Can We Keep Him?
Chapter 2: A Sixth Animatronic
Mike Schmidt hated the YMCA. The place hadn't done anything wrong, really, it just drove him mad that he didn't have any privacy when he stayed there. Free showers, clothes, and beds were nice, but there were others in the city who were down on their luck, and he always felt like they were staring at him when he took the bed in the far corner, where he could put his back to the wall and protect his backpack.
The paranoia had made for a poor sleep schedule, and a few weeks into his stay a few of the volunteers had begun to get suspicious. An older lady constantly asked to see his ID, and even though it showed that he was eighteen, she would sniff at it and hand it back with a wary look in her eyes. Soon after, Mike had decided to find somewhere else to stay – he didn't need a nosy old bat figuring out his ID was fake and four years off.
So Mike returned to wandering the streets, keeping his nose clean and working the kindness of strangers to get by. He didn't want to apply for a job – an ID was one thing, but a background check would reveal that he was a runaway who'd been missing for almost a year from a small house in Oregon. He found little odd jobs, like mowing lawns or washing cars, to get enough money for food. When the work was scarce, he'd gone to a little cafe near the south end of town that had a 'pay it forward' policy. Customers were able to pay for a meal or cup of coffee for those who didn't have the money to do so themselves. He'd visited often when he first reached the town, but after a police officer had asked his age, he'd tapered it off to once a week. Obviously the officer had mentioned his suspicions to the wait staff, because they'd begun to try and keep him in the cafe for a time, obviously waiting for a police officer to come by and take him in as a runaway. After a close call that involved him running through the kitchen and slipping out the backdoor, Mike had given up on the cafe as a safe place to eat.
The fourteen year old had used what money he had to buy cheap food from gas stations and grocery stores. He'd taken to only eating once a day, which had left him skinny as a stick and with pains in his stomach. Mike didn't mind, though; food once a day was better than food once a week. He gathered coupons from abandoned newspapers and the little kiosks the grocery stores had, using them to find what healthy stuff he could for cheap. That was how he found out at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.
There was a coupon for a $5 large pizza (limit two (2) toppings) and a 2-liter soda. Mike had nearly jumped up and down at his luck. His fifteenth birthday was in two weeks, but the coupon expired in only a few days. He decided to celebrate early and, scraping together what he had, he walked to the busy side of town to get his meal.
The restaurant was shiny and relatively new, from what he understood. It was full of kids running around, yelling at the top of their lungs while eating pizza and cake. A band of three animatronics, who were a bit sauce-splattered and soda-soaked, were performing pizza-themed songs on a stage. Mike found himself completely distracted and staring at the stage for several minutes. A pretty waitress in a purple shirt and black slacks walked up to him, a thin smile stretched tight across her face.
"Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. May I help you?"
"Oh, er, yeah, hi," the boy stuttered, holding up he paper. Unfortunately, he was holding up the wrong side. Instead of seeing the $5 coupon, the waitress saw a small classified ad.
"You're here about the job?" She asked skeptically. Before Mike could turn the paper around and correct her, she hollered for somebody to come and get him. A thick man in a collared shirt and a purple tie stomped over, barely avoiding a thrown slice of pizza as he moved. The waitress pointed to the paper then went back to her work. Mike wanted to run as the burly man stopped in front of him. He wasn't short, but he was thin, and he looked tiny beside the manager. "You want the night guard job, kid?" The man asked, brow raised.
Mike flipped the paper around so he could look at the ad. His eyes nearly bugged out - $120 a week? That was enough to eat more than once a day! He looked up at the manager, who was waiting impatiently. "Yes sir, I'm interested in the job."
"Cool. You're hired." The man patted his shoulder with a heavy hand. "Come in 'round 11 tonight and I'll show you the ropes."
"That – that's it? No papers or anything?" Mike asked, confused. The man shrugged.
"Nah, son. You look like a good kid." He waved the boy off. "Go get some sleep before your shift!"
Completely forgetting about his birthday pizza, Mike wandered out of the restaurant, stunned. He had not expected that. Lost in thought, he wandered towards the YMCA. He would have to avoid the nosy old lady, but if he was going to start a job, he wanted a shower and some clean clothes. Humming, he happily wandered down the sidewalks, glad that life was finally beginning to look up.
Friday night, Mike slumped into work half-an-hour early as usual. He didn't spare the stage a glance, knowing that those infernal animatronics would be up there for another half-hour before beginning their twisted little game. The teen stumbled down the west hallway. He stopped half-way down and pulled a length of metal cord from his backpack. He hammered it into the baseboard, creating a trip wire for that infernal fox. The sharp wire cut his fingers, but Mike hardly noticed. He hadn't been able to sleep more than a few hours the past four days – he'd nearly been caught at the YMCA again, so he was avoiding it and every other place that catered to the homeless population like the plague. He'd found a small alley near the restaurant that nobody bothered and had been sleeping there, but the constant nightmares caused by his new job had left him with only random snatched of undisturbed rest.
Wiping the blood off on his jeans, Mike stepped over the tripwire and wandered to the office. He still had fifteen minutes before the 'fun' started. He fell gracelessly into the office chair and pulled himself up to the desk, not bothering to remove his backpack. The dirty green bag had his entire life in it – money, ID, food, water, clothes, everything. If he ended up having to run for his life tonight, he didn't want to forget it.
The tablet that monitored the security cameras wouldn't be draining the power yet, so Mike flipped it on and focused on the main stage. The animatronics – Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie, according to the posters scattered about the restaurant – stood motionless under the stage lights, grinning dumbly at the empty room. Mike flicked over to the Pirates Cove cam, and saw that the purple curtains were shut tight with no sign of Foxy anywhere.
The tablet dropped to the desk and Mike leaned back, closing his eyes. He still had a few minutes before the 'fun' would start, which was plenty of time to worry. How was he going to make it through tonight? The animatronics apparently thought he was an 'endo' that needed to be shoved into one of the costumes in the back. He had taken a peek into one of the suits after his first shift, and found it full of sharp bars and crossbeams. He'd die within seconds if they tried to force him into one. The animatronics had been getting more and more active all week, moving more frequently and jumping from camera to camera much faster. Even Freddy had moved a bit last night, every motion heralded by his creepy laugh.
It didn't help that Phone Guy was, apparently, dead. The one person Mike had on his side in this twisted place had been killed by the very demons he was fighting against. He felt sick just thinking about the phone call he'd gotten last night. Listening to the man – who's name he didn't even know – being found and killed had set the teen on edge for the rest of the night. He'd almost been caught a handful of times thanks to Foxy's speed. Hopefully the tripwire would keep the pirate from getting him tonight.
His watch beeped, and with a groan Mike seized the tablet. He'd developed a pattern the past few nights, figuring out where the animatronics were most likely to be and checking only those spots and the door lights. He flicked to the stage, expecting it to be empty, and was stunned to see all three members of the band standing stiffly in their spots, unmoving. Confused, he flicked to Pirates Cove. It was equally still, the curtains not even stirring despite the mechanical fox surely being awake by now. Unnerved, Mike flipped between the Cove and the Stage, checking quickly every minute or so for movement.
The phone rang, scaring him out of his wits. Mike stared at the bulky corded phone as it rang once more, then clicked and began to play a recorded message. Instead of Phone Guys cheerful tone, a garbled tone babbled some nonsense in what the teen assumed was another language. He listened in horror as the odd voice finished its chant and the phone clicked off. He had no idea what had been said, or who had said it, and he really didn't want to find out.
12:15 ticked past, and still no movement from the animatronics. Were they done chasing him, then? Mike kept up his new routine of flicking between the two cams every minute or so. The robots didn't even twitch as the camera switched on and off. Feeling as though time was sludging by at a snails pace, the teen didn't move his eyes from the tablet for the next half-hour. Finally, at 12:45, something happened.
A fifth animatronic appeared on the stage – one that Mike recognized, but hadn't realized actually existed. The golden bear had appeared to him on Wednesday night, scaring the crap out of him but not causing any actual harm. He'd written the thing off as a hallucination and had been quickly distracted by Bonnie trying to grab him. Now, the gold bear appeared to be – talking with the other animatronics? Mike watched, bemused, as the bears jaw flapped up and down. There wasn't any sound on the cameras, so what ever the creature was saying was lost. The other animatronics turned and spoke with the gold bear, their joints relaxing as they apparently carried on a conversation.
Out of habit, Mike flicked the camera to look at Pirates Cove. The curtain was wide open, revealing an empty stage. He swore and slammed the left door shut, waiting for the inevitable banging as the pirate attacked. He was hoping that his tripwire would work to slow the fox down, maybe even damage the foxes legs so he couldn't run anymore. There was only silence for several minutes. He picked the tablet back up and flicked to the show stage. Foxy was there, standing among the others, his unhinged jaw flapping as he spoke.
Stunned, Mike opened the left door to avoid wasting more power. He kept his eyes glued to the tablet. It was nearly one in the morning now, and he had absolutely no idea what was going on.
There was a loud POP! in the dining hall as a new animatronic appeared. This one was tall and willowy, dressed all in black with white stripes on its arms and legs. It's face was a mask, painted with rouge and lipstick, purple marks trailing down its cheeks. It sort of reminded Mike of those Judy-and-Punch puppets his history teacher had showed the class once, without the nose. The other animatronics seemed to greet it cheerfully as it approached the stage, it's mouth moving oddly as it spoke with them.
Mike's nose was nearly touched the screen as he watched the gathering with growing alarm. There were six of them now? How the hell was he supposed to fend off six animatronics? He gulped when the puppet thing glanced over it's shoulder and made eye contact with the camera. The puppet thing smiled wider, then tilted his head. The camera cut to black, and loud static erupted from the monitor. Mike swore and dropped it to the desk, rubbing at his buzzing ears. Once the sound had ceased, he picked it back up and turned it on. The dining hall was still up, but the puppet thing had gone. The five animatronics were still standing on the stage, but instead of talking they all looked at the camera with creepy smiles and pitch-black eyes.
"Oh no, oh fuck, where did it go?" Mike flipped through all the cameras rapidly, even the kitchen camera, but the puppet-thing didn't appear on any of them. "Damn, he disappeared!" The boy lingered on the bathroom hallway, wondering if the puppet thing had to make a pit stop on his way to shove the teen into a new suit. "Nope, nope, not thinking about that." He growled, standing up and slamming the tablet onto the desk. The dining hall flashed up again, and the animatronics were still on the stage, staring at the camera. Mike adjusted the straps on his backpack and turned on the light for the left door. He peered down the hall – no one was in sight. If he made a run for it, he could reach the front doors and escape before the animatronics noticed him. All he'd have to do is flip the deadbolt on the door and he was home free.
Footsteps from the right hall lit a fire under his feet, and Mike took off. He heard something enter the office but ignored any words it may have said, the pounding of his heart drowning out all other sound. Quick, light footsteps were following him, but he shoved the thought of being chased out of his head. He just had to focus on the door. Focus on the door. Focus on the door.
That mantra filled his head, forcing out all other thoughts, including the memory of the tripwire he had set up a mere hour before. His foot caught on the wire, which ripped through his khaki pants and tore up the skin on his ankle. The teen went sprawling, barely catching himself before his head bounced off the dirty tiles. He rolled onto his back with a groan, pulling his foot free from the wire that had been yanked from the wall. The footsteps slowed as the puppet thing approached him, looking down from his dizzying height. He had to have been at least eight feet tall – his masked head almost brushed the ceiling. Mike did his best to move back, crab-walking into the wall before unsteadily pulling himself to his feet. His bleeding ankle protested at having weight put on it, but the teen ignored it in favor of staring up at what was surely his death.
The puppet thing smiled happily at him and daintily stepped over the trip wire. He reached out a three-fingered hand and rested it on Mike's shoulder. The boy flinched away from the touch, trying to slip out from beneath the things hand. Before he could even attempt to make a second run for it, the puppet thing put his other hand on Mikes other shoulder, pinning him in place against the wall.
"You're perfect!" The puppet exclaimed as he looked Mike up and down. The boy had absolutely no idea what it was referring to, but he was willing to bet the thing was sizing him up for a suit. The puppet yanked him away from the wall and, to the teens astonishment, pulled him into a hug. "The others will just love you!" The puppet purred, petting Mike with one hand while holding him close with the other. "You're going to solve everything, I just know it." The puppet held him at arms length once more. Seeing the boy had his backpack on, he figured there was nothing else he needed to grab while here. "Let's go home, Mikey!"
The five animatronics on the stage watched as the boy mouthed the word 'home' in confusion before the puppet poofed them both away. Freddy dusted off his top-hat (out of habit, mind; he would never allow it to actually become dusty) and placed it neatly between his ears.
"Well," he finally interrupted the pleasant silence, "that's one way to get rid of an endo."
The five, free from their job of haunting the night guard, dispersed to their own chores and hobbies. Only Golden Freddy remained on the stage, an amused smile quirking at his lips. He did hope the puppet knew what he was getting into with this half-cocked scheme of his.
AN: WOW! Thank you SO MUCH for the response, you guys! I was delighted to wake up this morning and see so many reviews. They really lit a fire under me, and I couldn't wait to get this chapter done. I hope y'all enjoy it!
Reviews are WELL LOVED and CUDDLED and SO SO SO APPRECIATED! And thanks to all who reviewed the first chapter!
