Sunday, November 14, 1993
A soft glow suddenly lit up the room. After the pitch blackness, even that little glimmer assaulted his eyes. Will held up a hand and looked over at the light. He watched as a little figure began to form: a gray, almost alien being at first, struggling to retain a stable form. Over the course of several minutes, other details began to emerge: a pale blue party dress, long black pigtails, olive-gold skin that lost its lifely hue. The arms and legs were just long and thin enough to feel off. Her fingers were longer than they should have been, with the index and middle fingers starting to merge together, along with her ring and pinkies. Her eyes only held empty sockets, with faint white pinpricks giving their only hint of life.
The sight startled him, and Will jolted back, knocking into a tray behind him. It slid on its wheels and bumped into the wall with a sharp clatter. Will barely caught himself before he could fall to the floor. The ghostly glow remained, and after taking a few deep breaths, he looked over to the ghost again.
His face softened as he recognized her.
"...Vesper?"
The ghost stood in silence for a long moment. Long streaks of tears shone on her face, yet the faintest trace of a smile rested on her lips. She stood patiently with her hands behind her back. Her skirt and hair remained still, even as the cooling vents blew right through her.
The effect unnerved him.
"Mr. Will."
Her voice gave a soft, hollow echo as she spoke.
"...That's me," Will said, seeing his breath mist up in Vesper's light.
He swallowed hard, still trying to accept what he saw before him. Every inch of skin pricked.
"...Have you...have you been here all this time?" he asked.
Vesper nodded.
"Puppet kept me safe," she said, simply.
Her voice held a strange, near-monotone quality to it...not unlike a machine attempting to mimic human speech and emotion.
Will watched her mouth widen in a grin. Chills unrelated to the cool air crawled over his flesh. The little girl's hollow eyes, wide smile, deformed hands, and tear-streaked cheeks reminded him of the marionette in question.
"Why didn't you show yourself before?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"I could not, Mr. Will," Vesper explained, her smile fading a little. "Puppet was my vessel."
"Your...vessel?" Will asked, wondering how she knew such a word.
Vesper nodded. She moved her hands from behind her back, and gently played with the hem of her skirt. Her merging fingers tried to separate. Occasionally, she managed to pull a small gap between them.
"When I broke," she said, "my files transferred to Puppet. I became a part of it."
She frowned.
"Puppet does not have a…" Vesper paused to recall the correct terminology, "...voice module, so I could not speak."
Will silently pondered this, trying to translate it into terms he better understood.
"So it's like getting a new body," he said, "and being stuck with what it can do."
The little ghost nodded.
"Then...how are you here now, little one?" Will asked, gently.
Vesper's gaze dropped to the floor.
"I could not leave my vessel," she said. "None of us can. Not until they break."
"Until they..."
Will quickly put it together. He got down on one knee to better be level with her.
"Greg broke Puppet?"
Vesper went still, save for her hands fidgeting with her skirt. Ghostly tears trickled down her cheeks as she slowly nodded her head.
"...He hurt us, Mr. Will," she whispered. "That is why I am here."
Will tried to take her hand, but found his own going through hers. Vesper moved her hands to her face, trying to wipe her eyes. Her ghostly whimpers echoed around the refrigerator. Will gave her a moment to get it out, and let her words sink in.
He hurt us.
Vesper Belrose disappeared over twenty years ago. Twenty years, trapped in the Puppet's body, seeing, hearing, and feeling everything it did. They watched the world from the confines of the box, waiting for someone to find them as they gradually melded into one being.
A human child, and a robot capable of learning.
Was this how she knew things above a normal child's level? Spoke like a machine? Lost her human eyes and deformed parts of her body in her ghostly form?
Will started to reach for her hand again, but stopped, knowing it would do nothing. He tried a different tactic instead.
"How did you find me?" he asked, when her crying dwindled down a bit.
Vesper wiped her eyes. More tears fell from her cheeks in a constant unending stream.
"...I-I followed you," she said.
She looked up again. Will tried to keep back his uneasiness at looking right into her empty eyes.
"I can...feel people," she said. "Especially when they are stuck in the dark."
Will chose not to dwell on the implication.
"Well, I'm glad you found me," he said, standing up. "I can find my way out now."
Vesper smiled again. She stayed put as Will shifted the trays, now having a better idea of how to get out. After a few minutes of shuffling, he found the refrigerator door. He pushed against it, and felt the resistance.
"Locked," he said, "or stuck."
Vesper stepped up behind him.
"I will go to get help," she said.
"Thanks," Will said, happy enough to be at the exit.
He checked his watch. Vesper's glow allowed him to finally read the hands.
12:02am.
The glow disappeared immediately after.
"...Vesper?"
For several moments, he got no answer. Will pressed against the freezer door again, and tried to shove it open with no luck.
"Vesper?" he called again.
For several moments, he didn't get an answer. Finally, Will heard something heavy being moved on the other side. A few shifts, and a click, and the door opened.
The sudden refrigerator light above blinded him as he stepped out of it. Once freed, the door shut behind him. Will turned around to see his savior, but the sudden darkness blinded him. Sounds of a struggle caught his attention. Even from here, he heard Mike yelling, his words inaudible over the thrashing sounds mingling with it. Will tried to follow, but found himself tripping over something in the dark.
His shins and hips hit against something tall, hollow, and metal. A few seconds to catch himself and place that distinct sound told him what Greg used to prop the refrigerator door shut:
Waylon's filing cabinet.
Will turned to the kitchen door, to see it swing back a final time to shut.
In the round kitchen window, he barely caught a glimpse of a red polo with familiar gold embroidery, the yellow threads catching just enough of the hallway light. A small wave of black trailed behind it, giving him just enough to piece it together.
Will's eyes widened. A gasp died on his lips as he stared at the window.
"...Bon?"
Before he could decide whether or not it was a hallucination, Vesper appeared beside him. Will barely held back a cry of shock as he gripped his chest.
"I need your help," Vesper said. "Follow me."
Will took a long, deep breath before answering.
"Mike needs mine," he said, heading for the door.
"That is why you need to help me!" Vesper said, getting in front of him. "I know what the Smiling Man did!"
She morphed through the kitchen door. Will pushed it open in time to see her heading for the dining room.
"Thanks, Schmidt!" he heard Greg call.
"No!" Mike screamed.
More thrashing sounds followed.
"Mr. Will!" Vesper said, urgently. "Come on!"
It only took Will a split second to make a choice.
07/31/1970 01:29:07pm
Costume_protocol engaged.
Most of her equipment was disabled, but the speakers remained on, gathering information from the birthday party. Several kids laughed and chattered excitedly. A nearby adult shushed them.
"All right. It's time for the birthday song!"
Many of them quieted down as the performance began. While her voice module was disabled, she heard her wearer sing along with Fredbear, and heard their padded feet tapping over the tiles in a dance. Soon after, there were sounds of ripping paper and happy chatters as the birthday girl opened her gifts.
A new, strange sound suddenly disrupted the party.
A large crack, followed by a pained, moist gargle. Desperate scratches near the mask. Fredbear suddenly speaking up.
Standby mode disengaged.
Costume_protocol engaged.
Disengaging costume_protocol.
Engaging animatronic_protocol.
Activating internal camera.
The room came into view as the internal cameras powered on. Several small guests stared at her, while Fredbear moved to get their attention.
"I-it looks like Bonnie's lost her voice!" he said, cheerfully, but with concern. "Why don't we-why don't we stay at the table and have some cake while our wonderful staff helps her out?"
Quick, heavy footsteps came on either side.
"It's okay, Bon," came a familiar voice.
Voice print match.
Bringing up profile: Gregory Mortman.
"Just keep walking."
Auto update date and time: 07/31/1970 01:34:26pm
Uploading Fredbear_Pizza14062 map.
They were no longer in the dining room, but the backstage area.
"Help me get her over here, then set her down!" came Greg's voice.
The room became a blur as she was turned around and made to sit down. Upon looking down at her golden feet, she saw red oil leaking over the tiles, with a pair of dark slacks and shoes before her. They stepped away from the growing puddle. Soon, she was facing the ceiling as the men pushed her onto her back. Greg got up, and rummaged through one of the shelves, looking for something. As soon as he found it, he straddled her.
Facial recognition engaged.
Auto update date and time: 07/31/1970 01:36:03pm
Uploading known database.
"What are you doing?" his partner asked.
Greg looked away from Spring Bonnie to yell at his companion.
"Getting the damn mask off so she can breathe easier, dumbass! Go do something useful, like keeping the kids out. Call an ambulance. Something!"
He turned back to his work, his face in full view once more. Spring Bonnie watched as his arms moved. A few ratcheting sounds came onto her microphones. Within a few moments, the cameras cut out as Greg disconnected the mask.
ERROR: An unexpected error occured.
Attempting to retrieve data.
ERROR: Unable to retrieve data.
Retry-
Mike tried to pull his hands from Greg's grip. The dayshift guard held one wrist in each hand, pinning them down on either side of Mike's head. He dug his knees into the night guard's thighs to make it harder to struggle or kick him off.
"Want to know what his last moments were like, kiddo?" Greg asked.
Mike glared, and kept trying to pull his hands free.
"You killed him! You murdered him in cold blood, you son of a bitch!"
Greg just smirked.
"I remember it quite vividly," he said, leaning a little closer to Mike's ear. "How he trembled in that costume. How he was crying behind the mask."
"Sh-shut up!"
Greg tightened his grip and shifted his weight to ensure he kept Mike down.
"He tried so hard to be brave," Greg continued. "Kind of like you're doing now. It made it so much sweeter when the springs finally snapped."
"S-so you're...gonna put me in that suit," Mike said, narrowing his eyes.
"Once I get it ready," Greg said. "If you're lucky, it'll be quicker for you."
A smirk.
"But I wouldn't count on it. From the way Jeremy begged and cried, I don't doubt you'll do the same."
He moved Mike's wrists over his head and worked to catch them both in one hand again. He then reached up and quickly hit the door switch, blocking the night guard from an easy escape. Mike fought him, trying to get even one of his hands free.
"If you're tr-trying to frame me," Mike said, "g-good fucking luck. I'm too small to fit it properly, genius!"
"I already thought of that," Greg said. "Someone's getting framed, but it's not going to be you. You are quite a bit shorter than Mr. Fitzgerald, I'm afraid. The suit wasn't made for someone your size."
He grabbed Mike's neck, his thumb and middle finger directly over distinct pressure points. Thinking quickly, Mike blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"...Like Bonnie?" he asked. "Bonnie Wickes?"
Greg's fingers started to press into his neck, stopping only because Mike's question caught him off-guard.
"How do you know about her?" he demanded. "How-?"
A loud SMACK filled the room as Greg stumbled forward and let go of Mike. Mike wasted no time in taking advantage of the confusion to kick him off and move away from Greg. The desk chair crashed to the floor, its wheeled base turning on the tile until it stopped.
Greg pushed himself up, wincing in pain. He turned around, furiously glaring at the right door. His skin paled at what he saw, and the confident arrogance he displayed a moment ago dissipated with it.
He saw the uniform first, dark slacks with a distinct red polo tucked into the waist. Fredbear and Spring Bonnie's faces smiled down at him from the front pocket. An outstretched golden hand reached for him.
Then he saw the angry snarl, the narrowed green eyes that glared down at him, the round cheeks that kept her deceptively young. The office light caught the outline of her straight black hair, and the shine of her favorite plastic red headband.
"...Bonnie?"
She lowered her hand and took a step forward, lingering near the Spring Bonnie suit. She gave it a quick glance, before turning to Greg. Her voice echoed a little as she spoke.
"How indeed, Gregory?"