...
Because why the hell not?
This story is a one shot. In it, the animatronics are humanoid androids with animal extras (Freddy, Bonnie and Foxy have ears and tails, Chica has feathers in her hair...they all have the scary ass teeth and claws but patrons don't seem to notice). Why? To me, that seems creepier. A child would see a grown up in costume but adults might see it as unsettling to know the thing that looks, sounds and acts like another human entertaining their child isn't. I've always thought the idea of dolls coming to life was way creepier than plushies.
Anyhoo, the title is from Three Days Grace.
*AIHB*
""Oh...are you scared? Poor baby."
Scared didn't even begin to cover it. If he hadn't recently used the empty 2 liter he'd thought to bring after the first night of horror, Mike knew his pants and the office floor would be soaked right now. At 5:17 on his last night, he ran out of power. Not two seconds afterwards, the doors burst open and he was thrown out of his chair to the ground. Now pretty much sitting on him was the brown haired android known as Freddy Fazbear. God was this fucker heavy! All the fight he had petered out the instant he realized all that pushing and shoving did precisely jack shit to budge about 400 pounds of metal. This was it. Desperation plus not reading the god damn fine print on his employment contract equalled a bloody end at age 25.
The only light in the room provided by the eerie blue glow of his eyes set in seemingly empty sockets. Mike whimpered as he felt the daggers that somehow passed as fingernails caressing his cheek. Yelping when one sliced into the soft flesh allowing blood to flow freely. Gingerly, something trailed along the cut. Something warm and wet.
"Mmm...you taste sweet too, what a pleasant suprise. The others will be thrilled about that." Freddy purred. And Mike's brain died.
Did...did Freddy just LICK him? The fucking killer robot just licked him. Licked him with his tongue that wasn't dry rubber. It had taste buds that could tell how his blood tasted, and liked it. Because of course it did. Wait, what did he mean too?
"Aren't you even going to scream? You're awfully quiet for a man staring down death. Why are you different?" He asked. The two glowing dots shifted to show the android's head likely tilting. The guard shut his eyes and remained quiet. Maybe he'd just do it and get it over-
"AHHHHH!" The scream came as his elbow was painfully disjointed.
"That's better. You know it's rude to ignore someone talking to you. Now...I want to know why you smell so good."
"I-I-I don't understand!"
"Of course you don't silly. But still, I caught you so I get to have the best part of you. Just relax. It'll only hurt like hell." Those vice like hands clamped down on the sides of his head forcing him to look into those soulless orbs. He opened his mouth to scream again only to choke on something trying to force it's way out of his throat. What escaped happened to be a strange white light that illuminated his killer's face. As it entered the droid's own mouth. For some reason, it felt like his whole body was on fire mostly intensely around his mouth. Black spots swimming in his eyes, searing pain wracking his body, Mike Schmidt's world went black.
*AIHB*
Eugene "Gene" Riker III gulped as he pulled into the parking lot at 6:30. The night guard's car remained on the lot. Actually being the only other car there, he assumed it belonged to the new hire. Mr. Riker hadn't actually met the man. No, he stopped allowing himself to get to know potential prey long ago. After all, you don't get emotionally attached to a cow right before its slaughter right? Morbid coping mechanisms aside, he had exactly an hour and a half to begin cleaning whatever horror show awaited him before dayshift began to arrive. Them he could try to protect at least.
His own nightmare began the summer of 87, when he worked there at the prize counter. In those days it wasn't uncommon to see the new eye catching androids working with the employees in suits which had been the establishment's original theme when his grandfather opened the first location. The kids loved it. Even if some adults thought it was straight outta uncanny valley. The crew was so life like in fact that a few people had even hit on the the damn things thinking they were really dedicated employees. He'd always wondered how someone could make the technology from Blade Runner a real thing...then waste it at a pizza joint entertaining snot nosed brats.
It creeped Gene out to know their AI wasn't at all simple nor limited to entertaining full scope of it became more apparent after hours. Or rather when the public wasn't watching.
For one, Bonnie's guitar was real. While he roamed around, it was strapped to his back. On stage, he was actually playing the damn thing. As the evening crew set about vacuuming and wiping down tables his first night, Gene began restocking and re organizing the prizes on the wall. Crouched under the counter, he assumed someone had turned on the radio. Until he realized it was just the guitar portion of a popular song. He looked up to see Bonnie seated at the edge of the stage, blue hair and blue fuzzy ears bobbing slightly as he strummed out Master of Puppets.
Master of Puppets.
Did nobody find that eerie?! AT ALL?! Yes actually. Anyone not there as a summer employee reacted by moving faster to try and leave sooner. Dear god his co workers in his age group though thought it cool. One guy even asking if he knew Stairway to Heaven; then looking awestruck as he plucked out the first chords. Stupid stoners. A robot was was playing a song about being controlled against one's will and wanting to break free. Then, upon request, switched to one long thought to be full of occult allusions. It was at that moment Gene's thoughts took a dark turn. Just what went on inside those things' heads?
Foxy liked to read. The inside of the cove contained the expected play area but under the floorboards was a stash of books and magazines. The pirate caught him staring while he flipped through one (Gene could only tell it was a magazine or catalog) about half an hour before opening one Saturday. The uncovered eye glared at him, the hook dragging the curtain closed. The disturbing part of that being his father assured him they didn't pay adults much attention unless in relation to a child. Staring hatefully totally qualified as paying attention to as well. Maybe they say teens as kids. Also, what was it doing with a book anyway?
Chica was either in the kitchen or on stage most of the time. It ran pretty smoothly since shows were at preset times. You could always tell she'd been cooking...the pizza didn't taste like cardboard in disguise. And new things would pop up on the menu from time to time. Of all of them she weirded him out the least; perhaps because she was small and adorable at barely 5 feet tall whereas her...companions (brothers?) were all at least 5'10. Then there was the startling incident where a cook bolted out the door, full tilt one business day not to be seen for hours. The prize counter happened to be located near enough to the kitchen for the teen to hear a racket going on in there right before the guy ran screaming bloody murder from the pizzeria. A shell shocked busser mumbled to him what happened.
"The guy changed the cake recipe. She didn't like that." The girl told him quietly.
Still, over all that, his formal introduction to the legally able to vote members team is what did it. His old man had been out of town the first day and he just blended in as another useless high schooler that would be gone once summer ended. Things were good that way.
Then...
"Alright everyone. I know it's a bit late for intros but this is Eugene, my son. Like to be called Gene as I imagine you've all know by now. His contract is a bit different than the ones all you full timers signed but he's a full fledged employee of this establishment just the same. Treat him right." With a hearty pat on the back, Eugene Riker II left his 17 year old boy standing among the his new coworkers. All of whom regarded the man's retreating back with abject horror. A few dared to look at the teen and shake their heads.
"What a bastard."
"Strangers I get but...you're own kid?"
"Poor boy."
No one would tell him what what that was all about. Everyone just whispered behind his back. Oh, they were pretty nice to his face. Too nice. As if they pitied him or something. A guy named Jeremy who managed the arcade games started to tell him what the deal was one day. Jeremy kinda kept to himself, the others called him off but he seemed decent enough to Gene. Right when the elder opened his mouth, they were interrupted. How they were interrupted managed to peak his curiosity and unsettle him all at once.
"Are we telling things we shouldn't?" The older man paled at the voice he couldn't see and let out a pained whimper. Freddy stood behind him (WHERE did he come from?!) with that ever present smile. The tanned hand on Jeremy's left shoulder was anything but gentle in it's grip. "Shame on you Jeremy, you almost broke the rules. And that would be bad. Aren't you glad I stopped you?"
"Y-y-yeah."
"Good. See you boys around."
After that, Jeremy wouldn't even look at him. The older punk boy kept his left arm still, as if moving it hurt. The next day he came in with a sling and a doctor's note saying the socket was fractured. What the fuck? The androids were that strong? WHY?
Then the twenty something was there the next day. And no one would tell him why.
Speaking of those creepy things, they were always watching Gene. Their eyes followed him no matter what. The evening after Jeremy quit talking to him, Freddy scared the shit out of him by leaning over the prize counter while the teen cut open a box of erasers.
"We were beginning to doubt you even existed."
"GAAHH!" The teen screamed, scrambling forward away from the voice. "Freddy, you scared the piss outta me!"
.
"Apologies, I seem to have a knack for that." The way it smiled suggested it wasn't very sorry at all-
Wait. It was doing that thing again...that thing supposedly not in their programming. That shouldn't be it their programming.
.
.
.
Alrighty then!
A mere 5 days after being hired, he went to confront his father about the absolute bullshit going on. Nothing about this was normal. Those machines were creepy. The workers were terrified of them but kept coming back- no one's that hard up for cash. Something kept them from telling him or anybody what the fucking deal was.
Gene noticed the Golden Freddy costume milling about but didn't pay it much mind on his way to the office. It was a throwback from when Eugene Riker I opened the original location back in the 50s. Back then employees dressed up in sweltering felt animal suits. Over time the suites became less like full body get ups and more like easy to move around in make up and ears. His father, Eugene II, came up with the robot idea to have more employees free to do actual work. The technology was leaps and bounds ahead of anything else but for big parties, sometimes dad roped some of the grunts into putting on the heavy costumes in order to help coral kids. The Golden Freddy Android was in parts and services at the time; something about his stabilizing systems were malfunctioning and was thus and able to stand or move about. The main attraction's twin could usually be found backstage, often coming out at random times as a special guest.
"Pop, what is up with this place? These things are smart. Like the movie Dolls smart and just as scary. Everybody keeps looking at me like they feel sorry for me or something but no one will tell me why. Freddy crushed Jeremy's shoulder when he tried and I haven't seen him since! They talk when they shouldn't and they're always staring at me!"
"Did he now? That boy knows it's not allowed. Well, I suppose that's why he got picked-"
"Pop! That's what you got out of that?!"
"Son, it's best you-"
"What is going on? Why are supposedly child friendly machines strong enough to crush bone?"
His father looked at him for a long time then sighed. Leaning back in his chair, the greying man closed his eyes.
"I...I thought you still had time. Tried to protect you as best I could, kept you away but...you're almost 18 and they hadn't seen you yet. Son, I'm so sorry."
"Wha-ow!" the teen yelped as his father's pocket knife nicked his hand, allowing a few droplets to spill onto the floor.
The next 30 minutes came as a family history lesson. His grandfather's first business venture tanked so badly that he moved clear across the country and changed his name out of shame. The Riker line was founded on a sham...and desperation. in his late twenties, destitute and willing to do anything to prove he wasn't a failure, the man tried whatever he could think of, including questionable magic. The 5 creatures he summoned made a contract with him.
"Feed us." The leader stated. All were vague shadows he couldn't really see. "Humans are full of such life and vitality and that is what we crave."
"But we are not bound to this world, only able to slip through the veil on occasion." another stated, sounding a lot like the first.
"Be our anchor, let us walk among you and we will help you." the third sounded feminine. "We're bored and want to see your world, humans are so interesting!" It added with a giggle.
"W-what does that mean? Let you eat people?"
"In a sense. Your kind radiates so much energy we would not need to kill." the forth shadow spoke.
"What happens when I die?"
"Your blood heir will continue in your place." the fifth said.
Eugene Riker, formerly Randall Eustice, was desperate but not stupid. Or at least he prided himself on such a notion. And that pride would be the foundation for a terrible curse on his family line. All he had to do was agree to anchor their essence to this plane existence? These beings were really willing to help him for so little? There had to be a catch. But, sometimes, things are what they seem with no strings attached; the true cost of something is all a matter of perception. It's in abusing that we create unnecessary (and in his case bloody) problems.
Grandpa accepted the deal but not without finding a way to trap the creatures. How could he trust them? For all he knew, they were devils from the pits of hell. Opening the restaurant gave them a steady supply of young batteries to drain and another spell prevented the demons as he called them from ever leaving and roaming the Earth. During the day, they could possess an employee in order to interact with the kids but were forced out of their host at the threshold every night. Since his end of the contract was being fulfilled (loopholes aside), they had no choice but to continue with their; using their power of attraction to lure in more business. A win-win.
Not even close.
Children were a strong source but the restaurant's capacity could probably only keep 3 of the 5 satisfied at a time. It wasn't enough.
So...
"You're a terrible person Randall." The one that came to be known as Bonnie spat. Years of somewhat steady energy restored their ability to manifest a corporeal form.
"My name is Eugene you freak. I have to feed you so I'm feeding you. Stop complaining."
"You could just let us leave when we want. Then this wouldn't be necessary." Freddy pointed out. "Like we originally agreed."
"I know If I let you demons free, you'll kill more than this wino."
"It's been 4 years, such a short memory but you can conveniently recall we won't just kill you-hello there." Freddy's scowl shifted from his 'employer' as he smiled down at the intoxicated man that was beginning to wake up.
"Whazzz goin on?" He looked up to see 5 people standing around him. One had blue hair! The dame in yellow next to him was kinda cute though. The redhead (who dyes their hair blood red?) With the eye patch freaked him out a little. Was that a hook?!
Somebody musta spiked his hooch.
"Well, the owner of the establishment you like to loiter behind after hours isn't very happy about it. Instead of calling the authorities, he's decided to let us deal with you." Foxy examined his hook not really looking at the man. "So who gets his soul? I'm hungry dammit."
"WHAT?"
"We could share it." Golden Freddy said, an exact copy of the brunette save the bright gold hair. At first they didn't have names in the sense people did. Nor were he and Freddy actually brothers as humans knew it, more like reflections of one another. Hence taking the designations and physical appearances they did. Eugene sorta let his mind wander during the explanation. All he really wanted to know was what the hell to call them instead of "it" or "freak" all the time. The rest was window dressing as far as he was concerned.
"There's an idea. You can go first then brother." Freddy chirped.
"You guys do that. I want no part of this!" Chica huffed and vanished from the room causing the drunk to shriek.
"You have to excuse the lass. This ain't exactly what she signed up fer." A single green eye narrowed at Riker. "Shame e's gotta be alive..."
The only other human in the room observed in morbid fascination as the four creatures took turns draining the man of his spirit. After only a few minutes, he was just a lifeless corpse. Now all Eugene had to do was get rid of the evidence. Great. Where could he hid the body? The lake's too far away... He did NOT think this through-
About midway through his plan to dump the body in the woods, Freddy's hand plunged into the man's chest, ripping the heart out. As if it were a loaf of bread, he broke it half and gave a piece to his twin who greedily shoved the whole thing in his mouth. The proprietor couldn't hold back, retching at the sound of bones snapping like twigs. The squelching of flesh being penetrated and torn apart. They descended upon the dead man like ravenous wolves. Once they were done, all that remained was a pile of bones, cloth and a mess of shredded meat sitting in a bloody puddle. Satisfied, the four just wandered away, leaving him with the mess.
/At least I had the sense to do this in the kitchen./ He thought grimly.
When Eugene the II was 20, his father brought him to meet the special employees after hours and finally learn the family secret. He'd been there many times as a child and loved it, even working there on school breaks full time. The young man always dreamed of taking his father's place but he'd been so tight lipped about it all until now. He started his family young only because he knew he'd have a means to support his wife and infant son.
"Dad? What's going on?" Jr never really thought about how creepy a kid's place could look in the dark. "Who am I supposed to meet?"
"Nothing much my boy. You want to run the family business right? Well, you'll have to make the same sacrifices I did."
Without warning, Eugene Sr. grabbed his son's hand and sliced it with a letter opener. Blood flowed from the wound onto the floor for a while before the man let go.
"Oh my god! Shit! What was that for?!" the boy screamed.
"It didn't have to be quite that much Randall." A deep voice drawled. "You'll leave a scar."
"My name is Eugene! It's been 18 years. Get it right you freak!"
"Hello Junior. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this but your father is a terrible person." Eugene the younger didn't have time to turn around before a hand grabbed his wrist bringing his bloody palm up to the speaker's lips. "No need for it to go to waste."
Understandably, the young man freaked out when the man with brown hair began to clean the wound with his tongue. No matter how hard he pulled, the grip did not waver. And his father just stood there watching impassively. Once clean, it sealed up before his very eyes.
*AIHB*
There were no words to describe Gene's feelings at that moment. All that mumbo jumbo crud from movies was real?! Flesh eating, soul sucking demons?!
"I...God if he had told me before I never would have married your mother. Never had you!" The man sighed. "And I think he knew that. So he waited until you were born to tell me. It has to be a blood heir. It's why you have no siblings, why I have none. To keep the line from splintering. I had no choice son. If I didn't do this, they'd just come after you and do god knows what. Those things are so life like because they are alive. All I did was give them shells to inhabit instead of possessing helpless employees. The employment contracts are cursed, an extension of your grandfather's twisted pact. The executor is the only one who can reveal the secret. Even then those they do share it with become bound by their words to never reveal it. If they try, those monsters kill them."
"They all know?! Why the fuck does anyone work here then?!"
"Because they can't quit. Thanks to dear ol dad signing on the dotted line is to literally sign your life away. It keeps the pool of, geh, sacrifices stocked. There's a lottery no one wants to win every few weeks. The unlucky bastard gets moved to night guard but it's the way to ever leave. Good news is if they survive 5 nights they'll get a week's pay and a pink slip. If not...well no one outside of the staff even remembers they were here."
"No."
"No?"
"No I will not be apart of this! I won't take the business and just lead people to their deaths like this. It's wrong and you know it! How could you Pop? These people, this town trusts you!"
"Boy I didn't have a choice! And neither do you! Neither will any child ever born into this god forsaken-!"
The sound of screaming cut off the rant. People were running and panicking in fright but some of the screams were from pain. They opened the office door to find the lobby all but deserted. Only the "characters" and employees remained. The latter of which were all hiding behind various pieces of furniture or flush against the walls.
Lying on the floor between the 5 demons (wasn't one supposed to be broken?) was the Golden Freddy costume. Or what was left of it. Those things had shredded it to pieces.
With a person inside.
All that felt offered no resistance to their sharp claws and teeth. Who ever it was got torn to bits. Gene's foot slipped on something as he entered the area. Against his better judgement he looked down instantly regretting it immediately.
A mass of dyed purple hair soaked in blood rested under his high top. Attached to the severed head of the one person who had tried to warn him about this hell hole.
Officially, the incident became known as the Bite of '87. How? Fuck if Gene knew. The papers reported one of the 'attractions went berserk and killed someone but the name wasn't released. In the panic to get away, 5 local children had vanished into thin air. Vigils were held, rewards posted.
In reality, those kids were as dead as Jeremy. The stress of working there, knowing what he did, and being trapped there drove him understably insane. What wasn't understandable at all was him leading kids one by one away from the birthday party that day. Dressed as Golden Freddy's animal counterpart, he lured 4 little boys and one girl into a store room and stabbed them to death. He didn't think the broken droid could see him but it did. GF wasn't really broken, just running too low on energy to properly control his vessel, slipping into a sort of coma as his companions went about their day. During the course of which, some would gradually filter to him.
It wasn't until he was done with the 5th that the sleeping spirit was roused. Not by noise but by the ambient negative energy naturally generated by butchering 5 innocent children. As the life essence from the giggling masses at the party filtered through to him, the awful sickening energy released from the murders permeated their bond to the other on the floor. When he put the suit back on for victim number 6, the other 4 demons pretty much went off.
The reason was very simple. Almost 40 years ago, they had been children themselves in terms of their species. Young and naive when they made their deal with Eugene I, merely wanting to explore and see human the world. Then having their dream destroyed by someone they thought they could trust. Seeing, feeling that happen to others so young first hand drove them all mad in that instant. They pretty much snapped and went into a homicidal rage at the sight of the killer. Before, they were driven to take lives by the nature of their imprisonment. In that instant, it had been pure anger.
Gene thanked his lucky stars that for whatever reason, he never had a child. The contract made it so any child he had would have to carry this on but it apparently didn't take into account infertility. His poor Cynthia wanted nothing more than to give him a baby. And he felt like such a monster being relieved that she couldn't9. The penalty had been for her to die very young, only 33, of a burst appendix. That had to be why. Breaking the rule has consequences right? Forced to watch her die so suddenly. Then learn a decade later he himself wouldn't last more than a few years a best. He stopped hiring new staff, instead taking out paper ads so he never had to meet the people he was condemning. At least this nightmare would be over at the end of the year when the place closed finally closed. His medical bills were burying him.
The young man was sitting on the curb with his head down. He didn't move a s Riker approached. Probably too shell shocked, thankful that he lived all 5 nights.
"Mr. Schmidt? You didn't have to stay, your check would be deposited-"
"Mike be still inside laddy. Wants to talk to ye." The person that looked up wasn't the new hire. Not with that drawl. Not with hair that bright red. The dull morning rays made it hard to tell until standing right over Foxy dressed in the guard uniform. "Air's a might fresher out here but not by much."
Oh. God.
How was he OUTSIDE? His father put those wards up himself. He checked them daily. So..
His eyes wandered upward to see the symbol etched into the wall and hidden under the awning had been scratched through, destroying it's magical properties. Those things were free.
Inside, Riker did a double take. Bonnie looked up from tuning his guitar and shook his head before returning to his task. Seated at a nearby booth was a young black haired man with a small scar on his left cheek with Foxy's coat draped over him glaring at Riker. The intensity of which could probably melt an iceberg. The pirate's coat only partially obscured his wife beater and boxers. To his left sat Freddy. To his right, his blonde twin. Chica placed a cup of coffee and muffin down for him then pat his head tenderly before skipping back to the kitchen, humming to herself.
"Thanks. So, you're the bastard I have to blame for my week of hell." Mike grumbled. "Never did buy that freak accidental death bullshit she always spouted. Heh. Hiya dad."
*AIHB*
And I'm gonna say done cuz I have no idea what else to do with this. Love it? Hate it? Don't really care? Lemee know! Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out!