The Road Home 7
The fog was so thick it made it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of him, even the bright lights of the car couldn't pierce the swirling mists forcing him to drive like an old lady. He was even leaning forward, gripping the wheel in a white knuckle grip like some blue haired old biddy.
"The hell did this even come from?" Mike asked no one in particular. The forecast called for clear skies and warm temps. A front must have come in while he was sleeping since when he had left the fog had been a lot thinner, almost misty but now it was thick as pea soup.
The glowing neon lights of the restaurant peered from the darkness showing Freddy's stoned smiling face while the parking lot lights flickered, throwing pools of sickly yellow light in the dark. Maintenance really needed to fix the damn things but like everything else, nothing ever seemed to get done.
Mike pulled into his usual spot near the side and turned the ignition off. "Ready for another night of chasing the rabbit?" he forced an uneasy grin and turned towards his silent companion. The dog tilted his head one way then the other, mouth parted slightly in a mimicry of painting while the stub tail wagged. Oddly enough he didn't feel the heated stare of Charlie burning a hole in the back of his head. He shrugged and figured she must have been busy with whatever ghosts did.
Mike opened the door and picked up Fetch then made his way inside, pausing long enough to clock in. Something seemed...off. Very off. The atmosphere was thick, reeking with a dangerous foreboding. He shook it off as the nerves and lack of sleep.
The walk to the security office was dull and far as he could tell nothing had changed. The checkerboard floor was still sticky, the curtains over the stage swayed slightly, disturbed by the air conditioning, the arcade games were silent but still he couldn't shake the feeling.
The phone was still on the floor, screen dark. It was surprising no one had attempted to steal it. Maybe they didn't want a possessed phone either. Gingerly he picked it up and put it on the desk then put Fetch down. The red light on the office phone flashed in the dimness.
Hello hello! See? I told you I wouldn't have any problems! Ok, so uh, just to update you, uh, try to avoid eye contact with any of the animatronics tonight if you can. Someone may have tampered with their facial recognition systems, maybe they are glitching - we're not sure. But the characters have been acting unusual, almost aggressively towards the staff. They interact with the kid's just fine, but when they encounter an adult, they just...stare. They should still see you as the night guard and should, uh, leave you alone.
That caught him off guard. The machines acting aggressive towards staff? The worst any of them had done was slap him though admittedly he really had deserved it. Toying with them shouldn't have produced any sort of aggression towards the other staff. Still he shrugged. It wasn't as if the machines would do anything other than stare.
Or maybe slap someone.
He chuckled darkly then sat down, flicking the monitor on. The mirth rapidly vanished when he saw the door to Parts and Maintenance was open again. Staff kept it locked at all times and only a few people had keys. The sense of wrongness made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
He rapidly flicked through the cameras, searching the shadow shrouded rooms for any trace of a broken down animatronic. The party rooms, the arcade room, everything was orderly and devoid of unpleasant surprises. Still he kept searching the cameras for the better part of an hour before sitting back, fiddling with the flash light. The last shift must have been in a hurry and left it open by accident, he tried to convince himself. The old machines couldn't move, not at all, not without power. Their servos would be frozen in place any way.
A few hours into his shift with none of the animatronics moving had him calming down and turning the phone back on. 'Is there something you want me to retrieve?'
"Yeah, a can of soda." he would have said beer but there was none in the restaurant. Not anymore. Not after what had become known as the Incident. He wasn't sure what had really happened since the details varied depending on who told it but it involved something very lewd and thankfully didn't happen in view of kids.
Fetch toddled off, short legs carrying in the direction of the kitchen.
The phone remained blessedly silent other than the occasional message from Fetch throughout the night. He could almost relax if it wasn't for the four cans worth of soda sitting in his bladder like a lead weight, making him constantly shift uncomfortably. "Why the hell did I drink so much?" he muttered while shifting through the cameras. Seeing nothing ominous he got up and darted for the bathroom, doing the pee pee dance while he pushed the door open and ran inside.
"Fuck…" he groaned as his bladder emptied despite the mental images of a strange staring frog. He shook off making the keys and assorted things on his belt jingle noisily before tucking everything back in and zipping up. He washed his hands then strode back to the security office though the walk became a sprint when the atmosphere became thick, heavy. A warning tingled across his senses.
Mike grabbed the monitor and flipped rapidly between the cameras. There, in the main room, there was a shadow. A large one that felt ominous. It wasn't shaped like a rabbit, chicken-duck or bear, more like a….fox.
He sucked in a breath. It should be impossible.
The soft tap of metal on metal echoed through the halls and the shadow vanished. "Shit!" he searched the cameras looking for it but it seemed to be aware of the cameras and stayed in the blind spots. Heart racing and chest tightening he picked up the flashlight and shone it down the hallway. The bright piercing ray of light glinted off metal.
"Oh shit, oh shit…" he glanced towards the hall as the flash light flickered then died plunging the room into semi darkness. He hit the flashlight on the desk a few times as if the punishment would make it work only to stop when he heard a chilling sound of metal on metal, the hiss of hydraulics and the low growl of Fetch. Somehow, some way one of the old machines had activated and it was coming for him.
Out of the darkness something lunged and he jerked to the side just in time for a rusted hook to slam down into the desk, piercing the thick wood. A pair of malevolent glowing yellow eyes fixed on him while a jaw full of sharp teeth clicked together.
Mike grabbed Fetch and dogged past the fox who swung at him again, hook passing so close that it caught the fabric of his shirt and ripped a long gash in the uniform. The dog was snarling and growling at the threat, straining to get free of his hold but he held it even tighter. The fox would destroy the smaller animatronic.
Footsteps, fast and harsh rushed behind him as he ran with all he had into the main party room and didn't stop. The fox charged in then slipped on the floor, going down in a heap of limbs, the crash of metal on tile loud in the large space. Thinking quickly he ran into the arcade room and squeezed behind the nearest machines, pressing himself flat against the wall. Sweat trickled down his skin while his heart hammered in his chest.
The heavy footfalls slowly approached the room then paused then continued, circling the room like a shark. He squeezed his eyes shut and squeezed further behind the machines while the fox continued to circle, searching.
It knows I'm here. He wedged himself further behind a row of arcade games, tangled electrical cords threatened to entangle his legs with each step. He could see it stalking back and forth, catching flickers of it through the gaps.
He was cornered, the only way out was past the thing and he wasn't fast enough to make it.
He heard a clash of metal on metal and the nearest console rocked back against the wall, It hit the machine again, shattering the display, then attacked the next, crashing against them almost rhythmically, tearing through the machinery, coming closer.
The console a few feet away crashed against the wall and he flinched. It was getting closer, he could hear the grinding of gears and clicking of servos. And the smell….the stench of mildew, dry rot and rusting metal filled the small crawl space in a choking cloud. Suddenly the console in front of him was wrenched away. It toppled over, thrown down like a toy.
"Shit!" he ducked under its swing then lunged forward past it, wincing at the sharp pain that blossomed in his shoulder but he didn't stop running. If he did it would catch him.
He slammed into the security door and barged out into the parking lot, the cold tendrils of mist swirling around him. Mike turned, chest heaving, eyes wide to look at the door. If it was anything like the others it couldn't leave the building but to his horror the heavy metal door slammed open and the fox stood in the doorway, malevolent yellow eyes fixating on him
You have to be kidding me. I'm about to be murdered by a rusted outdated machine that shouldn't be able to move. He spun and ran for the car, trembling idiot fingers fumbled with the keys as the sound of metal on pavement neared. Panic clawed widely at his very being as he managed to get the door unlocked. Mike slammed the door shut just as the fox closed the gap between them, hook held high. The window cracked and spiderwebbed.
He jammed the key into the ignition and floored the accelerator causing the wheels to spin widely against the pavement, leaving a trail of foul black smoke and streaks of rubber to mark its passage. The car nosed into the thick fog and down the street at breakneck speeds for several miles before slowing to a safer speed.
Mike's hands gripped the wheel in a white knuckled grip that made his fingers ache as he leaned forward, staring into the mists where traffic lights and street lights were barely visible, and their light muted. His mind raced, the encounter spinning around and around in his head.
The car came to a stop at a four way street, lights piercing the gloom. He leaned back and sucked in a shallow breath and tried to steady his heart beat. After a few moments he turned the car to head home, to sanctuary but hesitated then headed the other way. He really didn't feel like being alone, not after that.
Jeremy was jerked awake by frantic knocking at the door. He looked at the alarm clock with bleary eyes then groaned. Two thirty in the morning. He wanted to roll over and go back to sleep but it was too late now, he was awake and would never get back to sleep.
With a grumble he swung his legs over the bed then fumbled around in the dark for the ridiculous furry purple slippers (a gift from a different girlfriend, one he liked far better than Creepy Staring Frog) then zombie shuffled to the front door.
"Mike?" Jeremy blinked a few times, surprised. "Do you have any idea of what time it is?"
"No...I shit, Jeremy." Mike pushed his way in, put Fetch down then plopped down on the couch, head in hands, hair damp with sweat.
Jeremy almost snapped at the man then shut up when he saw how distressed he was and then he saw the dark stain slowly spreading on the back of the other man's shirt. "Mike, what happened? You're bleeding!" he knelt down beside the man, concerned etched in his face.
"It's nothing, it's really shallow. I got attacked."
"By who? Did you see-"
"By one of the animatronics."
"That's...that shouldn't be possible, not with the way they were programmed." They didn't attack people. And they didn't attack the staff.
"It was a fox. An old Foxxy from one of the old locations." Mike winced and leaned back a bit. His father had something to do with it, of which he was certain. The bastard never stayed dead for long.
Mike wasn't the kind to make things or panic easy. "What happened?"
"The fox entered my office and tried to rip me in half. It got its hook stuck in the desk just long enough for me to get the hell out of there and hide behind the arcade machines but the damn thing followed me. It even chased me out of the building and into the parking lot." None of it should have been possible yet it had happened. The whole incident screamed Affton.
"I'll make some coffee." He got up and made his way to the kitchen, wide awake now. And more than a little worried.
Mike nodded then sat up, shoulder blazing with pain. He looked down at the dog who was toddling around, seemingly unfazed by the events. If only he could forget so easily. He looked up when Jeremy returned with a steaming cup of black coffee. He took it with a mutter thanks and sipped it, the strong bitter liquid sliding down his tongue.
Jeremy sat down heavily on the overstuffed armchair. "Better fire up the Mystery Machine, I think we have a mystery on our hands."
"This isn't Scooby-Doo."
Jeremy forced a smile. "You could be Fred and I'll be Shaggy, we already have Scooby." he motioned towards the dog that was inspecting the living room.
Despite the fear and panic and confusion he couldn't help but to smile.
"I know someone who has an old van. Could paint it up and go around solving mysteries and be chased by cheesy looking monsters." Jeremy joked.
"Hope it pays better than being a guard at a restaurant with creepy toy like animatronics."
"Not really. I think it pays worse."
Michael couldn't help but to chuckle. "I feel like I'm in a horror movie."
"Maybe we are in a horror movie. They are pretty good at hiding the cameras and crew." Mike sat up and rubbed his face then sat the cup down. Joking about their situation helped take some of the stress away.
They both jumped when Creepy Staring Frog suddenly came to life, banging away on its tiny toy drum while its head rocked back and forth, its clockwork grinding away loudly. Jeremy grabbed the awful thing, made his way to the door and flung the frog out into the fog. "I've always hated that thing." somewhere in the mists it kept playing.
A cold chill settled over the room, one that no amount of coffee or turning the heat up could dispel. "Think Cowery will believe either of us?"
"Nope. He's going to be pissed when he sees the arcade machines. The fox broke a few of them and broke the window of my car." Mike leaned back, wincing. He stared at the ceiling, thinking. He could just tell the fat turd there was a break in. Maybe he would believe it.
The trill of the phone ringing broke the silence. Both men looked at each other then the phone. Jeremy picked it up. The sound of static and tinny carousel music blasted through the speaker, filling the room with its noise. Jeremy yelped and flung the phone away. It hit the wall with a thud then the floor where it continued to scream its warning.
"That's what happened last time." They both got up, uneasy.
"What the fuck is going on?"
"Fucking Affton."
Fetch picked up the phone in its mouth and trotted back to its owner then sat back on its haunches, not bothered in the least by the sound pouring from the device. His heart thrummed in his chest, slamming against his ribs as cold fingers of fear and panic crept up his spine. After a moment of hesitation he took the phone. There was a message on the screen.
'The town calls.'
"It can connect to the phone? Where did you find it?"
"In the dumpster behind the restaurant, someone tossed it there."
'Silent Hill.'
Jeremy wanted to ask who the hell would throw an animatronic out that could connect to cell phones but there were far more pressing matters at hand. "How the hell can a town call any one?" it seemed ludicrous that a town could call anyone much less reach out through a cell phone. After all, it didn't have fingers or a voice.
"I used to live there. As a kid. That's where everything started."
Jeremy sat back, mind trying to absorb everything. "That's where the original Freddy's was."
"Yeah."
"Guess we are going to Silent Hill."
"No way in hell." Michael shook his head. "Not after everything that happened there." he could easily ignore the strange text messages. It wasn't as if the town could physically drag him kicking and screaming back. He leaned back with a wince, feeling exhausted.
"If horror movies have taught me anything, it is that whatever that is, it won't give up." he pointed out.
"Good thing this isn't a horror movie." Michael shifted a bit and put his feet up onto the table.
"Don't be so sure. Creepy fog, creepy animatronics, haunted phones."
"They must be really good at hiding the cameras since I haven't seen anything."
"They are very good at hiding the cameras. The crew walk around in plain clothes pretending to be normal people." Jeremey chuckled darkly while retrieving some beers from the fridge. "Speaking of horror movies, Chiller is starting its horror movie marathon tonight." he handed one of the beers to Michael.
"It starts tonight?" ever since high school they got together and watched the movie marathon, drank beers and made fun of the low budget horror movies. He twisted the cap off the beer and deep pull from the bottle.
"Yep. They started early this year. Guess they want to really cash in on Halloween." Jeremey sat down on the hideous recliner that may have been leather at one time but not was more duct tape then anything, beer in one hand, remote in the other. He flicked the TV and leaned back into the chair with a smile on his face despite the strange happenings. He could easily loose himself in the endless marathon of cheap horror movies for a while.
