Hello! BonnieBun here! I've been meaning to write this ever since the first FNAF 3 teaser, but I just now had remembered about it and decided to work on it. This isn't part of the 'A [Blank] Sense of [Blank]' series and follows a separate timeline from said series completely. I absolutely love reviews (negative reviews are accepted as long as they're civil), so it would mean the world to me if you dropped one! NOTE: There is animatronic body horror from the next chapter onwards, so if you happen to be triggered by that stuff I wouldn't read. Enjoy!
"Okay, that should be the last of 'em." A scraggly man said, tossing down a full cardboard box onto the cold warehouse floor, the sound of metal and glass echoing throughout. He clapped his hands together to rid of the dust and gestured for his partner to follow him.
"Real sad, that is, but that's what happens when there's sick people around, you know?" His voice was deep and gruff. The farther into his sentences he got, the quieter it grew. "I remember, I took my daughter there one year for her birthday. They looked like a bunch'a clowns, but it was real cool for her, 'cause they played games with her and talked to her and stuff. Real sad, that is, real sad..."
The warehouse was rented out by a bunch of companies where they stored their spare things, but half the time, anything that went in never saw the light of day again. It drowned in dust and was piled to the ceiling with cardboard boxes and everything in between. It smelled like time, the air stale and the floors riddled with beaver traps in hopes to kill the giant rats that roamed.
In one block in the maze of shelves, there was what appeared to be a pile of bodies from a distance away, all twisted together in one big heap. Once closer, it would become apparent that they weren't human bodies, but rather robots, their legs and arms twisted the wrong ways, their eyes stuck open permanently. Most of them still had casings - some of plastic, some of fabric - but there were also a lot of places where it was lacked. Some had their suits missing on whole limbs, some barely had one at all, its whereabouts unknown; but every single one of them either had a crack or tear in their bodies. A smile was plastered on one's face, his eyes half closed, the irises white. He laid next to what appeared to be a yellow robot of some sort (it was incomprehensible to tell what she was supposed to be; she only had casings on her arms) and a jumbled mess of endoskeleton, its limbs tied together. They had been there for thirty years, gathering dust and nesting hundreds of spiders that made their way in through what was left of their damaged bodies.
Having joined them just then were those who missed some of their suits, but not all. They had been ripped from their home so abruptly after they unintentionally housed yet another murder, which had happened so many times it had been decided to shut them down for good. Their jaws hung open, their servos purposely locked so they could never move again. Eerily enough, they were dragged in with no specific order, but the way they had been laid upon the floor almost made it look like they were huddled together; four friends fearfully thrown into a new environment, clinging to each other because now they were the only things familiar to one another.
But, of course, they no longer had awareness. That scenario was impossible.
Inside one of the tall cardboard boxes that were placed nearby them that was full of their props, something began to press against the duct tape seal, shaking the box when it couldn't get it to open. Searching for something inside it could use, it jammed a wooden puppeteer's cross against the opening, the seal beginning to give. Growing excited, it pressed harder against the duct tape, the box suddenly breaking in the front, sending it stumbling outward. It was unable to regather its balance and crumpled next to the others.
This robot lacked a suit completely, and compared to the others, was in decent shape. They were just plain grey, save for a pair of blue eyes that were lit up in the dark. It brushed its shoulders off and froze upon hearing voices coming from the other side of the warehouse. There were humans in here.
Once realizing they weren't a threat to it or its friends, it looked over at who was next to them. It made a gasping noise and shot a hand to its mouth, reaching out and touching the cheek of the other one. It ran its hand down their face, but it didn't get a single response. Not even a movement.
Panicking, it began to pat Freddy's face, poking him in the eye and opening and closing his jaw to get a rise out of him. Nothing. It scrambled around to his other side and reached under him to lift him up. It wasn't very strong and only managed to lift him up a bit, dropping him loudly, his jaw moving upon the impact. Of course, this excited the endoskeleton, but it was only disappointed even more when it realized its friend wasn't responding.
It glanced around at the others and did minute things to see if it could get a reaction - tossing spare parts at their faces, calling their names, shaking them. Neither the toys or the old crew moved, and the endoskeleton finally accepted it was alone.
Sheepishly, it returned to Freddy and shoved him onto his side with all of its might, his body limp, the sound of metal resounding when his arm was crushed under his weight. The endoskeleton winced at the sound, knowing if he had been aware he would've been in a great deal of pain (and almost wanted to stop because of the guilt), but it continued on jamming the screwdriver under his back panel for its own benefit, comforting itself with the idea that he was technically "dead" and couldn't feel a thing. Putting the hydraulics in its upper arm to good use, Freddy's panel finally popped open, revealing a series of complicated circuits under his suit. But the circuits weren't what it was looking for.
It reached inside the gap that was in between Freddy's dirty suit and his endoskeleton, making around to his chest. It skimmed its fingers over the metal cold with deactivation, halting when it skimmed over a tiny box. Excitedly, it jammed its fingertips in the small crevice where the box snapped in and pulled, holding onto Freddy's side and leaning forward for balance. Suddenly, there was the sound of ringing, sour notes from when the comb hitting the drum abruptly as it fell to the front of Freddy's suit. The endoskeleton scooped the music box out and held it in its hands. How sad this is, thought the endoskeleton, running its thumb over the pins on the cylinder. This music box was special- it could either be wound manually with the windup key or could be connected to the chest of an animatronic for it to be played electronically.
It's hands were shaking as it looked down at the small rectangular hole in its chest. That hadn't been it's music box, no; but it knew the song from how many times it had been sung to it, and it was too beautiful of a song to sit there and rot away with rust.
Lifting up the box, the endoskeleton pushed it into its chest, only stopping once hearing a loud click. It slowly put it's hands at it's side, the fingertips brushing the ground since it was on it's knees. Thinking real hard, reaching deep into it's programming, it tried to get the box to play.
And it did. From the speaker in it's throat, the El Toreador rang just as it would if Freddy had been playing it himself, not a single note out of place. Shyly, the endoskeleton folded it's hands and brought them up to it's chest, closing it's eyes while listening. Oh, how it longed for the past. It longed for the friendly people that always came into the diner for breakfast early in the am before they went to work, always complimenting the accessories the animatronics wore, even though they were always the same. It longed for it's old music box; the one that would play 'Ring Around the Rosie' whenever it wished it to. And mostly, Goldie wanted nothing more than to see the others walk around and be happy and be themselves again. They had been thrown backstage when the restaurant reopened for the third time and only very rarely saw their friends - their family - but when they did, happiness was never present.
And there they were, dead on the chilling warehouse cement, left to dissolve into time.
Goldie stood up, glancing around at the area in melancholy. It truly was a depressing sight, seeing all of their friends cracked and ripped apart, missing limbs and important components. They were unsure of what to do with themselves, a whole piece surrounded by unresponsive parts.
"Loneliness stings, doesn't it, Goldie?" Goldie swung around in the direction of the voice they had heard, the force of the swing almost knocking them off balance. They turned, scanning the area.
"Huh...?" Their voice was small.
From inside the box they had forced their way out of earlier, a long, dangerously skinny arm striped with white reached out, scraping its long fingers on the ground. It pulled itself slowly forward like a creature with no legs, its face materializing into view. It wore a painted porcelain mask that was cracked at the upper corner, painted red at the cheeks. Goldie just stood and watched in puzzled wonder as the thin figure dragged itself out of the box into the light.
"It is clearly obvious that you are deeply affected by the loss of your family. You are feeling alone." The Marionette noted, slowly flipping itself onto its back, its neck twisted as well as its arms. Goldie looked down at Freddy, who was still on his side from when they salvaged his music box. He rested against Bonnie, who was practically laying on top of Chica. All three had wide-open eyes with white irises and hanging jaws. They almost appeared frightened.
"...of course." Goldie responded, looking back up. They brought their hands up to the music box insecurely, standing there awkwardly. The Marionette made a sound that was similar to a sigh of empathy and began to pull itself closer to them. Goldie stayed put.
"It is very, very evident that you are in pain," The Marionette spoke in an unsettling yet friendly whisper and had a creepy demeanor. It made Goldie nervous, and it didn't help that there was nobody else around.
"But," It chuckled quietly, "You don't have to be."
Intrigued, Goldie hesitantly moved toward it, sitting down in front of its head. They leaned forward, toying with the feet of their endoskeleton body. "How so...?" They squeaked.
"Your family... they are in pieces. Some are missing their arms and legs, their teeth, jaws..." It stopped speaking when Goldie's eyes shifted and their hands lifted to the sides of their face in hysteria. "I do genuinely apologize. I had just wanted to get my point across. I did not intend on bringing things up that would cause you discomfort."
Goldie did not respond.
"...as I was saying, one possibly couldn't work solely by themselves. They would not have all the components to do so, correct?"
"...correct."
"But if the parts from some were regathered to another, they would run like clockwork."
For the first time since they sat down, Goldie lifted their head. They lowered their hands from their face, jaw open in intrigue.
"Ah, so at last you are beginning to lift." The Marionette, lifted its one arm and placed its hand on Goldie's skinny metal knee, it's fingers so long and narrow that they stretched up to the upper part of the pained endoskeleton's thigh. "I suppose what I am saying is that I am a being of silence and would not be enough to keep you company. I do not speak unless spoken to first with the exception of today, and even in that event, I am not going to say much. But your family can operate as one if you are careful with how you reassemble them."
Goldie tilted their head, fingering the music box that was their brother's. "What is your main point?"
"Only one remains, but if you are useful with what is provided, there can be two- and all of them will still be around at the same time."