Chapter 1, Night 7:
The dimly lit room was so damp this time of night, the smell of rot and mold would have clouded his sences if he didn't already smell like death itself, even after about three different body washes and a strong smelling dioderant brand Jeremy insists he can still smell. But the light, it was dim, that's whats important, maybe if the light was a bit brighter, he'd be able to see their shadows clearer in the hallways, rather then relying on the blurry, old, static filled cameras. "Peices of crap, how the bloody hell is anyone supposed to see with these." He mumbled to himself, his thick british accent a contrast to the americanised brand that he now had to work for. It used to be a simple diner his f-... never mind, this place was always cheap, unsafe and reaked of the shiftey, sculking pressece that sick man once had. At least, before he vanished. "Ugh! Get a grip Michael, think about something else." He leaned back, searching his brain for a nice thought, before settling on the conversation with Jeremy from that morning.
Now remeber," Jeremy said with vigar in his american twang, "If you die there, I will kill you." Michael rolled his eyes. "I'm already dead, and even if they stuff me into a suit, I'm basically bone. I'll fit snuggly but I'll fit." Jeremy gave a smirk that Michael knew was a bad sign. "Just like how snuggly I fit in your a-" "ARMS, yes, we will snuggle when i get back." He rolled his eyes harder as Jeremy laughed, "Yeah yeah, I already lost my sense of smell with your hugs, what else do I have to lose. Now seriously, dont die." Michael softly chucked, "I won't, I have a job to do and a promise to keep." He booped his companion on the nose and ruffled his soft ginger, unruley hair, and kissed both his cheeks. "Isn't that a british greeting?" "Bye Jeremy."
He smiled at the memory, rollig his eyes and letting out a sigh. He had gotten used to Jeremy's antics,living with him since '87 had become easy, especially since they got along so well. Jeremy knew what buttons to push to release the stick up Michael's ass, and Michael was Jeremy's self control. He didn't mind that role, especially since it wasn't Jeremy's fault. None of this was. BANG. Michael quickly turned his head, he head the footstep in the hallway. BANG. He checked the cameras one after another. Foxy was still at pirates cove, Chica was in the dining hall and Freddy was in the bathroom. Bonnie. Michael gasped as he turned on the light to see Bonnie, the large, looming, deep purple rabbit an inch from the door. He cried out before pressing the button to his left, and watching the large, heavy door slam infront of their faces. Michael let out a sigh, he was already on edge after hearing all that garbled mess on the phone last night, His fourth night there, that man was in unknown danger to Michael as he heard the man talk before something entered his room and interupted the feed, but now he couldn't deny that he was now dead. And these beasts, these monsters in his closet, killed him. He checked the lights again, the his camera, then opened the door. He sits back,checking the time. 4am, why is time so damn slow. Michael went back to check the cameras, foxy was still there, good. That corner was so hard to look at, the dark cloak of purple covering the red, rotting muzzle of the beast he used to love, the creature he created, that hurt his only friend. He wanted to run into the darkened establishment and dissasemble that fiend, but he knew that would be wrong. The children are unawear, they can't hear him. Driven to madness by their own hatrid and anxiety from being trapped in thoes plastic and metal, colourful prisons. Thoes five poor souls he had known nothing about, well, the ones roaming the halls. He knew her, and he knew him. He knew who "me" was, as images of the past flashed in his brain, a message, a warning, a threat. Michael ust sat there, remebering everything he had done to that poor boy, that weaping mess, his little brother. Of course he'd be angry. He checked the camera again, foxy was still there, he checked his doors, all clear, 5am. He would soon be going home to his best friend, his partner, the only man, the only person that stayed.He was so wrapped up in the thought of Jeremy, he didn't notice the figure sitting in his room. He looked down, staring into the cold sockets, of the yellow bear. It was slumped over like he remebered from last time, but he wouldn't hide, not again. "... I...I'm sorry." He sputtered. "I'm sorry Gabriel, I'm sorry whoever you are, sharing that terrible form with my brother. Please. I want to help you." His thoughts became clouded, he kept staring, seeing all the hate, before hearing a heart stopping roar errupt from the figure. Michael can feel his brain being perverted, everything he's lived through being exposed all at once. Ca. He could feel everything. The move, his fist, his heart break, the knife, his collar tight fisted, the sting of static, loss, pain, death, waking up, friendship... love. ssi. He felt the tears streaming down his face, his skull on the verge of exploding as he felt two small hands ring out his brain for them to drink the memories from, he couldn't take it. dy.
His eyes opened wide, there was no gasp for air, there would be no point, he doesn't have lungs. He sat up, finding he was lying on the floor after that, 'experience.' Michael's core suddenly shook,and almost out of nowhere, he began to sob. Uncontrollable just, sitting in his office. Sobbing. His head wasn't sore anymore, but his soul was heavy, his heart was probably in a dumpster somewhere, which is where it belonged, or at least that was his opinion on it. His soul burned with agony, but not his, not that familier burn he had lived with since his brother was taken. He felt his and the two that had clawed at his brain. His eyes lit up, as he suddenly stopped. A vision, nay, an idea. The poneguy did mention about the empty heads, maybe his brother would let him take a look. Michael wiped his tears, and got up. Putting faith in his bone thin legs, shaking a little as he stood. He looked over at the clock. 6am. He began to sprint to parts and services, slamming his body into the door before finding the shelves filled with mascot heads. He shuddered. "Just like the rooms I used to lock you in." he said to the empty room.Gently, he grasped one of the heads with both hands, and slowly lifted it. His eyes were fixated, and his body still. There was nothing. "What?" Michael mumbled to himself. He took his boney, purpled tinged finger, and dragged it gently across the shelf. A thin layer of dust was settled on his finger, but it was too thin, a lot thinner then the rest of the shelf looked. He then shook the decapitated bear head, and turned it over, looking into the gaping space that was usually filled with macinery. He sighs, and pokes around, he knows its safe after they got rid of springlocks, ad its not like he can bleed, but it was smooth. He started to worry, then traced the indents. He found the eye sockets but, they weren't the bear's. He grabbed into them, hooking out the smooth object that was tucked away into the suit. Michael sucked in nothing, if he had a stomache, it would be chruning. A small, round, damaged skull came out of the bear's head, but it was too small to be the bears. It was human, it was theirs. He shook, gagging a little before shoving it back ito the bear, before he heard something behind him. Michael cried out, swinging the head at the animatrnic behind him, and it fell from the trolly it was propped up against. "... what... are you doing in here?" The employee asked. Michael just, gently put the head down, not breaking eye contact with the employee, before he smiled awkwardly. he was screwed.
Michael tired to quietly close the door behind him, a bag of that weeks shopping and a few goodies swayed gently nex to his thin leg, rustling a little as the door shut. "Hey raisin-bran" A perky voice sang from the sofa. Michael sighed softly. "Morning Jeremy. I got your food." Michael gently put the bag on the slightly dirty table. It wasn't the biggest apartment, the living room and the kitchen were the same room, and there was a bedroom and a bathroom. The walls are slightly damp and dark but, its cozy, and easy on the eyes. Jeremy is slouched on the sofa, watching cartoons. "How was work honey?" Jeremy cooed as Michael put away the food. "Um... I got fired." Jeremy slowly sat up, and turned his head to Michael. "fired? like... pinkslip?" Michael sighed. "yes." Jeremy got up and stumbled over to Michael, giving his wrinkled, tough cheek a quick peck. "Daww, its ok bud, you'll get a new job. One that won't kill you, or gie you flashbacks, or make you cry at night." Michael stuttered, "I was crying again? I'm sorry." Jeremy sighed, "Don't be dumbass, i dry your tears and hold you like i always do! Besides, did you get any info? Meet any of them dead kiddos?" Michael walked Jeremy back over to the sofa, sitting down with him and rubbing his knee, to comfort himself. "Yes, I learned their name... the fifth." Jeremy hugged Michael close. "The one in the yellow one with your little brother?" Michael nodded softly, pressing his ear into Jeremy's shoulder as he lays on him. "Cassidy." Michael mumbles, gripping Jeremy's shirt. "Hm... That's a cute name! Also gender neutral, not confusing at all." Michael sighs. "Its ok Jeremy, we don't even need to know, they're dead. And they are stuck in that horrid place, like the rest of them." Jeremy makes a popping sound with his mouth, before giggling and kissing Michael. "But they won't be there forever. One of these days you'll find a way to set them free! I belive in you." Michael's soul warms, and he sighs his body decompressig, air was trapped in his empty chest again. "Thank you Jeremy. You make this so much easier." Jeremy picks Michael up, getting a small yelp as a response, "I know, I'm the greatest, it's not Thursday yet so, no hankey pankey but, I'll settle for a good spoon." Michael huffed, "I don't want to know where 'Hankey Pankey' came from." Jeremy just laughed, "Your british tv has such amazing new words that i can use to torcher you, now you might wanna jump out, becuase I have the mobility of my grandma, and she's dead." Michael gets up, before helping Jeremy to his feet. "... wait, didn't you just wake up?" "NAP TIME!" Jeremy screams excistedly before dragging Michael to bed. They get in, and Michael undresses under the covers. "Yawn." Jeremy grumbles, "Yes, yawn, you wanted to sleep didn't you?" Michael replys sarcastically, knowinf exactly what Jeremy ment. "Grumble mumble bramble sandle. Whatever, I'll just poke you when your asleep." "Don't." Jeremy kisses Micael's soft lavender forehead. "I'm teasing...maybe." Michael let out another sigh of trapped air, before letting himself drift off in Jeremys arms.