Chapter 10: The End ;)
Vincent! Stop hurling bread at us!" Mike yelled, blocking the bread from hitting his face.
"Yeah, what's the deal?!" Fritz shouted as well, catching the next piece of bread that was supposed to be instead plastered upon his face.
"Aren't we supposed to save him from the bread?" Jeremy stuttered out, dodging a whole loaf of dry rye, (lol it's still funny) letting it hit the wall behind him.
"Yeah, well it's kinda hard to do that when the captive is throwing the enemy at you!" Phone Guy added, grabbing a box out of nowhere a putting it over his head.
Fritz looked over at him, a confused expression taking place, Why the hell did he do that? He asked himself, then a piece of toasted bread hit the wall behind him, it just barely burning the tip his ear, "Ow, what the hell!" He yelled in pain, his hand immediately rubbing the spot.
"Hey!" They heard Jeremy call, "I got an idea!"
Just as Mike was starting to speak, Vincent had thrown two loaves of bread at Scott's head, and despite the box he had for protection, the force of the hit knocked him right out.
"Well, what is it!?" Mike frantically asked, watching Scott fall on his back.
Jeremy took out one of the three strawberry jars of jam he had grabbed at the beginning of the game and screwed the lid off, "We were supposed to use these, right?" He dodged another loaf of bread.
"Yeah, but we couldn't find anything to use them for," Fritz recalled, a piece of bread hitting him with a slap to the face. He muttered under his breath, "Ouch, that fucking hurt.."
Mike understood where Jeremy was going with this, "Oh, I see whatcha mean!" He did the same as Jeremy and screwed the top off of the jar he had gotten from the Puppet Box and scooped out a handful of the jelly, "Let's use it against him!" He threw it at Vincent, him getting it spot onto his face.
This caused Vincent to cease his rapid fire of bread and toast to wipe the disgusting, warm, slimy peach jelly off his face, and rethink his choice of providing them with ammo at the beginning of the game.
Maybe I should have let them find it instead.. He thought.
The three of them continued to use their jams and jellies against Vincent. The storage room went from bread cluttered, to, well, bread cluttered and slimy with jelly. Soon, Mike and Fritz had ran out of theirs. Even Scott was out as well, despite him being knocked out the whole time, the reason being Fritz and Mike using it. The only person left with one last scoop of strawberry jam in his hand, was Jeremy.
Fritz and Mike looked over at him, "Dude, make this one count!" Mike called over to him. He personally thought this game so far had been pretty unfair, some of the parts where it was most unreasonable being right now, given they've used their ammo and Vincent hasn't keeled over. Which even isn't the object of the game, now that Mike thought about it, but he didn't care that much any more and really wanted to get back at Vincent for all of the damn bread launchers.
Jeremy whipped his head around at them in surprise, he didn't expect them to run out so quickly. He looked down at the last scoop that was in his hand and back at Vincent, who had stopped throwing bread to glare at him with an evil smile. Instinctively closing his eyes, Jeremy threw his last scoop of jelly at Vincent, aiming for the face.
It splat against Vincent's chin, the smallest amount possible getting on his teeth, considering the aim was pretty off. His eyes grew extremely wide, then fell onto his side, making this horrible choking sounds that were diabolical to listen to, let alone be able to hear.
Mike blinked in disgust, "Vincent what shit are you pulling with us?" He put a hand on his hip.
Nobody noticing him, Scott groaned, feeling dizzy as he sat up. That bread hit him hard. He looked around and saw that Vincent was over on his side, hideously gagging.
"I-Is he allergic to strawberries?" Jeremy fretted.
Mike rolled his eyes, "Please, that right there is some serious bullshit."
"I doubt that, he's probably just overreacting," Fritz agreed, crossing his arms.
"Guys, seriously. What if, like, dies or something?" Jeremy still worried, glancing over at Vincent who was still gagging. He looked back over at Mike and Fritz who still had plain expressions on their face.
Mike blinked and then looked over at Fritz, "Eh," He shrugged, Fritz doing the same.
Scott hopped to his feet, spooking Jeremy who hopped back into a wall, "Ow," He winced, a stinging expression on his face.
Scott was about to say something when, they heard an abrupt banging on the doors, hearing voices behind them as well.
It sounded like a familiar girl's voice they all wish they never knew, "Frank, push the door open!" They heard her order in a whiny tone.
"No way! There might be something in there!" They heard a more masculine voice reply.
"No shit Sherlock! Now open it!"
The door then burst open, it slamming up against the wall with a loud bang.
"What happened in here?" The same girl's voice asked.
It was Molly, a cashier that worked all three of the shifts, given that she "Sat on her ass and counted all the money she couldn't have," as Mike had put it the day before when he had some free time before work. She had her blonde hair up in a ponytail, blue eyes that were lined with eyeliner along with dark eyeshadow, red lips with a mole to the left them, fair skin, and wore the uniform that was a red, short sleeved shirt, along with a pizza pin, name tag, red hat, black work slacks or black skirt, and her option of black pumps.
Mike, Fritz, and Scott whipped around to face her, Mike squinting his eyes in disgust at the sight of Molly.
"So you people are the Day shift workers," Fritz blinked. He never had seen them before, but has heard countless stories from Mike and Scott about them.
"More like Afternoon shift, gingerbread," Molly sneered with a smile.
Frank, who had been the one who pushed the door open, squinted his eyes at them, "So you guys are the Night Guards."
Fritz gawked at the insult, offended, "Yeah, we're the Night Guards. Why, in the name of fuck, did you lock us up in this damn place!?" He angrily asked.
The small group of nine to ten dayshift workers shuffled around to look at teenager, maybe younger than Jeremy who had black hair and green eyes.
"Jake, did you lock these guards in here?" Sasha asked, a black woman, with black hair and hazel eyes.
Jake looked nervously around, trying to find an excuse. He pointed at Vincent, "Uh, why is that purple guy tied up?"
Mike did a face palm, getting peach jelly on his forehead and a little on his hat. Keeping his hand on his forehead, he replied, "Well, while you pieces of shit were actually at your own homes, we were stuck here playing "Save Vincent", and in addition to the game, Vincent evidentially tied himself up."
Jake then pointed to Jeremy, who had stiffly sat down, "What about him?"
"Oh yeah, Jeremy, he just needs a doctor—"
"Which, I will take care of," Scott interrupted, taking his phone off his head and calling for an ambulance.
The rest of the Day shift workers left the sight and prepared the place for a party that was gonna happen.
That made Mike frown, We could have called for help!? He thought to himself, frustrated. He then turned to the kid, Jake, "Dude, did you seriously lock us in here?"
"I don't know if that's possible, Mike," Scott pondered, he had been put on hold despite the request for a freaking ambulance, "He works in the afternoon, not evening."
"Actually it was me," Jake confirmed.
Mike was a little surprised, they usually don't come clean, "Wait, what?"
"Yes, it was me, sorry," He restated, apologizing and taking a few steps away from Mike, "You see, when you apply for the job you have to stay here all day as a part of your 'training'. I saw you guys walk in and stuff, but you hung out in the office, so I never really saw you leave, and as my first assignment of working here, was to lock the place up."
Mike and Scott still gave him a harsh stare.
"Did I mention I was new and that yesterday was my first day here?" He squeaked.
Scott, shrugged, and got back on the line for that ambulance.
Mike squinted his eyes, leaning toward the new Day shift worker, "Listen, kid, one of the first things you'll learn here is that the Night Guards and the Day shift workers don't exactly get along. That's why we just do our jobs. I do mine, and you do yours. Now we guards have sort of a strife against you Day shift people, and shit like what you pulled by locking us in here, adds onto it. You know, we had a guy fired for doing something like that."
"Wait, how come you guys got your way?" Jake stuttered, a little scared of Mike.
"Because no one wants to watch over creepy-ass animatronics all night, except for crazy people like us. Boss can't find anyone else to do it except us," Mike explained, poking the new worker in the chest, "Now you learn your place, and I'll stay in mine, okay?"
Jake shook his head yes and dashed out to go help with the cleaning and such.
Vincent crept up behind Mike, poking him in the back.
Mike's shoulders immediately went up and he spun around to face him, "What do you want?" He snapped, rubbing the spot where he had poked him.
"Oh, I was just going to ask if you liked the game we played. You lost, but I had a good time," Vincent smiled thoughtfully, it looking creepy to Mike.
"Wait, we lost!?" Mike exclaimed in disbelief.
"Well, duh," Vincent blinked, "You didn't save me, I was still bound at the feet, you poisoned me with strawberry jam, and while you weren't looking General Jam killed me," He explained, his smile getting wider as he said the last part.
Mike frowned, "And we're we supposed to know that you were allergic to fucking strawberry jam!?"
Vincent cocked his head to the side, frowning a little, "I was choking on the floor, Mike."
"Still, it's not like I plow through all your personal shit. Not like I'd want to in the first place, you're fucking weird as fuck," Mike snapped.
Scott walked over to them, putting the telephone back on his head, "Well, the ambulance should be here in a few minutes. I also got Jeremy's insurance to get Boss to pay for his injuries and any possible surgeries, yeah, he's gonna be pretty pissed in the long run."
"Whatever, as long as Jeremy is back in his feet without support and back to working the night shift with us, we should be fine," Mike stated, crossing his arms.
Scott nodded in agreement, just now noticing Vincent.
And that was the end. The ambulance arrived, like, two minutes after their conversation ended, Jeremy's spine turned out to be just bruised and he needed to get all these kinds of scans at the hospital, which Boss paid for due to Jeremy's insurance. Mike, Fritz, and occasionally Scott worked the night shift, wishing the eighteen-year-old their best wishes. AND the Day shift workers possibly never pulled that kind of reckless bullshit ever again.
Or did they?
The. End.
Author's Note: Guy's you have no idea how long I've wanted to finish this story. The big reason I hadn't finished it any earlier was for the fact I had lost the journal I had written it all in. I literally just found it today this morning behind my printer (weird am I right?). Anyway, afterwards I went to school and all that, then came home and spent 4 hours typing this whole thing up. I'm really proud of myself for finishing this story, and I would also like to thank all of you who have followed and/or favorited this along with me.
As far as another story being out, I don't think I'll be on here for a very long time, but I do think I'll go ahead and edit this one. Like adding in italics and such, given I typed it that way in Word, but it didn't show up here.
BTW I wrote this story when I was 12 in journal, on in February 5th, 2015 and Finished it in there on the Valentine's Day, although it took me 6 days to write it. I started typing this somewhere between then and in March and then finished it today, Decemeber 4th, 2015.
Either way, thank you reading my story! I hope you enjoyed it! :)
~Fiery