Five Nights at Freddys: Agent Lloyd
Chapter 2: Where Music Fills the Air
Agent Lloyd stared deeply at the bloodied letter on the wall, its form smeared and choppy, obvious markings of a print of some kind where the murderer had used an object to smear it across the wall, a printing that she found all too familiar.
Behind her, she could hear heavy footsteps as the sheriff entered the room and stood beside her. "So, Agent, what do you take of this crime scene? Gruesome, huh?" She was quiet for a moment, then looked over at him.
"I've seen this before."
"You have?" He surprised, taken aback by the idea that she had seen this before, but it was true. "Where?"
"Three years ago, I took a murder case from Alberton, a small town up in Montana. A young teenage boy was murdered in a diner, it was a…" She paused for a moment, remembering the details of the crime, the bloody mess left of the boy, the red stains that lingered well beyond cleaning, and the faint smell of the blood that she could still smell even to this day. "… Horrible mess."
The sheriff looked over at her, puzzled, but silent, as if urging her to continue.
"However, there was one thing that stood out, one piece of the puzzle that I never was able to piece out, and a clue that cost me the case and finding the man behind it…" She looked up at the bloodied letter on the wall, then back at the sheriff. "A letter on the wall, written in smeared blood, just like now. This time, its an F, and last time, it was an I."
"I? So, you're thinking that these two murders are somehow… linked? The same killer?"
She turned away from the scene, looking down at the floor. "Of course, unless it was a copycat killer, but the details of the case we're never made public, so…" She paused, just a moment, as she thought back to the case. The guilt, the thoughts that would plague the mind, of never being able to solve the case, leaving a heartbroken mother behind. "No… no, it has to be the same killer."
"Are you certain…? We can't jump the gun on this case, some of these towns' folk will be out for blood if the killer isn't found. Not that you city agents would understand." He chuckled before turning to walk out the room. "Well, if we're done here, the boys are going to clean up the scene and transport the bodies for an autopsy. We've got work to do city girl."
She could hear him laughing as he walked down the hallway, back the way she had come. How a sheriff could laugh during a time like this was beyond her, but after everything, she wouldn't let it get to her. Solving the case was of top priority, and she wouldn't fail, not this time, not like back in Alberton.
She stepped past the officers coming into the room and back out into the hallway, now empty, the only sounds coming from the lobby she had passed through before, and the room she had just been in. The hall, and the rest of the restaurant she had seen thus far, it all looked like such a happy place. For such a tragedy to occur within these walls, it felt unnatural.
All the more reason to solve the case.
[…]
Down the left hallway from where Agent Lloyd was, sitting in a now empty room, was a mess of robotic parts lying in a heap on the floor, what was left of a pink and white animatronic fox. The room was silent, save for the light crackle of a radio, static from the broken voice box belonging to the poor creature.
Toy Foxy, or The Mangle, as they were called by the employees, lay perfectly still, watching, waiting, listening to the silence that filled the room. It had been hours since the pizzeria had closed, and all the children had gone away. She wasn't entirely sure why, but the presence of police officers and even the sheriff meant it must've been something important.
Ever since the day guard had come running by almost seven hours earlier, everything had changed. Still, it wasn't like change was bad, the silence and lack of children was almost a blessing in disguise to The Mangle. Peace and quiet, not being ripped apart by tiny hands, it was all she had ever asked for, and to be quite honest, she liked it. Perhaps a tragedy had happened, but as all tragedies were considered, it had a silver lining. She wouldn't complain.
A noise down the right hall that led into the room caught her attention, her ears perked up, and her gaze fell to the hallways end. Footsteps, slow footsteps, perhaps another police officer heading towards the buildings entrance, or perhaps one of the employees coming to check over her again.
She also caught the sound of a voice, one she had never heard before, seemingly speaking to themselves as they slowly made their way down the hallway. Intriguing, it was, something that was a rare occurrence, and a little bit of spice to add to the boredom that usually befell upon the hours when the children weren't there. Being ripped apart wasn't fun, but it was more entertaining than sitting on the floor for hours.
"and get this, Cheryl, written on the wall in blood, right? Just like back in Alberton." A young fox, her fur colored in many shades of pink, walked into the room. She was wearing a dark suit with a tan overcoat, one hand holding a tape recorder, while the other idly sat in her pocket. "I can't chalk this up to mere coincidence, it has to be the same killer. I've been given a second chance to catch this guy, and I'm not going to fail this time."
The Mangle watched with much interest, as the girl spoke into the tape recorder to some mysterious 'Cheryl'. It was odd, very odd, but also held an air of intrigue that she couldn't help but fall into. There was something, something strange, about this person that The Mangle couldn't help but be curious about.
"I've decided to check around this pizzeria a bit more, see if I can find any leads or clues to help me out. Right now I'm standing in a room, and judging by the sign on the wall, it's called the kids cove. Interesting name, I must admit." The girl paused, looking around the room before her pale blue eyes fell upon the Mangle.
Their eyes locked, and there was a brief moment of silence as she stared deeply into those pale blue eyes, their deep, rich color that seemed to hold a thousand secrets, like the waves upon a beach, or the enriching color of a cloudless sky. She couldn't help but get lost in the gaze, and for just a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The girl stepped forward, a strange look on her face as those pale blue eyes scanned over her.
The girl slowly stepped near to her before leaning down in front of The Mangle, her strange look of confusion replaced by one of concern, maybe even sorrow.
"Oh, you poor thing. You look like you've seen better days…"
The Mangle was taken aback, still staring directly at the stranger who was now practically leaning over her, allowing her to get a closer look. She held a beauty in her that The Mangle was keen to notice, from her pale blue eyes to the glossy look of her crimson lips. She was too stunned to respond, and whether that be from the beauty of this individual or the fact that she was even taking the time to speak to her.
She placed a hand on The Mangle's head. "What's your name? Can you speak anymore?"
Such display of genuine concern, it was unnatural for a person to show kindness to her, not since she had fallen into a state of such disrepair. Most only commented on how ugly she was, or the frightening look she put off. This was something new, something new that she liked.
She opened her mouth, speaking low and lightly, her voice crackling and filled with static.
"My name is… The Mangle…"
[…]
Agent Lloyd leaned over the mess of robotic parts below her, the mess of an animatronic that seemed to be modeled after her kin, a fox. The poor creature seemed to have trouble speaking, as its distinctly female voice, something that she noted for future reference, was soft and low with a distinct crackle and static tried to mask the words she spoke.
"My name is… The Mangle…"
The Mangle, an appropriate name for a creature in such a state of disrepair, but the hint of sorrow within her voice seemed to suggest a sort of disdain or regret towards the name. A fact that, combined with the look in her eyes, caused and twinge of pain in the young agent's heart.
"Well, Mangle… I'm Fuchsia Lloyd, special agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigations." She flashed the badge at the animatronic, though if the rumors she had heard of these animatronics and their facial recognition software, she was sure the mangle already knew that.
"An FBI agent? Why are you here?" She tilted her head, those yellow eyes of hers peering at the agent as she leaned back.
"Well…" Would it be best to mention the murders, she thought, if she hadn't heard anything about it until now. Though if these animatronics were as intelligent as this one seemed to be, perhaps they could be of help.
"I'm here investigating the murder of five children earlier this morning… I'm looking for clues on the killer." Best not to give too many details, keep it short and simple. She would have found out eventually, as would the entire town when the incident was published in the paper. That is if the angry mob outside didn't spread the word before the paper came out by tomorrow.
"O-oh." The Mangle's reaction was short and sweet, there really was no need to sugarcoat it. "I was wondering why we had shut down… that is… unfortunate."
With each word spoken by the Mangle, Agent Lloyd became more convinced that she held a sort of intelligence not capable of an ordinary robot. Programming can only take you so far, but this, this was something more.
"Of course… I feel the same way." Agent Lloyd stood up from where she had been leaning over the animatronic, watching as she raised her head to follow. "Well, it was nice meeting you, but… got some official bureau work to get to Ms. Mangle."
"Goodbye, Agent…" The Mangle called out as Fuchsia turned away, sending a single wave to the animatronic as she stepped into the hallway and out of sight.
[…]
The lobby was more crowded than when Agent Lloyd had first come through, crowded by the employees of the company and a few police officers, as well as the rest of the pizzeria's animatronics crowded onto the show stage, about nine of them in total. Did each of them have the same intelligence as the Mangle did, she wondered, did they each have a personality? She would have to question them all eventually, she supposed.
"Ah, agent. About time you showed up. Officer Winston was going to conduct interrogations of the employees. I'm assuming city girl wants to be a part of that?"
She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she walked near to him and stood in place. "And where are you going then? Shouldn't you be a part of the interrogations?"
He scoffed. "I've got paperwork back at the station to take care of. Besides, you've got it covered, don'tcha?" He gave a dismissive wave as he walked away. She found his general lack of respect annoying, but it was whatever.
"Alright…" She turned to the other officer in the room, the one Sheriff Kenneth had called Officer Winston. Sure enough, his golden name badge read Daniel Winston. The tall, brown haired man looked to be around thirty years old, and he stood at attention as Agent Lloyd turned to look at him.
"Officer Winston, huh? Special Agent Fuchsia Lloyd, I'm sure your sheriff already spoke of me then?" She held out a hand, and to her surprise the young officer to her hand and shook it.
"Nice to meet you ma'am! I'd like to apologize for the sheriff's behavior, he's not a fan of out of towners coming in and doing his job…"
She'd heard that type before, most sheriffs didn't like agents coming in, she'd only met one or two who were friendly with her. Being in their shoes, she bet that she would feel the same, guess that was just the American way.
"Oh, nah. Don't worry about it, Officer, something you're used to in the Bureau."
"Please, just call me Daniel."
A first name basis? She could tell that he was much friendlier than the sheriff was, or any of the other officers she had come across since she had arrived. Working with Daniel would be quite easy compared to most others, a fact she was thankful for.
It was one less thing to worry about.
"Well, I suppose we should start? Right Agent Lloyd?"
"Right."
She turned away from the officer and towards the group of employees spread about the many tables. The first thing she noticed was one of the employees, a man dressed like a chef, was crying, quite loudly she would add, as two others stood around him, trying to comfort him. He must be a parent of one of the victims, she thought, feeling bad for the man. That would make things difficult, sadly.
A crying person, no matter who they are, was always hard to interrogate, whether that be from them trying to block out the memories, or them crying so much that they could hardly speak. Though she always felt for them, she hated just how difficult it would make her job.
[…]
"And then... I walked into the parts and service room, and I… I found…" Jeremy trailed off, his voice trembling as he recalled what had happened earlier that day. He had been the first one to find the crime scene, and the young man seemed very shaken up about it. He already seemed to have a nervous disposition, so the being question about this seemed exceedingly difficult for him. He stuttered, trailed off, uttered a few 'ums' and 'uhs' every so often.
Agent Lloyd placed a hand on the man's shoulder and smiled kindly at him. "Thank you, Mr. Fitzgerald, I think I understand the rest." He blushed as he sat back in his chair. "Walking in on such a crime scene, well, it certainly will leave an impression."
The young man nodded as she spoke, his lips trembling as he bit down on them, a gesture which clearly showed how nervous he was. From her experience, it was easy to tell this nervousness came from anxiety and the whole stress of the situation. There was difference between nervous lying and nervous fear and anxiety.
"Anyway, I think that's it, Mr. Fitzgerald, you're free to go." She shook his hand as he stood up and went to go stand by the other people they had finished interrogating.
They had divided the work in two, each of them interrogating one person at a time, and it had been successful thus far. She'd already interviewed one of the waitresses, a girl named Jennifer, and a younger teenager who worked in the kitchen, named Christopher. Both, just like Jeremy, didn't strike Agent Lloyd as suspicious, just as young people with a job trying to make it in the world.
She turned to look at officer Winston, who sat in the chair next to her, a resting look of concentration on his face as he leaned back in the seat.
"Well, Daniel?" She spoke quietly, leaning towards the man to make sure no one could hear. 'What do you think."
"I doubt it's any of them. They don't really strike me as suspects, but we should keep an eye on them just in case."
Agent Lloyd nodded; it was a good idea. Sometimes, the best of criminals could lie through their teeth at you without being suspicious. It was all about acting, she knew a thing or two about that.
"Next!" She called out, looking down at the list of names. The next employee on the list was a man named Harold Conners, a janitor at the pizzeria. "Harold Conners?"
A crusty old man with greasy, grey hair came to the table. He was dressed in a green jumpsuit, absolutely covered in various stains. She didn't want to judge, but he certainly fit the part of janitor.
"Let's get this over with." He grumbled, his voice deep and nasally, it sounded like he smoked a pack of cigarettes a day.
"Right… Mr. Conners, how are you this evening?"
"I'd be a lot better if you officers would quit your yapping and I could go home." Officer Winston seemed to wince at those words, and Agent Lloyd glanced over at him before looking back at the crusty old man before them.
"Right… So, where we're you at around elven thirty this morning?" His face showed no hint of emotion beyond an angry glare, a glare straight into her soul.
"I was cleaning the toilets, like I always do." He sighed a mumbled something under his breath.
"What was that, Mr. Conners?"
"None of you're damn business, woman!" She didn't feel none to taken aback, older folks usually didn't respect her to much, but the aggression he held seemed to hint at something more.
"Alright… I suppose you're free to go, Mr. Conners." Officer Winston seemed to shoot up, looking at her with a look that seemed to say, 'Really?' A single nod from her, and he sat back down, perhaps he had gotten the message that she knew what she was doing.
"Bout damn time." The old man stood up from the chair and hobbled over to a door labeled employees only, and disappeared.
"Are we really going to let him go, just like that?"
Agent Lloyd nodded, and looked over at him. "It's getting late, and an old man like that shouldn't be kept to long. Besides…" She leaned in closer to him and whispered in his ear. "I've got some suspicions… better to let him think he is off the hook."
"Right…" The officer nodded, then let a long yawn.
It was getting a little late, perhaps it would be best to call it quits for the night, maybe finish up the interrogations tomorrow.
"Right, well… thank you all for staying late, we'll call the rest of you back in tomorrow to continue the interrogations."
She got a few half hearted 'thanks' and 'goodnights' from the employees, all of which seemed eager to get home and go to bed after such a long day, and she didn't blame them. She was getting a little tired herself, and it was always best to do interrogations when she could be at her best performance.
"Well, Daniel. Tell me, any nice and clean hotels around here?"
"Well, Ms. Lloyd, there is this one…"
[…]
Almost forty minutes later, Agent Lloyd was checked into her hotel room, it was lucky the place that Daniel had recommended allowed her to check in without a reservation, she'd have hated to spend the night in her car.
Laying down on her bed, she grabbed her tape recorder from off the bedside table where she had set it.
"Cheryl, it's half past ten, and I'm getting ready for bed. I met some of the most interesting people today, including a robotic fox. I'm hoping that during my investigations I'll get to question her more, she seems most interesting."
She set her recorder back down on the bedside table and clicked the lamp off.
Slowly, she drifted off to sleep.
[…]
Darkness, deep, inky darkness seemed to fill the room, making the world around seem like a void. No light could penetrate the deep darkness, a not a thing could be seen in the seemingly infinite space. A deep boring silence, only broken by the sound of metal clicking every few moments.
A deep, alluring voice, soft and melodic, yet with a deep, brooding undertone, broke through the darkness.
"The thrill is gone
The thrill is gone
I can see it in your eyes
I can hear it in your sighs
Feel your touch and realize
The thrill is gone
The nights are cold
For love is old
Love was grand when love was new
Birds were singing, skies were blue
Now it don't appeal to you
The thrill is gone
This is the end
So why pretend
And let it linger on
The thrill is gone
The thrill is gone..."
Words seemed to echo, it was an old Jazz song she had heard before, long, long ago. Fuchsia opened her eyes to find herself sitting in the darkness, as the deep voice slowly, methodically repeated the words of the song again, getting quieter with each verse.
"One eye seen it all, seen everything you seek." Another voice echoed from within the inky darkness, this one sharp and shrill, like the voice of a young child.
"One eye, all knowing, all seeing."
A flash of bright light, and Fuchsia found herself elsewhere, sitting in the booth of a small diner. Checkered floors, a purple curtain on the far wall, open to reveal an empty, wooden stage. A single slice of cherry pie sat on the table in front of her, steaming, as if it had just come out of the oven.
She glanced up towards the stage, a flicker of movement catching her eye, and there stood a golden bear with gaping holes in its eyes, the same inky blackness from before seemingly pouring from the empty sockets.
"The cherries from the garden make the best pies." The sharp voice again, seemingly echoing from within the golden bear on the stage. She looked down at the pie, then back up to the stage. Next to the bear, stood someone familiar. It was the teenage boy, the one who had been murdered in Alberton, staring down at her.
"Doesn't she look familiar, Fuchsia?" The boy question, his head tilting to the side as he glanced over at the golden bear. "Doesn't she look familiar?"
Fuchsia looked over at the golden bear, then back to the boy again, her mind somehow calm, uncaring, despite what was happening, and she opened her mouth to speak.
"No. No she doesn't." She said to the boy before looking over at the golden bear. "Do I know you?"
"Not quite, but I feel like you do." The golden bear took a step off the stage, one foot on the checkered floor, and the other on the wooden stage, her darkened eyes still staring directly at Fuchsia.
"He's filled with secrets, the one eye." The boy spoke softly, his hands resting on the golden bear's shoulders as it now stood fully on the checkered floor. "Where he goes, music fills the air, and a familiar smell follows."
"Beware him, Fuchsia. He knows you are here."
As the deep voice from before returned, chanting the same jazz tune from before, the golden bear walked closer to Fuchsia's booth, leaning in close to whisper in her ear.
"Beware the man named…"
[…]
Fuchsia awoke with a sweat, shooting up from where she lay in her hotel bed, the memory of her dream still lingering in her mind.
[End Chapter]