The two of us sat in a corner, taking small swigs from a water bottle we'd found. The water tasted stale but it quenched our thirst for the time being. I saw the clouds under the manager's eyes. We were both thinking the same thing, how many times did we have to see them destroyed? This was only my second time, but how many times had the manager gone through this I wondered? I guess it was worsened by the fact that Foxy had betrayed us, no matter how sorrowful he looked, he had aided in it and now he wasn't willing to face she who had caused it, Mangle.
The three animatronics hadn't moved for a couple hours. We'd been waiting for them to show any sign of movement, but now it seemed like they wouldn't. They'd been deathly still, no sign of life showing from them. The manager had assured me that they were still alive, but I was inclined to disbelieve him. How could they be so lifeless for so long without being dead?
I looked around at them again. I felt a small patch of wetness fall down my cheek. I rubbed my hand across my cheek, looking at it. The dirt from my hand and face had smudged with the water from my tear. Now I was crying over them. Why shouldn't I? I'd come so close to all of them over the past year. It made Foxy's betrayal hurt that much more. Everything I knew said that Foxy should never have done it, but here we were, Freddy, Bonnie and Chica almost dead, the manager and I left to pick up the pieces.
A question which had been lingering in my mind for a few hours now eventually became too much for me to keep to myself. Slowly looking to the manager, I got his attention before speaking.
"Is this the first time they've been like this? In this state in this room?"
The manager averted his eyes, looking down at the floor.
For several minutes he was silent, I thought he wasn't going to answer.
Then he drew breath to speak, "No. This happened once before."
He sighed, recalling the past, "When this pizzeria was opened, they were confined to this room, they were used as parts. I didn't want it, but the company pressed that they had to be deactivated, due to their … past misadventures. Come to think of it, they looked exactly like this back then. Of course, everyone was lead to believe that they were deactivated."
"They weren't deactivated?" I asked.
"Of course not, otherwise they wouldn't be here. They die if they're deactivated for too long remember?"
I shuddered as I remembered how close we'd come to killing Golden Freddy because of it.
"So since they weren't entirely deactivated, they did move around at night sometimes. They scared the crap out of the nightguards we had on duty at the time. Maybe it was because of that that the pizzeria was shut down," he looked solemnly at the animatronics.
"When the pizzeria was shut down, we refitted them for the other pizzeria since they were so run-down and we didn't have the budget to make new ones. The company demanded that the toy animatronics be destroyed and I thought they were, but here we are. It's as much a riddle to me why they are alive as it is to you. The condition they are in, they haven't been left alone for the past 30 years, and they haven't been immobile either. Someone else has been looking after them, Robert has been in prison since shortly after this pizzeria was shut down."
The unspoken question, "But who?" remained in our thoughts. Both of us knew the other was thinking about it as well. We sat in silence as we attempted to avoid answering it.
After a while the manager heaved out a breath and got up. I looked up at him blankly.
He held his shotgun to his chest as he looked down at me, "No use moping around, we have to do something, this isn't going to fix itself."
For a minute I sat there, not responding. Despair had almost overtaken me and I was on the verge of giving up. "But what can we do?" I forced the words out of my constricted throat.
"We need to strike first. We must destroy Mangle," he said in a low voice, a shadow of sorrow crossing his eyes.
"But you heard what Foxy said, he'd kill us if we even touch her," I replied.
"But we can't sit here doing nothing and our only way out is her," he said to me.
I looked to Chica. Her eyes were still directed at the floor, unseeing. Those eyes, which had only just yesterday been full of spark as she showed me her creations.
Bonnie, who had always been cheerful, a smile almost constantly displayed on his face whenever they were entertaining the children. Now his face was gone, ripped off and claimed by Mangle.
Freddy, whose heart was the biggest part of him. He really was a big teddy bear. Now he laid sprawled on the floor, the warm glow always evident in his eyes had faded.
I thought of the past year I'd spent at the pizzeria, with them. How well I'd come to know them, they were friends. The countless times we'd played our game, the fun moments and the sad moments. I remembered the four of them, standing on stage, smiling, a family, inviting me to join them.
We had to do this, for them.
"So what do we do?" I asked.
"We find Mangle," he replied simply.
I nodded slowly and lifted myself off the floor. I checked the gun as the manager had shown me to.
When we were ready, the manager led the way.
"I know where we can find her, Kid's Cove."
We moved back out into the game area. The toy animatronics were still standing on stage, they hadn't moved the entire time. I wondered if they actually were still active.
Instead of coming back the way we had come when we entered, the manager turned right as we entered the game area. This led to another doorway into a small room. This must be what used to be Kid's Cove.
As we entered, the now-familiar garbled-radio sound could be heard. Mangle was definitely here.
We slowed our pace and aimed our flashlights around the room, looking for a sign that Mangle was moving around. We found her on the floor, evidently resting. She didn't know we were there.
The manager placed a finger on his lips as he slowly and quietly walked up to her, aiming his shotgun at her face. He got as close as he dared and I could see his finger beginning to tighten on the trigger.
Mangle suddenly whipped into action, knocking the manager's arm upwards, the shot going into the ceiling.
She screeched at our intrusion and jumped up to attach herself to the ceiling. She scuttled out of my sights as I loosed off a few shots at her, one pinging off her metal.
"RUN!" the manager shouted.
Needing no second instruction, I ran out of the room, followed by the manager.
"Back down the hallway!" he bellowed after me.
I could hear Mangle scuttling on the roof above as she chased us. I chanced a look upwards and saw a flash of pink.
I jerked my head back down and dodged as she cannonballed into the ground right where I was heading. That was close, she'd almost landed right on top of me. I shuddered as I thought what would've happened if she had hit me.
Having missed me, she tried to swipe my feet out from underneath me. Expecting the attack, I jumped, vaulting over her low kick.
She'd known I'd attempt to the dodge the kick and quickly followed it up with a scratch at me. She hadn't correctly calculated my momentum which took me past most of her follow-up attack. Her claws still ripped through the back of my pants and tore at the flesh of my left thigh. I let out a stifled groan as I felt her claws draw blood.
The wound didn't prevent me from moving, but as soon as I landed I stumbled onto my knees. Not giving Mangle a chance to jump at me, I hurriedly got up and continued running.
A thump sounded behind me as Mangle, who'd had the same idea as me, was a second too late to catch me on the ground. She hissed in frustration as she missed me for the second time.
I risked a look behind me just in time to see her jump back to the ceiling, using one of her limbs to vault up off the wall. Her movement, if you could call it that, was a jumble of endoskeleton writhing, pieces clacking together as she moved. It reminded me a lot of a snake, but even a snake was more eloquent in moving than that.
I felt the hot wetness of my blood trickling down my left leg, seeping into what was left of the clothing on that leg.
We neared the end of the hallway and the Manager pointed down the left-side door, "That way!"
I turned as I ran, almost hitting into the wall.
Mangle's scuttling intensified and I knew she was lining up to pounce again.
Taking my chances, I blindly aimed behind me, pulling the trigger on the pistol.
Several shots whizzed down the hallway behind us.
I heard a harsh squeal as one shot must've hit Mangle.
Mangle's garble sounded further away as she held back.
We ran past two sets of doors on either side of the hallway before we came to a room at the end.
It was a dead-end.
"Where do we go now?" I asked in a panic, looking around. There was a vent on each side of the room, they looked large enough to fit even an animatronic. A desk was positioned in the middle of the room, it reminded me of my office back in the other pizzeria, just without all the monitors all over it and one door either side.
"We make a stand here," the manager said, turning around and bringing his shotgun up.
I heard Mangle hiss softly as her eyes glowed in the darkness. They were full of rage and hate. She edged closer to the office, her face coming into the light. This was the first time I'd been able to get a really good look at her face. It did look remarkably like Foxy's, except coloured white and more feminine-looking. Her eyes met mine and I almost had to do a double-take. Past the rage and hate masking her eyes, I could see curiosity and … pain? Was what Foxy said true? That Mangle was indeed in pain? I had no clue as to whether the pain caused her to do what she'd done, or if it was something else entirely.
Her garble increased as she slowly came closer, although she didn't enter the room. She seemed content to stay outside, biding her time.
We soon found out what she was waiting for.
Another pair of eyes appeared at the far end of the hallway.
The manager drew a breath as he realised who it was.
Foxy.
Anger was evident in his eyes.
He shouted down the corridor, "I told you, I told you both! Stay away from Mangle!"
Mangle looked to him, "Kill him," she instructed, pointing at the manager.
Foxy hesitated for a couple of seconds, before roaring and charging down the hallway. He closed the distance in a few seconds and lunged at the manager, pinning him against the wall.
I aimed my pistol at Foxy, "Foxy, don't do this. Don't make ME do this," I said to him.
He looked at me, his eyes were black. However, I saw the faint light I had glimpsed last time we talked.
He looked back to the manager and began to raise his hook.
"Foxy, stop!" I shouted.
The manager looked at him pleadingly, causing Foxy to hesitate for a second.
"Do it, kill him," Mangle commanded once more.
At her command, the faint light from Foxy's eyes faded.
Foxy raised his hook higher.
I hesitated, I couldn't just shoot Foxy, even with all he's done, I'd known him for too long. I knew this wasn't him.
The hesitation gave Foxy the time he needed to swing his hook down.
Down into the manager's shoulder.
The manager shouted in pain, dropping the shotgun.
Foxy withdrew his hook, blood spurting out of the gash in the manager's shoulder. The manager's legs gave way and he slumped against the wall, slowly sliding down it to the floor.
Foxy turned to me, hook raised, his black eyes now set on me. He began advancing on me. I tried to convincingly threaten him with the gun, but he didn't halt his advance.
He walked right up in front of me. This was worse than when he'd been corrupted by the program. He'd never been this close to killing me then. There were no doors, no windows, no Chica or Bonnie to save me this time. I gasped in fear and accidentally dropped the pistol, I'd been shaking so much that if I'd tried shooting it probably would've missed, even at this close range.
Just as he started raising his hook, Mangle spoke. "No," she commanded, "He's still … curious, leave him be."
Foxy lowered his hook.
After a lingering look at me, her curiosity evidently getting the better of her, Mangle turned and scuttled away down the hallway. Foxy followed after one final look at the manager, resting against the wall.
I dropped to my knees where I stood. I began hyperventilating. I'd been so close to death. Maybe that's what Mangle wanted, she'd wanted Foxy to come so close to killing me to scare me out of any further action against her. With how I was feeling, I'd say she succeeded.
I brought my breath under control after a time. I remembered the manager and quickly hurried to his side, once more dropping to my knees.
Blood streamed from the gash in his shoulder as he drew breath to speak, "Foxy … he … he's not fully controlled by her. He … missed on purpose."
I found a rag on the desk in the room, using it as a makeshift bandage I covered the massive wound in the manager's shoulder. The rag was soon coloured a deep red as his blood seeped into it. Eventually the bleeding stopped. He was safe now, but he'd lost a lot of blood.
His face was pale, evidence of the amount of blood he'd lost.
He attempted to speak, "There's still good … in him."
I looked at him, "But … how do I reach it?" I asked.
"I … don't know. His attachment to Mangle is … strong, that is what is making him do this. Separate … him from her and you might … be able to convince him," He went quiet for a moment, pondering.
A light sparked in his eyes, "I ... have an idea. Attack Mangle and ... make Foxy chase you away from her. Once you're … far enough away … you can attempt to persuade him."
"Won't it be dangerous to aggravate him? What if he doesn't calm down?" I asked.
"Isn't what we've been doing … this whole time dangerous?" he chuckled, coughing.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," I admitted.
He pulled me closer, "This might be ... the only chance we have ... you can't falter."
I nodded slowly.
He let go of me, averting his eyes.
"I'm too weak to be of any help ... I believe you can do it though," he whispered, before he lost consciousness.
I looked at the floor, "Damn it," I muttered.
Remembering my own wound, I took a quick look at the scratches on my leg. They weren't bad, and they had largely stopped bleeding. Nevertheless, I ripped off what was remaining of the clothing and fashioned a crude bandage out of it, wrapping it tightly around the parts of the scratches which were still bleeding, the scratches were too long to cover entirely.
I slowly got up, a fierce determination in my eyes.
I picked up the shotgun the manager had dropped.
I was about to do something very idiotic. I was about to purposely infuriate an animatronic pirate fox into chasing me, then attempt to reason with him.
It was sure to be loads of fun.