Welcome one, welcome all. This is my first attempt at anything concerning video games, so I hope I get it right. This was just a plot bunny I had running around my head, and I decided that enough was enough and put thought to keyboard. So, this is the result. Enjoy.
I would also like to dedicate this story to my brother, whom I love with all my heart.
ONTO THE STORY!
Disclaimer: I do not own Five Nights at Freddy's. The wonderful Scott Cawthon does.
It was a quiet fall day. Leaves stirred and skittered about the sidewalks, swirling in their little soft dance with the wind. A car rumbled by, a low, pounding bass booming from inside. Two brown squirrels scampered across the road, chasing each other up the closest tree and disappearing into its branches. A soft gust of wind rustled through the trees, causing some of the frail leaves to break off and fall to the ground. Soon enough they would decay, becoming nothing more than husks of their former selves until they dissolved into nothing.
My grip on my steering wheel hadn't lessened in the slightest since I parked in the nearly empty parking lot. It felt desolate, lonely. The temperature had steadily dropped since I turned the car off, the chilly autumn air easily permeating my sweatshirt and making me shiver.
"It's just an interview, Trix. You can handle that. You have to. You need this job," I said to myself quietly, attempting to give myself a bit of confidence. I glanced at the newspaper resting beside me in the passenger seat, re-reading the Help Wanted ad for the fifth time since I got there. My last resort.
Pursing my lips, I took a deep breath and released my death grip on the worn leather. Before I could change my mind, I grabbed my keys and got out, locking the car behind me as I began walking toward the old building. I could do this.
How would I be able to look my mother in the eye if I came home without a job again? How would I explain it to my brother?
The smudged, glass door opened with a faint ding, the small bell hanging overhead sounding dull and tired. I peered around the darkened room hesitantly, suddenly unsure. It was the sixteenth, wasn't it? Pulling out my phone quick to check my calendar, I was relieved to see that I hadn't goofed up and came on the wrong day.
Maybe the owner forgot about me and didn't turn the power on? But, if he wasn't here, then why was the door unlocked?
"Hello? Mr. Cawthon? Are you here?" I called out cautiously, listening to the light echoes that followed my words until they faded into silence. An uncomfortable feeling of wrongness curled in my chest, and it didn't take much for me to convince myself to leave and come back some other time. Maybe this was just a mistake. Who would be desperate enough to work for a measly $120 a week these days?
"I would," I sighed, clamping a hand down on my mouth once I realized I had spoken aloud. It was ridiculous how often I talked to myself. My hand slowly fell along with my gaze, and soon enough I had let go of the door and turned to go back to my car. Perhaps that little restaurant down the block was still looking for people to wash dishes.
A distant bell chime brought me back to the real world along with a draft of warm air. Realizing that the only explanation for the two happenings was that the door behind me had opened, I quickly turned on my heel and backed up a few steps. All the tension left my body when I locked eyes with an elderly gentleman standing in the place's doorway. He looked unassuming enough, with his thin frame and rounded spectacles.
"Mr. Cawthon?" I asked hopefully, my hands cupping my elbows as I tried to endure the cold air gently blowing around me. The old man nodded, his wrinkled face lighting up with a smile as he took my appearance in.
"Trixie Burras, I assume?" His weathered voice warbled, one bushy eyebrow rising. I nodded hurriedly, relieved that I didn't have to go home empty-handed once again.
"Yeah, that's me. I'm here for the job interview."
Damn, that sounded like a question. He probably thinks I'm intimidated by him or something now. Good going, Trix. Bravo.
"...never last too long." He chuckled, taking a small shuffle back. I froze, an uncomfortable smile forming on my face as I tried to hide the fact that I had no idea what he said. His eyebrows rose and he stared at me expectantly, putting me into a mental panic mode. Oh, goodness, I was bad at this. No wonder I couldn't get a job.
"Didn't you hear me, Miss Burras? I said that you should come on in. You'll catch your death of cold if you stay out there for too long," he mercifully provided, holding the door open wide enough for me to get through without bumping into him. Was it just me, or did it sound like he said something else earlier?
"I'm really sorry about that, sir. Sometimes I space out and don't hear what people are saying." I apologized profusely on my way into the building, hoping he wouldn't think I was a ditz for it. He merely chuckled again, closing the door behind us and shutting out the cold.
"That's alright, dear. It happens to the best of us," he said, patting me on the shoulder.
"So, um, would you like to start the interview now, or...?" I trailed off, unsure about whether or not I was being too forward. It was already six o' clock, and I hadn't even stopped to pick up something for supper yet.
"Well, I don't believe that will be necessary, Miss Burras," he cleared his throat, wandering further into the old building. My stomach dropped and my blood went cold, tears nearly beginning to form as I took in the implications of his words.
No. Not again. I can't go home without a job again. This was supposed to be it! Who else would want some crappy job like this? …Why did I have to screw everything up all the time? Why couldn't I just act like a normal human being for once? …What will I tell Josh? What will I tell Mom?
My shoulders slumped and I stared hard at the floor, willing the tears away so I didn't make an even bigger fool of myself. Besides, it was worth a shot. The least I could do was scurry away before I said anything I would regret…But how could I face their disappointment when I got home?
"Alright, sir. I understand. Thank you for your time," I said softly, clenching my hands into fists when my voice quivered. The old man blinked once and looked at me funny, his bushy grey eyebrows furrowing and a frown turning the corners of his lips down.
"What? No! No, no, no, no. You got the job, dear. I just didn't see why an interview would be needed if I already made up my mind," he said. My eyes widened and I nearly started crying in relief.
"Really?" I asked, a bloom of hope warming my chest.
"Really, really. Do I look like a liar to you?" He raised a bushy eyebrow.
"No, no of course not, sir-" I paused, catching the amused twinkle in his eye. "Thank you, really. You have no idea how much this means to me, Mr. Cawthon." I grinned, wanting more than anything to cavort about and celebrate my small victory, but I knew things like that weren't appropriate in public settings.
"It's quite alright, dear. Would you like a tour of the place? Maybe help steady any nerves you might have?" He asked, a grin of his own springing up on his weathered features.
"That would be wonderful," I said, giving myself a mental high-five as I tried to hide my excitement.
"Right this way, then. Oh! And watch your step. The janitor hasn't been in yet to clean up the birthday party we had here on Friday." He shook his head. "You just can't find good help these days."
"Yeah…" I murmured, taking in the checkered flooring and all the children's drawings lining the walls. Some of the papers had yellowed after years of showing the artists' joy.
One drawing in particular had yellowed so much it was nearly brown. The once vibrant colors of a large bear had long since faded, leaving the old drawing barely decipherable. FREDDY was written in large, sloppy letters down at the bottom along with another set of scribbles too far gone for me to tell what they were. Mr. Cawthon caught me eyeing the aged paper, a sorrowful smile creasing his face.
"My boy made that picture, about, oh, fifteen or so years ago I think." He laughed, but it was a dry, worn-out laugh. His eyes were flat as if all the life had left them. "Freddy used to be his favorite out of the whole gang."
Freddy used to be his favorite out of the whole gang.
Used to be.
Now, while I sometimes spaced off into my own world, I was still pretty sharp when it came to picking up hints.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Cawthon."
He jerked his head towards me, his hooded eyes wide. His lips thinned and he turned away, nodding slightly to acknowledge my words. Sore subject.
We slowly meandered our way throughout the place, Mr. Cawthon's sour mood brightening the more we spoke. He showed me the restrooms (which were not of the highest quality) and the security office, where I would be working. It was cluttered with take-out food scraps and cobwebs, making Mr. Cawthon look nervously at me.
"I swear, the previous guy was supposed to clean up shop before he left," he said, wringing his hands in worry. I chuckled, waving away his concern.
"No, it's fine, sir. I'll just clean it up after the tour, if that's alright with you," I offered, smiling kindly. His thin shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh of relief.
"I knew there was a reason why I liked you."
The rest of the tour was quick. He took me to the supply closet, told me exactly what I would need in case anything major arose. After that, we visited the kitchen, which was surprisingly spotless. Mr. Cawthon told me he never understood why it was kept so nice, especially since his cooks never picked up after themselves.
Then we strolled around the dining hall. A few of the tables were littered with used plates and pizza crusts, the bare remains of a birthday cake crumbled across a serving platter. I guess he hadn't lied about the lazy janitor.
"Now, this is my favorite part of the tour," Mr. Cawthon said with a grin, stepping over a forgotten stuffed animal like it didn't exist.
"Why? Because it's the end?" I questioned innocently, holding in my laughter as he took his time to process it. He scoffed, shaking his head at me and my joke.
"No, because you get to meet the heart and soul of Freddy's," he said solemnly, his eyes twinkling with pride.
"Oh. Do you mean the animatronics?"
"Yes, yes I do."
He led me over to a purple curtain with stars embroidered all over it. Unable to stop myself, I stepped closer, touching the old drape gently. It was made out of smooth velvet, the soft fibers drifting across my fingertips like feathers. I tugged at the opening, my eyes straining to see in the darkness behind the curtain. Mr. Cawthon grabbed my shoulder, startling me and causing me to let it go.
"This attraction is out of order, I'm sorry," he said, pulling me away from the purple drape. A sign reading, OUT OF ORDER, rested a few feet to our left, which I would have noticed if I hadn't been so entranced by the curtain itself.
"What was this one called?"
"Ah, well, it was once famously known as The Pirate Cove, but now it sort of sits here in infamy," he sighed, looking at the sign sadly. "I just don't have the heart to tear the old thing down yet."
"What happened, if I may ask?"
His face hardened, a look of bitterness replacing his sadness. I took a step back, watching his expression warily.
"No, you may not ask. Don't ask the janitor either, if you happen to see him. Let's just finish up the tour so we can both go home."
"O-Okay," I stuttered, slightly unnerved by his sudden change in mood.
We made our way to the big show stage, three hulking figures standing dutifully in the darkness. Mr. Cawthon shuffled over to a control panel and flipped a few switches, watching the stage intently as the lights slowly blinked to life.
"Wow," I murmured to myself, a bout of childish joy filling me as I took in the sight.
"The tall one there with the microphone is Freddy, the namesake of this whole place," Mr. Cawthon said, gesturing to the amazingly large bear animatronic standing at the forefront of the stage.
"The one on the left with the guitar is Bonnie. He was always my personal favorite." The bunny in question stared dully out into the room, his red bowtie seeming to have gathered a wee bit of dust on it.
"Oh! And the one on the right is Chica. Back in the day, we used to let her pass out desserts and drinks, but we decided to stop that when some parents complained," he sighed, looking disgruntled at the memory. The huge yellow bird held up a plastic cupcake in one hand, the cupcake itself looking like it was a tiny animatronic.
"They look amazing, Mr. Cawthon!" I said in awe, taking a step closer to the stage. He crossed his arms and beamed at them, that look akin to one a proud parent would wear showing up again.
"In their day, they were. I just wish I had more money to fix them up again. It sure isn't easy starting from nothing," the old man said, pursing his lips.
"I know what you mean," I agreed, thinking back to my family's little apartment.
"Well, that's all I have to show you for now. Do you want to go back to the Security Office to clean up?"
"Yeah, might as well do it now rather than later."
Mr. Cawthon went around the place as I cleaned, his off-key hums bringing a smile to my lips. I was thankful that the trashcan in the room had been emptied prior to my visit, but I was really pumped that I had some time to myself. Listening to make sure Mr. Cawthon was somewhere where he couldn't sneak up on me, I allowed myself the happy dance I'd wanted to do since he told me I got the job. I even let out a giggle or two, something I hadn't done for a long time. After I was done letting out my excitement, I cleaned the room some more until it was acceptable for my use. Another cupcake like the one Chica had been holding was in the room with me, its big, googly eyes unnerving me the slightest bit. I would have to ask if I could move it to somewhere else in the pizzeria.
The old man showed up a few minutes later, marveling at the cleanliness of the office. He informed me that not a single janitor that he had ever hired had cleaned anything as much as I had right then. I thought about telling him to hire better workers, but figured I had better stay on his good side if I wanted to keep this job.
He escorted me to the door, bidding me a farewell and a good evening before closing up shop. I waved at him once and hustled to my car, unable to prevent a grin from stretching my lips. I got the job! I got the job!
"Oh, Miss Burras?" Mr. Cawthon called, stopping me in my tracks.
"Yes, sir?" I called back, turning around. The elderly man shuffled over to me, his hand grabbing my arm once he was close enough.
"I know what it's like to try and make ends meet when you don't have the rope to tie them with. So, here, take this. Consider it an initiative to come back tomorrow," he chuckled, opening up my hand and pressing something into it. I looked down at the fifty dollar bill in my hand and stared, a sob catching in my throat. Mr. Cawthon patted my back and turned away, making his way to the only other car in the parking lot.
"Thank you," I said, holding the crisp bill to my chest.
"It was nothing, dear."
I zoomed through the grocery store, gathering only what I needed before heading to the checkout line. I smiled pleasantly at the cashier, my eyes lingering on a chocolate bar as they rang up my items. Deciding to go on an impulse, I placed the brown candy on the conveyor belt, my mind already picturing the look on Josh's face when I presented it to him.
"Twenty-three forty, please," the cashier said, their eyebrows rising when I handed them the fifty.
"Hold on, I have the change right here-"
"No need for that, Trixie. Someone left two quarters earlier, I'll just use those."
"Thank you, Jordan," I smiled, wondering how long it had been since I had smiled so much.
I hurried my way home, being careful not to drop any of my grocery bags as I bounced up the stairs to my apartment building. I called out a greeting to the owner of the building, stopping to pet his bulldog before tromping up the two flights of steps it took to get to my apartment. The lock was being rather difficult as I wrestled with my keys, cheering once it finally clicked.
"I'm ho-ome!" I sang, closing the door behind me. No one answered.
I hummed quietly to myself as I began preparing dinner. The television in the living room blared another infomercial, probably still the same one that was on when I left. The smell of mac-and-cheese filled the kitchen as I sliced up a few hotdogs, knowing it was Josh's favorite meal. Soon enough, I shut off the stove and scooped out two bowls, the one for me a lot smaller.
Making my way into the living room, I smiled down at my little brother and sat down beside him. He was looking at the TV, his eyes dry from staring so long. I placed his cereal bowl in his lap, picking up my own fork to dig in. The vacuum the people on the television were trying to sell looked like it was made with the cheapest material possible in China.
"What'd I miss, Josh?" I asked around a mouthful of cheesy goodness. Josh had pulled his knees to his chest and was balancing his bowl on the tops of them, taking small nibbles as he watched the TV.
"Buy the new and improved Ionic Breeze Quadra. An air conditioner and air purifier all in one," he said in a monotone, never breaking eye-contact with the woman currently displaying the China vacuum.
"Sounds like a scam," I mused, getting a juicy bite of hotdog. Josh didn't respond.
"I think it's time to turn the TV off, for now," I said gently, picking up his empty bowl and walking toward the small electronic. Josh waited until the little picture faded away before standing up and walking to his bedroom.
I took a moment to clean up the kitchen and store the rest of the mac-and-cheese for later. Once everything was back in its place, I tip-toed out of the kitchen and to the only closed door in the apartment. Taking a moment to steady myself, I knocked softly three times. No response. I turned the doorknob and walked in, looking at the simple bed in the center of the room with a crooked smile.
"Hi, Mom," I whispered, closing the door behind me. Her empty gaze drifted towards me, but I knew she didn't really see me. She never did.
"I got a job today," I started, moving towards the bed before resting on the edge of it. Her expression didn't change.
"It doesn't pay much, but it's enough. For now, at least," I laughed, but there wasn't much humor in it. The fan beside her bed hummed lazily, its stand shaking as the blades spun.
"Okay, goodnight, Mom. I love you," I said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. She closed her eyes, a soft smile pulling at her lips. I padded out of the dark room, making sure to be quiet as I opened and closed her door again.
I pressed a hand to my mouth, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. Josh wandered out from his room, coming to a stop in front of me. He looked up at me with his bright blue eyes, silent except for his breathing. I knelt down in front of him, reaching into my sweatshirt pocket with a sly smile.
"Were you good for Mom today?"
He nodded.
"Did you clean up your toys?"
He nodded.
"Did you brush your teeth after eating?"
He stared.
I rolled my eyes, gently ruffling his hair as I stood back up and took his hand. I lead him to the bathroom, supervising as he dutifully brushed his teeth. After checking his mouth to make sure he did a good job, I grabbed ahold of his hand and took him back to his bedroom, helping him into his bed and tucking him in. He looked up at the glow-in-the-dark stars I had stuck on his ceiling a few years back, their light still going strong despite the years of use. I had walked a woman's little schnauzer for two weeks to get enough money to cover his entire ceiling in them.
"Alright, I'm going to give you something now, but you can't eat it yet," I said in the most serious voice I could muster. Josh looked at me, a look of curiosity glimmering in his eyes. "Are you going to be a good boy for your teachers tomorrow?" A nod. "Okay, here."
Josh's eyes lit up and he sat straight up in bed, taking the chocolate bar with a small grunt. He smiled as brightly as he possibly could, letting out another grunt and jumping in place. I chuckled and watched, my heart squeezing at the excitement he showed.
"Goodnight, Buddy," I kissed his forehead, brushing the dirty blonde locks out of his eyes. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Goo-nigh, Sissy," he mumbled, setting the candy on his side table by his fan.
I turned away before he could see the tears in my eyes and walked out, shutting the door with a firm click.
Pulling a few blankets from the hall closet, I marched into the living room and spread them on the old couch by the windows, balling one up as a make-shift pillow.
I did it. For once, I didn't screw everything up. It won't be that fun going to work at midnight, but at least I'll be around to pick Josh up from school and help Mom.
I rolled over on my side, looking out at the twinkling glow of the streetlamps below. Things were looking up. Finally. I curled up into a ball and shut my eyes, a newfound hope unfurling in my chest.
I did it.