William pulled into the driveway, clicking off the ignition. The sun was beginning to set, casting orange rays brightly his way. He stepped out of his car, locking it as he headed to the front door. When he walked in, however, something felt... off.
What was it? It was like something was missing, or misplaced. The air was cool, light, but at the same time, seemed to carry the weight of loss. Unnaturally quiet, too. There was no house sound apart from the dim hum of the refrigerator, but there was no TV on, there was no music playing from the upstairs bedrooms, nothing.
Something was wrong.
"Michael?" The man called, walking over the carpet. No response came as his eyes swept the living room and kitchen. Nothing there. William stepped upstairs, treading the carpeted hallway to the boy's bedroom. He couldn't stop the sharp intake of breath that flooded through his lungs as he was met with the sight of a barren room.
The man stepped inside, absolute confusion and panic setting in as he viewed his surroundings. Everything was gone... there were no posters hung on the walls, no radio on the dresser, shelves that once held comics and drawings empty. Even the bed was missing its quilt and pillow, only sheets remaining.
What on Earth?
William strode to the closet and was met with more emptiness. Not a single article of clothing could be found, and he noticed that the suitcase usually at the bottom of the closet was also missing.
The man's heart was beating faster and faster, hands trembling as he pulled closed its doors. Where was Michael? What was happening? Where was his son?
William's feet were taking him to the other empty bedrooms, mind not processing his movement as confusion and fear clouded his thoughts. These, the ones of his other children were largely untouched, but there were noticeable differences. For example, the laminated picture book Elizabeth made at school last year was no longer visible on her desk, and the golden Fredbear plush Chris used to play with was also gone from its place on his bed.
Things began clicking into place as the man hastened to his own bedroom. Nothing seemed to be awry in his own belongings, but as he moved to Clara's wardrobe, he realized her butterfly necklace was gone. Again, his feet moved him places he wasn't thinking of as he hurried downstairs.
As the man ran to his office, he noticed some family photos that once hung on the walls were absent from their perch, leaving dustless spots in their disappearance. William threw open the office door.
Immediately, it was apparent that something had happened here in his absence. The file cabinet was knocked over, documents and papers scattered on the floor in a hasty mess. William stepped inside almost cautiously, mouth agape as he viewed the scene. His eyes swept the floor, moving to his desk where a pile of the day's mail lay atop other files. Moving further upwards, they caught sight of the blueprints tacked to the wall. His heart stopped as the color drained from his face.
The top blueprints that usually hung in view were in place, apart from those of Ballora's. Hers had fallen, folded over to reveal the endoskeleton plans. William realized now what must have happened. His eyes flickered down to the mail on his desk and back up to the corkboard. Michael was no idiot-no child of his ever was. With promise of being a roboticist himself, he would have been able to figure the nature of William's animatronics if he looked hard enough.
And he obviously did.
Dark emotions were swirling inside the man as he clenched his fists. Intense anger, more towards himself than his son was most evident. He was sloppy with his secret-one of them. Heaven forbid that child discover any further ones.
But to the matter at hand-where was Michael? It was more than obvious that he had run away, but where? And to whom?
William drew a hand over his face, a growl rising in his throat. He certainly couldn't call the police with the given circumstances. What to do, what to do...
He honestly had no idea where Michael would have gone. The man sighed, pulling his hand down to his chin, tapping it in thought. As he browsed places in his head, his eyes caught sight of a paper, folded next to the mail on his desk.
William reached for it, opening it to find a written note in his son's handwriting. He felt his heart stop somewhat as his eyes scanned the first words.
Dad,
I know what you're probably thinking, since you probably have realized by now that I'm gone. I'm leaving home, and I don't know if I'm coming back. I don't know if I can come back.
Dad, I don't know what happened with Elizabeth, and I don't know why you built those machines the way you did, but I'm guessing it has something to do with Chris and his loss. I've figured out by now that you've hurt people, and I can't understand why, but if there's something I do know, it's that I still care about you.
For as long as I can remember, you've been a great father to me and to Elizabeth and to Chris. More so to them I think since you weren't around for me as much...you were always working, and I don't resent you for that, but there's so much you missed from my childhood. There's so much I don't think you know about me. I don't hate you for it, but it hurts knowing that they always got more attention from you than I ever did.
That's why I wound up with bad friends, I think. They all were in worse situations than I was with their parents, but I just kind of fell in with them. The way they took out their pain was on others, and they eventually got me to do the same with Chris. I regret so much from it, and I feel the pain of every mean thing I said to him, every time I scared him, every time my actions caused him hurt. I feel that every day.
His death was my fault and I accept that. It makes me wonder, sometimes, if I'm ever going to be able to become a worthwhile human again because of what I did. I hate myself for what I did to him, and to you and Mama, and to Elizabeth. Most of all, I feel awful for what his death did to you. You're a different person now, you're distant, and we're not really close anymore. I don't know if I know you, and I understand that a lot of that is my fault, and I'm so sorry, Dad.
Despite that, we've lost everything. We lost Elizabeth and we lost Mama. I hate to say it, but I don't feel safe at home anymore. I don't really feel safe around you, not because I don't love you because I do, but because you've changed. I hope you understand, and I won't blame you if you don't, but I'm not going to be home for a long time, if at all.
I'm moving north with a close friend. I'm safe with him, and I know I'll continue to be where I'm going.
I don't know how well I'll be able to stay in contact with you, but I'll try to send you updates on how I'm doing. I don't want you to worry. I know that's a lot to ask, but please understand this: I'm safe, and I still love you. I'm sorry what this has all come to, Dad. I hope we can fix things in the future.
Love, Mike
William's hands clutched the paper almost to the point of ruining it. Tears fell onto its surface, blurring some of the penciled words. He could feel the significance of every line, the deep emotion written in every sentence. He could feel its sincerity and truthfulness, recognizing Michael's way of speaking, recognizing the very depths of his heart poured into this simple piece paper.
So many emotions were stirring within him. Pride, regret, pain, sadness, betrayal... and love for his eldest. He knew the boy was right. Oh, how right he was.
William let out a shaky breath, gently putting the note back onto the desk with upmost gentleness. Michael was gone. He wasn't coming back. And he didn't know where to even start looking for him. North. How vague. And in any case... if his boy didn't want to see him, he... was going to respect that wish. For now, at least. The child was probably safer away from him anyway.
In the meantime, what was he to do?
The man sighed, tapping his fingers pensively on the desk. Until he could figure things out... he needed to go back to Freddy's. There were some things that needed addressing. Loose ends, after all.
Well, there was not time to waste.
Dana jumped up from her seat at the table, hurrying to the knocking basement-exit door, opening it to find a tired-eyed Henry. "Come in," she ushered, stepping aside to let the man past her.
He stepped into the threshold of the kitchen, removing his hat as Dana closed the door behind him, motioning to the living room. Henry walked close behind her, taking a seat in an armchair as she moved to the TV, pressing play, and dialing up the volume. "Sorry," she muttered, backing up to sit on the couch. "The screen's a little scratched up."
"That's alright."
Dana exhaled as the VCR began its recording. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as images began playing on screen. The video displayed was a sped-up tape in the back room of the new-recently closed-Freddy's Fazbear's Pizza. The two watched in silence as the camera moved back and forth, occasionally lighting up the room (evidence of a nightguard using the flashlight), showing the discarded animatronics from the old location.
"Why is she showing us this?" The woman asked in a soft undertone, not taking her eyes from the TV. Henry gave no answer.
The rest of the tape was like that. Just the back room. Nothing else. Dana popped in the next cassette, confused to see yet another recording of only the service closet. The speeding time ticked quickly from midnight, to one, to two-o-clock, and it was then that they noticed minor movements in the robots. One, Foxy, even left the room.
Then, the third and the last of the cassettes was placed into the VCR. This time, all moved. Dana watched closely, trying to understand what Charlie wanted her to see. One by one, each stood and left the room, their movements extremely mechanical as they made their way out to presumably roam the dark hallways. The woman noted that every robot waited until the next to exit and that their eyes would flash and blink in white light before they stood from their places on the tiled floor. She thought the light odd, having never seen it before, but figured it had something to do with their anti-lock mechanics.
As the tape came to a close with no animatronics back in the closet, Henry exhaled audibly in the armchair next to her. "Was that it?" He asked, elbows on his knees as he stayed leaned in to the TV. Dana nodded.
The man sighed lightly, bringing his interlocked fingers to his chin in thought. Both sat in silence for a moment before the woman interjected with another comment.
"She said that 'the other pieces were at the old Freddy's' or something too, though," she added quietly. Henry looked her way, gears turning in his head. "Well, that's where we'll have to go, then," he nodded.
"Right now?"
"If you're up to it. We can take my car."
Dana nodded, standing as she turned off the television. Henry waited patiently by the door, placing his hat on his head as the woman hurried out behind him, making careful surety to lock the basement entry.
Dana followed the man to his car parked on the other side of the street, rounding to the passenger seat. She climbed inside, minding the briefcase on the car floor while Henry entered on the other side, starting the vehicle.
They turned out of the neighborhood onto the main roads, the sun now almost completely gone over the horizon. Dana looked out the windshield, noting how few cars there were.
"Do you think we're supposed to watch more tapes or something?" She asked, turning to Henry.
"Presumably. I first want to check the security office."
The woman nodded, leaning back in her seat as they approached the old Freddy's location. As Henry pulled into a parking stall, she took notice of how fallen apart the building had become. The windows were boarded, but the front door (made of fragile glass) was shattered.
The two stepped out of the vehicle and approached the entrance with apprehension, minding the glass shards littered on the concrete. "Careful," Dana cautioned as Henry slipped his hand into one of the busted gaps of the door to unlock and open it from the other side. With a light click, the door cracked open, allowing them to open it completely and let themselves in.
"This is so creepy," the woman murmured, hugging her arms around her stomach as they walked down the silent, cold hallway to the security office. "I'd consider that a major understatement," Henry commented, nudging away filthy plushies on the floor as they continued down the corridor.
When they went into the office, they were greeted with one of the TV's on the desk turned on, screen lined with static. Henry and Dana exchanged apprehensive glances as they stepped inside, pulling chairs up close to the television. The man extended a finger and pressed "play," causing the screen to flicker momentarily as the sound of a cassette winding resounded.
There was only blackness on the TV for a moment until a blurry image of the restaurant's old animatronics was displayed. The old attractions, a bright green frog and pink pig were performing. It played for nearly a minute, suddenly cutting out. Then, an empty stage. Flicker. Three robots, a blue rabbit, bear, and a bright chicken. Pirate Cove, Foxy running through his routine.
Dana looked at Henry, who returned the gesture. They both were immensely confused but were beginning to fill with unwarranted dread as the tape continued.
The music they were performing to suddenly cut out, replaced with only the sound of light static as evening security footage played. A date displayed in the bottom corner matched the one of the disappearances.
Dana and Henry were leaning forward in their seats, both completely absorbed in the footage.
They watched as a puppet-Charlie-appeared in front of the stage. The camera quality was noticeably brighter, and had it been to its normal setting, she would not have been visible in the darkness.
Charlie's hands brightened as she raised them in front of her. Each animatronic, including the one in Pirate's Cove began to shudder violently, their eyes lighting up with the same brilliance Charlie held. Within seconds, she vanished, but each robot suddenly froze before each slowly tilted its head to the camera.
The tape cut one more time to the back room of the new Freddy Fazbear's location. This time, both viewers were aware of the animatronics lying dormant, each with a white flare in one or both eyes. Then, the TV cut out completely.
Dana didn't realize her mouth was hanging agape until the tape finished. She looked over at Henry who was gripping the arm of his chair tightly, face paled and pulled into a tight expression.
"Henry, what was that? Are you alright?"
"They never found the bodies."
The woman cocked her head in confusion. "What?" She questioned, stomach beginning to swirl with anxiety.
"Four children. Four animatronics. No bodies were recovered," the man whispered, jaw extremely tense, voice almost choked.
Dana's being suddenly filled with realization and a hand flew to her mouth as bile rose in her throat. She felt so horrendously sick, absolutely disgusted at being in the building they now stood in.
"Oh, Henry-t-the smells-we left because- "
"The odors." The man finished, looking rather sick himself as his hands trembled on the arms of his seat.
The woman took deep breaths, trying to clear her head and hopefully keep the urge to vomit at bay where it was struggling to stay. The two sat in silence, each trying to keep their reactions and emotions in control while the shock of this horrible realization played over and over again in their minds.
A thought suddenly occurred to Dana.
"Henry, if Charlie is haunting that robot you made her, then isn't it likely that those children…are also haunting the old animatronics?" She questioned in a light whisper. The man froze, eyes widening, but he wouldn't look at her. "I mean, that light we saw-here and on the other tapes-that's totally not programmed, right? That's paranormal…and if Charlie is out for revenge, then wouldn't it make sense if she's trying to help the others get that too?"
Henry leaned forward, holding his head in his hands with his elbows perched on his knees as he let out a long, shuddering sigh.
"Yes, that is very much my daughter. She would…" he murmured with a twist of a choke in his voice.
The man sat up, a newfound determination filling his eyes. "Get in the car," he said firmly, standing. The woman stood as well, confused. "We're going to the other location. Hurry and get the car going, I'm going to take the footage tape. And the briefcase on the passenger seat-it has a handgun. Make sure we bring it in with us," he continued, seeming to sense her bafflement as he handed her the keys. She nodded, taking them, turning on her heel as she ran out of the building.
Dana ran out to the car, leaning inside to put the keys in the ignition, twisting them as the car shuddered to a start. She rounded back to the passenger seat and climbed in, clicking her seatbelt in as she reached for the case at her feet. She set it on her lap, about to open it before a knock came at her window.
The woman let out a sound of surprise, jumping as she whipped her head over. A tall figure was leaned over, head facing her direction, hand still poised over the glass. He waved lightly, gesturing for her to roll the window down. Dana hesitated for a moment, then remembering the gun in her possession and reached to comply with the stranger's request.
As the glass went out of view as she breathed a sigh of relief. It was just Dave.
"Oh, hello Dave," she said with an airless chuckle, still slightly surprised from the sudden visit. The man waved again; mouth turned into a small smile. "Hello, Dana. Didn't expect to see you here," he replied in a low voice.
"Yeah, well um…" she started, not sure what to tell him. "My friend Henry and I needed to pick up some security tapes since not all of them were moved to the new location," she answered with a forced smile, completely hating how BS that sounded. If this man had any level of intelligence, he'd be able to see how that wasn't necessary as the new restaurant was closed anyway.
But, yet again, relief washed over her as the man seemed to accept her excuse. Although, a slight feeling of apprehension twisted in her when she had mentioned Henry. At the note of his name, Dave's eyebrows had lifted slightly, eyes almost flashing with a strange light before darkening. He nodded, eyes flashing to the building until Dana cleared her throat.
"What about you?" She questioned awkwardly. The man looked back at her with an eyebrow raised. "Hmm?" He asked.
"What are you doing here?"
"Oh…" he began, glancing back at his car which Dana noticed was parked a few stalls from theirs. "With the closure of the new location, I realized I had left some of my belongings at this office. Figured I'd come retrieve them before some punks raided the place," he answered, hand on the roof of the car. "I'll go get them now," he trailed off, pushing away from the vehicle.
Dana nodded, not really paying attention as the man went inside. She waited until he was out of sight before popping open the briefcase. Sure enough, a sleek gun lay atop a series of papers and documents inside. She swallowed, slightly intimidated as she made to close the case, stopping at sight of some of the sheets of paper beneath it.
Carefully sliding the folder out from the under the pistol, she opened it to see some of Henry's notes on the missing children's case. Pictures of every child and testimonies of what they had been doing before their disappearances were written neatly next to them.
Dana turned the page, met with more documentations of what employees recounted, once finding her own name and testimony. She turned another page and found detailed notes of everything she had found on the case. Her mouth turned upwards into a half-smile, appreciating how much Henry seemed to value her efforts and findings.
When she got to the last document, she was met with a series of notes on…Afton. Her eyes narrowed as she read the paper, reading about his betrayal and some fresher writing about his restaurant. At the bottom was a picture, presumably of the man himself.
As her eyes met the photo, her heart stopped, mind in absolute shock.
Why was Dave's picture listed as William Afton's?
She jumped as the sound of the driver door opening alerted her from her discovery. Not looking over, she opened her mouth, finger touching the paper. "Henry, this picture, the one on Afton, it's-" she started shakily, cutting herself off as she finally looked the man's direction.
But the man in the driver's seat wasn't Henry, but Afton himself. Dave. William.
Dana's eyes widened, heart-beat quickening in absolute fear and adrenaline. She reached for the door, about to click out of her seatbelt and go running out of the car, but as she did, Afton retrieved the pistol which she had set near the glovebox, pointing it her direction.
"Ah, ah, ah…" he said softly in a low undertone, eyes glinting maliciously. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
"W-Where's Henry?" Dana demanded, trying to keep the fear from her voice, but failing terribly.
"Oh, there's no need to worry about that friend of yours. He's just out cold…besides, I think it's time for the two of us to go back to Freddy's, hmm?" The man answered, pulling the stick-shift into reverse.
Dana felt her face drain of color, limbs and hands trembling as the car turned without her willingness out of the parking lot and onto the main road, pointed in the direction of the new location.
She craned her neck back to the building they were leaving behind, absolute dread and terror consuming her. Henry was still there, she knew what this man next to her was capable of, and he was armed.
She was most definitely, absolutely, screwed.
Funny thing, I hadn't actually had Michael's note written in my initial draft but as I began adding details, it just sorta showed up and was like write me
I swear, this book has a mind of it's own lol. ANYWAY, I had hoped to finish this first FNAF book (yes, there will be a sequel) before February's end, but it's more than obvious that that won't be happening. Eh. Oh, well. Thanks for reading guys