"Frick, frick, frick!" Toxic squealed in terror, looking at the lit doorway with wide-eyes. "Shut, shut, shut! FOX, GET ON THAT DOOR, CHECK FREDDY, FOXY, LIGHT, DOOR—!"
"I got it; chill!"
"THERE ARE THINGS OUT TO KILL US; WE CAN'T CHILL! NOT NOW!" the female author screamed, shaking Fox by the shoulders. "WE WILL DIE—!"
"We will if you don't let go of me!"
"… TRUE!"
Fox sighed irritably, but his breaths quickened as he repeated his procedure. The female was looking like she was about to lose it… and they weren't even so far into the night. It was a sort of double shift. Both were looking over the cameras, checking each door, each shadow, listening to each noise—paranoia remained the worst thing in the world, and it would soon worsen to the point that the pair would never speak…
"FOX, I SWEAR TO—!"
…well, that was a short-lived lie.
The man looked at her impatiently.
"I'm trying to look at the cameras!"
"Me too!" Toxic pouted at him irritably as she simultaneously pressed at her door.
"Well, don't!" Fox responded, looking down at her as he glanced at Freddy on the security feed.
"I should have more authority! I beat this night already!" Toxic flailed her arms, narrowing them at her friend.
"After how many tries?!" The guard asked urgently.
"…no comment!" Toxic whistled innocently, suddenly acting like she had no interest in the current topic.
"Why can't we just assign one person to the cameras and the other to the doors?" Fox replied tiredly, shutting his door as Chica grinned widely behind him through the window.
"Too many variables, especially with miscommunication! Do YOU want to face the robots of hell?!"
"Do YOU?!"
"We're gonna' die, fast!" Toxic wailed anime tears.
"We're not going to; stop panicking. If you've beat this game, it's a no brainer, right?"
"But I've never had REAL experience with it!"
"Well, I think this counts towards it…"
"Pessimistic Toxic has kicked in; the optimistic Toxic is of no return!" the author panicked.
"Toxic…" Fox sweatdropped.
"…wait a minute, with the way we're going… we should be dead now. Why aren't we dead, Fox? Is the cake a lie? Did hope triumph despair? Is the universe a hologram?"
"Wh-what—how should I know?" Fox replied, shaking his head. Then he frowned. "Th-that's right though… why aren't we dead yet?"
"Maybe game dead isn't the same as actual dead! Maybe it's been paranoia all along! We're saved!" Toxic chirped happily, then paused. "…oh, it's because we've shut both doors… wishful thinking."
"…Wait. We drain our power—"
"…%3. Well, fudge."
Whiiiirrrrrr….!
"…well, FNAF is one way to go out…" Fox grumbled bitterly. He glanced at the doors nervously as the lights flickered, the doors sliding open…
"But this doesn't make any sense! We've barely been here five minutes! It shouldn't be possible!" Toxic yelped. "Retry, retry, retry! Please, game, I will love you forever if you just give us more time! I'LL MARRY YOU! GOD FORBID!"
Silence.
"… I don't think that worked, Toxi—"
"I know it didn't, Foxeh," the author responded sadly. "Well… you've been a cool guy. Nice knowing you, I guess."
"…was… was that meant to be goodbye?" Fox blinked at her.
"…no, it isn't! Fox, I seriously value you as a friend; you deserve a PROPER goodbye! Come here; I'll hug the fudge out of you and suffocate you so you don't have to be killed by THEM!" Toxic dashed forward, an emotional and sincere expression on her face.
Her heart was in the wrong place.
"Wha—no way, Toxic!" Fox side-stepped quickly, and the female tripped. Her breath hitched as she fell face flat onto the floor, out into the right hallway. Her hair parted as she lifted her head, then blinked, looking around in the hallway.
After a few seconds, recognition hit her, and she screamed, scrambling back to her feet. A pair of hands grabbed her and hauled her back into the Office before the hands of a yellow chicken could grab her.
"Th-thanks… I-I… almost… g-got a gameover…" Toxic breathed, eyes wide with terror. "I want to go back to my lonely, utterly-antisocial home now."
"I don't think there's going to be a game over… for either of us," Fox muttered, seeming thoughtful as he helped Toxic upright. "We were screwed a while ago. Night 6 is busy, right?"
"Mega busy," she replied shakily. "There's a specific method I had to follow, repeatedly, without fail, and it was irritating to the brink of madness." Her left eye twitched. "Mad. Ness."
"We haven't even so much as followed that method to the T," Fox pointed out, looking at Toxic with a baffled expression.
"Maybe it's a glitch?" Toxic mused. "…anyway, why the Hell are we still here if it is?! We should be exploiting it!" She glanced around the room quickly, then at the ceiling.
"I dunno…"
"Fox! There's a vent in the ceiling!" The female started jumping up, but was ultimately too short to reach it.
"Toxic, I don't think you're going to reach that…"
"Nonsense!" she replied quickly. She started climbing on the desk.
"Uh… Toxic…"
She stared at it with an annoyed expression.
"I will own you, you motherfudging vent! I WILL OWN YOU AND YOUR ELEMENTS!"
And with that declaration, she leapt.
The result was, in a word, catastrophic.
Several things fell off the desk, oh, and the human herself, starting a dog pile on top of Fox.
"… There isn't going to be a running gag of me getting hurt as a result of your shenanigans, is there?" he deadpanned, looking at her with a deadpan expression.
Toxic chuckled sheepishly. "Of course not!"
"Because I'm noticing a pattern…"
"Nu!" she denied quickly. She got to her feet, and held out a hand to Fox to help him up. He pulled himself up, and she, quite rejected, looked elsewhere. She brushed off the rejection and gave a determined expression. "Okay! Plan B! You hoist me up there!"
"…what?" Fox stared at her. This girl… sure, he'd known her over the forum, but… she really was as determined and perky as she made herself out to be… She wasn't like this all the time… right? Regardless, she was still trying, and it seemed Optimistic Toxic, as she put it, had returned. But how would they get the vent open…? "Even if we reach it, you know it's not open, right?"
"There'll be a screwdriver somewhere here!" she responded stubbornly. She quickly scanned the desk, then her frowny face made another appearance. "Fudge…"
"Why would you think that…?"
"Oooooh, don't blame me! I'm used to Fallout logic…" she looked down sadly. "The protagonist always inexplicably has a screwdriver… Why can't we inexplicably have a screwdriver?! So unfair..."
"I never really questioned it," Fox responded, rubbing the back of his neck.
Thud, thud, thud…
"…! Foxeh! Hide me!" The girl shrunk behind the man.
"Why do I have to be a body shield?" Fox asked her irritably.
"You're not a body shield… just… a barricade…?" she asked sheepishly. "You're probably stronger than me! You'll live! Possibly suffer…" She squeaked that last part, and immediately felt sad.
Fox glanced at her with a very unamused expression, to which she smiled sheepishly.
The pair watched on in horror as the footsteps got closer and closer, coming from the door on the right. A shadow danced across the floor slowly, alerting the two beings of its ominous owner's existence. The female shivered visibly, her face turning pale from fear: she glanced behind, checking the other door, but no chicken turned up to 'apprehend' the two. This figure was lone in its actions, calm and composed.
Both he and her had the idea of it being the very mascot of the establishment, arriving as soon as the perilous power had drained—but his arrival was delayed, very much so. The footsteps seemed… less heavy than usual, and Fox couldn't place these soft steps being those of Freddy Fazbear's.
These doubts were soon brought to fruition as a young boy with short and messy brown hair stepped into the light of the office, bearing blue eyes and shorter than the other man in the room. This boy was clad in a very prepared outfit: jeans, a shirt, jacket, trainers… and a belt, holding a bunch of spherical, red and white balls.
This newcomer had little to blend in with his surroundings; his clothing was bright and colourful in comparison to the murky reds and browns plastered all over the tiles. Toxic blinked, her green eyes focusing on him more clearly; upon this inspection, she realized this person was a Pokemon trainer… and at that, she raised an eyebrow. What was someone like that doing here?
Better yet, why was she asking herself that question when she was here herself?
Fox squinted at the boy, then glanced over his shoulder, looking for some evidence of a killer animatronic—any indication that they were returning, slowly but surely, and just raring to stuff their mutilated corpses into a suit…
The boy blinked at Fox's movements, then waved a dismissive hand, smiling good-heartedly.
"There isn't an issue with those guys anymore," he stated, sounding satisfied with himself. "They're outta' commission for good…"
Fox couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What?"
The boy wasn't serious, was he…? There were like sequels left and right—it would be difficult to put them out of commission…
Toxic blinked, then her eyes glistened. She stepped out from behind Fox confidently, ready to fight the rest of the day.
"Oh, brave boy! Thank you so much—"
The boy paused, placing an index finger on his chin. "At least I think so. Scott's crafty, seemingly…"
"Y-you… th-think so…?" Toxic trembled; she immediately reverted back to hiding again, insecure and fearing for her life.
"Eh. Live and let live, I guess." The boy shrugged. "Hey, Crystal! Finished?"
"Zeb…!"
A creature trotted up behind him, and Fox stiffened immediately, jumping at the foreign creature entering. Soon enough, however, he realized what it was. Black and white. Literally looked like a zebra. Yellow and blue eyes. It was a Zebstrika, a Pokemon.
"You're… a Pokemon trainer?" He blinked.
"Yeah," the boy responded, grinning. "Name's Flash—"
"FLASHY-KUN!"
'Flash' was interrupted by a glomping Toxic, and he gasped for air whilst trying to pry her off.
At the nickname, realization hit him, and he looked down.
"Toxic?"
The author then pulled away, allowing him to gather oxygen once again before pouting at him. She folded her arms, looking annoyed.
"All you people are taller than meh… why…" she whined. "I wanna' be cool too!"
"Flash, huh? Y'know, since Toxic popped up, I was kinda expecting you to show up too…" Fox shrugged, looking confident in himself.
"C'mon, Foxeh, you looked just as shocked as me," Toxic deadpanned at him, elbowing him.
"Maybe a little. I knew it was going to be someone, but…" Fox tried to explain what he meant, apparently. "…I didn't know it was going to be FLASH…"
"Sure," Flash responded good-naturedly, giving a casual shrug. "Thing is, I'm here now… and you're Fox?"
"Yeah… Toxic said as much… no point in introducing myself now…" Fox rubbed the back of his neck.
The female author laughed sheepishly. "Sorreh, Foxeh…"
"Good to meet you, man! But I never thought I'd meet you in THIS kinda scenario." Flash frowned. "The world's… all messed up. We have to try fix it… stat."
Toxic lurked at the side of the room awkwardly as the two spoke.
"Yeah… we really do need to get on that," Fox replied, then glanced around, cringing slightly. "Of course, I ended up here, and so did she…"
"Ah, I see," Flash responded with an understanding nod. "…seriously, Fox, why?"
"I… don't really know. I got thrown into here, and I found this note… It said that if I wanted to get out alive, I had to live through the worst thing imaginable. And so… I got my job."
"And this was on that list," Flash concluded, scowling slightly. "Sick person…"
"Yeah; I can definitely say this isn't good for someone's health… I almost died a few times…"
"This game's lethal," Flash stated, glancing around the office. "Luckily, I didn't end up here…"
"How did you even make the game malfunction?" Fox tilted his head, concentrating and looking thoughtful.
"Oh, that's easy. Good shot of electricity did the trick! Shorts them out. Right, Crystal?"
"Zebbbb!" his companion, bearing a golden medal, responded in agreement. She looked proud at this add-in.
"That's… exactly what Purple Guy did."
"…huh?" Flash glanced at Toxic with a questionable expression. "What?"
Toxic squinted at Flash.
"Taser'd the animatronics..."
There was a long silence.
"FOX, FLASH IS PURPLE GUY! GET HIM!"
Flash and Fox shared glances, deadpan ones.
The female stared at them, thinking briefly before her face lit up in horror.
"You two are in cohorts?!" Toxic gasped, pointing. "Of COURSE! My theory that the Purple Guy had an accomplice! Flash is Purple Guy, and Fox is the accomplice!"
"Toxic…" Flash muttered, frowning awkwardly. "I'm your friend…"
"According to the internet!"
"I'm clearly not wielding any murder weapons."
"YOUR POKEBALLS COULD BE IDEAL MURDER WEAPONS OF DEATH!"
"I'm not purple, am I?"
"I know you're not, but Scott would've probably used that in a way of expressionism! Purple representing… royalty? …this HAS to be the wrong era."
Flash sighed.
"Look, Purple Guy or not, we need to get outta' here. What if the guy that threw Fox in here is still around?" Flash reasoned, folding his arms. "You two don't want to wind up stuck in here with those… things, again, and I definitely don't, not when we've got a world to save."
"Exactly. So… uh… it might be better if you quit the Sticks act…" Fox rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around anxiously.
"Don't bring Sticks into this! She's guilty of false identity!" Toxic huffed.
"False identity…?"
"Come on, Toxic. Let's find an exit."
Flash grabbed her hand and started walking towards the exit, soon followed by Crystal.
The female flailed in panic. "I'm being kidnapped by a bunch of lies! Help!"
Fox walked after her, looking at her in a confused manner.
"…who are you shouting to?"