Corporate Ladder

Wednesday 4th March 2015, 01:22 AM

The problem with the ventilation wasn't as much the maintenance; after all, keeping an eye on the monitor every once in a while was never going to be an issue. But it was clear that there was something else interfering with it, something that made it an issue and there was never a pattern to warn him.

But as long as he continued that maintenance, and as long as he was prepared for the occasional fluctuation, Mike was hoping he wouldn't be blindsided by it like he had been the last couple of nights.

It was his third shift now. During the day, Michelle and Jack would work their own shifts and from what Mike had gathered, they weren't in any danger. They had apparently spotted the broken, ancient ruin that was once an animatronic, but it was kept in a side room just near the entrance.

When he'd warned them to stay away from it, telling them that it seemed active enough to be moving around, Jack had seemed concerned. As he had said, something of that condition shouldn't be able to stand, much less walk.

Yet there it was, once more staring at him through the lens of the camera.

There was something frightening, yet intriguing about watching this thing wander about. When Mike had met the animatronics he once called friends, they had been around the block far longer than he'd been. They knew the pizzeria like the back of their oversized hands, so each and every single move they made was a planned decision.

But this robot—this spring-locked suit, as his father had called it in his message that night—seemed like it was disorientated. Confused.

"Uh, hello, hello!" His father had said at the beginning of the call, "Uhm, for today's lesson we will be continuing our training on proper suit handling technique."

"When using an animatronic as a suit, please ensure that the animatronic parts are tightly compressed and fastened, by the spring lock located around inside of the suit. It may take a few moments, position your head and torso between these parts, in a manner where you can move and speak."

"Try not to nudge or press against any of the spring locks inside the suit. Do not touch the spring lock at any time. Do not breathe on a spring lock, as moisture may loosen them, and cause them to break loose."

"In case that the spring lock comes loose while wearing the suit, please try to manoeuvre away from populated areas, before bleeding out, as to not ruin the customer experience."

Mike had almost smiled at the dry, drab manner his father had said that. It may have freaked him out twenty years ago, but he supposed his could see the humour in the dark jokes. After all, he had worked there only a short amount of time with death hanging over him. His dad had worked there for years.

"As always, if there is ever an emergency, please go to the designated safe room. Every location is filled with one extra room, that is not included in the digital map layout programmed for the animatronics or security systems. This room is hidden to customers and animatronics, and is always off camera."

That had caused Mike to frown. He'd never heard of, nor been told of, these safe rooms. Back at Freddy's, the manager's office had been omitted from the security map, but that couldn't really be called a safe room, surely?

And I doubt the manager would be okay with an employee bleeding to death on his carpet being standard procedure, Mike had mused. Other than that, the only other room he could think of that had not appeared on any map…was that small cubby hall back at the pizzeria built during the eighties.

The same one that the killer, the Purple Man, had stashed his victims after kidnapping them.

"As always, remember to smile, as you are the face of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza."

There was more to this. Mike was sure about it. He couldn't quite figure it out now, but it was important. No matter which way he looked at it, this spring-lock animatronic was important.

Every time he monitored the animatronic, there was always something peculiar. How it seemed to be searching for something, carefully examining its surroundings. How it could so easily switch between a slow, careful movement to such an automatic response, like how it would always look towards the speaker whenever Mike played a sound.

It was undeniable; there was thought behind those glassy eyes. It wasn't a mindless drone. It wasn't just meandering from room to room. It was looking for something.

It was alive.

The thought excited Mike almost as much as it frightened him. After all these years, was there really another one just like his friends? An animatronic which was full of life? One which could think?

But if that was the case…how did it end up like this? Mike's mind went back to the message his father had left. Had that dark joke about an entertainer bleeding to death actually come to pass at some point, and Mike was looking at what was left of some poor employee?

He couldn't say. Not for sure. But no matter how much he tried, his mind kept coming back to that strange animatronic.

Glancing at the loudspeaker, he had noticed at some point that it had a microphone. He reached out for it, but hesitated. Was it really a smart decision to do this? As far as he was aware, the animatronic did not know he was there.

But if this spring Bonnie-looking animatronic was truly the key he had been looking for, could he really afford to pass it up?

He grabbed the microphone. Carefully, he raised it to his face and spoke carefully, hearing his voice over the speakers.

"Hello?" He said, "Can you hear me?"

The animatronic froze, staring at the cameras. At the speakers.

"I've been watching you. You…do you know where you are?"

Still staring at the cameras with those milky white eyes, the animatronic at the very least seemed to hear him. But could it understand him?

Biting his lip, Mike tried to think of what to say. "I do not know if you can understand me, but I'm not going to harm you. I know what you are. I can help you. I'm in this building with you—"

He almost jumped in his seat when he saw the animatronic dart out of the camera's view. Frantically clicking the cameras, he found where it was. Slow for all this time, it seemed intent on getting somewhere as quickly as it could.

And Mike had a bad feeling he knew where that was.

"Stop." Mike croaked through the microphone, then louder, "Stop. Stop! If you understand me, stop where you are!"

But it didn't. It moved to the next room, and Mike found himself getting desperate. Had he just doomed himself.

No, he thought to himself, there's something I can do.

He pressed the button on the speaker from the room the animatronic had just come from and the laugh of Balloon Boy played over the speaker. The animatronic stopped, turned, and went back the way he came. Stopping just in front of the camera, it seemed to forget what it was doing.

The way it had moved, the focus and determination that had sparked within the broken form of this relic…it had scared Mike. As much as he tried to deny it, it had scared him. It was like it had been a predator hearing the call of a nearby elk. Like by speaking over that speaker had just shot a flare out, announcing the arrival of prey.

Whatever this thing was, whether it was alive or not, it wasn't like the others. It was like it was feral.

And that thought scared Mike more than he ever thought he could be.

The next hour was far more troubling for Mike than it had been the last two nights. In spite of all the psychological threats, the one thing that really hadn't proven to be a danger was the animatronic. Now, however, it had smelled blood.

It also proved to be smarter than Mike had been anticipating. Much like Freddy had employed twenty years ago, this spring-lock animatronic had a tendency to hide. To try and blend in with its surroundings, over cheap scare tactics.

At some point, Mike had lost track of the animatronic. Desperately trying to find it, he eventually spotted something on CAM 02. It had been just behind the large Bonnie scarecrow, almost hidden in the shadows.

This thing was hunting him and it was making very careful decisions in its journey to his office. Every step was planned. The moment it had been through an area, it seemed to understand whether or not to travel through there. The shorter journey through the building meant it could be spotted, so it seemed to alternate.

The only question now on Mike's mind was what its motive was. He knew it meant ill for him, but was it out of ignorance, like how the Fazgang had been manipulated into hunting him and the other night guards? Or was it like Golden Freddy, who knew what he was doing and was seeking either revenge of just simple bloodlust?

It doesn't matter much either way, Mike decided. The Fazgang, the Fazcrew, the Marionette, Golden Freddy…whatever their motive was for doing what they were doing, it only ever meant one thing: Whoever their target was had to fight for their survival.

It seemed that old habits were indeed long from dying.

That was when he spotted the thing in the hallway. The head of a fox. The sound it made suddenly pierced his ears. A loud, siren-like noise which must have been audible throughout the whole pizzeria.

Almost screaming in pain as he jabbed at the ventilation button, Mike tried to regain his breath. After a few moments, the screeching had stopped. Blinking, he tried to gather his thoughts. That hadn't been Foxy. The way it had hung there, staring at him…

Had it been Mangle?

He shook his head. He was bound to see some more old friends as the nights passed. The thing he needed to focus on was the spring-lock—

It was gone.

Mike had to stare at the camera lens for a moment before rushing through the other cameras, trying to catch a sight of the rotting animatronic. Within a moment, it had simply vanished like a ghost in the night.

When the nearest cameras came up fruitless, Mike was stunned. Had it managed to get all the way to his office within mere seconds? He looked up towards the glass window, and to the door to his left, almost sure he would see it there, staring at him.

It wasn't there. That almost made it worse. Where had it gone? It had been slowly moving around the far back of the building only two minutes ago. It couldn't have so simply picked up the speed after hours of moving so slowly.

But where else could it have gone—

Thunk.

Eyes widening at the sound, Mike looked around the room. Where had that come from? Was it outside his office, waiting for him to drop his guard?

Thunk.

No…it was too muffled. Too far away to be close to him. Almost like it was an echo, rebounding off the walls. But the building seemed insulated at the very least.

Thunk.

Then a thought came to him. Almost a subtle, but jarring reminder. Twenty years ago, he had visited that old pizzeria made in the mid-eighties to replace Freddy's. The night guard who had worked there, Jeremy—who had been falsely accused of being the culprit behind the missing children's incident—had been forced to stave off wave and wave of attacks by not only the animatronics whom Mike would later call friends, but their remodels, as well.

And like with Mike now, Jeremy lacked doors. Instead, there had been two large vents with lights on either side. Mike had wondered what they were for, but theorised that they had been used by the animatronics as access points.

Thunk.

"It's in the walls." Mike spoke to himself under laboured breath, before his eyes darted to the large vent covering to his right, "It's in the god damn walls!"

He flicked open his cameras again and chose the camera within the vent furthest away from him, but which led to the hallway just outside his office. He chose CAM 12, and came face-to-face with the animatronic, crawling on its belly. Just in front of where it was heading was a symbol on the map.

Mike knew that whatever it was for, it wasn't like he had many options. Clicking furiously at the button, he heard a mechanical whirring in the distance. When he looked at the camera again, the old animatronic was staring at him through the lens.

Blinking tiredly, Mike looked at the clock and was dismayed to see that it wasn't even 3am. Suddenly missing the quietness of the previous two nights, Mike leant forward and got ready for another three hours of mayhem.

Wednesday 4th March 2015, 19:57 PM

By the time they had gotten back to the apartment that they called their headquarters, Mike had been asleep. Seeing the worry in Ella's eyes when she'd gone to check on him, Caine had gone to check with her. Choosing a quiet side room towards the back that Caine would have guessed was supposed to be a storage closet, Mike had his back to them.

Whether he was really asleep or simply zoned out and blanking them was something Caine didn't know and preferred not to risk waking him to work out.

"How has he been?" Mike quietly asked Ella, who was leaning against the doorframe.

She shook her head. "He's…not said anything. Anything about what's going on at night…but I've seen that thing with my own eyes. Staying around at night alone with that…"

Caine was interested. "He mentioned that Wood found something. An animatronic. You've seen it?"

"Yep." She crinkled up her nose, "Looks like a car wreck. All yellow and dropping to pieces. Stinks, too. Didn't go near it."

"That's probably wise." Caine nodded solemnly, "We don't know enough about it. If it's anything like the others…"

Glancing at him, Ella raised her eyebrow. "You saw the others? Mike's mentioned them a few times."

"Hmm…What did he say about them?"

Ella seemed to have a bad taste in her mouth when she replied, "That they started off bad, but they became friends. They had trouble with him, you…but eventually got off on the right foot."

Caine had been expecting that answer. Thinking for a moment, he carefully pulled off his suit jacket and pulled up his shirt sleeve. As he did, the scarred skin on his arm, a pale-white criss-cross set of lines became visible. Though Ella remained stone-faced, he could see her tense up as she saw the scars.

"They did this to me." Caine explained, still remembering his own screams that night, "Twenty years ago. They were taken control of by…this thing. It was like them, but also so different. Me and my associate, Carl, had broken in to Freddy's to retrieve some evidence on Fazbear Entertainment. We were ambushed. Us, and the employees inside. A janitor, about sixty years old, and a day guard who was still a kid."

"They dragged us into the backstage room. I was still asleep at the time, but I woke up when they were ending it. They killed the janitor. Right in front of us. Stuffed him into one of those suits…and they were going to kill the guard right after."

Ella had fallen silent as he explained. Her eyes still hadn't left the scars. "Those scars…did they come from…?"

Caine nodded. He still despised the decision he made that night. "I got their attention. Managed to spare the day guard for a few extra moments. I had a way to get help, but I could only do it by getting hurt. The moment I did, a signal would be sent to an emergency response team to save us. So…they started to stuff me next. I managed to anger them enough for them to choose to slowly kill me."

"I honestly thought I was going to die there. But…thanks to Carl, and the team sent to retrieve us, I survived. But I never lost those scars. And my arm still acts up sometimes."

Digesting this, Ella seemed to choose her words carefully. "So…they're monsters. Or they were monsters."

Closing his eyes, Caine sighed. "No. No, they weren't. That was something I realised too late. They themselves were victims. They never set out to hurt people. They were used to hurt people by someone who couldn't let go of their hate. But even that person…they were a victim themselves."

"So then who's to blame?" Ella insisted, almost angry, but speaking in a hushed tone, "How many people did they kill? You and Mike, you were the lucky ones. What would you say to the families of the people who were killed? Someone has to pay for this."

Glancing at her, Caine couldn't help but wonder. He nodded to her, understanding, "Fazbear Entertainment. They're the ones who must pay for it. That's why we're here. To make sure they suffer. As for who's to blame…there's one person who comes to mind. But I'm not sure what happened to them. I'm not even sure they're still alive."

"You mean the killer, right." Ella asked quietly, "The guy behind the slaughter? The Missing Children's Incident?"

"The Purple Man." Caine agreed, "He's a ghost. I've not been able to find a shred of information on the man since I began this case."

"What do you think happened to him? Where did he go?"

"If he was smart," Caine sighed, "he left the country long ago. Assumed a new identity and moved on with his life. As much as I hate to admit it, we'll probably never find him."

After some time, Caine had left, taking Samantha and Carl with him. As they sat in the car, Carl driving them silently down the side roads, Caine was silent. He could feel her eyes on him, sensing the anger burning in him. She'd always picked up on how he was feeling.

"You're frustrated." She eventually pointed out.

"Hm." He responded.

"We're getting there. You've always told me how slow a process these things are."

"It's not that." He shook his head, eyes closed, "I thought we were done with this. It was always them. Them who made this difficult. Just as I thought we were getting somewhere, Fazbear Entertainment were blocking us. They blockaded our orthodox routes, went after potential leads before we could, and when it didn't stop us, they sent Dutch-bloody-Lawson after us."

"They knew enough about us. Had intel on how our operations worked. The Fuego Verde provided it, but there was no way Gregor Henshaw found it himself. Someone provided it to him. Then he passed it to them. Fazbear Entertainment chose Dutch Lawson specifically. They knew about our history."

"They clearly did," Samantha agreed, "yet it didn't work. Remember? You outlasted him. You exposed Fazbear Entertainment, in spite of everything they did to avoid that. You've defeated Dutch before. You can do it again."

"This time is different."

"How so?"

"Because you're here." Caine gritted his teeth. "He's got three people here to target to get to me. I can't keep my eyes on you, Carl, and Mike all at the same time."

"You don't have to." Samantha almost snorted, "I might look the part of a pretty wallflower, but I can handle myself."

Despite himself, Caine almost laughed. "It's not that simple."

"It really is. And if you're so sure that it's a problem, you know what to do."

Carl seemed to agree. "I've got them all on standby the moment they need us. Just say the word."

"We're not calling AESIR into this." Caine insisted.

"That might not be your choice to make, boss."

"We've been over this…"

"Yeah, I know. The thing is, Tom, this stopped being a personal case the moment we found out about Dutch. You know the protocol. We've broken the same rules that you installed. Technically, I should have reported Lawson's arrival the moment we found that report.

Caine was about to point out that they didn't even know if the report was true, but he stopped himself. He remembered the exact phrasing he'd used when they had all agreed to the policy. It didn't matter if it was even a simple suspicion; Class S was what they had referred to regarding someone like Lawson.

Which meant that the entirety of AESIR should have arrived to back them up.

"Okay." Caine slouched slightly, finally giving in, "The moment we are able to confirm that he's back, I'll call it in myself. You're right. I'm not risking putting either of you two in Lawson's crosshairs without backup."

"Good." Carl seemed to relax, "What's our plan until then?"

"The office building." Caine nodded, "We're hitting it tonight. There will be security; that's a definite. We won't have time to do recon, so we'll need to be careful."

"So, the hornet's nest. That's where we're heading?"

"What can I say? Fazbear Entertainment have been a thorn in our sides for the longest time. It's time we stop pulling our punches."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Caine saw Carl smile in the rear view mirror.

It wasn't long after that when they pulled up in the street near the office building. It sat on the corner, almost a block wide. Far away from any other buildings. Despite all of their secrets, Fazbear Entertainment sure did have the tendency to be grandiose.

Choosing the more secluded spot to park, Carl pulled up on the street on the far side of the building, away from prying eyes. Turning the engine off, he kept his hands on the wheel, ready to turn the car back on in the case of a sudden escape. "So…what's the plan."

"How long do you think it'll take you to crack the security?" Caine pondered.

"Not too long. But I doubt I'll be able to keep it disable for any more than a minute at a time. And if I overdo it, they'll catch on."

Caine nodded, then looked at Samantha. He was about to suggest she stay in the car whilst she handled her end, but something stopped him. Perhaps the idea of leaving her isolated from him and Carl.

"Stay close to us," Caine tilted his head slightly, "alright?"

He knew she sensed his worry and didn't question him.

"Okay." Caine took a long inhale, then nodded. "Let's go."

They got out of the car and quickly crossed the street, reaching the edge of the building. They reached the back door and Carl took out his tablet and started to flick through things. He seemed almost intrigued, then within moments nodded. "Okay. We're in."

"That was quick." Caine acknowledged.

"Not as difficult to crack as I thought it would be. Seems light. And I've got access to the cameras."

"Sam," Caine murmured, "you've got your tablet with you, right?"

"Yep." She raised her eyebrow.

"Carl, give her access to the cameras. Having eyes in the skies will be useful and I need you ready and able to handle any more of the security in the meantime. Get the door when you're ready."

After making sure that Samantha had access to the cameras, Carl quickly moved on to the door. Within moments, the mechanical lock clicked and he exchanged a nod to Caine. Though he seemed calm, Caine could sense the confusion in Carl's eyes.

This seems too easy, Caine agreed.

They opened the door and stepped in to the dark hallways. They crouched down and looked through the first hallway. As they walked through, Caine made a point to check every room for anyone within. They came up empty. They reached a staircase and Caine heard the whir of the camera at the top.

"There's one up there." Samantha confirmed. Within moments, Carl had gotten in to the system and disabled, a light static noise emanating from Samantha's tablet. Quickly going up the staircase, they reached the first floor of the building.

As they continued onward, Caine knew something was wrong. It was late at night, sure, but there wasn't a sign of anyone. The fact dawned on him that there had been at least seven cars out in the parking lot. Though it didn't necessarily mean that the drivers worked there, the possibility that they weren't was unlikely.

Upon reaching the third floor, they saw a door opened at the far back with dim lights flashing out into the hallway. Quietly, they approached the room. Taking out his hand mirror, a steel-framed small thing the size of his palm, Caine angled it slightly and looked within.

There was nobody there. The lights came from the screens inside. Even before Carl muttered it, Caine knew what he was looking at was the security office.

"Is this the only one?" Caine quietly asked.

"As far as I can tell." Carl confirmed, "Either way, the cameras won't be an issue, now. I can just cycle old footage from here."

"Okay. Get it done." Caine looked around the room. Though the lack of security should have pleased him, all it did was unsettle him. There was something wrong. He was sure of it, now. But what exactly could have happened here? Where was everyone?

Once Carl had confirmed that the security footage was being looped, Caine knew they needed to press on. Leaving the security office, they continued down the hallway and reached a circular split which seemed to circle each other. At the end was a doorway. A translucent glassed door, which seemed to reflect light coming from the inside.

"Looks like the meeting room." Carl pointed out.

Caine nodded. After confirming that the hallways along their sides were clear, he glanced at Samantha. "Is there a camera in there?"

She shook her head. "But the light's on. There must be someone inside."

He knew she was right. But they hadn't come this far just to walk away. "The two of you, stay here. I'm going to see if there's a way to check what's inside there."

Leaving them, Caine fell into a crouch. He moved quickly, staying along the wall until he reached the end of the hallway. Towards the end was a window. Closing in on it, he lifted the window open and looked outside. There was an overhang, easily large enough for him to stand on. He climbed out the window, onto the overhang, and carefully walked alongside it.

He didn't need to look down to know that he was four stories up. Though he was in an overshadowed spot where there wouldn't have been a much of a chance to spot him, he decided not to take the risk of some passer-by seeing him. He continued along the edge until he reached the next window. This one was much larger than the one he just climbed out of.

Taking out his mirror once more, he angled it and looked through it. The moment he saw what was inside, his face grew to stone. Putting the mirror away, he made his way back to the window and climbed through.

Within moments, he strided back to the door, where both Samantha and Carl remained. They both looked at him, expecting an explanation, but he didn't give one. Taking out his pistol, he gestured for them to take cover on the other side of the door.

Once they were, without a moment of hesitation, he back kicked the door and it snapped open. The light from within the room flashed out of the hallway. Caine fell in first, pistol raised and checked the room for anyone hiding, including the side rooms where equipment was stored away. When he came back out, he had to ignore the pale looks on both Carl's and Samantha's faces.

There were about twelve seats near the large conference table in the middle of them room. Ten of them were occupied. They wore suits and slacks, black and grey and blue. They were likely the businessmen and women of Fazbear Entertainment, executives and other administrative. The others, those who didn't wear suits but rather overalls or security uniforms didn't have seats.

Caine counted at least fifteen bodies. Ten executives, two janitors, and three security guards. All of them laid in their positions bleeding, bullet holes in their bodies and heads. Each shot had hit their target.

"I…" Carl mumbled, his hand holding the cross he usually had tucked under his shirt, "…this…"

Samantha didn't say anything. Her face was a pale white. It dawned on Caine that she hadn't seen such a crime scene in a long, long while.

Closing his eyes, Caine knew what this meant. Whether or not they had been trying to hire him or they knew he was coming for them, it didn't matter. Dutch Lawson had beaten them to it. Perhaps he'd been expecting them, and left these fifteen bodies here as a present.

But the first question that flashed in Caine's mind was a simple one.

Then who hired him to do this, he sighed, his eyes on the ground, and who else is on his list?

So I wrote most of this just today. That was...an interesting writing session. I'm actually quite happy with how this one turned out.

TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3: The trauma they've all gone through is something which can never be made right. The scars, physical and mental, will never fade. And it would seem that all that is on their path is more trauma. Massively appreciate the kind words, and overall I would definitely agree with you that the chapter length seems right. Unless a chapter warrants being shorter, I'll probably keep it as is.