends are quite useless without a good set of chompers.” Chica sighed. “Why didn’t you just put them on your cake? It would have made this whole thing a lot easier.”

“Friends?” Lisa stammered.

As if on cue, her own friend’s bodies began to pulsate and shake- and with a visceral SPLURT, something small burst out of each one.

They were horrific little abominations in the shape of the cupcakes they’d made. Their disturbing bodies were a marbled mix of chewed up cake and flesh torn from stomach linings. Their mucus-coated bodies glistened along with their humanlike, wet eyes. One clear difference between these things and the one that had been forming in Lisa’s own stomach- they had teeth. The bloodied white bones protruded from a rift right where the frosting began. They remained disturbingly human, if a bit sharper and crooked.

None of them moved towards her, seeming content to guard their own territory. Chica gave Lisa a twisted grin. “Like them? You’re probably sad you didn’t get one of your own, but don’t worry.”

She raised her arm, revealing a plate that held another flesh cupcake. It gnashed its awful teeth.

“I always bake an extra!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kenny left the Secure Room, locking the door behind himself. He was glad he’d sprung for the soundproofing, as it drowned out Balloon Boy’s maddening laughter.

He had to go in everyday, to make sure that evil robot didn’t escape. It was his least favorite part of the day, because it forced him to stare at that mechanical abomination, covered in the blood of one of his best friends.

As Kenny returned to the main area, he pulled out the advertisement he’d printed out earlier and pondered it again.

HAVE YOU COME ACROSS VINTAGE ANIMATRONIC AND ARCADE ATTRACTIONS? FAZBEAR ENTERTAINMENT IS WILLING TO PAY BIG FOR THEM! ALL PART OF THE REJUVENATION INITIATIVE- USING PIECES OF THE PAST TO BUILD A BETTER FUTURE!

Kenny sighed. He’d always wanted to run an establishment like this, could he really just sell the miracle animatronics he’d simply stumbled upon? After all, Balloon Boy was the only one that was messed up, right?

Screams sounded from near the stage, including one belonging to a young girl.

“Oh, no…” Kenny rushed over.

The girl- she was the birthday kid, Lisa, right?- was stumbling backwards out of Chica’s Cooking Class, trying to pry some fleshy, toothy…thing off her face, which was shrieking with delight. Kenny and the nearby customers only got a glimpse inside the door before it swung shut, but it was long enough to see the mutilated corpses of several children, and hear the now broken Chica animatronic giggling as it watched her scream.

A man (Lisa’s father, Kenny later found out) ran for Lisa. He grabbed the monster, and pulled it off her face. It came away with a good deal of hair and skin inside its deformed mouth. He threw it to the ground, and squashed it underfoot. It became silent, and stopped moving.

Lisa was sobbing, leaning into her dad’s embrace as blood dripped out of her wound, trying to explain. “My friends…they…they…”

Her dad comforted her, telling her everything would be fine. He snuck a glare at Kenny, a glare that read, How could you let this happen?

Kenny honestly didn’t know.

#fnaf #anthology #fazbear frights #five nights at freddy's #horror #cw: gore #toy animatronics #toy chica #body horrow cw

4 notes · View notes

bekoobove · 10 months

Text

Fazbear Frights #11: Facing Facts

...After months of unemployment, Samuel is hired for a new, decent job, although some of the conditions are a bit uncomfortable…

How?

How could something so painful not kill him?

He stared into the darkness, praying for death.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“And remember, the rumors surrounding our establishments are just that- rumors. We here at Fazbear Entertainment pride ourselves on our advanced animatronics and delicious pizza, but we also have top-tier safety measures in place. Rest assured, families and employees alike are in good hands. Now, it’s time to begin your journey as part of the Fazbear Family!”

The screen faded to static and the tape ejected from the VCR. Samuel sighed with relief.

The man interviewing him returned to the room. “So, uh, what did you think of the training tape?”

“It was...fine, I guess.” Samuel responded blandly. Truth be told, it had been the most boring half hour of life, but the guy had been bragging about him being the editor, so honesty may not be the best policy in this case. “Say, what’s your name again? I was so swept away by the video that I forgot.”

“Oh, thank you! Graphic design is my passion. My name’s Alex, Alex Gramble. And now that that’s done with, it’s time for your first day as a Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza employee!”

“Hooray.” Samuel said dejectedly.

Alex smiled. “Listen, this is a small town, and news travels fast. I know why you had to come out here, and I figure that wasn’t your plan. But chin up! This job is full of opportunities.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is a dead-end career.” Samuel lamented that evening over dinner. “It won’t get me anywhere.”

“Well, Sammy, I've told you you don’t have to stay.” Grandpa Harry reminded him. “I’ve lived a long, happy life. I don’t want you to give up everything to keep an eye on me.”

Samuel felt a wave of guilt wash over him. “No, Grandpa, I didn’t mean it like that. Even if no...critical events happen..you still need someone taking care of you. You were an incredible father to my dad, and an incredible grandfather to me. This is the least I could do. Besides, I needed a job anyway. Maybe it was time I settled for something more realistic.”

“Well, Freddy’s does have those fancy new robots, right?” Grandpa Harry added, poking at his peas. “You’ve always wanted to work with stuff like that.”

“I don’t get to lay a finger on those.” Samuel rubbed his temples. “They think I’m too inexperienced. For now, they’re just having me harvest parts from the old animatronics.”

“Those things are still there? I saw ‘em once, they gave me the willies.”

Samuel sipped some water, a bit nervous. “Trust me, now, they’re much worse.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He wasn’t exaggerating.

Freddy’s jaw had been pulled loose, making his once cheery grin much more sinister. Holes in his plush suit indicated the removal of parts. Foxy’s legs had been completely stripped, leaving nothing but exposed, oily metal rods. Chica was probably the worst of them, though. Her beak had been forced open, exposing her toothy endoskeleton, and her hands had been ripped off, leaving dirty wires to trail out her stiff arms.

Samuel spent hours in this room, alone with these...things, occasionally called to remove a part. With every piece removed, they only got more disturbing.

His walkie-talkie buzzed. Samuel sighed, then answered. “Hello?”

Alex’s voice came over the radio. “Hey, Sam. So, Balloon Boy’s eyes are malfunctioning. They keep rolling back into his head. We think there’s something wrong with the sockets. Could you open Bonnie’s faceplate and take out his eyes for replacements?”

“Faceplate?” Samuel inquired.

“It’s a feature unique to him. There’s a button located on his neck. Pressing it should cause his face to retract into his head. Easy access to all that stuff, y’know.”

Samuel was impressed. “Wow, whoever designed these animatronics must have been a genius.”

There was a pause. “Um...yeah. They were. Anyway, get those parts. And remember, take the animatronics apart gently.”

“You make it sound like I risk hurting them.”

“It’s just for safety.” The line went dead.

Samuel walked over to the Bonnie animatronic, slumped against the wall. While Chica was the outright creepiest of the gang, there was something about Bonnie that unnerved him. The only real damage was his arm, which had been ripped off for use in that plastic fox thing (A horrible use of good parts to be honest; that fox was poorly constructed, practically falling apart at the seams). Still, something about his blank stare was scary. Samuel would be glad to rid it of those eerie eyes.

He quickly located the button and pressed it. Nothing happened.

Samuel groaned. “We haven’t removed anything from that area. The wiring for that button should still be in place.”

He pressed it a few more times. Still nothing

Samuel began to get angry, and started trying to jimmy open the faceplate. “Come on, come on...stupid animatronics, I don’t want to waste the rest of my life here!”

His anger caused him to use a little more force than he meant to, and the faceplate ripped off. Samuel fell backwards, gripping it in his hands. There was the sound of wires ripping and metal scraping. Samuel hit the checkered floor, his head banging on the hard linoleum. He struggled to push himself up, dizzy from the collison.

“Oh, geez.” Samuel muttered, gazing at the plate. It was cracked down the middle, not to mention the damage around the edges from when it was first ripped out.

“Well, probably not a big deal.” Samuel reasoned, setting the part aside, on a small workbench next to Chica. “These things are being scrapped anyway.”

He quickly got to work removing the eye sockets.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He couldn’t taste anything.

That may not sound that strange. He wasn’t eating a meal or chewing gum after all, so why would he?

The thing is, while they pale in contrast to that of food, there are always flavors that we detect. From the salty taste of phlegmy spit, to even the subtle bitterness of our own breath.

He had none of that. It was like a bizarre, mouth-centric sensory deprivation chamber. Of course, most of his other senses were being overstimulated due to how much pain he was in, so it took him a while to notice- a few hours in, at least. But it didn’t take too much muddled, bloodied thought to understand why.

After all, his tongue was halfway across the room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Have a great day, Sammy!- Grandpa Harry.

Samuel smiled softly at the note. Grandpa seemed to have stuffed it into his toolbox, a kind little gesture from a man who’d spent his whole life making them. It was far better encouragement than the sticker Alex had given him for the box- a picture of that bright blue rabbit with exaggerated eyelashes, with the words You’re A Rockstar! written around it.

Still, he was starting to warm up to this place, at least a little. Alex, while a bit irritating, was a kind boss, and it wasn’t too stressful around here- after all, the restaurant wasn’t open yet. He’d even brought a book today, knowing he’d have some free time.

Whistling, he headed to his back room, and gently pushed open the door.

He wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

Alex had mentioned that the old animatronics might move around during the night because of minor glitches, but the door would guarantee none made it out as long as it was locked. Samuel had seen some evidence of this- their arms changing position, their heads being turned a different way, even Foxy having moved a few feet to the left once- but not like this. Bonnie was on his knees, and he held an old soldering iron in his only hand. It was frozen, held right up to his head. Said head was pressed against a wall, keeping Bonnie’s faceplate in place.

Samuel was stunned. “Did- did that thing...try to repair itself?” he stuttered. “No, no, there’s no way. Something that advanced just isn’t possible.”

After removing the sockets, all that had remained of Bonnie’s eyes were two small, reddish lights. Those seemed to stare at Samuel now, almost angrily.

Samuel walked towards it, and gently pulled the plate out of its grasp. He didn’t know why- maybe just to see if the robot would snatch it back. Nothing happened.

Samuel tucked the faceplate under Fredddy’s torso, hoping to keep it out of Bonnie’s sights.

With that done, Samuel pulled over a stool, and sat down to read. He watched Bonnie out of the corner of his eye, daring him to move.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, how was work today?” Grandpa Harry asked as Samuel walked into the room.

“Eh, it was...fine.” Samuel said, trying not to speak over Grandpa’s shows. He tapped his shoulder. “Hey, Grandpa, I wanted to ask you about...the incident that occurred with the animatronics last year.”

Grandpa Harry froze, then slowly grabbed the remote and paused the show. “Uh, why do you want to know about that?”

“I’ve heard some other employees whispering about it. I didn’t really care at first, but working with the animatronics...it’s just, they have some odd behaviors. I know the company tried to keep it quiet, but you live in Hurricane. Surely you heard something?”

Still staring blankly at the paused TV, Grandpa began to explain. “It was a young man named Walter, just over twenty I believe. Wanted to spend some time away from the big city, and moved out here for the summer. He was such a kind boy- volunteered at the local soup kitchen, polite to everyone- even gifted me some books he’d finished reading. But that doesn’t pay the bills, so he took a job as a night-shift Security Guard at Freddy’s. Two nights went by with little incident- then on the third night, something happened, and he never came home.”

Sniffling, Grandpa Harry grabbed a tissue from the side table and dried his eyes. “Such a kind boy…”

Unnerved, Samuel prodded further. “But do you know what happened to him? Like, did they find his...y’know…”

“They found his body, but the details are ‘classified’.” Grandpa Harry said bitterly. “Fazbear Entertainment putting money in the right mouths to keep them shut, yeah? But two things are very clear: those damned moldy old robots were responsible, and their handiwork wasn’t pretty. I’m glad they’re being scattered and scrapped. They won’t hurt anyone else, right, Sammy?”

“Right.” Samuel said, clearly not confident in his answer. Grandpa didn’t pick up on that, though. He unpaused the TV, and relaxed back into his chair.

Samuel quietly left the room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He hoped the thing suffered.

Yes, this thing- this metal abomination- would be broken apart, split into pieces. If this thing was capable of hatred, it should be capable of pain. But he wanted more.

He wanted his blood, dripping into the machine, to cause all the circuits to malfunction. No part of the robot would ever work again. It would be smashed, crushed, and forgotten forever- made to suffer, like he was suffering now.

When would he be free?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“See you tomorrow, Samuel. Um, be careful, and like I said, stay away from the animatronics.” Alex reminded him as he put on his coat.

“Right.” Samuel muttered in response. He’d been given a night shift, since there’d been reports of vandals in the area. After hearing Grandpa Harry’s story, he’d been resistant to the idea, but Management had promised him extra pay, so he relented. And, anyway, the dangerous animatronics were behind the door, so he was safe, right?

He hardly felt so within an hour. The sounds of whirring gears, electrical sparks, and clamping jaws began to resound from within. Samuel tried to ignore them, continuing to search the street in front for delinquents.

Eventually, everything quieted, as if the robots had only woken briefly from their slumber to check if the door was locked. But a few minutes later, there came a new noise- the louder, heavy thudding of metallic feet.

Samuel turned hesitantly, looking down the hall to that foreboding metal door. “It’s just a glitch.” He reminded himself with little confidence. “It’s not...fixing itself.”

His actions showed his doubt, though. Earlier he’d been sure to remove the soldering iron from the room. Bonnie wouldn’t lay an animatronic finger on it.

Clearly, that wasn’t enough. Banging began to resound from the room- like metal hitting concrete. The thing seemed to be trying to hammer its face back on with the wall.

Unlike the others, this sound didn’t stop quickly. It went on for at least ten minutes. Samuel almost felt bad for it- it was just trying to fix itself, right?

And yet, he remembered Grandpa Harry’s story again. These robotic abominations had cut a good man’s life short. They deserved whatever pain they were going through. There was nothing good in them.

Finally, Samuel had had enough. He abandoned his post, getting up to storm down the dark hall. Taking the key out of his pocket, he shoved it into the lock and turned firmly, pushing at the same time. The door flew open and hit the adjacent wall with a THUNK!

Sure enough, Bonnie stood nearby, looking pretty surprised that someone was stupid enough to barge in there. He backed away, moving into a position to leap at Samuel, but dropped the faceplate in the process. Samuel quickly snatched it out of the air as it fell, and slammed the door in the things lack-of-face.

It shrieked, banging against the solid metal slab as Samuel quickly locked it again. He looked at the fuzzy purple thing in his hand, and noticed something- a small, bloody stain just below its left eyehole.

Samuel narrowed his eyes and walked away, as Bonnie continued to rage behind him. He ran into the kitchen, turned on one of the ovens, and tossed the faceplate inside.

The faux fur quickly caught flame, and the rest of the piece quickly followed. All the while, Bonnie was screaming louder, banging harder against the door-

The faceplate was completely engulfed in fire, and Bonnie fell silent.

Samuel turned nervously as he shut off the oven. Hesitantly, he returned to the door and knocked, eliciting no response.

“Uh, Bonnie?” Samuel called out. The silence was far worse than any mechanical scream or furious banging.

He put the key back in and opened the door slowly. Peeking inside, he saw all the animatronics were still in their proper places, but Bonnie was nowhere to be seen.

From his left, Samuel heard mechanical shifting. He tried to pull back, but it was too late.

A rough, bare animatronic hand grabbed him by the face. He felt the sharp metallic parts scratching his nose. Bonnie’s finger jabbed him in the eye. He screamed with pain, hoping someone would hear and come and to help him, unlikely as that was.

The robot’s grip grew tighter, its claws beginning to break through the skin. It slammed him against the wall, putting its weight against his body, and pulled on his face.

It used more strength than any cheap pizzeria animatronic should have. From inside his own head, Samuel could hear bone cracking, blood rushing, and tissue snapping. Finally, with one horrible CRUNCH, his skull was ripped loose from his head.

Samuel should have died at that moment- but he didn’t. His mind, his soul- remained trapped in his skull. He watched his body fall down limply, his jaw hanging loosely as blood cascaded down his neck.

He looked up at Bonnie, holding his head in its hand. Bonnie tilted his own faceless head, studying the mess of bone and flesh he held.

After a moment, it slammed the skull into its empty head. Samuel felt sharp crossbeams penetrate his brain, and screamed with agony- or tried at least, lacking a mouth and all.

Seemingly satisfied with the replacement, the robot collapsed against the wall again, forcing Samuel to stare at his own mutilated form several feet away.

How long would it keep him alive?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several hours passed, every moment of them agonizing. Samuel’s soul, trapped with his disembodied head, begged- to Bonnie or a higher power, he wasn’t quite sure- to put an end to his suffering.

It did eventually.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry sat on his porch in a rocking chair, slowly swinging back and forth as he sipped a cup of tea. This was how he’d spent all his mornings since he retired- here in his house on the outskirts of town, watching the sun rise.

It had been better when his love Margaret was still around though. She’d passed on a decade ago, leaving Harry all alone. His family visited, of course, but his house was empty most of the time.

Samuel was a blessing. One he felt guilty for having- Samuel had a life of his own to lead, after all. Still, Harry had felt more alive in the week Sammy had been here than he had for years.

He frowned, and checked his watch. 6:57 AM. Samuel had promised he’d be back no later than 6:45. Was the traffic in town that bad?

“Oh, well.” Harry chuckled. “I’m old, I’ve got nothing better to do but wait.” He gazed out the road, hoping to see Sammy’s car driving towards him any second.

He waited for quite a while.

#fnaf #anthology #fazbear frights #five nights at freddy's #horror #cw: gore #withered bonnie #bonnie fnaf

1 note · View note