Our van pulled up outside the abandoned pizzeria. The place had been deserted a long time ago. I would've thought it'd be pulled down, but local superstition delayed its destruction and eventually it was forgotten about. Since then it had just been left to decay, windows smashed, graffiti decorating the outside walls, any metal left to the elements had long since rusted. The place gave off a creepy atmosphere. It seemed almost … haunted, like some vengeful spirit roamed its halls. Given what had happened with our pizzeria, I wouldn't be surprised if half the local superstitions had some form of fact woven into them.
The manager and I sat looking at it for a short time. So this was the legacy of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. There was so much I had heard about this place, but so little I actually knew. This was where the misfortunes had started, and where it was likely to end, one way or the other.
I checked my watch. It was just after 10pm. It was dark even for the time, since the moon was hidden.
The manager knocked on the panel behind us, signalling to Bonnie and Freddy that we had arrived. I heard a small knock in response before the side sliding door was opened.
I took a breath and slowly released it before opening the passenger door and stepping out into the cold air. I shivered as it touched my bare face. A small amount of vapour formed in front of my mouth as I exhaled. I laughed to myself, this was so much like a horror movie or story. The darkness, the suspense, but this time it was all real. Too real.
Bonnie and Freddy stretched, even the large back area of the van was cramped for them. I doubt their servos agreed with their lack of action for such a long time. Luckily for them they didn't feel the cold, but I'd bet they felt the atmosphere of the place.
Similar to the manager and myself, the two stood looking at the closed-down pizzeria for a time. Doubtlessly, memories were flooding through their minds. The good times, the bad times, everything which had happened before, during and after. I could barely imagine what they had gone through, even though I had shared a fair part of their past when I helped them. There was so much more which I hadn't seen and which they'd only just referred to, hesitant to relive the other horrors they had experienced.
The manager reached into the back of the van and brought out a case. A black case held closed by two clasps. On it was a tag saying "Plan B."
I looked to him, questioning.
He placed the case down and popped the clasps.
"Funny," I muttered as I saw the contents.
"Plan B" it seemed was the "conventional" way to settle an argument, a shotgun and a pistol. He passed the pistol to me, taking the shotgun himself.
"I've never used one of these before," I said, examining the pistol.
"Well, there's a first for everything," he said, grabbing the shotgun. He showed me the basics of using the pistol, from aiming to chambering it. He told me to keep the safety on, for now.
"I guess you've had experience with that?" I asked, pointing to the shotgun.
"Of course, you make contingencies when you have rampant robots in your pizzerias." He smiled, indicating that he was joking.
Freddy still shot him a look.
The manager gave the shotgun a quick look over. Content with how it was, he nodded to himself and looked to us, "Alright, I don't know what we're going to find in there, but we should be ready to fight. We may even have to fight Foxy."
Bonnie and Freddy nodded solemnly. I nodded as well, although more slowly.
The manager nodded back to us, taking a deep breath, he headed towards the pizzeria. The creepy atmosphere intensified as we got closer, until it seemed like a blanket over us, weighing us down.
Looking back to us and seeing the determination in our eyes, the manager placed his hand against the door. It took a bit of force, but eventually it gave. He pushed on it and the door slowly swung open.
We were met by inky darkness. The room beyond was pitch black, a choking blackness which seemed almost impenetrable.
Conveniently, small flashlights were attached to both the shotgun and the pistol.
Flicking them on, we moved into the pizzeria, albeit nervously. Our flashlights seemed to only penetrate a short distance into the darkness around us.
For a minute I was concerned if Bonnie and Freddy could see in the dark. Turning to them, my question was answered before I asked it. Bonnie's and Freddy's eyes were slowly lighting up, emitting a soft light much like the flashlights on our weapons did.
"I never knew you could do that," I said to Freddy.
He didn't answer, only put on a half-smile.
Looking forward, I noticed the manager had moved a little way in. He had stopped, waiting for us to catch up.
I slowly moved up to him and he nodded, indicating he was moving forward. I followed him as he moved into the first room.
This room was much like the dining area in our pizzeria, just without all the tables and quite a bit larger.
"This was the game area," The manager explained, "differing from the pizzeria you're used to, this one had separate party rooms."
Choosing not to speak, I just nodded.
I looked to my right and was met by three pairs of eyes.
I jumped back, the others jerking to face the same direction at my sudden move.
The manager relaxed, lowering his shotgun slightly.
"Don't worry, they're deactivated at the moment."
Standing on stage were three animatronics, they looked familiar, but different in a way.
"Meet the toy versions of our band, Toy Bonnie, Toy Chica and Toy Freddy," the manager spoke softly.
I looked at them incredulously. Then I looked back to Bonnie and Freddy.
I could see the resemblances, but the differences stood out even more so. Both Bonnie and Freddy were taller than their toy counterparts. The toy versions seemed harder, like they were made out of a different material. Also they seemed more, childish? I eventually settled on younger. They seemed out-of-place compared to the pizzeria around them. They were strangely pristine, like they'd been maintained while the rest of the place fell down around them. But who, or what, had been maintaining them?
When I'd finished my examinations, the manager led us on further into the pizzeria. We continued in the same direction until we came to a doorway. Beyond was a short, narrow hallway. Two doors were spaced evenly along the right side and further down was a door leading off to the left. At the very end of the hallway was a door marked "Parts/Service."
"I think we should check in the Parts/Service room, it's the most likely place for them to leave Chica," the manager suggested, leading us down the hallway.
Bonnie and Freddy checked the toilets, more so to make sure that there was nothing … unsavoury … hiding in them. I laughed to myself at my little joke.
The door to the Parts/Service room was slightly ajar. It looked like it would swing out towards us.
The manager grabbed the door handle with his left hand, holding the shotgun in his right hand, aiming it towards the gap. He nodded to me and I responded in kind, ready to enter.
He yanked the door open and I hurried in, followed quickly by him then Freddy.
I looked around the room. My gaze settled on the only object in the room. My breath caught in my throat and I choked.
Chica was sat against a wall.
She was in such a state of disrepair it was hard to believe that she'd been active just last night. The top part of her head had sprung upwards, leaving a gap between the top of her eye sockets and her actual eyes, her mouth left gaping open. Her arms were splayed out to either side, like her servos had locked in place. Both her hands were missing, wires hanging out from the holes at the ends of her arms. Her costume was also torn and cracked in various places. The yellow was blemished by patches of dirt.
The manager inhaled, "What have they done to you Chica?"
Chica, naturally, didn't respond.
Bonnie filed into the room. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Chica.
Freddy's eyes were full of rage, "When we catch that traitorous pirate..." he slammed his fist against the wall.
It was then that I noticed a sound which had been following us since shortly after we had entered the game area, which I had only just recognised.
A garbled radio-like sound.
"Mangle," the manager whispered, frightened, looking up at the ceiling.
I followed his gaze but saw nothing, only shadows. The manager and I pointed our guns at the walls, waving them around, searching for Mangle.
One shadow moved slightly, "There!" I shouted, pointing.
It was indeed Mangle, who slowly detached herself from the ceiling, dropping to the floor.
She was relatable to a snake, rearing her head up and making an almost hissing noise, threatening us.
The manager and I pointed our weapons at her, unsure whether she was going to attack or not, hesitant to shoot her. To me, she was the key to what happened to Chica, to the manager, she was his creation. Both of us found it hard to bring harm to her. Seeing her broken form, I felt pity for her, is this what Foxy thought when he first looked upon her?
Bonnie and Freddy had turned to Mangle, both raising their fists, ready to strike.
Her eyes found mine and I found myself frozen in place, paralysed by fear.
She shrieked and jumped back up to the ceiling, reading to pounce.
Unable to move, I stared at her.
She launched herself from the ceiling, but she didn't aim for me.
She jumped at Bonnie, her mouth clamping down on his forehead. Her claws scrabbled against the sides of his head.
Bonnie screeched in pain, bringing his hands up, trying to get Mangle off his face. A tangle of wires wound themselves around Bonnie's left arm, digging into the metal.
Mangle began pulling back and Bonnie's screech intensified.
We tried to intervene but Mangle's other endoskeleton head and back feet fended us off.
Bonnie's screech died off as Mangle tore the front of his mask off as well as his left arm.
Bonnie's other arm fell back to his side and he tumbled forward, loosing consciousness.
Victorious, Mangle retreated with her prize, Bonnie's face and arm, clutched in her front claws. She scuttled along the roof into the shadows.
Enraged, Freddy charged after her, bellowing as he disappeared into the darkness of the hallway.
There was a screech, presumably from Mangle as Freddy caught up to her, followed by the sounds of a struggle.
I checked Bonnie, he was still alive, just unconscious. Relieved, I indicated for the manager to help me as I moved Bonnie to the wall, propping his back up against it.
A short time later we heard a hollow thumping, like an animatronic walking.
Freddy appeared in the doorway, looking dazed.
He looked at us blankly, like he didn't remember us. His suit was in tatters, tears covered it and wires hung out from the tears and gaps. Dirt covered him, like he'd been smashed into the walls repeatedly.
He slowly walked into the room, looking off-balance.
"Freddy, what happened?" the manager asked, rushing to aid him.
Freddy didn't respond and he hit the manager's hand away when he tried to help him.
Freddy collapsed on the floor, powering down.
"He's resting now, best not to disturb him," the manager muttered, confused at Freddy's unusual manner.
I looked around the dilapidated room.
Chica hadn't moved, remaining in her crucified-like sitting position. Her mouth open, eyes staring at the ground blankly.
Bonnie was propped against the wall where we'd moved him, the endoskeleton usually hidden by his mask was now visible, wires hanging from where it had been ripped off.
Freddy was lying on the ground facing up, his eyes out of focus.
Given the state of the room and the animatronics' ruined state, they seemed to fit in. I wondered if this wasn't the first time they'd been like this.
I heard something moving and looked to the door.
Foxy appeared in the doorway, his eyes lacking the usual yellow glow. Instead, his eyes were dark, black except for a faint glimmer of light.
The manager and I were instantly alert, aiming our weapons at him, ready for him to charge at us, although reluctant to actually do anything should he attack.
But Foxy made no move to attack, he looked around the room. He looked at the others in their crippled state.
"I didn't want any of this to happen to them," he said in a low voice.
His eyes met mine, he was not trying to deceive me. The sorrow in his eyes was real.
I lowered my gun, the manager followed.
"Why Foxy? Why did you do this?" I demanded.
A single drop of oil ran down his cheek.
"I had to. Mangle was in pain."
"But look at the pain they are in now! Your friends. You betrayed them!" I accused.
He looked back at them before whispering, "She told me they would not be harmed."
"Well they have been harmed, and by her!" I shouted at him.
Foxy recoiled, the light fading from his eyes, "Listen lad, Mangle's a good..."
I cut him off, "She's deceived you! You're blinded by her!"
Foxy growled, raising his hook at me, "She's better than you know!"
"She told you to help her abduct your best friend! How can you be okay with what she's done to Chica, to Bonnie, TO FREDDY?" I shouted the last bit at him.
Foxy's growl intensified, but when the manager raised his shotgun again at him he stopped himself from moving forward, "You don't know Mangle like I do! This isn't her fault!"
"Then whose is it?" I shouted.
"I don't know!" Foxy yelled back.
"I'm sorry Foxy, but she's done this. The manager and I are going to finish this before it gets worse!"
"No! Don't you dare go near Mangle! I don't care what you've done for me, you harm her and you'll have me to answer to! Both of you!" Foxy threatened, backing away.
He sent both of us one more menacing look before turning away and leaving us.
"Well, that went swimmingly," The manager sighed.