A/N: Super-Duper-Ultra-Mega-Pooper-Scooper Shoutouts to A Wandering Reader and Mamamu-yan for being awesome people and helping me get this chapter out to you guys. Without them, it would have taken me at least another week! They're both fantastic people, and I really do recommend you give their profiles a look-see and fave their fanfics. They're fantastic!
So, without further ado, I truly hope you enjoy! However, I must warn the squeamish: This is a very dark chapter which contains a SUPER IMPORTANT plot device! Proceed with caution!
Mike felt numb as he made the abnormally long trip from the Show Stage to his office, surprised upon realising ten minutes had already passed by the time he reached the West Hall Corner. He didn't know how to feel. Should he have been thankful, due to now having literally no reason to return to Freddy's after completing this last shift, or should he have been depressed due to him leaving his old friends?
What's worse, if he did leave, it would be their fault. He didn't want to know how his pals would be feeling at the thought of that. At least, Mike THOUGHT they were his pals. Were they really, though? Did they treat all the previous night guards the same way? Was it programmed into them, hard-wired to be his friends from the very beginning?
Mike couldn't help but become lost in thought, moving to scratch his stubble once again.
However, upon rounding the corner into his office, he let out a rather loud swear word at the sight that lay – or rather, hung – before him.
Amidst his soul-crushing, Chica-related depression, Mike had completely forgotten about the phantom employer that seemed to plague him night after night. Thus, it came as a huge surprise when Mike saw the mysterious man hanging by his neck, the thick rope wrapped around it lifting him from the floor only a few feet away from his chair. He faced the door that the unsuspecting night guard had just walked through, making unnervingly precise eye contact.
He still swayed ever-so slightly, causing Mike to feel sick to his stomach. Either the man had died recently, or someone else had passed through the room before Mike had. Hesitantly passing off the swaying as nerves, Mike reluctantly inched towards the body. He grimaced in fear as he noticed his employer had been smiling on the moment of his apparent suicide, the man bearing a toothy grin as he limply swung.
Mike's trembling hand reached out towards the man's neck, figuring he may as well try and see if he was alright. However, the fumbling night guard had no such luck. His fingertips only met cold, lifeless pale flesh. Sighing shakily, Mike rubbed his tired eyes and sat down in his leather chair.
He decided that calling his parents would likely be the best thing he could do to take his mind off of the – still staring – corpse, his shaking fingers slowly pressing the large numbered buttons on his mobile.
He had wanted to call his mom and dad ever since he had completed his first night shift, to tell them the horrible mistake he had made by applying for the job in the quaint little pizzeria, but he'd never had the heart to. He knew that if his mom and dad had found out what was going on before he had completed his week, they would likely be willing to risk losing all of their money in court than allow him to stay there any longer.
Now, though, it seemed he wouldn't have to worry about that. He was leaving the pizzeria for good in eight hours, after all. He could start anew, be a superstore clerk or something. Jobs were aplenty, and he could work with numbers. He would do well in that environment.
But, as he thought about other jobs, his thoughts always returned to Chica. Of how cute she always seemed to be; of her dazzling smile, her bright pink eyes, eyes that always seemed so intelligent, and of her easily-lovable personality.
Mike then felt something else.
Reluctance.
He, all of a sudden, felt as though he didn't want to leave the pizzeria. To leave Chica. Hell, he didn't want to leave Freddy or Bonnie, either. He even felt hesitant to leave Foxy, to some strange degree. Despite the pirate's multiple attempts at killing him, the times they had shared together during Mike's childhood would forever place the pirate on some sort of strange pedestal in his heart.
Mike smiled a sour smile and turned his gaze to the checkered floor of his office as he thought about leaving his beloved friends, completely unaware of a peculiar creaking noise coming from only a few feet away from where he was seated. He took a deep breath as the phone finally connected, the sound of his mother's voice being emitted from the speakers.
As soon as he opened his mouth to speak, still staring at the floor, the voice of another overrode the sound of his own.
"You should never let your guard down in this place, Mike."
Mike looked up, instantly locking eyes with his employer, now far livelier than he should have been.
The man's arms shot out towards the young guard, his cold fingertips quickly finding their way around Mike's neck. Dropping his phone in shock, Mike let out a strangled scream. He could not help but look to where his phone had fallen, the device having been shattered into a multitude of pieces on the floor. He could not call anybody for help anymore, that was for sure.
His fingers tightening around the young man's neck, Mike's false employer swiftly turned towards the wall closest to him, throwing his subordinate at it in a feat of strength that should not have been possible for a man of his age.
Still attached to the ceiling by his rope, the man then kicked off of Mike's chair and wrapped his legs around his panicking employee's waist, keeping him pinned to the cold metal surface. Mike had hit the wall inches from the edge of his steel desk; had he collided with it, the rigid surface could have easily snapped his spine like a twig. Tightening his grip ever-further, the man flashed Mike yet another toothy grin.
Barely getting one last gulp of oxygen into his strained lungs, Mike used it to screech out to anyone that listened, praying that the animatronics could hear him.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? GET AWAY!"
He tried to head-butt the thrashing man that hung off of his waist, instead only serving to aggravate the psychopathic apparition ever-further. He repeatedly missed, the demon-turned-man predicting the multiple attempts that followed his first try. Forcefully pressing his thumbs onto Mike's throat in an attempt to cut off his air-flow, Mike's employer stared him straight in the eye before smacking the night guard against the wall behind him.
"You're so…PERSISTENT, aren't you, kid?!" Mike's wrinkled assailant yelled, his voice becoming slightly muffled in Mike's ears. An inky blackness began snaking its way into the centre of his vision as he began to get short of breath. Feebly clutching his homicidal zombie boss's cold arms, Mike began to grow weak. Sliding down the wall slightly, the night guard began to succumb to his body's fatigue.
Just have to close my eyes…just for a second, is all…Mike thought to himself, even his inner voice growing weak as oxygen slowly drained its way out of his brain. His grip loosened, and he eventually let go of his employer's arms, his bony hands still clutching the night guard's throat in a grip of steel.
"I…always…win." He hissed at Mike, the young man's ears only being able to hear unintelligibly muffled noise as his vision blurred. Upon shutting his eyes, however, Mike heard what sounded vaguely like a thunk before the icy feeling of his employer's fingers disappeared from his throat. Instantaneously, Mike's eyes opened once more as he fell to the floor, gratuitously gulping in lungfuls of oxygen.
As his vision cleared, he gazed into the glassy, shocked eyes of his employer, apparently dead once again. Propping himself up on his arms as air re-entered his lungs, Mike caught sight of a pair of old, tattered boots by the corpse.
Looking up, Mike was more than surprised at the sight that stood before him.
Wait…th-the janitor saved me?!
He had never really known the janitor all too well, the two never having spoken to one another much, explaining why he was so surprised about the man actively saving his life. He stood, his posture slightly slouched, as he regarded the corpse of Mike's 'employer' with an uncaring look, bloodied mop in hand.
"That'll hurt in the mornin', that will." He muttered to himself casually, wiping his nose with a finger. Mike had never noticed the man's strong Scottish accent before; amidst all the general background noise and hubbub of the pizzeria, it was hard to make out the smaller details.
Shakily standing up, allowing air to enter his body, Mike regarded the old man with a grateful look.
"I…I don't know what to say. I jus-…thank you. That man was…was gonna kill me. I-…just thank you." Mike stuttered out, still heavily shaken from his close encounter with the Reaper. The janitor simply waved his hand in a gesture of nonchalance, staring at the body for a second before beginning to mop up the pool of blood that had slowly begun to drain out of the man's head.
"Ach, t'was nothin', lad. I was getting' tired'a the old fart, meself." He blurted out, causing Mike to perform a double take.
"Wh-Huh? How long have you known this guy for?"
"Bah, longer than I'd like. He's been doin' this fer years now. Stranglin' night guards, that is. Aye, I've even killed 'im more than once ta save you folks. Always seems ta come back. It's strange." The elderly janitor replied, adjusting his glasses and stroking his ginger beard.
"So…he's immortal?" Mike asked, his voice laced with dread. The Scotsman in front of him scoffed, leaning on his bloodied mop handle.
"Aye, I s'pose ye can put it that way. 'E was jus' a child, a long time ago. Back when Fredbear's was still goin'. I used ta work there, y'know. Always been the janitor fer these places. Ain't nobody done a better job at it than me." He continued, Mike now catching a faint, but strong, whiff of the Scot's gin-laced breath. Grimacing slightly, Mike readied himself for further interrogation of the man.
However, as he went to ask his next question, the rumbling of multiple heavy footsteps interrupted him abruptly. Thundering down the West Hall, the footsteps progressively got closer as Mike flinched, still jumpy from his employer's assassination attempt. The janitor merely continued to stand stock-still, leaning on his broom, completely unfazed.
Freddy was first to round the corner, followed closely by Chica and Bonnie, the latter seeming to drop a slight smile upon seeing Mike. Freddy first looked to Mike's surprised face, then to the body that lay in front of him, then finally to the janitor. Placing his thick paws on his round head, Freddy fumbled with his words.
"Ha-buuh, I-h-whu…What the BEJEEZUS is going on in here?!" His deep voice thundered, voice cracking to a comedically high pitch upon reaching the crescendo of his frantic question.
Mike simply waved at the bear awkwardly, shuffling away from the pool of blood slightly. The janitor once again got to mopping it up, muttering to himself as he did so.
"Hey, Freddy…" Mike trailed off, unsure of what he could say that would help in making the situation he was in look sane. Freddy stared, unblinking, for a few seconds before pointing at the body in a fit of horror.
"WHY IS THERE A DEAD GUY ON MY FLOOR?!" He babbled, his exaggerated facial expression making him look as though he had arrived straight from a Disney cartoon. Mike sighed, looking at the Scotsman behind him.
"It's a long story. You, er, may want to get something to eat." Mike muttered, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture of embarrassment. At the mention of the word 'eat', Chica immediately perked up.
"I'm all fer dat!" She exclaimed happily, seemingly entirely unfazed by the dead body on the pizzeria floor. Upon receiving strange looks from both Freddy and Bonnie, Chica looked confused. "…What? Is dere somethin' on my beak?"
After about an hour had passed, Mike finished explaining the events that had transpired earlier on in the night. The janitor had stuck around to hear it, seemingly interested in what had happened before he had arrived. Freddy simply stood in front of Mike silently, too baffled for words.
"So…you were nearly throttled by…an old man?" He eventually asked, his green eyes wide and uncomprehending. Mike merely nodded in response. Looking to the floor, Freddy sagged his shoulders almost imperceptively; he seemed to have been sighing, though it would have been made more obvious had he had lungs.
"Oh, boy. Think of what harbouring a dead body'll do to our reputation." The bear muttered to nobody in particular, his expression bitter yet professional. At his remark, his semi-circular ears twitched as he heard a derisive snort from the other side of the room.
Looking up at the source of the sound, he was met with a sour glare from the janitor, whom had insisted that Mike call him 'Crazy Dave' as 'everyone else does already'. The man spit on the checkered floor in defiance before promptly mopping it up again.
"That dinnae stop ye from shovin' innocent people inta suits like bloody couch stuffin', though, did it?" He venomously rebutted, resting his broom on the wall. Freddy bared his cylindrical teeth at the man.
"Oh, now you're speaking out of your ass. You wouldn't be saying that if my hand hadn't slipped all that time ago, would you?" Freddy replied agitatedly. At this, the Scotsman a few feet across from him slowly ran a rough hand across his own cheek, feeling the indentation of a thick scar as he did.
"Maybe not. But ah wouldn't say it slipped." He muttered simply in response.
Sensing the tension that was thick in the air, Chica decided to take matters into her own hands. Standing up, she attempted to diffuse the situation. Raising her hands into the air happily, she announced, "Hey, dere's no need t' be such meanie-pantses, guys! Dis is Mikey's last night! We should be havin' fun; celebratin'! Come on, guys, waddaya say?"
Looking hopefully to Freddy, it quickly clicked in the mind of the bear that she wanted an answer.
Fumbling with his bow-tie, he muttered, "Oh, yes, of course. Heh." Before turning to Mike and staring him in the eye. "I'm terribly sorry about that, Mike. Chica is, of course, correct. This is a good night for you; we should celebrate it and remember the short time we had you with us." He finished solemnly, clutching his top hat to his chest in an apologetic manner.
"Bah, it's nothin', big guy. No worries." Mike replied, smiling at the animatronic bear that leaned over him anxiously. Smiling, Freddy then raised his voice, seeming to be attempting to imitate typical TV show announcers.
"Well then…llladies and gentlemen, let us commence the fun!" He shouted rambunctiously, extending his thick arms towards the ceiling whilst smiling a wide grin. Chica cheered for the bear's extravagant announcement, Mike grinning as Bonnie simply smirked. He leaned on the East Hall door, staring at Mike with a jealous gleam in his eye. Dave tutted to himself quietly.
Don't worry yourself, Bonnie. He's leaving tomorrow, and Chica's never gonna see him again. That gives you plenty of time to win her over. Smiling at his own reasoning, Bonnie slowly stood up entirely and joined in on the fun. Time ticked by, until eventually 12:00AM dawned upon the party-goers.
Crazy Dave swore to himself as he stared at the clock, Mike hearing him mutter, "Imma be late fer me chess game! Shite!" before the man bolted out of the room, seemingly heading towards the Backstage area. Chica let out a chuckle as she heard him yell, "Don'tchu worry, Endo! Imma comin'!" faintly.
Freddy turned to the West Hall door, tipping his top hat at the night guard reluctantly.
"Well, it's 12:00AM, and…you know the drill. Since we likely won't be seeing you tomorrow, I just want to say that it's been an absolute pleasure, Mike. I don't think any of us will be forgetting you any time soon." He remorsefully muttered, his sad eyes flicking over to Chica rapidly as he uttered his last sentence.
He took a step towards the door before Chica's eyes began to literally glow with inspiration.
"Freddy! Wait!" She began, waiting for the huge bear to turn to her quizzically before she began.
"Why don't we stay with Mike fer d' night? I mean, we've gotten ovah our violentness, n' if any uv us do turn, we've got two udder pals dere to hold us back!" The spring chicken propositioned, confidently fiddling with her apron. Her beak had upturned to form a smile.
Freddy's eyes gleamed with surprise at the idea, completely caught off-guard by Chica's surprisingly logical solution. If any of them did turn, there would, indeed, be two other animatronics of equal strength there to hold them back and stop them from hurting Mike! Plus, he would get free protection from Foxy! It was fool-proof!
Not to mention, with the Marionette out of commission, everything would go far more smoothly as a result!
His large face gaining a larger smile, Freddy turned to the chicken and placed a large hand onto her shoulder. "Chica, you are a genius!" He exclaimed, the three happy friends completely unaware of the red glare burning into them from the sidelines. There Bonnie stood, arms crossed as he scowled angrily.
Great. Just frickin' great. Six hours of Chica-Mike bonding time! Fantastic! Fan-goddamn-tastic! He thought to himself, his animatronic brain overloaded with anger. Well, what was six hours compared to a lifetime? Nothing to worry about, no doubt. He was just fretting over nothing, like some kind of housewife.
If no two humans could get that close to one another over the space of six hours, how could a human and an animatronic? It would be a moral battlefield! He had nothing to worry about.
Although, with the way Chica kept stealing glances at the young man's deep blue eyes, Bonnie still managed to find himself doubting.
Five minutes into the night, and not much had changed. Chica, Freddy and Mike were still simply goofing off, completely uncaring of the world around them. Bonnie still leaned by the East door, staring at them goof off. He could not help but occasionally find himself lost in Chica's beautiful pink eyes, though, finding that whole minutes would be shaved off of the clock whenever he did so.
He thought about asking her to have dinner with him after Mike was gone, in order to give them some extra bonding time to make up for the time that Mike had so carelessly stole from them. Nodding to himself, he decided that he would, indeed, do just that.
A few more minutes of uneventfulness passed, until a loud scraping sound reverberated throughout the pizzeria. The joyful air that Mike and the animatronics had about them quickly fizzled out, all three of them halting their shenanigans as they began looking at each other uncertainly. Bonnie's ear twitched, hearing the sound a little further off this time. It was coming from his side of the pizzeria.
Suddenly, it clicked in his artificial mind. Women liked a brave man; a man that would be willing to do anything to save his girl…this was his chance!
Putting on a courageous face, the bunny straightened up both his posture and his ears, gaining the attention of his two friends and Mike.
"That came from my side of the building. I'll go see what decided to make all that noise." He whispered, his voice carrying a hard edge to it. Chica and Freddy both fixed him with shocked gazes, their concern for his safety overriding their own worries. Mike, too, tensed up slightly at the bunny's mention of leaving the group.
"No, Bonnie! It's too dangerous! What if it's Fawxy?!" Chica asked worriedly, her face contorted into one of fear. Good. Everything was going exactly as Bonnie had envisioned it. The bunny balled up his purple fists, already having turned to face the door. He looked over his shoulder at the chicken, his smirking face hiding his intense nervousness. He didn't want her to know he was a coward, after all.
"Well, I'll jab him with a…right hook." He replied, breathily muttering the punchline of his pun to Chica. He then promptly lumbered out of the office as Freddy, Chica and Mike all stood in the centre of the room, at a collective loss for words.
Then, after a few seconds, Mike spoke.
"Oh! Right HOOK! I get it! I guess that's…kinda funny…" He exclaimed, the two animatronics next to him 'Oh'ing in unison as they figured out the purple bunny's joke.
"That's…kind of a crappy line to go out on, huh?" Mike continued, Freddy unable to help himself as he nodded.
Meanwhile, Bonnie had traversed the West Hall as silently as a huge animatronic rabbit could, his red eyes darting around the Party Room as he pushed open the doors leading to it. His large mouth was hanging open slightly, unable to help it as he felt a tight knot of fear within his metal stomach. He wanted to return to the office badly, but he knew that Chica would not respect him if he did.
Thus, he continued on into the murky blackness of the pizzeria, unaware of the pair of white eyes in the corner of the room that seemed to watch his every movement.
Mike, Freddy and Chica were bored, to say the least; they had already exhausted all of their games, and they were only about thirty minutes into the night! Assuming Bonnie was still investigating the pizzeria, nobody had begun to question his lengthy disappearance yet. Mike sat, slumped over in his chair, as he read a magazine that he had found whilst rummaging through the drawers on his office desk. Freddy had recommended it to him, and Mike could definitely see why.
The magazine was named 'Gentleman's Weekly'; he had been delving into an article about why men had to keep their monocles properly polished at all times when Chica let out an audible yawn. As both Freddy and Mike looked over to her, the chicken having sat on Mike's desk, she regarded them both with tired pink eyes.
"Me waking you up early must have taken a worse toll on you than I'd suspected…" Mike trailed off regretfully, staring at the drowsy chicken with apologetic eyes. Chica stared back at him, smiling caringly.
"Don'tchu worry, Mikey. It's just the boredom, s'all. It ain't your fault, I prawmise." She reassured him, getting up to rest a gentle hand on his shoulder. Shocked, Mike stared at the hand for a few seconds, unsure of what to say.
He looked into the chicken's eyes, and she did the same to him. They locked gazes for what felt like hours, but were actually minutes. Eventually, with Freddy watching excitedly, Chica began to move her beak closer to Mike's mouth. Mike, caught off guard, quickly licked his dry lips before puckering them slightly, the chicken moving ever-closer.
They locked lips.
Or, at least, they would have if not for Chica veering downwards at the very last second, causing Mike's lips to miss hers completely. She instead laid her head on his chest and sat on his lap before slowly closing her vibrant eyes, falling into the enticing clutches of sleep.
Freddy smacked his own face with a thick paw, groaning in annoyance.
Oblivious to Freddy's plight to hook the pair up, Mike tensed up for but a few seconds as he stared in surprise at the exhausted animatronic that was currently lying on top of him. He quickly relented in his attempts at waking her up again, though, instead simply slumping back in his chair as he noticed how adorable she sounded when snoring.
That's the best he's going to get, isn't it? Freddy thought to himself as he sighed.
"Hello? Anybody in here?" Bonnie exclaimed to no one in particular, the pizza-laden walls of the pizzeria becoming far more unnerving in the dark. He had never really been himself at night; he had always reverted to his night mode. Was this how those poor night guards felt?
Slowly readjusting his red bowtie, the purple bunny proceeded onwards into the gloom.
He had to find something, for crying out loud! He needed to assert his dominance in front of Mike! Please let me find just a stray cat or something, anybody that is listening… The bunny begged silently, raring to beat something up.
Then, a noise from backstage.
Ears twitching slightly, Bonnie turned to look at the large door to the small room, the grey material near-seamlessly blending into the blackened environment of the restaurant. Wringing his hands nervously, Bonnie lumbered towards the door.
It felt like an age had passed as his large hand reached up to rest on the cold, smooth surface, the nervous purple bunny trembling with both excitement and fear. Gathering up his determination, the animatronic mammal pushed the door open and charged into the confined area recklessly. His large feet slid to a halt as he leaned on the table in the middle of the room, surveying the scene that had unfolded within its iron walls.
Costume heads had been knocked off of the multiple shelves lining the – usually restricted – section of the pizzeria, piles of eyeless Freddy masks having accumulated on the reflective floor. The endoskeleton that usually sat on the metal table Bonnie had been resting on mere moments ago was nowhere to be seen, appearing to have either been carried away or to have slunk off to some other part of the building.
The props that sat in the corner of the room appeared to have been raided, the numerous guitars and microphones that usually sat there having dwindled in number significantly. Upon closer inspection, Bonnie realised the ones that had been taken were cracked and splintered on the other side of the room; something had thrown them.
Growing agitated, Bonnie had had enough. Balling his heavy fists up in anger, he turned to the opposite corner of the room and began to warily look around. As he did so, he began to shout.
"Whoever the Hell's done all this crap…knock it off! Otherwise, I knock you down!" He warned aggressively.
Footsteps began to audibly shuffle from what sounded like an area behind one of the walls.
The large bunny rabbit scowled, his head following the noise. He knew where the owner of those footsteps was hiding. The faint noise was coming from the room that the company had stored the…spares…in. Grunting to himself, Bonnie realised the culprits of all the damage were likely a group of hooligans that had been feeling lucky when they saw the defenceless pizzeria. Cracking his large knuckles, the rabbit decided to take it upon himself to teach the hapless teenagers the error of their ways.
Near-silently pushing the Freddy mannequin that blocked the entrance to the storage compartment aside, Bonnie got ready to pounce upon nearing the cloth that covered the enormous tunnel to it with his three-fingered hand. Deciding to turn his eye-lights on, so as to look more menacing, the animatronic deftly swiped the sheet of artificial steel away.
What he saw on the other side of the fabric, however, was certainly not a group of hooligans.
"What the-! Y-You! But…But you were deactivated! You shouldn't be here!" He yelled, terror causing him to abandon subtlety. The purple rabbit slowly began to back away from the tattered animatronic that stood only a few feet away from him, the other robot beginning to slowly give chase.
It fixed Bonnie with a wordless gaze, one of its eyes being locked into a permanent stare-off with the restaurant's tiled steel floor. Robotic ears weakly twitched as the long-forgotten piece of tech registered the bunny's terrified exclamations, but did nothing about them. Instead, it simply continued to lumber towards him mindlessly.
Lower jaw quivering, Bonnie began to paw at the air behind him in pursuit of the door he had entered through. He could only find air, however.
And then the sound of the door closing filled his large ears.
Turning around hesitantly, Bonnie gasped in horror at the sight of another one of the rejects, still resting its iron hand on his only way out of the room with an air of disturbing finality. Turning around once again, overwhelmed with the prospect of having to fend off two of them at once, he did not expect to see the Puppet staring back at him.
Nearly leaping back before promptly remembering the other reject that was likely closing in, Bonnie instead simply flinched as he screamed. He desperately tried to find a way around the mime-like entity to no avail. She then promptly grabbed him and dragged him over to the metal table in the centre of the room, not a word exchanged between them.
Laying him down roughly onto it, the Puppet simply smiled a sweet smile upon hearing the bunny groan in pain. She then clicked her fingers with leader-like authority, silently pointing at Bonnie's confused face. She then walked off.
Bonnie tried to lean up and see where she had gone, but did not get very far as he was quickly pinned down once again by the unnerving duo of scrapped automatons. They leered down at him through dull, listless eyes, their blank metal faces taunting him malevolently.
Bonnie thrashed in their arms, but they were simply too strong. They had been built with him in mind, after all. He tried frantically to apologise to them for what had transpired between them over the years, but he did not get very far. His pleas instead descended into maddening screams for mercy as he noticed the Puppet appear from a corner of the room, the sadistic megalomaniac clutching one of the many fallen Freddy masks in an eager grip.
She grinned at the helpless rabbit; a terrible sight, indeed. Seeming to have been completely ignoring his terror, the Puppet nonchalantly glanced at the Freddy mask a few times.
"What are you so worried about? It's not like I'm going to hurt you or anything!" She sarcastically remarked, promptly laughing at her own wit thereafter. She then raised her claws, lovingly inspecting them as a doctor would his needles.
"Well…this might sting a little, actually." She muttered icily, rapidly plunging all three of her thick claws deep into the purple animatronic's suit. He screamed in pain, frantically kicking his legs out to hit at air. A fleck of oil hit the Puppet's face, prompting her to enter a laughing fit as she began to slowly drag her claws downwards, the steel blades still being embedded into Bonnie's 'flesh'.
Screaming in terror and pain, Bonnie violently thrashed on the table, overcoming the animatronics that had pinned him down for a split second. The Puppet finally drew her claws out of the rabbit's skin upon feeling them hit the table underneath him; looking down at her work proudly, she smacked the purple bunny's face to get his attention. Already he had begun to grow weak form oil loss. She couldn't have that.
"Well, would you look at that...It's a clean hole!" She uttered to a – now drowsy – Bonnie, breaking out into another laughing fit. Oh, how she loved moments like this. Mockingly poking her long finger through the hole she had made and feeling it hit the table through the rabbit, the Puppet raucously snickered to herself.
However, she was far from done.
Bonnie's screams were muffled by the closed door of the backstage area, ensuring that nobody unwanted would be able to hear his anguish. His torture went on for another two hours after that, the Puppet being quick to bind up his wounds and refill him with oil whenever she noticed him growing weak.
Then, once she was finished with her work, her masterpiece was complete.
She tauntingly held up a mirror for the heavily wounded Bonnie, allowing him to see her improvements. The rabbit made no visible reaction to seeing his mangled, torn face, simply fixing the reflective surface with a droopy-eyed stare.
Yes. She had broken him.
Now the real fun could commence.
Completely alienated to the outside world in only two hours, Bonnie's mind was empty. The Puppet had, effectively, brainwashed him through torture, and he could do nothing about it. Sitting up as the Puppet ordered her minions to release him, the bunny looked to her for guidance.
She simply stood, completely silent, for a few moments as she lovingly admired her work.
She had scratched off most of his artificial fur, leaving only the rotten, olive skin of his suit beneath. She had chopped off part of his right ear, leaving only a thick stump with coloured wires jutting out of the gap. She had sliced his muzzle brutally, carving his mouth into a sick permanent smile as segments of his lip slowly flaked off and into his own mouth.
Well, it wasn't necessarily his muzzle, per-se. She had, in fact, ripped his original face off and replaced it with one of the Freddy masks from the floor; she had, of course, promptly stripped it of all of its fur soon afterwards.
She had carved an enormous hole into his rancid chest, exchanging the bunny's red bow-tie for one of Freddy's black ones. She had even gone so far as to alter his endoskeleton ripping off its feet before shoving 'stilts' onto the ends of his legs, causing him to become at least a foot taller than he had been before.
Yes, he was her pride and joy. He was a walking example of what would happen to animatronics who defied her, and she loved it. However, Bonnie would simply be a name unbefitting for her prince; for her son. It would bring back too many foul memories of the purple bunny and his ruining of her fun with Foxy.
No, the bunny definitely needed a new name.
And she knew exactly what that name would be.
Investing another 10 minutes of the night into teaching the animatronic his new name through brute force, the Puppet soon found herself clutching her own temples in frustration. He just wasn't getting it! She needed this change, though; she needed it so much that she would have been willing to kill her real son to make the stupid robot learn that name.
It was her ticket to full control of the pizzeria, for God's sakes.
As the rejects stood entirely still, entranced by segments of the wall or the floor, the Puppet tried once again.
"For the last goddamn time…what is your NAME?" She snarled at Bonnie, the mouldy-olive-coloured husk that had once had a personality slowly turning his head towards her. His grey eyes locked with her white pupils as she glared angrily at him.
Then he spoke.
His deep, warbling voice sounded like a thousand rusty gears grinding up against one another, but he actually spoke.
"Sp…Spring…traaaap." He grunted, his new voice box having been replaced with one of the pizzeria's old spares, once again giving him extreme difficulty in speaking in normal situations.
And, well, any situation involving the Puppet was anything but normal.
Instantly raising her head at the sound of a voice that was not her own, the Puppet smiled in delight as she saw her big boy saying his first word; of course, his mouth moved as if she had replaced his hydraulic joints with toffee, but she was still proud of her creation.
"I…say that again." She beamed, her sadistic personality being briefly replaced by maternal instincts.
"M-My…naaaame…i-isss…Sp-Spriiiingtraaaaap." Bonnie slowly answered; except he was Bonnie no longer.
His mother said he was Springtrap now.
And Springtrap could not have been happier.
"That's...that's right, sweetie! Your name IS Springtrap!" The Puppet replied, elated beyond relief as she briefly hugged the horrifying abomination that she had spawned. "…And who are these?" She soothingly asked, gesturing to the rejects as they continued to stare at walls aimlessly.
"B-Brotheeeeerrrss…" Springtrap replied simply, deciding not to put himself through unnecessary pain in exchange for eloquent sentences. His whole body burned constantly as things were; he did not need to amplify that feeling.
"Yes! Brothers! These are your brothers!" The Puppet said, overjoyed, before quickly hesitating.
"Oh. And sister, hehe. Sorry." She muttered, apologising to one of the other rejects. It simply stared back.
"So…why are you called Springtrap?" She asked sinisterly, already knowing the answer.
"Beca-Because…Springtr-trap…kill…peeeests…" The olive rabbit beast answered, his ears drooping slightly upon the mentioning of death.
"And what are Freddy and Mike to you, sweetie?" She asked sternly, hiding her anxiousness behind her motherly tone. If her boy still considered them friends, even after all she'd done for him…
Well.
"Bear…peeeest. M-Miike…peeeest." He answered, adamant in pleasing his mother.
She clasped her clawed hands together, delighted out of her mind.
Yes, this was indeed her son.
"And…my sweet child, what exactly to you do to pests?" She asked, her voice carrying a certain edge. The night was dwindling quickly; they needed to act now, and the Puppet was not willing to waste any more time.
Springtrap stared his 'mother' straight in the eye, knowing the answer and taking delight in that knowledge.
"I…Springtrap.
I…kill…pests."
Another A/N Oh My God: YES! I'm SO happy with this chapter! Everything went perfectly, and thanks to my school being generous, I didn't get any homework today! Free days are pretty cool, heh.
Another thing: Crazy Dave belongs to A Wandering Reader, one of my fantastic reviewers! He will be in an upcoming fanfic of his, so definitely go give it a read! With Dave in it, it's bound to be a barrel of laughs!
Also, be sure to send me character ideas if you come up with them! I may not be actively asking for them, but I will definitely be willing to accept them if I like them! ^.^
So…this one was a dark chapter. Of course, I adore dark chapters, but you guys might not. What did you think of it? Should I focus on making my chapters darker form hereon?
Also, did you like the pathetic attempts at humour I threw into the middle of the chapter, there? Heh. Personally, I could smell the cheese from behind my flippin' computer screen. :B
What did you think of the so close, yet so far moment between Chica and Mike during the middle segment there? I am SO sorry in advance, by the way. That was mean, and I loved writing it. xD
What do you think of Springtrap's arrival in the fanfic? Also, who could the rejects be? It's pretty obvious, once you think about it. Trust me. If the wait is going to tear you apart, however, then be sure to visit my DeviantART page! I'll link it on my profile; I post pictures hinting at chapters in progress there! Give it a look-see, why not? ;3
Finally, what you've all (hopefully) been waiting for…
SHOUTOUUUUUTS!
*Space Jam music plays in the background*
Godzilla King of Monsters: OH MY GOODNESS, ALMIGHTY REPTILE KING! I'M SO SORRY! Er, I mean, almighty dinosaur king! No, wait. Dragon king?
Pokemon king?
That might be it.
Coldjack007: Trust me, the shameless exposition does not end there! My headcanon has only just begun! You must see my true power to believe it!
Guest: NOOOO! YOU WERE SO YOUNG!
*Picks up small strips of Guest whilst sobbing*
UnsafestMoss81: Hopefully this does it for you, man! Hope you enjoyed! :3
The Wandering Reader: Z0MG 2 SHOUTOUTS? HH-WHOOAAA!
Seriously, though, I'm super happy you're gonna stick around, man. ^.^ Hope you like where the story is going! I also hope you liked my interpretation of Dave!
Solaris456: Thanks so much, man! Glad to see you've stuck around :D
NameHere: Haven't you learnt a thing, my dear? There IS no happiness in MY fanfics!
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! *Thunderclap*
Mamamu-yan: OH MY GOOD GRAVY, THANK YOU SO MUCH!
I've genuinely been having trouble trying to reply to that; it's such wonderful praise, and I sincerely have no idea how to respond. Hopefully, a Super-Ultra-Mega-Super-Duper-Pooper-Scooper shoutout will suffice! I truly hope you'll stick around, man. I'm so glad you like my fic! ^.^
Welp, that's it! Thanks for reading this chapter, and I will SEE YOU…in the next one. Buh-byeee!
