OpalDiamondz here! I thought up this idea after watching a video on YouTube about a women who had Multiple Personality Disorder and instantly thought about how this would be with FNAF. And now I've done my first chapter on the story, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Five Nights at Freddy's they all rightfully belong to Scott Cawthon. (Did I spell that right? I'm too lazy to look his name up.)


I woke up to the sound of my alarm on my phone and could hear two people complaining about the noise in my head.

"Ya' wanna turn that off, las?" one male, pirate-like voice asked me in an annoyed tone. I stayed laying down, listening to the annoying alarm tone repeat itself over and over again.

"Pleaseeee turn it off! My ears are sensitive~!" Another feminine male voice whined out.

I sighed with a huff and got up, turning off the alarm and checking the time; 10:00 AM, it read. My dad should be downstairs at the moment. I brushed my brown hair down and then brushed my teeth. The smell of breakfast started to make its way into my nose as I trotted down the stairs to the first floor of my home.

I slid into the kitchen and found my dad cooking up some juicy sausages with buttermilk biscuits.

'Oh my lord! That all looks so good! I wish I could've helped cook that!' A female, country-accented voice pouted.

I sat down at the table and watched as my dad poured me a cup of orange juice and gave me a plate of sausage and a biscuit. "Thanks, Dad, you did a good job." I complimented taking a bite of the sausage biscuit on my plate.

He smiled at my softly, "Thanks, Quinn, make sure that you take your pills." He reminded me gently and took his plate off food into his office. I watched him make his way towards the staircase to the second floor.

"You're not going to eat with me, Dad?" I asked him sadly, a frown making its way onto my lightly freckled face. Sure, he was my step-dad, but I wanted to spend as much time with him as I could. Too bad work seemed more important to him than his own step-daughter.

He returned my sad smile, "I'm sorry, but I've got some long reports to do today. I'll come spend time with you later on tonight, ok? We'll watch a movie." He told me with a reassuring smile. I just pursed my lips at him and turned back to my food.

"Quinn?" My dad called out to me as I stared at my food.

I just ignored him and didn't continue eating until I knew that he was gone upstairs in his office.

'Quinn, darlin', are you ok?' the feminine voice asked me again.

I smiled softly at the voice, "Yeah, Chica, I'm ok." I told her.

Oh, you're probably wondering how I'm talking to Chica, right?

After my father, Mike Schmidt, ended up committing suicide, my mother gave birth to me and married another man, my step father, named James Goldnick. But they started to notice something strange about my behavior at the age of 5.

Sometimes I'd break out in different accents that didn't belong to me. I speak in a proper tone so when I randomly broke out into an Irish or country accent, my mom would become concerned. Then when she tried to speak to me by calling out my name, I'd correct her by saying that I was either Foxy, Chica, Bonnie, or Freddy.

At that moment, my mother started to become crazy since the names were the exact same as the animatronics that caused my father to kill himself. She took me to various psychiatrists and I was soon diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder; but I knew it was deeper than that.

I didn't have some disorder, my soul is connected with the once-well known group of singing animatronics.

Soon enough as I grew older I started to hear new voices in my head. Two of them sounded like small children who I later found out to be BB and JJ. They're two 5 year old twins who sometimes come out at random times, though they only come out every once in a while. I met those two at the age of 10.

When I turned 12 I discovered the 7th soul connected to me. It went by the name Mari, it told me that it was neither male nor female; though I call it a him since he sounded like a boy. He has a unique love for a special music box that Mike bought for me before I was born, but he gets angry really easily which makes him slightly dangerous since he will abuse my body with light cuts on my forearms, which do leave scars.

The 8th soul connected to me is the one that I wish were gone, he revealed himself to me when I was 15. He goes by the name of Goldie and his age is unknown. He's a complete danger to my life even though he rarely takes over my body, but when he does, he actually attempts to kill me. He's tried cutting my wrists, overdosing on my pills, and even bleaching my drinks. He's the main reason why some people think that I'm suicidal.

But putting Goldie aside, I enjoy the company of the others. I've especially gained a special relationship with each and every one of them.

I know that Foxy loves to entertain people, so he's like the out-going, fun, adventurous one of the group. Chica loves to cook and take care of people, she's the mother of the group with a bubbly personality. Bonnie likes to spend time alone in small spaces, I think that's pretty strange, but he's an overall talkative and sweet guy. Finally, Freddy is the natural-born leader of the group, he doesn't come out too often though because he's usually taking care of Goldie, but he really cares deeply for me just like all the others.

I've learned how to live with each of them even though BB and JJ tend to come out without my permission, all the others ask permission, except for Goldie of course.

All of them talk to me like a normal person since they seem to understand me the most, I mean they have been intertwined with my soul ever since I was 2 years old. So that's my story about my little 'disorder'. Now back to me and Chica.

'Good, I'll do the dishes for you.' She told me and I nodded allowing her to take over my body. I knew that once I got control back, there'd probably be some cupcakes freshly baked for me to eat.


Chica wiggled slightly as she quickly got used to the feel of my body, "Time to get those dishes done." She said in her country accent and took the plate of half-eaten food, stashing all the dishes into the dishwasher.

"Alll done!" Chica chirped and wiped her hands together, "Now to make some cupcakes!" she cheered, throwing her hands in the air and balancing on one foot. She hummed a little tune as she got out all the needed materials and ingredients needed to make her famous vanilla cupcakes. She then put on her favorite apron that read 'Let's Eat!' and smiled memorably.

Mixing together the dry ingredients, then the wet ingredients, and then mixing them together to make the delicious cupcake batter. Chica stared at the delicious cake batter with proud eyes, "I deserve a little taste test." She proclaimed with a raised finger and dipped a lightly tanned finger into the batter and brought the batter-covered finger into her mouth, licking the batter right off.

Her eyes shined brightly at the sweet, cakey taste that exploded on her taste buds, well more like my taste buds… you know what I mean!

"OOOH! It's so delicious!" Chica screamed, crying dramatically, "These might be the best cupcakes I've ever made!"

She put the cupcakes into the oven and sighed as she put the timer on and went to clean up the mess that she'd made while humming a different tune. She washed her hands and jumped slightly at the sound of the oven's timer going off.

Once the cupcakes were cool she picked up an frosting bag and scooped the pink frosting inside the bag and squeezed it out onto the slightly warm cupcakes that were removed out of the baking pan they were just recently in.

Chica cleaned off her hands again as she gazed at the cupcakes she'd just made. She missed the kids, the entertainment, she missed her home; even if they did end up turning into monsters at night she missed the restaurant with all her heart.

She sat down in a kitchen chair and kept her eyes fixed on the pink cupcakes she'd baked, "Until next time." She voiced and allowed me to take back control of my body.


I opened my eyes and was instantly hit with the smell of cupcakes. Looks like I was right!

"Chica, I frickin' love you!" I said in a cheery tone and heard her give a hearty laugh. I quickly grabbed a cupcake and took a big bite of it, giving me a pink mustache (Who does that remind you of?). I licked the frosting off my lips and hummed with delight at the fluffiness and warmness of the cupcake.

"Your cupcakes are the best Chica." I complimented quietly, making sure that my dad didn't hear from upstairs in his office. I smiled when I heard Chica.

'Gaaaaw! They're not that good~.' She gushed, I could practically see her holding her blushing cheeks and wriggling her body around happily as she bathed in my compliments, with Foxy and Bonnie staring at her like she was retarded of course.

"Alright, I've gotta go take me pills now." I reminded only to hear annoyed groans from Foxy.

'Whyydya take them pill if they don't 'elp yee out in the first place?" he asked me with his light Irish accent, annoyance clear in his voice.

I smiled softly and shook my head, "If I don't I'll get in trouble and besides the only thing that the medicine does it make me 'high'." I explained adding quotation marks with my fingers, rolling my bright blue eyes when Foxy grunted, unimpressed with my little joke.

'I have to agree with Foxy on this one, Quinn. Those pills don't help you at all. They actually make it easier for Mari and Goldie to take over. I'm not too worried about Mari, but Goldie, yeah we already know what'll happen.' A deep, concerned voice asked me, that's Freddy.

"If I tell my dad this he'll just think that I'm going even crazier." I mused, my step-dad already thought that something was truly mentally wrong with me, I don't need him thinking that I've really gone over the hill.

'And if Goldie takes over you'll be back in the chair or dead.' Freddy argued. He really did care about me and only wanted me safe, but once Goldie was out and taking control of me, it was hard to get control back. Goldie's hatred for me, and his will of wanting me dead, were both so strong. It terrified me that only I and the rest of the gang understood the danger of Goldie. Everyone else just thought that I was some mentally unstable girl that can't choose who she wants to be.

"I'm sorry, guys, I'm taking the pills. I can't risk my dad scolding me for not taking the pills, even if they're not helping me." I expressed sadly and started to walk towards my room to get to my medicine box filled with various assortment of pills that I used.

I went to open up the box and took her special pills and took out two. Walking downstairs and into the kitchen, she filled up her cup with water and put the first pill into her mouth, "I'm sorry, you guys." She breathed out and took a swallow off her water, taking pill with it as it went down her throat, the same happening with the second pill.


I thought of all this this afternoon and finished it at 2:30 AM at night, what do you guys think? Please comment, I really love this idea and would love to continue it. What do you like about the story? Is it good, bad, both? Tell me, please!