The first thing I did when I woke up was waltz to the kitchen to eat something. The fridge was mostly empty; it had beer bottles, ketchup, pickles, and mayonnaise inside. I checked the cabinets and found peanut butter, tea bags, and a full-size bag of Cheetos. I poured the Cheetos into the bowl I'd used last night for popcorn, then sat on top of the counter.
Father trudged into the kitchen without a shirt on, rubbing his face. His eyes snapped to the bowl in my hand. "What are you eating?"
"Cheetos," I said with a 'duh' tone. His nose scrunched up and he grunted an "okay". As I munched on my 'breakfast', I watched him wash out the rusty kettle for tea. My eyes kept going back to the symmetrical lines dancing on his back. What's that? I wanted to ask him, but something bit back my tongue.
"I need you to do something for me," Father said, not looking up from pouring hot water into a cup. I decided to play the funny guy, "Need me to find a deceased second-cousin twice removed?" Father turned slightly to look at me, his expression blank.
"Laundry."
Shit.
"Yes, Father," I could only sigh.
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"I need you to do something for me," I mocked, trying to copy his gravelly, overly-British voice. "Why can't the old man do his own stinkin laundry?" At least he let me take the car this time. I hauled the overflowing basket into the backseat of Father's car then briefly checked the lawn for any stray underpants. All clear. I hopped into the driver's seat, cranking up the car and patting my pockets to make sure I remembered to grab my wallet and driver's license.
"Next time he asks me to do something, I'm going to say no," I muttered as I pulled into the parking lot of the Laundromat, knowing good and well I say that every time I'm doing something for Father. Several times I came close to dropping the laundry basket on its way inside. Pinching my nose, I loaded the clothes into a washer. A button-up shirt didn't make it in the washer and fell at my feet. I picked it up and gagged at its pungent scent- it smelled like someone died in it. Speckles of dark red covered the front of the shirt. Disgusting! Again? I glanced around to make sure nobody saw it but me then threw it in the washer with the rest. I closed the washing machine and took out my wallet, swearing when I discovered I had forgotten quarters. I'll just exchange my money for quarters, I told myself.
I hesitantly walked up to the office window and tapped the glass. The man inside sat in his swivel chair, listening to his Walkman that was loud enough for me to hear the Hispanic music blaring from it.
"Excuse me? Sir?" I called, continuing to tap the glass. After an eternity, the man noticed my presence and turned off the music.
"Hola, chico. ¿Español o inglés?"
Oh, dear. I winced and scratched my head as I tried to recall any minute of high school Spanish class.
"Hola, uh, señor," I attempted. My brain burned out. "I need quarters, please." The man cocked his head.
"¿Necesitas ayuda? ¿Quieres saber cómo funciona la lavadora?"
I had no idea what this dude was saying. "Uh, no ayuda. Just quarters." How embarrassing.
"No entiendo. ¿La máquina expendedora está rota de nuevo?" The man only spoke gibberish in my ears. People glanced our way and talked among themselves. My ears burning, I scrunched my shoulders.
"Change, please..." I said at a low volume, contemplating leaving at this point. The man finally got it.
"You want change?"
I nodded vigorously and lifted my hand full of crumpled bills. That action also rendered itself embarrassing.
"Why didn't you just say that?" The man reached through an opening in the window, took my money, then exchanged it for quarters.
"Gracias," I used the last ounce of Spanish knowledge I had in my brain.
"You are welcome. Buenas tardes, chico!" The man went back to listening to his music while I started back to the washing machine.
On my way back, I bumped into another stranger. The quarters I just got flew out of my hand and clinked against the floor, rolling under other washers.
"Sorry," I muttered involuntarily and knelt to pick up the coins, feeling my ears redden again.
"No, it's my fault," the older man said, crouching. "Here, let me help you." He picked up some coins, then stood and handed them to me.
"Thank you," I said. The old man waved his hand.
"No problem."
His eyes became slits as he stared me up and down.
"Say," he declared, wagging a finger, "don't I know you?" I eyed the man; didn't recognize him one bit. He had white hair and wore a leather jacket over his button-up shirt. Trying to be hip with the kids, I see.
"Probably not, sir," I replied. "I'm a nobody, really." Just another spunky fresh-outta-highschool hotshot. I forgot about my many neighbours who claimed to know me. The longer the man stared, the more his smile shrank.
"Yeah... I do know you." He chuckled to himself. "Michael Afton. Very polite for his age. But refuses to go to college." I drew my arms in, feeling exposed. How does he...
"How do you know that?"
He didn't hear me; only continued to describe my character. "Always got something in his mouth, whether it's chewing gum or a girl's tongue." He snickered while my tongue flicked the gum in my mouth to one side where it couldn't be visible when I spoke.
"Doesn't go to church anymore. Had an awful accident a few years back..."
"What was that-" I started but he punched my arm, effectively silencing me. What accident?
"Come to my church sometime," he said. He leaned in close and I tried not to crinkle my nose at his spinach breath. "Bring your father. He needs it more than you." He gave me another punch, then walked off, calling, "Have a good day. And be careful tonight."
I frowned, rubbing my now-sore arm.
I have more ties to this tiny town than I thought. Why do I keep forgetting that? He said something about me having an accident a few years back. What did he mean by that? Maybe he was talking about someone else- no, he got everything right about me.
These thoughts ran through my head as I drove home with fresh- well, maybe a little damp, but who cares- laundry. I wanted to find the man and ask him questions, but I decided it'd be better to ask the one who'd know more than anyone else.
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"Father? I'm home. With your laundry."
I set down the basket on the coffee table. I wonder if he'll care that I didn't fold it this time. "Father?" I searched the house for the old man, to no avail. Must be working again. I'll wait for him to return. As usual.
The landline phone in the hallway rang.
"Afton residence," I stated plainly when I picked it up.
"Hello, stupid!" The loud and chirpy voice of my best friend bled into my ears.
"Hi, Mabel," I couldn't stop a giggle. Someone's excited today.
"So, today I was reading the paper and- I don't normally do that, but today I did- I took it from my dad- I found out there's this festival thingie for celebrating the end of summer," she rattled on.
Festival, huh?
"Hey, that sounds fun," I said, twirling my finger in the phone cord, "when does it start?" I heard her take a breath before replying.
"It started today, but it doesn't end 'til Friday. I was hoping you could join me this Thursday? There's fireworks, it said. I really like fireworks. So, will you?"
I couldn't imagine saying no to her. Most of the time, I never did.
"Of course I will!"
"Great! Thank you, Mikey!"
If we weren't on the phone, she would have hugged me so hard that my eyeballs would pop out. Ew, why did I imagine that?
"Oh, by the way, how was the first day of your new job?"
I shrugged, realising afterwards that she did not see it. "It was cool, I guess. Saw some robots. Didn't get to fix any though."
"Maybe today you will."
"Yeah."
Mabel paused. "Anyway, I'll let you go. Bye, stupid! Please be careful! See you Thursday!"
"Goodbye, Mabel," I said before hanging up the phone. I fist-pumped the air, excitement stirring in my extremities. Yes! Something else to do other than cry and absorb fictional media!
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The elevator began its descent into the underground facility. I kept running my thumb over the metal name badge attached to my uniform, smirking with pride. The badge read, Eggs Benedict. I didn't care about the name so much as having a badge. It felt cool. A vibration on my hand brought my attention down to Hand-Unit.
"Hello, Handy," I greeted, then immediately felt uncool calling him that. Ugh.
"Hello, Mr Benedict. Welcome back for another night of intellectual stimulation, pivotal career choices and self-reflection on past mistakes."
"Uh, okay." I don't know what that means.
"We're committed to creating a unique and fulfilling work experience. One part of that commitment is to ensure that you don't get tired of the voice that you're hearing right now."
The yellow tablet snapped in front of me.
"Using the keypad below, please select a new companion voice. For male, press one. For female, press two. For text-only, press three. For other options, press four."
"Female," I said, then frowned as I realised there weren't any numbers on the keypad. I tried to spell it out, but, yet again, the keypad glitched out. "Broken again."
"It seems that you had some trouble with the keypad. I see what you were trying to type, and I will auto-correct it for you."
I ran my hands through my recently-gelled hair. Oh no...
"Thank you for choosing: Angsty Teen."
"Angsty t- what?"
Hand-Unit remained silent for the rest of the ride. When the elevator came to a stop, a different voice spoke in a bored, dragged-out tone, "The elevator stopped. You know the routine. You can get out now or... whatever. Stay here if you want."
I scowled. "No, I'll be getting out. The sooner I get this done, the sooner I can go home." I'd forgotten why I was really there.
"Huh. Okay," I heard Angsty Teen mutter. I crawled through the vent to the Control Module.
"So funny story," Angsty Teen started, "a dead body was found in this vent once." My stomach lurched.
"What the-"
"Okay... so not that funny. But it's a story! Wanna hear it?"
"No!" I answered promptly, now aware of my loud breathing.
"Alright, geez."
He was probably joking, I reassured myself.
"Ok, let's start with your nightly chores," he said when I made it to the Control Module. "You should check on Ballora and make sure she's on her stage but... whatever." I rolled my eyes and turned on the light. The ballerina was gone. How predictable.
"Huh. I guess Ballora has better things to do. Let's zap 'er! That should be fun!"
I pressed the controlled shock button, though hesitant to do so. After the crackling ceased, I checked the light. Ballora was nowhere to be seen.
"Hey, uh, Angsty Guy? Should I zap her again?" I asked. The glove began to vibrate as a loud garbling noise spilt out of the speakers. I covered my ears, suddenly feeling nauseous.
"What is that?!" I shouted, clutching my head and trying to not make a floor pizza. Then the noise stopped. Angsty Teen spoke again as if nothing happened.
"Let's check on Funtime Foxy, make sure he's ready for showtime tomorrow."
"But what about-" I stopped my protest and did what I was told after being met with silence. The light didn't turn on. "Hey, it-"
"GREAT. GREAT. GREAT." Angsty's voice rang low and glitchy in my ears. I slapped the glove, ignoring a rising feeling that I'd be all alone if the thing was broken.
"C'mon, work, dammit!"
"There seems to have been a problem with the voice synthesizer. Default settings have been restored." My body relaxed when I heard Handy's voice again. "Please proceed through the vent ahead of you to Circus Baby's Auditorium."
"Okay."
Circus Control seemed colder than usual. I shivered, the black longsleeve underneath my uniform not doing much against the temperature.
"Circus Baby had a busy day today! Let's check the light and make sure she's in proper working order."
I tapped the light button, expecting the light to fail again. It did.
"Oh Circus Baby, we aren't here to play hide and seek. Let's encourage Baby to come out of hiding with a controlled shock."
"Encourage," I repeated dryly. I pressed the shock button but it refused to budge. "Huh?"
"Let's try another controlled shock."
"Dude, it doesn't work," I said, trying the button again. Why does everything keep breaking in here?
"There seems to be a power malfunction that is affecting our ability to properly motivate Baby."
"Yeah, no kidding," I muttered.
"Please stand by while I reboot the system. I will be offline momentarily during this process. Various other systems may be offline as well, such as security doors, vent locks, and oxygen. Commencing system restart."
"Wait!" I said, louder than I meant to. Every light cut off, letting the darkness swallow me whole.
No oxygen? I already felt lightheaded.
"Hand-Unit?" I called, my voice a whimper. "Hello? Handy?"
A new voice, soft and feminine, echoed through the room, "I don't recognize you. You are new. I remember this... scenario, however. It's a strange thing to want to do- to come here."
I didn't say a word; only squinted through the darkness to try and find who was speaking.
"I'm curious what events would lead a person to want to spend their nights in a place like this... willingly. Maybe curiosity... maybe ignorance."
Ignorance? Of what? How cold it is down here?
"There is a space under the desk. Someone before you crafted it into a hiding place and it worked for him. I recommend that you hurry though. You will be safe there."
I realised how exposed I was and shrank.
"Wait, what's going on? Who are you? Are you Circus Baby?"
I could've sworn the lady sighed.
"Just try not to make eye contact. It will be over soon. They will lose interest."
"Who?"
The lady didn't say another word. I stomped my foot and groaned, "Dammit..." I crouched and peered under the desk to find what she was talking about. There was a tiny space underneath; it had a door made from a thin and holey sheet of metal. I squished my body into the space and slid the makeshift door closed. The space heated up quick. What am I even hiding from? I felt stupid hiding from nothing, but my brain wouldn't let me move. Crammed under my chest, my legs were begging to be stretched out. Before I could open the door, I heard something- scurrying. Oh no, no- What's that? A bug?! I held my breath and waited.
"Someone is inside," a tiny voice whispered from behind the makeshift door. It tapped the metal, making me flinch and bump my head on the bottom of the table. What th-
"Hello in there..." another tiny voice whispered. I fumbled with the device on my hand and accidentally blinded myself. Found the flashlight. I aimed it through the tiny holes, hoping I'd find nothing there. A plastic blue eye peered back at me. I covered my mouth before I screamed and slammed a finger on the off button to turn off the flashlight.
It's a robot... I realised. One of the baby ones. That didn't make me feel any less frightened.
"Is it the same person?" asked the robot thing outside my hiding spot. There's more than one. I gulped. They tapped the door again, this time several times.
"Knock knock..."
I squeezed my eyes shut. Go away, please! I felt the warmth drain from my body when I heard the metal door slide open slowly.
"No!" I mouthed and grasped the door, pulling it shut. The sharp edges of the metal dug into my palms but I ignored the pain. I watched my knuckles turn white. Please, stop pulling! These babies are strong! Soon, the resistance lifted and I slammed it shut.
"Oh, thank God!" I breathed.
"We will find a way inside," threatened one of the robo-babies. They tapped the door again. I decided to ease my fear with a little faux confidence.
"I know I'm irresistible, but you are not getting this!" My remark, though quiet, boosted my morale. I heard a growl, followed by the sliding of the door opening again. I pulled it shut, this time with more force.
"Ha!" I taunted, then wondered if I should be taunting a robot. What would they do if they caught me? After a pause, one of the robots gasped.
"She's watching us."
"We have to leave now."
I heard a tiny tap.
"We'll see you again soon!"
The room fell silent, and after waiting for a minute, I dared to open the door. I allowed my lungs to stretch with a long, deep breath.
"When your guide comes back online, he is going to tell you that he was unsuccessful, that you must restart the system manually," the disembodied woman interrupted the silence. "He will then tell you to crawl through Ballora Gallery as fast as you can to reach the Breaker Room. If you follow his instructions, you will die." It took me a minute to process what she was saying.
Restart manually? Crawl through? Ballora Gallery? Die?!
"Uh, excuse me-"
"Ballora will not return to her stage anymore. She will catch you. The power will be restored shortly. When you crawl through Ballora Gallery, go slowly. She cannot see you and can only listen for your movement. When you hear her music become louder, she is growing near, listening for you. Wait and be still."
"Okay," I mumbled. This isn't what I signed up for. I scrambled out of my hiding spot and brushed dust off my jeans. "Okay."
More crawling? That shouldn't be too difficult. I just have to go slow.