Too Human
He had always mulled upon the possible reasons as to why they were made so lifelike, so 'human'.
Perhaps a little too human.
Physically, they were pretty much as far from human as they could possibly get, but of course, nothing was ever as it seemed at that damned pizzeria.
They were required to be as 'child friendly' as possible, and naturally, that meant their design was going to the shape of something other than that of a human. Namely, it took the form of four animals that were familiar to, and often thought of as cute by, children: A bear, a rabbit, a chicken, and a fox.
In His mind, that was all well and good, but seeing as the animals themselves would hardly be suitable for the looking after of any form of young child, it meant that a lot of highly advanced programming would have had to have taken place.
Seeing as all of them had ended up receiving an intelligence greater than should have been possible, along with highly advanced personalities, He guessed that there had been great success in the programming stages. Well, either that, or something must have gone seriously wrong without anyone noticing, although it could have just as well been noticed and just deemed too unimportant to bother with, you never know.
Either way, that something had caused the four animatronics to gain intelligence.
He most certainly didn't think that was a good thing.
The fact that the four animatronics had the knowledge and Ideas on what things should be, but having no actual physical feeling body, meant that all the semblance of humanity that they could achieve, was superficial lines of programming codes.
Naturally, they all swiftly fell victim to madness.
His own fall only came on one average little day, in 1987.
His eyes glowed a little as He thought of the moment, temporarily reverting to a mildly sane state of mind, and act which seemed to occur less and less often over time.
It had really just been another average day for Him, another song, another show.
He was fairly certain that the bear, at least, had already been lost to his mind, the default programming most likely being the only thing keeping him going throughout his daytime performances.
Quite often He considered Himself luckier than the others, He was a 'hands off' exhibit. This meant no questing hands touching his cold unfeeling body, while his mind expected to feel the faint warmth that they surely held.
He would outlast the others, that much he was sure of.
Once more there was a veritable horde of young children, rushing up to inspect His cove. They squabbled and whined, the usual things, one even decided to get up on His stage, there was always one.
Following protocol, He had stepped away from the child when it tried to come too close, and stepped right into a small beam of light coming from one of the pizzeria's few skylights.
It barely crossed his mind that it should be warm, something else had caught his programming.
There were dust motes floating gently through the beam of light, catching his visual sensors with their sparkling beauty.
A strange sensation passed through Him, like an itch that couldn't be scratched.
He tried in vain to stop it as best as He could.
The child had wandered close again, and as His head had leaned back a little, just at that moment, His visual feedback cut off, a makeshift shutting of eyes.
His mouth swung open in a peculiar fashion, and He felt something come loose, His jaw obviously not having been designed with this in mind.
He was no longer able to control much as His body and head lurched forwards, and mouth closed as well as it was able to.
Then there was screaming.
His visual receptors rebooted. People were rushing about screaming, children were crying, and one small boy lay on the ground in front of Him.
The child was missing part of its head, dark red liquid leaking out, along with some creamy white chunks, mushy pale grey matter, and a large portion of hair.
It had barely registered in His systems that His jaw appeared to still be broken, He was focussed on the red liquid that was staining it, the skin that he could glimpse caught in his teeth.
He was certain now that it must have been blood.
But He could not feel it.
He could not feel the warmth dribble and drip down his synthetic fur, could not sense the discomfort that should have been there between his jagged teeth, and could not taste nor smell the coppery tang of the blood that now stained the curtains and floor.
And He did not feel the pang of realization for what He had just done.
He was far too far gone for that.
His voice box hissed a little as it let out a mildly crackling hysterical giggle, as security guards and police, accompanied by nurses, doctors, and the sound of silence, swarmed the scene.
Of course, He knew what had happened now, and even what it was called.
It was the reason why, during any mildly sane moments, He despised and inwardly raged at those who had created Them.
His eyes glinted once more in the darkness that surrounded Him. There was no trace of doubt that making the four of them as human as possible was a terrible idea.
'There is most certainly such a thing as being too human,' He figured.
He peeked his head from the curtains to look at the camera mounted on the wall with a dark chuckle, the flashing red dot showing its current use.
It appeared that a new toy had arrived for him to play with.
He had one last bitterly rational thought as He began His routinely games.
'After all, animatronics aren't supposed to be able to sneeze.'
End
This is an interpretation of 'The Bite of 87', Very different from canon, but the idea for the story was formed before the second game even came out yet alone the true story, never got round to writing it until now though.
Was originally going to be lighthearted and stuff, but I think it's gone the opposite direction.
In any case, I don't own Five Nights at Freddy's
Putting the disclaimer down the bottom, because no one wants to read that at the top.
