Chapter 4: Current Objective: Survive

The streets were still wet from the rain earlier that night. Instinctively, Foxy walked carefully, trying not to get any of the dirty puddles in his fur… until he remembered the state of his legs. He couldn't get mud in his fur if there wasn't any fur, plating, or just about anything other than his endoskeleton.

His metal feet clanked gently against the damp concrete as he slipped into the shadows.

This was Foxy's first time ever truly being outside. Before this point he had only known it through the windows of the pizzeria, things overheard from the humans, and stories told to him by Marionette. It was… fresh. It somehow felt more real to him than anything he experienced before. He couldn't sense things quite the same as a human did, but he experienced things similar enough, in his own electronic way.

Sneaking between the buildings, Foxy saw a foreign amount of greenery. This whole area seemed to be not far from the thick woods, just visible beyond the wire fences. He leaned over to feel the grass that grew between the cracks of the concrete, touching it for the first time in his life and letting the individual blades run across the spots on his arms where he still had feeling. Though his feet were too damaged to really feel anything of the puddles beneath him, he still got a sense for the water on him.

As he navigated his way through the back alleys, Foxy's mind wandered. There wasn't much thinking to be done considering that in all honesty he had no real idea where he was going. All he knew was that he wanted as much distance between him and that godforsaken pizzeria as he could get.

He wondered about Marionette. His only remaining friend hadn't been around for the past few nights. His appearances were always spotty and unpredictable, but he always stayed around for a few days in a row before vanishing again. So for him to show up one day, and not the next… Well, it wasn't normal for him.

He hoped he'd see him again, but whatever that old puppet was up to, it didn't really matter for Foxy anymore. He was out in the world now. His priority? Well he didn't really know what exactly he wanted to do first. He was so focused on just escaping, that he never even thought about what came next.

Foxy's train of thought was suddenly derailed by a voice.

"Lookie here, another runaway..."

Foxy skidded to a stop, looking around for the source of the voice. All he could see was the graffiti-covered brick walls of the buildings he was between.

"With legs like those I'm surprised he even got out of the hole, let alone this far." said another, deeper voice.

Foxy couldn't figure out where they were coming from, the voices were so close yet somehow he couldn't find them.

"The ringleader won't be pleased to hear you tried to run away from home, little fox," the first voice teased.

"Show yerselves already!" Foxy yelled out, furiously turning around, still trying to find the sources of the voices.

Suddenly, Foxy felt a presence behind him. Before he could turn around, a large arm came around his head, locking him into a chokehold.

"Quiet now runaway, we wouldn't want the humans to hear us would we?" said the deeper voice. "You should know what happens to runaways by now."

The larger figure kicked the back of Foxy's legs and knocked his footing out completely, holding him up off the ground by his chokehold.

Foxy struggled up in the air, but he couldn't do a thing about it. The large figure behind him grabbed his hands, holding them in place, and with the state Foxy's legs were in, and at this angle, he couldn't land anywhere near a good enough kick to free himself. Though, that certainly didn't stop him from trying. Foxy, in all his squirming, kept bashing his feet against the man behind him to no avail. The figure didn't seem to react in the slightest as he held Foxy up, waiting for whoever was with him to do something.

Foxy saw a figure in front of him come out from the shadows, another animatronic. A dark-furred feline, only a few inches shorter than Foxy was. In the cat's hand was a strange looking device, built from scrap. Whatever it was, it looked like it barely worked if it even worked at all.

"Why don't you just hold still and make this easier for the both of us huh?" the cat threatened. His voice was clearly the first one that spoke out earlier.

The cat moved, closing in on Foxy. Panicking now, Foxy lifted his right leg up and launched it forward with as much strength as he could muster, kicking the cat right in their upper chest. The cat was knocked back to the ground, sprawling and wheezing.

"He's certainly a feisty one," the large figure commented, "quite the kick for legs in that condition…"

Struggling to breathe, or whatever their robotic equivalent was, the cat scowled at his partner.

"Will… you shut up… and restrain the fucker already?" The cat said, struggling to speak while barely managing to get back onto his feet.

The figure holding Foxy in the air suddenly slammed him into the ground, pressing all his weight on Foxy's head and limbs. He was completely pinned, but he could see the other figure now. They were a large bull, fur just as dark as their accomplice. Fitting considering their voice.

The cat drew closer, holding a dingy looking device up in his hand and out towards Foxy. Unable to move at all, Foxy had no other choice than to lay there and let whatever was about to happen to him, happen.

"We coulda taken you in nice and easy y'know, you did this to yourself, runaway," the cat taunted, visibly pissed off from getting the wind kicked out of him… or whatever it was for robots.

Before Foxy even had a chance to respond, he felt the device stick to the back of his head, and shock him. For an instant, his body was overrun by a surge of electrical charges, stinging him all over. He felt like his entire body was being burnt up instantaneously. By the time his mind had begun processing the pain…

He fainted.

'Still better than the pizzeria.'

There was tension in the air at the pizzeria. For Mangle, it was a painful anticipation of what was about to happen. For the others? It was more akin to barely contained excitement, about to burst at any moment. Foxy was being scrapped today, and the van had just arrived.

The manager was busy talking to the men who arrived in the van, and the Faz gang was enjoying themselves in the main dining room of the pizzeria.

"So? Whaddya think he'll sell for?" Fred asked Goldie, nudging him with his elbow.

"Couldn't be anymore than a hundred bucks, that pathetic pile of scrap isn't worth anything if you ask me."

Fred scoffed, "I feel like even a hundred is generous."

The two continued talking to themselves while Bonbon, Chic, and Mangle all sat at one of the tables. Chic was fiddling with her body, making sure the hardened plastic was so clean that she could see her reflection in the plating. Bon was, as usual, barely even paying attention. His eyes were locked on the truck outside, though he seemed to be staring into space more than actually examining it.

As for Mangle, she'd be sweating buckets if she could. The mental stress building up inside her had been slowly rising, until it began to boil over into her leg bouncing up and down under the table. The entire time she watched the two men in the van from the window, she couldn't help but think about what was going to happen when they came to the inevitable conclusion about Foxy.

That being, he'd already left.

As if on queue, the manager began walking to the back rooms with a worker who was rolling in a hand truck, and another worker who was carrying a clipboard with some documents he had just made the manager sign. Mangle would be biting her nails if she could. If it wasn't for how oblivious everyone was, they'd probably be suspicious of her. Or maybe that was just what she thought. She couldn't think clearly like this. What if they suspected her of letting him go? She technically didn't stop him anyways! What would they do to her? Would the manager scrap her instead? Would they start treating her like they did him-

"Hey, Boss! Over here!"

Mangle froze up. The man who was supposed to wheel Foxy away poked his head out of the door to the back room. Oh god they found out. He's gonna check the security footage or something and she's gonna be pinned for-

"He's not here. You sure you left him back here?"

The manager looked on in confusion.

"I- what? What do you mean he's not there? That's where he's always been since he started breaking down!"

"Well, I don't see shit." the worker retorted.

The other man looked at the manager with a now very annoyed expression. Mangle hid her face as if that glare was directed at her specifically.

"Sir, you said you had a functional animatronic that you wished to scrap. Do you, or do you not have it?"

"I- I-" the manager stuttered, sweat building up on his forehead. "I could've sworn he was here."

The two workers groaned in unison.

"What a waste of my time," the one with the papers muttered under his breath.

The manager panicked, grabbing him by the shoulder, "W-Wait! What about the other ones back there? Surely you could scrap those or something, right?"

"Sir, we were here to scrap a functional animatronic. Not some broken piles of metal. Smelt 'em, sell 'em, send 'em to the junkyard for all I care. Just stop wasting our time."

The manager watched with his jaw agape as the two workers left the building as quickly as they came. Mangle finally looked around her, expecting to see everyone glaring at her. Instead, all of them were the same as the manager. All watching the workers leave with expressions of surprise. Even Bonbon, who she wasn't even sure was paying attention.

The door slammed shut, the ironic jingle from the doorbell was the only sound in the whole restaurant for a long, long minute.

Fred finally broke the silence.

"He… left?"

The first thing Foxy felt when he woke up was dirt. Or sand. It was somewhere in between that. His metal fingertips dug into it as he groaned, lifting his head off the ground. He opened his eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the light, or rather the minimal amount of light offered. In front of him there was a cramped door that didn't quite fit it's misaligned frame, light poured in through the cracks and gave Foxy just enough to see around him. There were other doors adjacent to his, just as misaligned, blocked off by metal grating.

Foxy stood, his eyes fully adjusted to the dim light now. There were… other animatronics in those little compartments. The more he examined his surroundings, the more it looked like they were in a ring of cells, all opening into some circular area.

"Hey, you," came a voice from the cell next to him.

Foxy jerked in surprise, turning to face the direction of the voice.

"You're finally awake."

Foxy looked over the person who was speaking to him. They were a jet black vixen, her eyes almost blended her into the darkness surrounding them. The only clear indicators of her presence were her reflective eyes and the white fur at the very end of her tail, gently swishing behind her.

That, and the occasional spark shooting out from her torn off shoulder.

"...Yeah, yeah I am," Foxy hesitantly confirmed, "Who are you?"

"You first," she said bluntly.

"Name's Foxy," he answered.

"How creative."

"Well, I didn't come up with it meself."

She raised an eyebrow, "you talk weird."

"I'm supposed to be a pirate lass, it could be worse. Now, your turn."

She sighed, "fair enough, I'm Lana." Her shoulder moved as if she was moving her non-existent arm to shake hands, before remembering she didn't have one. She grimaced at that reminder.

"I'd shake your hand, but my only arm is limp."

Foxy looked over her body. Aside from her missing arm, her other arm was dangling at her side, clearly broken. She seemed to be balancing against the wall, only one of her legs was working, the other broken off at the knee.

"What happened to you?" Foxy asked her, his voice growing more concerned now.

"Long story short, I got caught doing something stupid. I didn't make it easy for them to take me in, so they took it upon themselves to make it easy."

"...What the hell is this place, what are you talking about?"

Lana's brows furrowed at that comment.

"What… What do you mean? How do you not know about the ring? You got arrested, didn't you?" She nodded at his body, "Given that state you're in I figure they gave you a pretty good beating too."

Foxy just stared at her in confusion, her own expression growing worried as he didn't respond.

"You… got arrested, right?"

"N-no… no I don't think" -Foxy's eyes widened as he began putting the pieces together- "Wait, they called me a 'runaway' I think."

Lana stared at him in a mix of shock and pity. He was like a chick thrown from its nest.

"Oh… well, you're in for quite the introduction," Lana said, her voice sounding like a hollow attempt at a joyous tone.

"What makes you say that?"

Lana sighed again, "I guess I got time to explain this. You're about to have to fight everyone in all these cells."

Foxy was silent, processing that for a moment.

"I'm gonna what?"

"Fight. You're gonna fight. As far as anyone here is concerned, you're a runaway. That's a crime. And like any crime, mine included, you have to be redeemed before they let you back into the city. Around here, that's done through trial by mass combat."

Foxy's head felt like it was spinning. He was only just putting together that this had to be the place Marionette was talking about, and now he was suddenly getting all this information dumped on him.

"What's… What's gonna happen?" he asked.

"Those doors are gonna open, and all 50 of us are gonna be let into the ring at once. The fighting don't stop until half of us are dead. If you don't kill anybody, they'll kill you too."

"And everyone's a criminal?"

"No, most are just trying to survive. The others are fighters, and this is how they get to enter into the tournament."

So, he and this one-legged vixen were about to be tossed into a bloodbath, where killing was the only path to redemption. Foxy stared at the floor, overwhelmed by what he was processing. Not even minutes after waking up in a place he didn't know, and now his life was under threat.

"I'm sorry, Foxy. I wish there was some way out of this, but there really isn't."

"...What the fuck kind of justice system is this."

Lana simply smirked before replying.

"Welcome to the Hellmouth."

Foxy tried to process this, but everything seemed to be working against him that day. Just as she spoke, a line of lights lit up along the top of his cell door. As did Lana's, and every door Foxy could see. Everybody seemed to be steeling themselves for what was to come, some even banging their fists against their door in an attempt to intimidate the others.

"Hey, you've got working arms, I'm sure you'll be fine," Lana said in her best to comfort the newbie. Offering the notion that at the very least he'd have a better shot at surviving than she did in a half-hearted joke.

One of the lights turned off, accompanied by a pathetic, yet loud, flat beep coming from everyone's door. The tones all came together to make a painful harmony of what seemed to be a countdown.

Foxy looked around, panicking.

Another light off. His pulse quickened.

He turned to look at Lana, who was barely even holding herself up on her one leg. Even she seemed to know that they were as good as dead.

One light left.

She looked back at him. Her eyes had a pained, knowing look in them.

They were both doomed.

The final light vanished with a longer, louder tone sounding out, all out of one grimy, ear-splitting harmony. The doors all suddenly raised, light pouring into their cells as voices rang out. Everyone ran into the ring, war cries and screams of terror filling the air all at once.

Against his better judgement, Foxy emerged from his cell like a turtle's head does its protective home, before turning to see Lana's miserable attempt to do the same. The poor girl could barely hobble her way out of the metal box that trapped her, having to limp on her one good remaining limb.

The vulpine was ripped from his thoughts as he spotted a figure barrelling toward them both, one arm outstretched with a long blade ready to take both their heads in one fell swoop. The angered yell of the approaching figure continued to grow louder, pushing Foxy closer to his mental limit before he finally made a split-second decision.

He grabbed Lana, lifted her onto his shoulder, and bolted.

As he crossed the arena with an adrenaline-fueled stride, his eyes darted from person to person, narrowly dodging blades, fists, even the occasional animatronic that would try and chase him. Try as they might, but he was still the fastest wherever he went.

The fox continued running with Lana on his shoulder, spotting a fallen sheet of scrap metal. Not seeing any other feasible places to plan his next move, he made for the rudimentary cover. Foxy bolted towards it, avoiding the cramped groups of people fighting to the death all around them before diving behind the metal sheet.

It was a small, crude little spot between the walls of the circular arena and the fallen metal sheet he had spotted. But no one was spotting them, and at this moment that was all he could ask for. Foxy put Lana down, sliding her onto the dirt carefully.

She coughed.

"Thanks… I guess."

"What are we gonna do now?"

"We? It's everyone for themselves Foxy-"

"I can't just leave you out there like that!"

Lana was silent for a moment. Foxy looked into her eyes, he could see a lot going on behind those eyes.

"Foxy, I'm not going to live through this."

"Yes you will! We just have to outlast the fighting-"

"No Foxy, we have to kill if we're allowed out, remember what I said?"

"What?"

"If you don't kill anyone, they'll just kill you anyway. You have to kill someone to get out of here."

Another moment of quiet passed between them, Foxy trying desperately to figure out some way to get out of this, and Lana coming to a realization that she knew neither of them would like.

Lana nudged Foxy with her stump leg. "Foxy?"

He was visibly lost in thought, snapping to attention after the third time she nudged him with her leg.

"Y-yeah?"

"Kill me."

"Wha- No!"

"You have to do it, you're gonna die yourself if you don't!"

"N-No!"

"Either both of us die, or I die! Either way, I'm not making it out of this ring, so for fucks sake, kill m-"

"NO!"

Foxy stopped her by planting his hand tightly on her shoulder, silencing her with a painful, icy look in his eyes.

"I can't kill you! I've already killed enough."

"Then do it to save yourself, asshole!"

Lana's remark stung him like a blazing iron melting off the last of his fur. His moral compass was spinning so fast he could barely keep up. He knew she was right. He knew it, and he hated it.

"...How," Foxy simply asked. His voice sounded defeated, not even remotely as cold as his eyes.

"Take that busted hook of yours, and send it through the back of my head."

"Wha-"

"My CPU is there. I'll die quickly," she quickly explained, "painlessly too, I hope."

Foxy looked at his own hook. The sharp point of it was gone, instead now the flat dull end of a warped, vaguely hook-shaped blade.

"I… I don't know if I can do that."

"Then we'll be finding out together."

Foxy looked at her head, doing his best to avoid her gaze. He didn't want to look her in the eyes, not now. Not if he had to kill her. It hurt enough to even be considering the idea, if he had to watch her die it would be too much. Lana seemed to know what he was feeling, giving him her words of support.

"It's okay... If not for you, then do it for me."

As if against his will, he moved his hook, bringing it up to her head. He couldn't keep his arm steady, the blade shaking around as it neared her.

"Thank you…"

His hand moved on its own. There was no turning back now.

His wrist swung back before plunging in, he could feel the scream of metal scraping metal in his ears as, with all the force he could muster, he shanked his hook into her head. He could feel the wires against his blade, disturbingly organic, like they were crawling around his hook as he cut through them and into the fragile parts deeper inside. He wanted to cry. Despite how conscious he was of this exact moment, he could swear he felt the girl's head in his jaw again. It felt like such a long, drawn out moment, but in reality not even a few seconds passed.

He could feel the hook faintly struggle against something before a crack vibrated against his hook.

The light in Lana's eyes was gone in an instant. Her entire body became relaxed, limp in Foxy's arms.

Foxy lowered his head as he held her lifeless body. It felt like millions of judgemental eyes were staring him down as silent, painful sobs washed over him, like he was choking on his own throat. The realization that had just begun to set in. Her last words were"Thank you."

He hadn't heard those words in a long, long time.