Saturday, November 13, 1993
Jeremy.
Upon hearing the name, Spring Bonnie lowered his hands, once more allowing the internal camera to take in new information. He looked up, to see the smiling white face in front of him, just as he had six years ago. White pinpricks shone from within the dark sockets, creating a soft shine on the Puppet's red cheek circles.
I know what you are feeling right now, it said. It hurts, being awoken like this. Seeing your reflection, and realizing what you are. Knowing what you used to be. Caught in your last moments.
It gently knelt down in front of the golden rabbit.
I was the first,
it continued. I was given life, and I gave it to the others.
To save them.
To save you.
It was the only way.
The right ear drooped forward, and Spring Bonnie found the large, plush hands reaching up to cover the internal cameras again. He heard the Puppet shift around.
I made a promise to you six years ago to this day. And I will keep that promise. Do you understand?
While the plush hands still covered his eyes, Spring Bonnie's golden head gave a slow nod.
You have a freedom the others do not,
the Puppet explained. They are bound by the rules of time. We will need your help.
And his.
And hers.
He heard it slipping away on the microphones, though the Puppet's monotone voice was as clear as if it still remained at his side.
The smiling man has come back, it said, quietly. He will return once more to try to bury what he has done.
A somber moment of pause.
We will never have another chance.
The box stood before her, its distinctive blue-green wrappings taking in some of the dining room light, the purple ribbon circling the box in violet perfection. All around her, yellow masks with empty eyes stared from the shelves, some with short, round teddy bear ears, and others with the distinct bisected ears of the rabbits. Vanna clutched Dulcie to her chest, keeping her flashlight on the box.
Was this here back then? she wondered.
A new attraction not yet in use. A new character waiting to debut, but locked away until the rebrand.
Vanna heard her little sister crying again.
It's dark, Vesper sobbed. I can't get out. Th-the lid won't open!
Vanna quickly set Dulcie down on the table. She then leaned her flashlight against the cupcake, and used its switch to further prop it up and provide some light.
"I'm coming, Vesper," Vanna said as she turned back to the box. "I'm almost there."
I w-want to go h-h-home!
"And I'll bring you home," she promised.
Vanna took a breath, and stepped toward the giant present.
For a second, the room flashed, once more in shadow, only with the present box looking a bit bigger than before, the top of the box just under her eye level. The vision disappeared after a second, and she picked up her pace, reaching the normal-sized box in two quick strides.
Vanna carefully reached for it. The box radiated with warmth, a small pulse under her touch.
Like a heartbeat.
Her purple sleeves disappeared before her, leaving only her bare arms and hands on the lid.
Smaller, younger hands that recently shed the last of their baby fat.
Vanna blinked, and she saw her purple sweater still covering her arms again, her long, thin adult fingers resting over the blue-green lid, her dark nails barely scratching against the top.
Choosing to ignore whatever tricks her mind just played, she sucked in a breath, then found the seam where the top split open. She followed it to the edge and slid her fingers under the lid. Once in position, Vanna tried to lift the flaps open.
They wouldn't budge.
There's something heavy on top.
"Vesper," Vanna said, "there's nothing here."
It won't open. It opened before I fell asleep. It opened when I peeked outside.
Vanna tried again, desperate to get her sister out. The box remained shut. In the back of her mind, she heard Vesper start to cry again.
I can feel something's up there. It moved a little.
The box suddenly disappeared from under her hands, leaving only a dark, empty void where it once stood. Vanna stumbled forward from the abrupt loss of solidity under her fingers. She tried to stand upright, only for her head to bump against something hard. The entire room around her disappeared, leaving behind inky blackness. She no longer saw the flashlight, Dulcie, or the shelves with their staring heads.
Only darkness, and the feeling that she wasn't alone.
"Vesper?"
Vanna tried to step back, only to feel a wall behind her. Trying any other direction brought similar results. Some sort of angled wood in front of her blocked some of the space, further limiting her movements. Running her hands over it told her it was two planks crossed together, and that alone told her her mystery location. She was unable to stand upright thanks to that and the suddenly low ceiling. The little room felt warm and stale, and smelled of cloth and resin. It reminded her for a moment of waking up with her face smothered in blankets and the quick panic that followed before freeing herself to the cool and open air...only the cool air never came, and each breath warmed the tiny space a little more.
Vanna again tried to stand, pressing her hands as hard as she could against the ceiling. She heard something above her shift, creaking only a little before it settled. Vanna tried different points in the ceiling to try to make it move again. But whatever it was wouldn't budge.
It won't move anymore, Vesper sobbed.
Vanna pushed again. The air grew hotter with every breath, making her dizzy. Her arms and legs ached from force and exertion.
No one can hear me, Vesper continued, even though I'm screaming.
"I hear you," Vanna whispered.
But only a frightened voice, and no screams.
Her throat ached suddenly, raw and dry.
As if she'd been screaming herself.
Why can't they hear me? Vesper sobbed. Why won't anyone come?
Vanna's chest panged as she gasped for air. The sudden pain forced her to take a quick reprieve. She positioned herself against one wall and sat down to listen and collect her thoughts. Oddly enough, there was just enough space to comfortably do so, thanks to a gap in the bottom of the crossed planks where she could slide her feet.
"I hear you," she said again, practically choking out the words, "and I'm here."
Please find me, Vanna. I'm scared. I want to get out of here. I want to go home!
"I'm here, Vesper."
...She can't hear me. No one can hear me. I'm trapped.
"Vesper..."
I can't scream anymore. I can't breathe.
Vanna felt her stomach sink as a horrible thought slowly crept into her mind.
"...Can you hear me?" she whispered.
My chest hurts, Vesper said, not acknowledging the question. I need my air medicine.
Something shifted at her feet. Vanna quickly withdrew her legs and curled them up against her chest.
I'm not alone, came Vesper's voice. There's something in here with me.
"Puppet," Vanna said quietly, the word barely audible to her own ears.
If it heard her, it didn't move or answer. In her mind, her sister continued to cry.
I don't want to be here anymore. I want my mommy. I want my sister. I want to go home!
Two soft pinpricks glowed in the dark. Vanna barely picked out the tops of its cheeks, the edge of its smile. The warm air made her vision hazy, and the tells of the face faded in and out as it came closer. It stopped for a moment, its face tilting up towards the ceiling. Soft scratching sounds told her it, too, was pushing, before it turned back to her.
It's trapped too, Vesper said.
Long, thin arms gently cradled Vanna.
Something's hugging me, Vesper continued. I'm still scared.
Vanna tried to pull away. Whether it was the dizziness that overcame her, the overwhelming heat, or her own fatigue from trying to get out, she simply gave in.
It's too...warm in here. I'm still coughing.
She found herself resting her head against Puppet's chest. Vanna closed her eyes as tears trickled down her cheeks.
I'm...tired, Vesper said. Her voice weakened and quieted. My chest hurts. But something's...hugging me...and it feels...nice.
Maybe I'll...be okay.
Vanna will...find me. She's...good...at hide...and...seek…
I'm...sleepy again.
I can't...breathe.
I...
Cool air suddenly filled the room. Vanna choked on another breath at the sudden change in temperature, then opened her eyes.
In front of her, an old endoskeleton sat in the corner where the Puppet's box once stood. Her flashlight beam shone upon it, highlighting its gray metal and gentle brown eyes. Beside it stood a shelf stocked with various boxes and spare costume pieces, most of them brown or purple.
Things were normal again, back in the present.
Vanna shakily pushed herself back onto her feet, half-expecting to bump her head again. But she managed to stand upright with no problems this time. She blinked a few times to verify what she saw before her.
The endoskeleton watched her with its brown eyes, its dull gray metal illuminated in the light. Black and white tile on the floor. Shelves of animatronic costume pieces and boxes for miscellaneous storage. Up in the corner above the endoskeleton, the backstage camera stared down at her. The lack of a red light showed it was currently off.
Vanna turned around, tracing the light beam to her flashlight still sitting on the edge of the table, with Dulcie smiling its goofy smile beside it. The wooden table otherwise remained empty, with no weird partially-built animatronic on it anymore. Masks of Bonnie, Chica, and Freddy stared at her from various parts of the room.
The brown Freddy and the purple Bonnie.
Not the golden counterparts from Fredbear's Family Diner.
The lights flickered, then darkened the room for a split second. Vanna quickly grabbed her flashlight, then turned back around to face the endoskeleton. Its head tilted slightly to the side. Maybe it shifted? Vanna carefully held out a hand and shakily moved it over its eyes. The endoskeleton remained still, its eyes still staring ahead. Convinced that it was off and detected no movement, Vanna carefully reached to touch its arm, her breath hitching as her finger made contact.
Metal.
Cold, unmoving metal, not the warm, pulsing resin she felt before.
She let out a breath of relief as she pulled her hand away, then took a step back. Vanna threw a quick glance over her shoulder to make certain she was still alone, before she reached to pick up Dulcie.
"What was that?" she whispered harshly, glaring into the thing's eyes.
The cupcake gave her no answer. Vanna took another quick glance around the room, completely on edge now. Something about this place brought her back in time.
And more than that, it took her to her little sister's last moments.
"Vesper?" she whispered, moving her flashlight around the room.
She half-hoped to see a pale blue dress and black pigtails, to hear the familiar clack of Mary Janes on the floor, even to smell the damn cake again.
"...Are you here?"
Before she could get an answer, a sharp shattering sound echoed from the far end of the dining room, soon followed by a loud, "Jesus fuck!" and hurried footsteps running toward the other side of the building, mingled with a series of further swears. Vanna turned around again, pulled out of her thoughts and back into reality.
Vesper forgotten for a moment, Vanna rushed over to the door to get to Mike. She skid to a stop as a long shadow approached from the dining room.
A shadow with two long ears on top of its head.
Thinking quickly, Vanna turned off the flashlight and ducked under the table as the purple Bonnie entered the backstage room. His head whirred as he looked around, his mechanical ears twitching as he listened for her. He stepped past the table, and Vanna dared to let herself think that maybe he hadn't seen her.
Until a loud skid and a sudden emergency light over her head forced her to look up. The giant purple rabbit had pushed the table back, revealing the human hiding underneath.
Bonnie towered over her, his arms outstretched as he glanced down at her. Vanna felt a scream die in her throat. For a brief second, Bonnie's eyes became green with long lashes, his plush became yellow, and his red bowtie turned purple. The smell of cake suddenly overpowered her senses, making her head feel heavy and faint.
She reached up to push him away as he leaned down further, one hand pushed up against his nose, and the other at the base of his right ear. Her fingers grazed the soft plush there. The only thought that came to mind was it didn't feel right.
No silk tangled in her fingers, only dusty old plush and a metal joint.
Like the cake still crowding her nose, she remembered silk.
Soft silk that gave her something to hold onto before the world went dark.
Her heart throbbed in her ears, blocking out any other sound. Her vision began to darken in the corner of her eyes. Did Bonnie's face return to normal? Or was that the shadows of the room, and her own fading vision?
I'm going to die, she thought.
But it wasn't due to Mike's near-miss with this same animatronic, or the knowledge of what happened to some of the other night guards.
They were remembered words that flashed through her mind a long, long time ago.
"...Bunny…"
Nothing else came to mind as she collapsed, the feel of plush sliding under her fingers until they hit hard, cold tile. Her vision continued to fade, and soon, all she saw anymore was the faint glow of Bonnie's red eyes, before even they, too, gave into the dark.
The sketches seemed to watch him as he walked down the hall. Mike glanced up to the wall of drawings, of happy families and cake and singing animatronics. For a moment, his eyes were drawn to the lone picture of Spring Bonnie, with its sunken eyes and yellow-gray scribbles.
He briefly remembered the vision he had last night, of the blue eyes behind a yellow mask.
Jeremy's eyes, looking back at him from within his final prison.
Mike stepped into the dining room. Chica stood at attention at the end of the hall, watching him carefully. He swallowed hard as he passed by her.
Nothing changed. The silver stars still glittered overhead. The party hats sat in their perfect rows. Long white cloths hung from the tables. Over on the stage, Freddy stood alone, holding his microphone under his chin. Mike carefully walked forward. He glanced over to the furthest table, the one closest to the backstage room.
Where he and Vanna saw the boys.
He was always there when I needed him, he thought. Up until the day he disappeared.
No vision took over his mind this time, only long-remembered voices that echoed around him as he walked toward the stage.
"No peeking!" came a young voice tinged with an Irish accent.
"I'm not, Jeremy!" another insisted.
"Good. I don't want to ruin the surprise."
Mike glanced over the dining room, feeling his heart sink a little. His eyes found the table at the far end, where the ghostly boys sat earlier.
No. Not ghosts.
Memories.
He took a step forward, his heart sinking more with each step. Slowly, that day came to him. As he looked around, his mind filled in the shadows of the past.
The front door opened. Two little boys, eleven and nine, walked right into the smell of pizza and sounds of beeping games. Both of them had dark hair, the elder of the two with brown, the smaller boy with black. Both had blue eyes that took in the environment around them. Both of them wore blue jeans and t-shirts, sneakers that had seen better days.
Mike blinked as flashes of that day came to him, of the numb shock as he stepped inside, the path Jeremy lead him on towards some of the better games. He heard the familiar clink of tokens as his best friend pulled a bag of them from his pocket, and for a brief moment, he felt a warm hand in his.
The excitement died. The warmth faded. Mike found himself at the end of the room, at the last table where he long ago had to take a seat from the overwhelming wave of emotion that surged over him.
"...Why did you bring me here?" he'd whispered to Jeremy, all those years ago.
"I'm sorry," the older boy told him. "I just thought…"
Jeremy took a breath, and Mike recalled the note of regret that slipped in.
"...I just wanted to make you happy."
He felt his lips tremble and forced it back. Mike's legs threatened to give out. He grabbed the chair at the end of the corner and pulled it out, taking a seat solely to not collapse. Before Jeremy brought him here on that day, he last set foot in this place about eight months prior, for his ninth birthday.
The very last time he came here with his parents.
Jeremy knew he'd loved this place and its characters. He found a stuffed Chica toy among the belongings Mike brought to the Fitzgerald home after that fatal car crash, and put the pieces together. He had been trying to do a good thing, to surprise him with something he loved, and to make a hurt and lonely little boy smile.
And Mike did, for a short time.
He took a moment to recompose before he forced himself to stand again, carefully pushing the chair back into place. That visit with Jeremy helped him deal with the loss, to create new memories with someone he loved, to let go, move on, and heal. And knowing now what happened to Jeremy, the wound opened once more, raw and gaping.
Mike stared at the party hats, again in a perfect row thanks to the purple Bonnie. A soft whirring caught his attention, and he looked across the room to where Chica still stood by the entrance to the west hall, the present box beside her almost reaching her waist. She tilted her head, still watching him. In her left hand, Dulcie watched with her.
"...How long have you known?" Mike whispered, remembering her friendship song. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
Puppet said to wait, Chica answered. Some answers have to come to you.
Puppet told him something similar last night.
"That it's...better for him to see me?" Mike asked.
Yes, Chica answered. It will be easier for you both to accept the truth.
Mike started to say something else when the loud rapture of glass suddenly filled the room, making him jump.
"Jesus fuck!" he cried.
Another loud shatter rung in the air. His flashlight beam found the hallway by the bathrooms. It quickly dawned on Mike what could be breaking.
The mirrors.
One of them was smashing the mirrors.
His job momentarily flashing before his eyes, Mike sprinted in that direction.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"
More glass shattered as he ran, the sounds increasing in rapid succession. Just as Mike rounded the partition, it stopped. Metal footsteps stumbled over the floor, echoing out of the boys' bathroom. A loud, clattering THUD followed it, then the sound of something big settling against the wall.
...Can't get out, a voice sobbed.
A voice with a faint, but distinct Irish accent.
I c-can't...move, I-I-I can't breathe...tr-trapped in here; I have to...no way o-out...
Mike felt his heart sink. He'd always wished to hear that voice one more time, but never like this.
He stopped at the door, hesitant to go inside. He knew what he'd find: glass shards and cracks in the wall, an old animatronic...and his best friend, once upon a time.
...This isn't my...oh god...wh-what has been done...done to me? W-why can't I-I-I…? Can't leave, c-can't...
Mike stayed back for a moment. That thing was strong enough to break thick mirror glass. But the voice he heard, the words it spoke...
Jeremy had been kind and gentle, always with a composed, quiet smile and a soft-spoken tone. The broken, fearful words combined with the sounds of damage spoke of an uncharacteristic lack of control from him.
The sort of control he lost whenever he found himself in a fit of terror.
Mike's hand hovered over his pocket, where the watch warmed against his leg. The spring suits doubled as costumes. Tight spaces to be worn, with a mask that made it difficult for anyone to breathe, let alone a claustrophobic.
This isn't my face. I can't... I c-can't move. Can't breathe. Oh, god, I can't...m-my face…
The words trailed off into bitter sobs. Mike's chest panged again. He needed to go inside, to face the monster his friend had become.
To try to calm him down.
Mike took a breath and reached up to wipe his eyes on his sleeve, trying to force back any other emotion that threatened to break through. He needed to be the strong one this time, to find a way to soften a wound that would never truly heal.
He took another moment to strategize. It was one thing for normal human Jeremy to flip out. It was another thing entirely when he inhabited a big metal body that judging from the prior crashing sounds, he might not have complete control over. He would stay back, try to talk him down, and be ready to make a break for it if needed.
With as good as a plan as he could get, Mike reached for the door, then carefully pushed it open. It creaked as he urged it forward, his flashlight drawn before him. He closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to prepare himself for what lurked around the corner.
An old yellow rabbit with a torn smile and a broken ear.
But more importantly, a friend, a brother, whom he loved and lost, and found again.
The door tapped against the wall as Mike stepped inside. More checkered tile greeted him, leading him into the room. He stepped forward, keeping close to the small partition that hid away the sinks and stalls. Mike stepped around it, and the first thing to catch his gaze was part of a cracked wall with glass shards barely clinging onto it. More shimmering shards winked from the floor and sink basins as he ran the flashlight over them. To the right, he heard something slide along.
Mike turned the flashlight toward the stalls and urinals. Before him sat a dingy, broken figure. It took a moment to take in what he was seeing.
Spring Bonnie sat against the edge of a stall, the door hanging open behind him. His knees were pulled into his chest, and his large, yellow hands covered his face. The robot trembled and clattered, much like a cornered human. Bitter sobs still rung in his mind, Jeremy's voice a strange juxtaposition to the body he currently inhabited.
Mike stepped back a little, keeping his eyes and the flashlight on the tortured being before him.
"...Jeremy?" he whispered.
The rabbit's good ear straightened. Slowly, the plush hands lowered from his face, his head tilting up. The old eyelids stalled in an attempted blink.
And white pupils glowed from behind the silver discs.
"Jeremy," Mike said again. "...It's me."