Mable: Here we are with another chapter! I would like to thank everyone for the reviews, favorites, and for following the story; every time I see an alert in my inbox I try to work a little harder. ^-^… That being said, I'm a little concerned at the possible reaction to this chapter. I'm still going for it, though, and I hope you Enjoy!
Can't Go Home Again
Chapter Five
Mike sent one last glance over his uniform to make sure everything looked on par. The last thing he wanted was to go in looking like a mess. Maybe it hadn't been such a big deal when he worked the night shift alone, but now he was working a day shift with a partner, and that meant some effort needed to be given. He stepped out of the bedroom while glancing at his watch; right on time. A good thing too, as he needed to get out of the house after go for hours stuck in one location. He slipped his cap on and started out, "Alright, I'm on my way out."
If there was one thing that Mike had noticed, it was how clingy the Puppet was becoming. After being so aggressive previously, it was now constantly following him around the house. It wasn't that Mike minded, it was just that he didn't exactly understand. The Puppet didn't really want him to do anything but wanted him always in the vicinity. It was apparent to him as the animatronic appeared that there was going to be a little bit of a struggle getting out the door. It silently snuck up behind him and glanced over the patch on his left sleeve. For this job it was a patch that replaced a badge.
"It's just a little different from the Pizzeria's," Mike pointed out. He followed with a slightly amused smirk, "Not that hideous purple color." If there were any perks to this job it would be the lack of bright purple clothes. It studied the patch before turning to leave down the hall. "Not going to walk me to the door?" Mike verbally nudged and it made its feelings abundantly clear when it turned and disappeared into its room. At least it wasn't blocking off his escape, he supposed, and passed through the living room to grab his keys.
Sam hadn't called this morning. Personally, Mike was slightly relieved at this, but it did seem odd as Sam wasn't one to show restraint. Even when Mike would directly tell Sam not to call he tended to sneak one in. To be blunt, Sam was a bit more overworked than he let on, so phone calls, errand runs, and coffee breaks were the only time he was able to stop and rest. Mike assumed this is why he would spam his phone. Though it wasn't like he was on call anymore. A fleeting thought passed about the fate of the Pizzeria, which was currently unowned by anyone.
See, 'Fazbear Entertainment' was sort of a scam. It played itself to be a big company, and it once was, but after years of disputes and buying out it really had come down to only a few people in management. Even when the business would 'change hands' it would be the same people with a slightly different name. Fredrick was the one really overseeing everything and he was now gone. The few other names in the business were either unwilling to step in or afraid to actually say they were connected with the failed chain.
As far as Mike knew, this was the last Pizzeria that hadn't been refurbished or changed into something else, and that was because it was one of the oldest. The fate of Freddy's was in limbo. Mike found it interesting, but not concerning. Unless someone tried to reopen it, of course, because Mike wasn't too against the idea of taking a match to the place. As he passed the couch he noticed the Golden Freddy plush sitting there and snatched it up. It was here anyway, so perhaps Mike would drop by the warehouse later and show it to Sam. "I'm going!" he called again.
The Puppet was silent and didn't even immerge. Mike exhaled in a semi-patient manner and stepped out, locking the door behind him. The office building Mike currently worked at was pretty uninteresting. There was nothing spectacular about it and he wasn't even certain what they actually did. The only reason they needed security at all was because of one practice that they couldn't get mastered; firing people. Someone was always coming in after the fact, angry and ready for a fight, and while Mike felt for them he couldn't do anything beyond coaxing them away.
Thankfully in his time there only one serious event happened, and it involved two coworkers coming to blows. He left the plush bear in the backseat and headed in, taking into the office where the other guard was already waiting. Natalie had been working the job longer than Mike had and seemed to take to the routine better. From what Mike knew about her, which he had learned from the talking they did during the quiet times in their shifts, this was one of many jobs she took to support her family. From what he knew the family owned a pawn shop that had gone under, sending them into financial straits.
They were doing better, it seemed, but Natalie worked constantly. She had her sandy hair pulled back in a ponytail; this was the first thing he noticed as he walked in because she was facing away. "That clock's not right, is it?" Mike asked first thing, looking past her to the clock on the wall. She looked back, surprised by his sudden appearance and pausing to finish a bite of donut. "No, it's fast. Someone overcompensated when they set it. Seems like the thing is either slow or fast." She offered a paper bag. "I got a couple more since you're always stealing mine." Mike had no qualms taking the bag and immediately delving in.
"So did you get that thing with the house straightened out?" Natalie asked curiously as she twisted in the chair. Mike hesitated; he had forgotten he had told her and now had no idea what to say. What could he say? Everything was either unbelievable at best and completely insane sounding at worse. Then again, he preferred that. He didn't want anyone really finding out more than they needed to. "Sort of. I've been staying over there… There's a lot of emotional baggage that Fredrick left behind. All over the house. I inherited it all and don't know what to do with it."
"So there really wasn't any family? Wow…" She sounded sympathetic. "I can't even imagine not having a family… At least he didn't die alone." Mike nodded, but then found himself slipping out, "There may have been a son, may be a son, but I'm not sure yet. For now, I'm the one picking up the pieces." Natalie looked to him, "I'm sorry. You two seemed close." The man shrugged it off, "Don't worry about it. I'm glad to do this for him. That's enough for me." For a little while after that the conversation halted. Not in a bad way, but in a sort of 'let's just work' way.
The day moved at a relatively sluggish pace. Nobody had any issues and so Mike and Natalie really had nothing to do. They occasionally made small talk, but it wasn't until around noontime when the woman became a bit bolder. "So, Mike, I might have this Sunday off if everything goes well. Maybe we could meet outside of work?" The question surprised Mike who raised his brows, "You mean, like a date?" It felt weird saying it; he hadn't been on the dating scene for a while and currently wasn't making much of an effort, or he didn't think he was.
"Not a date! Just two co-workers meeting for drinks on a day off. Nothing weird or anything," Natalie defended. "If it makes you feel any better I'll even go in uniform." The joking did seem to make everything less awkward. Mike wasn't really sure what to say. His answer felt like an immediate 'sure', because he was friends with her and didn't mind going out for a drink. However, as much as he liked her he wasn't exactly looking for a romance with her. If anything he feared that would make work extremely awkward. Not to mention that he couldn't exactly date with his 'roommate'.
"What the hell, sure," Mike answered with a smile. "You name the place and I'll be there." Natalie brightened quite a bit, "Have you seen that little pub they opened over by Olsen's? I've been wanting to try it out, but it just seems… Kind of sad to go on my own." Mike smiled cheekily, "Not for me it's not. Here, I'll give you my cell number." He grappled for his cell phone only to find it missing. He didn't usually forget his phone and briefly wondered if anyone was trying to reach him. "Just don't call me today, I won't be answering," he joked and jotted the number down.
"Thanks! I'll call whenever I get news of the schedule." She folded and put the number in her pocket. "I could use the extra work, but I could use the extra drink," she joked, and Mike chuckled back good-heartedly. The rest of the workday was pretty uneventful and Mike left as soon as his shift was over. While driving back he found himself taking the road by the warehouse, almost purposefully, and slowed as he noticed the company van parked in the parking lot. "So Sam's already here… Maybe I should stop in and explain why I haven't answered my phone."
He assumed that Sam started calling whenever he got to the warehouse, but again the machine was missing and couldn't be checked. "He can check the bear while I'm in there." He glanced into the rear view mirror to see that the bear was still resting in the back. He didn't know why he had thought it would move and blamed his paranoia as he pulled into the parking lot. He grabbed the grimy bear and headed inside. He entered the office first thing, but found that Sam was somewhere else. He tossed the Golden Freddy plush on the desk and sat down in the chair to wait.
Sam appeared a few minutes later carrying a small box of papers. When he noticed Mike he got a strange look on his face, one of confusion and disbelief, "Mike?" Mike looked back with a relatively standard look, "Hey Fritz, just came by after work to check in. I have something you might want to see." He gestured over to the plush toy which Sam sent a glance to. "…Alright, first thing, don't call me 'Fritz', people will get the wrong idea." Mike fought the urge to roll his eyes, looking amused, "What people? We're in an empty warehouse."
The technician continued, "Second, I didn't know you were coming by after everything… How are you feeling?" The former security guard shrugged it off, "Better. I just needed to sleep it off. I came by because I left my cell at home and didn't know if you were planning on calling or not." He leaned forward to the computer and casually checked through the security cameras. Not that there was a threat of any kind, but just from the sheer urge to do so. It took him a few seconds to notice the incredulous look on Sam's face. "…Any reason why you're staring at me, or…?"
Sam set down the box of papers before looking straight to the man in the chair. "Mike, why would I call you after last night? After everything you said, telling me not to call you, I wasn't going to risk it. You know me better than that." Mike was now the one staring as Sam exhaled and adjusted his hat. "So what happened with that guy? Did he leave again? I'm guessing he did if you went to work. I was looking through some past files and it's always possible it's another security guard, or even a family member of a guard or something. We should be careful."
There were a few moments of silence. Then Mike decide to be blunt, "Sam, I don't have any idea what you're talking about." The technician blinked, "You know, about last night when you called." Mike shook his head, "I didn't call you last night." With every sentence Sam became more firm and more confused, "You did call me last night. Don't you remember? It was maybe eleven, you said there was a guy watching you from the sidewalk and you were afraid that we were being watched. Then you told me not to call you because you thought the phone was tapped."
"That… That doesn't make any sense," Mike firmly stated. "The only guy wandering around the house yesterday was you. There wasn't anyone outside last night. Hell, I was asleep most of the time. I don't even think I was awake at eleven." He stood and moved so that Sam could take the office chair. The man collapsed in it and leaned back with the confusion still prevalent. "But- Mike, I swear, you called me. I wasn't asleep, I wasn't hallucinating, you called me here and told me all of this… Did you have a fever? Were you delirious or something?" Mike shook his head and tried to think.
He genuinely believed Sam. The man wouldn't lie, he just wasn't the type, and this was too far for a practical joke of any kind. Someone had to have called and if it wasn't Mike himself then it was someone posing at him. His mind briefly flashed over the thought that the 'guy outside' was a rouse for whoever called. Another man could've easily faked his voice, but tapping the number was out of the question, unless Sam didn't check the number. He briefly wondered if it was the Puppet, but it occurred to him that it would've been asleep in its box. Unless…
"I forgot to wind the music box." That single thought sent a strange chill through him. Was it actually possible that the fake voice had been the Puppet? It was certainly there and it could've possibly been awake, but he hadn't heard it make coherent noises other than chimes and static before. There also wasn't a motive, unless it was trying to get rid of Sam. Mike mentally swore as he noticed how much all of this was making sense. It had the time to do it, it had the motive, it was just the ability to do so that made everything so horrifying. The Puppet played puppeteer, hanging them both by phone cords.
"You okay?" Sam asked and Mike decided to be honest, "It could've been the Puppet." Sam didn't look like he believed it at first, but then a look of alarm passed his face. He inhaled sharply, "Mike… You called it the Marionette during the phone call." Silence set in between them. There was a possibility it could still be a human guard, maybe the Fitzgerald fellow, but it seemed very unlikely. All of the evidence pointed to one subject, and that was the animatronic. Mike felt betrayed, felt confused, and felt… like it was very fortunate that he left his phone at home.
He reached for the office phone and handed it to Sam. "Call my cell." Sam stared down at the red phone, "Uh… Any particular reason why?... Wait." He was catching on, but Mike explained anyway. "My cell's at the house. You call and if I answer the phone we'll have all the evidence we need. We'll have the Puppet by the strings." Sam raised a brow, "You must be mad if you're making comments like that. That's really below your standard." Mike narrowed his gaze just a little and Sam started to dial the number into the phone. Mike waited, tapping his fingers on the table irritably.
Then Sam spoke, "Oh, Mike, hey… Look, I know I wasn't supposed to call, but I needed to check on you after last night…" There was talking on the line, Mike could hear it from where he was, and he felt his temperature boil. "Well, at least he left…" Sam continue until Mike held his hand out, seeking the receiver. Sam eagerly handed it over, not wanting to play along any longer. Mike lifted the receiver to his ear and, as disturbing as it was, listened to his own voice. "-and I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because of that."
It sounded so much like him and was very buyable. It made everything so much worse. Mike clenched his teeth as he heard the other finish. "I'll call you whenever it's safe, alright? Don't call, don't come over, because it'll put you in danger." Mike couldn't hold back anymore, "Surprise." With that single word everything changed. There was a static, a noise like a gasp, and suddenly the call ended. Mike practically slammed the phone on the receiver and turned to leave, "I have to go pop a weasel." He grabbed the Fredbear, threw it back in the car, and headed off.
Mike had to hold back to keep from speeding home. He just felt like he had been lied to, again betrayed, and a small part of him had a lingering dread. It had gone behind his back and manipulated him. Suddenly he realized why he forgot his phone; it hadn't been on the table where it usually was. Somehow instead of realizing this he completely forgot, and it annoyed him. This was why it hadn't thrown a fit when he left this morning, it had already believed it nudged Sam out of the way. And this was after Mike had explained the night before that he trusted Sam.
In fact, this meant that it was only hours after that when it made the call. Mike frowned bitterly as he pulled into the driveway and stepped out, unlocking the door and heading inside. The Puppet didn't wait for him at the door. "There's no point in hiding. We live in the same house, we're going to run into each other eventually," Mike called out in an attempt to coax the animatronic out. Naturally, it didn't just appear, and so the former security guard went on the hunt. The first place was the Puppet's bedroom and he looked around.
"You're just making this more difficult and dragging this out longer. Stop hiding from me." There was nothing under the bed or in the bed. He checked the box only to see the mound of stuffed plush toys. Then he headed into the bathroom, nothing, then the bedrooms, nothing, and finally in the master bedroom where his focused turned to the closet. "Of course it would go back in there." Mike opened the closet and peered upwards to the attic entrance. It didn't look disturbed, but he couldn't put it past another trick, especially now that he knew the Puppet was very capable of it.
He dragged the file cabinet closer and used it as a boost to get into the attic crawlspace. There he turned on his flashlight and looked around. There were mostly boxes, old decorations for the Pizzeria, boxes of newspapers, and hundreds of shadowy places that the black and white being could be hiding. He lifted himself fully inside and shuffled around. He approached one of the stacks of newspapers and looked over it, then to the actual newspaper itself. The bold headline caught his interest, "Missing children connected to character themed restaurants."
This was the full paper to the clips he saw in the warehouse. Interest filled him as he continued to glance through. More headlines stood out. "Child bitten by animatronic in critical condition", "Freddy's reopens to satisfactory reviews', and the last one that caught his attention the most, "Man killed in suit accident." Mike tugged the newspaper closer and read over the beginning of the article.
"Henry Johnson, thirty-six, was killed Monday afternoon at Fredbear's Family Diner in an animatronic suit accident. The owner of the restaurant, Fredrick Fazmann, claims that the incident was caused by a fault in the suit. 'We are very careful with our suits and instruct our employees on how to use them safely. We'll be investigating this, but for now we're thinking that it was a fault in manufacturing,' Fazmann claims. There's no negligence or foul play suspected at the moment. For the moment, Fredbear's Family Diner will be closing its doors for a short while to recover from the incident."
Mike wondered if this suit was one of the 'Springlock' suits he had heard of. He noticed the name of the restaurant, "Fredbear's… Was that the suit that was retired?" He checked over the two other newspapers before grabbing them and a few more, hugging them to his chest, and continuing the climb around the attic. First thing was first, he needed to find the Puppet, and he continued to crawl around in the crawlspace. He shined his light on every shadow and looked behind every dusty box, but could find nothing.
Something suddenly mentally struck him, and epiphany, and he huffed, "Damn it." Mike frowned more firmly and made his way out of the attic. He dropped the newspapers on the bed and made a beeline back into the Puppet's room, back to the box. This time he actually started to take the dolls out of the box. Sure enough, underneath a Bonnie plush he caught a patch of white stripes on black fabric. "I see you. You can come out now or I'm going to dig you out. I'll give you the chance to save what little dignity we have left." After a few moments the Puppet started to rise out of the box.
Mike had his arms crossed firmly to show his disappointment as the Puppet rose before him. It had the same smile as always and watched attentively. "It's good to see you putting your spare time to such good use," Mike sarcastically pointed out. "Laying to Sam, lying to me, and I know what you're thinking. 'I didn't lie to you directly so how did I lie to you?' You know for a fact that lying to Sam lied through to me, about this whole fake story about some random guy who doesn't exist, after I told you how close I was to Sam. I don't even know what to think!"
The Puppet aimed its head down a little more to stare at the floor. "And I trusted you! Which is unbelievable, I don't even trust my own mother, and then you do this. For what? What exactly did you get out of this, other than getting rid of Sam, who doesn't even live here?" Mike huffed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Then he waved it off and turned away towards the door. "Just forget it." There was more he wanted to say but he knew that for a various amount of reasons he simply couldn't. He was a little less frustrated, at least, and that's all he could ask for.
"I think you're overreacting."
Mike couldn't help but jolt upwards at the voice. It suddenly invaded the conversation and alarmed him fully. Slowly he looked back towards the Puppet in the box. It hadn't moved from its spot and hadn't lifted its head at all. "…Excuse me?" Mike asked further, trying to make sure he had just heard that correctly. Or, more precisely, he had heard it period. The animatronic moved in a slight shrug, "I think you're taking this more personally than he would." Mike responded the only way he knew how, "Oh my God…" The Puppet looked to him and shivered with a chime; light laughter.
The Puppet's actual voice was nothing that Mike would've ever expected. Mike probably would have anticipated one of three voices; either he expected a voice that was a constant mimic of his own, one that was in two tone like something out of a horror movie, or some sort of clown or jester sounding thing. None of these fit. It anything, the Puppet sounded too normal. If it had called Sam like this it would've definitely passed as a normal human, and just that alone made it so uncanny that it was a shock. It was soft, light, and inoffensive; it shouldn't have come out of that unmoving mouth.
"When did you start talking?" Mike questioned. "And I mean talking, not whatever happened with the call." For a moment it didn't seem like the Puppet actually intended to continue speaking. It fully intended to casually suggest Mike was taking everything too far and then fall completely silent. The former security guard couldn't let that happen. "Just now, but I've always been able to speak." And it sounded more amused now as it explained this, like it was nothing at all. Its emotions were clearly present before him on the voice while its face remained the same.
Some things were blatantly obvious though. As strangely unfitting as the Puppet's voice was, there was no denying that it was clearly a more masculine voice. 'It' wasn't as genderless as Mike had originally treated it like it was. He stared at the Puppet, the Puppet stared back, and finally Mike spoke. "I don't even know what I'm supposed to say to that." Indeed, he didn't, and he tried to keep himself relatively put together. "Is there any reason why you were giving me the silent treatment, or do you save it for special occasions? Like phone calls." He still wasn't letting him off the hook.
The Puppet didn't answer at first. Its face didn't change, but it fidgeted slightly and somehow the man swore he could visibly see it become uncomfortable. "I just haven't. I haven't had anything to say." There was a slight hesitance in his voice, like he was only saying it to answer the question. Mike decided to let this question drop. "Plausible enough… But you're talking now, so something must have changed… I guess I caught you in the act, it wasn't like you could play the mute card again." The Puppet eased and the mood lightened with a chime, "I guess not! Not that I intended to be caught…"
Mike felt a lot more comfortable when he didn't know what it was thinking. He suddenly realized that as the conversation began and the continuing small talk didn't help. He finally raised his hands and turned, "Okay, I've got to go find my sanity." As he started out of the room he could hear the Puppet move out of the box and as he opened the door it spoke again. The pleasantly playful tone in its voice was gone and replaced with a tentatively concerned one. "Where are you going?" There was meekness there that wasn't present earlier when he first spoke.
"Into the master bedroom. I'm going to sneak Sam in through the window and we're going to pop antacids," the last part was obvious sarcasm on Mike's part. The Puppet was calmed but fell back into silence once more. Mike paused in the doorway for another moment before continuing through. He needed to get some distance to clear his head. This was all too much; he hadn't even properly finished telling it off and now he had to escape to get his bearings on the situation at hand. Maybe he would just read over those newspapers and get some satisfaction from the answers they provided.
He didn't know what was worse; how calm the Puppet was about the call, or how terrified it sounded when it thought he was going to leave.
Mable: I'm actually already about halfway through the next chapter, but I'm expecting some revisions before posting. The only problem I tend to have is that most of my writing is done late night, early morning when I haven't gone to bed yet. It's the easiest time to write without distractions and concerns, but sometimes my tiredness will be seen in the work with grammar errors. I only bring it up because I'm stalling. Anyway, the next chapter will be posted soon!