Hello y'all, this next bit is for those who are coming from my other fic.
Welcome to my new fnaf fic! This one is a bit different from my main one, though the main character from that one, (Leo) will also be in this fic, however I've changed a few things about his character, and backstory that will be taking place here.
It's hard to explain, but this one is almost like…a rewrite, or a redo…or even a au of the other fic, there will be characters missing, and other characters replaced. I've had thoughts about writing this one for awhile now, because frankly with the inclusion of Acid/Andrew in the other fic…well, it kinda changed quite a bit of lore. So…this fic will be an attempt to stick a bit closer to canon then the other one.
Up front information about this one. Michael and Leo are the main characters…and there are no soul capturing chips.
And without spoiling things, that's all I can say.
As for newcomers, I hope you enjoy the story! As a heads up, swears will be censored, sorry if it bothers you, but I hope you can enjoy the story all the same.
Thxs. :)
Chapter One
Sister Location | Hometown
Michael had always been forbidden from venturing into the basement, and despite being an adult now, with the last memory of his father two years old…
The Afton felt small all over again.
The stairs down to it were dark, shadows cris-crossed ominously. Only the hallway light from where he stood gave indication that there was even a door at the bottom of this seemingly deadly pit.
"…what are you even doing here Mike…" he more whined then asked, his grip on the wall was so tight he was sure he'd crack the drywall.
But it didn't give under his fingers, just like how his legs refused to give unto his will to descend the stairs.
The letter he had received telling him to come here had been…vague at best. With no return address and no proof that its claims were even true.
His sister died eight years ago.
Or…more accurately, disappeared.
Michael closed his eyes head drooping slightly at that thought. It was stupid of him to still cling to that.
Eight years was a very long time to be missing after all.
Elizabeth was most certainly dead.
He had already assumed that his father, whom was only two years missing at this point was also dead.
So why did he come here?
When he opened his eyes he was met with the sight of the dark staircase once more, and he realized he didn't really have to ask. He already knew the answer to his question.
Because he was alone.
With the disappearance of his father, his last bit of family slipped through his his fingers.
The time spent with his father these past five years hadn't been particularly pleasant, but it had been some kind of familial connection. One that he now lacked.
So maybe, that's why he was here, clinging to that still faint hope that his sister was somehow…miraculously still around. She would be what…thirteen now?
He didn't want to hope, he didn't want to entertain the thought that she was still alive, and yet it was there, creeping into his thoughts like a growing weed. Making him wonder.
Making him come here.
And…he had come all the way here. Used what meager money he had gotten from the job he had managed to acquire for the bus ticket.
He had already committed.
So he might as well take the final step.
Descending the stairs felt more ominous than staring down at them, he felt like in a strange way, Michael was sealing his fate. Writing up a will with every footfall.
And then he reached the door.
Having hesitated so much at the top of the stairs, he decidedly turned the door knob and went straight in.
The sight was both…expected…and not.
It was cold, there was a brisk air that spoke to its emptiness and isolation. There were computers off to the side. Robotic pieces scattered about. Anywhere he looked there was some kind of blueprint or design. A bunch of different animatronic designs. Some he'd never seen before and others he was sure had never made it past the concept phase.
As Michael pressed forward, he couldn't help but wince at the sound of his footsteps echoing. The entire basement was made of stone. All the tables were metal, and there were a few lights about. Michael was surprised that they were still functioning. The electric bill must be a nightmare at this point.
At the thought of that Michael winced, did that mean he inherited that too?
"***king hell dad, you couldn't just turn off the ***king lights." He huffed before wincing at the echo and stepping further inside. Only for the sound of crunching paper to make him stop.
Lifting up his foot he cast his eyes down to the ground only to find what looked to be a piece of paper ripped out of a notebook.
When he picked it up and turned it over, he recognized the handwriting immediately.
It was his dad's.
His father always had a tendency to loop anything he did daily could in a shoddy attempt to make himself look more professional and sophisticated. So when Michael saw the rollercoaster of a note, he knew who it belonged to immediately.
And although he could see who wrote it, making out what was actually said on the note was something else entirely.
Michael squinted and tilted it in the light, finally catching an angle in which he could make out some semblance of words.
Check on funtimes this weekend. Entrance code 7865
It was short and to the point, clearly written as some kind of reminder that Michael had a feeling his father never accomplished.
But Funtimes?
Where had he heard that name before?
With a frown he looked over the note before pocketing it and making his way further into the workshop. He went up to a table with what looked to be some kind of animatronic hand on it.
Picking up the hand he turned it over with a frown, "wonder who you belong to." He murmured, glancing around as his voice gave a soft echo in the cement room.
With a sigh he set the hand down and spun on his heel looking about the room. Nothing in here gave indication of what happened to Elizabeth. He couldn't help but wonder if the letter he was sent was some sick prank. Though he couldn't figure out the motivation for someone doing that.
"This is a waste of time." He mumbled before casting his eyes up and around once more.
That's when he noticed some pictures pinned up on a tack board.
With a frown he made his way over, having to grab a lamp to shine upon the images. What he saw however made him stop short before reaching the board.
It was animatronics. Ones he only vaguely remembered from roughly eight years ago.
There were five of them, two foxes, a ballerina, a more machine looking Freddy with his handpuppet, who Michael supposed counted as number six. And finally, the pig tailed monstrosity herself.
Circus Baby.
"—k…" he muttered, before stepping slightly closer to inspect the blueprints. He couldn't see what they actually looked like, but the blueprints gave a good enough description for him to get a general idea.
Lifting the lamp and bringing it closer, he was able to start making out some words…only for the sight of a white piece of paper to catch his attention.
Angling the light toward it, Michael couldn't help but freeze and swallow.
It was a messy drawing, clearly from someone young…
"Lizzie…" he mumbled.
It was of Circus Baby. Obviously different from what the final design ended up being, but it was what could probably be called concept art.
It was what inspired their father to make the animatronic in the first place.
The whole situation with this batch was strange unto itself. The location hadn't even been open for a day before it closed down and never opened up again because of an alleged gas leak.
But…that was a bit suspicious, especially considering Elizabeth disappeared on the same day.
Did the animatronics have something to do with her disappearance? He…wasn't sure.
But…it was odd.
However, Michael realized he wasn't really going to be finding anything else here that would be useful. So, with a sigh he removed the picture from the wall, gazed at it, before folding it up gently and putting it into his pocket.
Aside from the picture and note, there really wasn't anything else here of use.
He spent half his paycheck for a bus ticket here only for it to be an utterly pointless trip.
Fantastic.
Making his way back up the stairs Michael did his best to get over the pit of disappointment in his stomach.
He should've known this was how it would end regardless.
Clearing the final steps, he stopped and took a look around. Something he had avoided doing earlier. It was…weird looking at his house.
It was frozen in time. Looking exactly the same as he left it two years ago. There were some rather…gross waffles out on the counter. Where bugs and all sorts of other critters had been munching on until it was no longer edible for even them.
It was a house frozen in time.
Michael sighed and spared another glance around before shaking his head. No. He shouldn't linger. The longer he lingered, the more he would be sent into memories he did not want to revisit.
Sighing, he resolutely turned and left his childhood home…hopefully for the last time.
When Michael arrived at the bus stop he let out a puff of breath, his eyes flickered to the phone booth, should he call in for work? It was already pretty late, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to make the next shift…
Shifting his jaw about he got up and went to the phone.
After slotting in the coin, it took a few tries to get the number right, and he found himself relieved to hear the familiar voice of his boss Samantha.
"This is Plentiful Pizza, how can I help you?" The woman drawled, and he couldn't help but wonder why she was answering the phone, but hey, at least he didn't have to wait for one of his coworkers to find her.
"Hey Ms Rockwell? This is Mike, I just wanted to call to let you know that I won't be able to-"
"Mikey?" She questioned, and before he got the chance to answer she pressed on, "aw ***t, Darrel didn't tell you?"
Michael stilled a bit with a frown, "tell me what?"
There was a sigh from the woman before she shifted in whatever she was sitting in, likely that ratty office chair that was surely fifty years old at this point.
"Look, Mikey, I hate to do this, but management is breathing down my neck." Michael's frown deepened, "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to let you go."
"What? Why? What did I do?" He pressed, gripping the phone tight in his hand.
"It was nothin' you did, it's just…last hired first fired kinda thing. It's nothing personal I promise."
Michael stared at his reflection in the glass of the booth, behind him the bus arrived but he made no move to catch it.
He must've been quiet for too long as Sammantha spoke again, "Mikey? Aw hon, don't be so down in the dumps, I'm sure you'll find a job, probably one that's even better than this dumpster fire."
Michael swallowed and looked down at his shoes, they were old, with stains and patches put in places where the holes had gotten too big to ignore.
"Y…yeah…" he muttered hollowly, but she seemed to accept it.
"Exactly, chin up hon, now I gotta go, good luck." And with that the line cut. Michael listened to the dial tone before putting the phone onto it's holder with a bit more force than what was needed.
***k.
And just when he was starting to look for apartments.
"****it." He hissed before letting his head fall back against the glass. The booth shuddered a bit, but thankfully didn't give.
"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" He groaned out rubbing his face.
With another groan and a sigh, he pushed himself off the wall of the booth and stood up opening the door and stepping out.
Only to stop just short of running into someone. Blinking a few times, Michael found himself staring at a news paper.
"Newspaper? Oi, you want to hear about the latest news? You do don'tcha? It doesn't cost much at all! A mere quarter in fact! Surely that is worth-"
He stopped listening as he ripped the paper from the man's hand, staring down at the front of it with wide eyes.
On the front page was none other than something he recognized from his father's workshop.
Circus Baby.
With shaking hands he withdrew the folded piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it, putting it next to the back and white newspaper image for the sake of comparison, though he already knew.
That was Circus Baby, advertising a job as a robot repairmen for Afton Robotics.
"Hey!" The man suddenly said, snatching back the newspaper, pulling Michael's attention back to him. "You gonna buy it or what?"
Michael blinked out of his stupor and cast his eyes down to the paper again, "t….that job…" he looked up at the man, "where is it?"
What am I doing?
"What?" The man turned and looked at the front page, "oh, that must be that place off Stevenson street." The man shook his head, "another one of those ***kin' animatronic nightmare things. I'm tellin' you man, I dunno how any kid likes those things, they are ugly as hell." He sighed, "now, are you gonna buy something or…" his eyes lifted, only to find Michael gone, "not…"
It had been alarmingly fast to get employed. There were hardly any checks. Just a brief intelligence test and he was set. The man also wanted him to start day of.
If Michael had been smarter, he probably would've avoided this whole thing entirely. But he couldn't help that itch that was telling him he was going to find something important at this old storage facility.
So here he was trekking into the forest to an underground bunker filled with animatronics who hadn't seen the light of day in a very long time.
"Eight years is a long time to be locked away." He mused to himself, gazing at the shoddy directions the manager had given him earlier.
It looked more like a treasure map that a kid would write up on the back of a menu. In fact he'd probably seen some like it, back when all the restaurants were open.
The thought gave him pause, and it was only the soft popping sound of his gum that made him shake his head and press forth.
He couldn't help but wonder why it was so deep into the forest, and the thoughts that came to give him an answer were…unpleasant at best. Morbid at worst.
But he didn't have very long to ponder it, as a large concrete building came into view.
It sat in the middle of the clearing, and to all eyes it would be inconspicuous, like some storage facility buried deep into the forest. There was no identifying logo on the building, nothing to tell Michael that this was in fact the location.
And yet, somehow, he knew.
With a sigh and an adjustment of his backpack, the young Afton made his way over to the steel door. Unsurprisingly it was locked, so he used the key that the manager had given him to open it up. The door hissed when it opened, and the low whine gave an indication of how heavy it was.
From what he could tell…it was pretty heavy, that information made his unease grow.
They really wanted to keep these things inside didn't they?
There was a staircase that greeted him, and at his entrance to the building, the lights, clearly motion activated started flickering on in succession until the whole staircase was lit in a sterile white light.
There was a door at the bottom that said staff only, and so with a breath Michael started making his way down. His footfalls causing echoes to permeate in the enclosed space.
When he reached the staff door, it was surprisingly unlocked, and swung open with a bit more ease than the one behind him.
He was greeted with more white light, and what appeared to be a knockoff of a school locker room.
There were metal lockers lining the walls, a few changing stalls to the side, and benches scattered about the middle.
When his eyes caught the sight of an old looking hoodie and pair of pants, he realized that he wasn't the only one here.
He couldn't help but be slightly relieved by that.
Popping his gum, he went further into the room, trying to locate his locker, the manager said it would be closest to the elevator. Which was parallel to the door he'd just entered.
It didn't take very long to find. And typing in the temporary code. Michael told himself he needed to be sure to change it before he left for the day. But all the same he pulled out the uniform he'd been given and went over to one of the changing stalls.
As he switched into the jumpsuit, he scanned his surroundings a moment, there were a few cautionary signs on the wall, and what looked to be some kind of work log sheet, likely where he would clock in.
It might even tell him who else was here.
So, after strapping on the belt, Michael made his way over to the sheet and examined it. There seemed to be two other employees according to the log, but neither of them were on shift…so did one of them just leave a spare set of clothes…?
His eyes drifted to the hoodie and pants with a slight frown before sighing.
He had hoped he wouldn't be doing his shift alone.
With another sigh, he grasped the pen that was attached to the clipboard and wrote down his name as well as the time. Then he turned to the elevator doors and let out a breath squaring his shoulders.
Might as well get started.
After-all the sooner he found the answers he wanted, the sooner he could leave this all behind-
Michael was cut off as suddenly a door creak made his attention snap to the bathroom door that he must've missed earlier.
There stood a man…a rather, short man. He seemed to be dressed in some kind of security uniform rather than the jumpsuit that Michael donned.
For a moment the two men stared at each other before the shorter one frowned deeply.
"Who the ***k are you?"
Bit of a short one, but an establishing one. Hope y'all liked it.