Chapter six: Consequences

Douglas knocked on Griffiths' office door.

"Come in," the manager replied from the other side. Douglas obeyed.

"Good afternoon, Douglas," Griffiths said. "Have a seat. Have you investigated the warehouse?"

"Yes, sir."

"And," Griffiths said, "did you find what you were looking for?"

"Yes, sir," Douglas affirmed. "That's actually why I'm here."

"You found evidence of dirty secrets?"

"No. I found…something else."

Griffiths raised an eyebrow.

"Old animatronics, sir," Douglas said. "Like, really old. They were damaged pretty badly. I have no idea for how long they've been there."

Griffiths straightened his back, interested. "Old animatronics, you say… Did they look anything like our current ones?"

"Yes, sir. They looked very much like the ones on the stage."

"Did Bonnie's doppelgänger have purple skin?"

Douglas blinked. "How did you know that, sir?"

"I started working at Freddy's very early," Griffiths explained. "Even before I was done studying, and even before Freddy's was opened to the public. I started off as a janitor, believe it or not. Anyway, thanks to frequent glitching, the animatronics they were building at the time were ultimately scrapped—or, rather, they were supposed to be scrapped."

For some reason, Douglas felt a cold feeling in his veins. As if he was about to learn something he really didn't want to know anything about.

Griffiths sighed. "As it turns out, this never happened. And I believe I know why that is."

Douglas gave him a questioning look.

"There was one employee," Griffiths continued. "Bill Afton. I talked to him once, but I can't say I knew him. He was apparently the best engineer they had, and one of the animatronics' main creators. He went ballistic when it was announced that the animatronics were going to be scrapped."

"You…you think he somehow locked the animatronics in there in order to prevent them from being scrapped? But how'd he have done that without being noticed?"

"I don't know, but it doesn't matter now. Since you've rediscovered these old models, we can still disassemble them for spare parts."

It was then that Douglas knew what that icy feeling in his veins was.

The only reason why Griffiths hadn't scrapped the old models was because he didn't know they still existed. And now that Douglas had told him about them, the manager was going to scrap them anyway.

Of course there was a chance that the prototronics weren't sentient…but that wasn't a chance worth taking.

"U-uh, c-can't we fix them up?" Douglas desperately blurted out.

Griffiths frowned. "Why would we? We already have animatronic performers that are outfitted with more advanced technology. Any more animatronics of the same type would be redundant."

"W-what about the foxes? We've got two of those, a-and they're not redundant…"

Griffiths frowned again. "Is something wrong, Douglas? You seem very intent on keeping these old animatronics from being scrapped."

Douglas swallowed. "N-nothing, sir," he finally said. "I'm-I'm fine."

"Alright then…" Griffiths glanced at his paperwork. "Well, I'm going to have to make an official plan for recovering those old animatronics. I have to get to that as soon as possible."

"R-right, sir." With shaking legs, Douglas rose from his seat. "I-I have to go, sir."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm alright, sir."

With those words, Douglas left the office.

12 a.m.

"Guys…" Douglas said to the three girls on the main stage. "We've got problems."

"We heard," Bonnie said, gesturing to the bunny ears on her head. "The old animatronics are in trouble. We have to do something."

"What can we do, though?" Chica asked. "Where do we start?"

"I may have an idea," Freddy spoke up after a moment of silence. She looked to Douglas. "Douglas, since you're the only one who can leave the restaurant, this will have to be done by you."

"I know," Douglas said. "Just tell me what I have to do…"

"You have to seek out this Bill Afton. Kyle said he went mad when the company decided that the animatronics were to be scrapped. Why would he get so angry over such a thing? Sounds like he knew about their sentience, and he did not want them killed. He is the only one who may be willing and able to help us."

"That might actually work," Chica said. "Assuming he was responsible for making them disappear last time…"

"This Bill Afton…" Foxy spoke up from the doorway ahead. She'd appeared there without Douglas noticing. "I think I might've heard his name somewhere. It sounds kinda familiar."

"He was the best engineer they had at the time," Douglas said. "One of the prototronics' creators. I guess that kind of history tends to make you…well-known around the company."

Foxy shrugged. "I guess. But what now? You goin' to call this guy tonight?"

"… No. Not while he's asleep."

"Ah, right." She showed a grin. "Sleep. I keep forgettin' how much you humans depend on that."

Despite the situation, everyone's spirits were a bit lifted by her amused tone and relaxed air.

At least there was that.

Douglas was sitting in the office, resting his head in his hands.

Too many things were happening at once. First there was his father expressing his not-so-positive opinion about Douglas' job. Then there was the matter about the prototronics. What started as an insignificant but interesting adventure into the restaurant's past had eventually turned into a disaster—simply because Douglas couldn't keep his mouth shut.

He was wondering… If Griffiths succeeded in scrapping the prototronics, could Douglas be considered complicit? Of course, he wasn't the one who scrapped them, but it was his fault that Griffiths knew about the prototronics in the first place.

He sometimes thought back to what his father had said. Douglas felt ashamed and furious at the same time. Ashamed because his father was so disappointed. Furious because, despite his age, he apparently still wasn't allowed to make decisions for himself without being chastised.

He started when he saw something move in the vent on the left side of his office. He relaxed when the brown-haired recruit crawled out. The anime-tronic stood up and stretched.

"Hi," Douglas said, looking from her to the vent and back.

She grinned in amusement. "Heya. How're you doing?"

Douglas shrugged. "Fine."

"Yeah, I hear you say that a little too often."

Douglas looked down. Of course she looked right through him. The anime-tronics always felt it whenever something was bothering him. Even the new ones had that ability, it seemed.

"Look," the brunette said, "you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but I'll be more than happy to listen."

That was…kind of new. So far in Douglas' experience, the anime-tronics had always just told him to say what was bothering him. As good as their intentions were, their methods proved a little too direct. This newcomer gave him more freedom than that.

"I-it's…not one thing," Douglas finally said. "There's just been so much going on lately."

"You mean with those oldies you found in the warehouse."

"Among other things…"

She tilted her head.

Douglas sighed. "Well, I guess there's no harm in telling you." He hesitated. "How much did the others tell you about my past?"

"Not much. They said it wasn't really their place to tell."

"Alright, well…" He swallowed. "I-I won't bore you too much with the details…but basically, I recently found out that my dad doesn't like me having this job."

She frowned. "Why's that?"

"It's…complicated. I-I'm a college dropout…and my father doesn't like that too much. He wants me to start over so I can get a job that matches my education."

"Let me guess—you don't feel like doing that."

"Yeah." He hesitated. "I…didn't really have many friends before I started working at Freddy's. Now that I do, I like it here."

"Your dad doesn't care about that? That you've got friends here?"

"He thinks it'll be easy for me to find other friends at…wherever he wants me to work."

She regarded him. "Alright," she finally said, "I know this isn't my business, but it's not your father who's supposed to be controlling your life."

"I know, I just…" He sighed. "I rarely ever saw eye to eye with him, and getting his approval was always so difficult. I don't want things to get worse between the two of us."

"That I understand. But still, this isn't your dad's decision. If you want to work here, then I guess that's something he has to deal with." She paused. "I'm sorry, did that sound too blunt?"

"No," Douglas quickly said. "It didn't."

A brief silence fell. The recruit then looked at the clock. "Oh, it's almost six." She looked to Douglas and visibly hesitated.

"You should go to your spot," Douglas said. "Before the morning guard gets here."

She nodded. "Don't let anyone tell you what to do, Douglas. You're your own man."

Douglas hesitated. "Does that…does that make me complicit?"

She frowned.

"I told Griffiths about the prototronics," Douglas softly said. "And now he's going to kill them."

"No," the recruit finally said. "That's not on you. You couldn't've known."

The alarm on Douglas' watch went off. It was six a.m..

The recruit vanished in the dark corridor ahead.