WARNING THIS STORY IS A WORK OF FICTION; I DO NOT OWN FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY. SCOTT CAWTHON IS THE LUCKY BASTARD OWNS ALL RIGHTS.
WARNING THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THE FOLLOWING. RAPE, CHILD ABUSE, CHILD ABDUCTION, DRUGS AND ALCOHOL, GORE, MURDER, AND *Drags out glitter cannon* LEMONS. IF YOU DO NOT WANNA SEE HUMANS ON ANIMATRONICS. I SUGGEST YOU GO TO THE MLP STORIES. THEY GET FREAKY OVER THERE.*waggles eyebrows* Without further ado. *Fires Glitter Cannon On YOU* Enjoy
Phillip's POV
As I stepped through the doors of the run-down strip club, my sharp gaze fell upon the small room that greeted me. A front desk, once a place of indulgence and sinful desires, now lay abandoned, choked with littered trash. I surveyed the room, my flashlight cutting through the darkness; rats scurried across the grimy floor, their beady eyes glinting in the dancing light. The walls were adorned with torn posters, their once vibrant colors now faded and peeling, showing sexy ladies dancing on poles. My eyes caught sight of double doors slightly agar, their surface tarnished with years of neglect. Beyond those doors looked to be the main part of the strip club. To my right, a unisex bathroom stood, tempting me with its dimly lit entrance. Curiosity tugged at me, and against my better judgment, I decided to stick my head inside.
As I stepped into the bathrooms, a wave of revulsion crashed over me, engulfing my senses. The sorry state of the bathroom had me just staring in shock. The sinks, once gleaming with porcelain elegance, now lay broken and cracked, their shards scattered across the grimy tiles. The plumbing system, clearly damaged, had become a gateway for toxic gases to infiltrate the room, intensifying the already overpowering stench of shit that hung in the air like a suffocating fog. Evidently, this place had become a haven for people to break into and destroy, reveling in the opportunity to unleash their destructive nature upon the abandoned club.
My hand instinctively shot up to cover my mouth and nose, desperate to shield myself from the repugnant odors that assaulted my senses. The sickly combination of decaying matter and noxious fumes clung to the air, invading every breath I took. As I left the bathrooms, stumbling over trash, gasping for air, and gagging from the overwhelming stench, I couldn't help but wish that Auric, my ethereal companion, could experience the foul odors that assaulted my senses.
I sent a silent message to her, hoping that somehow, she could perceive what I was experiencing. To my surprise, a soft chuckle echoed in my mind, followed by her response. "Nope, Phillip," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Fortunately, I can control what I feel through your senses. But I can imagine it's not pleasant." I frowned, still feeling the lingering taste of the putrid air on my tongue. "Lucky you," I thought through clenched teeth, shifting my gaze to the doors ahead.
With a final gag, I reached into my pocket, retrieving a cigarette and my lighter. With a flick of my thumb, a small flame danced to life, illuminating the dark space before me. As I brought the cigarette to my lips, I decided that I may as well open the double doors in front of me and face whatever lay beyond. As my fingers brushed against the cool metal handle, a faint tremor coursed through my body, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. I braced myself for what awaited me beyond those doors and pushed. The hinges groaned in protest, their rusty voices echoing through the abandoned building. As the doors swung open, they revealed a scene that both captivated and repelled me.
My gaze fell upon a broken staircase to my right, completely barricaded by a once-proud collection of shattered chairs and splintered tables. It was a gauntlet of destruction or an obstacle course for those brave enough that blocked my way to the upper floors. I really fucking hoped that was like that for a reason and not some ominous shit.
Past the staircase, I caught sight of flickering signs reading 'Men' and 'Women,' an invitation to what I would now call the bathrooms of horror; the memories of the revolting bathroom I had just escaped flashed before my eyes, causing me to recoil."Fuck that," I mouthed to myself, the silent words mingling with the smoke that escaped my lips. I had already survived one bathroom of horror tonight. No way I was doing it again so soon. I just prayed one of these bathrooms was not what I was supposed to repair for the animatronics to shower.
I turned my head to the left, and my eyes fell upon a long bar, its once polished surface now marred by the destructive force that had ravaged this place. With each step towards the bar, my boots kicked up debris and trash, the sound echoing through the desolate space. Broken shards of glass and shattered bottles littered the floor, a symphony of destruction that added to the eerie ambiance of the abandoned strip club. Leaning over the bar, I surveyed the wreckage that surrounded me. Shelves that once held an assortment of liquors and spirits now lay in disarray; their contents are long gone. The dim light from my flashlight cast twisted shadows on the destroyed shelves, further accentuating the despair that hung in the air.
My eyes caught sight of a lone bottle of Jack Daniels, still intact amidst the chaos. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I reached out and grabbed it, reveling in my small victory. I twisted off the cap and brought the bottle to my lips. However, before I could bring the bottle to my lips, a familiar voice echoed in my mind. Auric's ethereal presence graced my thoughts, her concern evident. "Is now really the time to seek solace in a drink, Phillip?" she queried, her tone laced with both understanding and caution.
For a moment, I hesitated. Her words carried weight, piercing through the fog of my anger and pain. But then, a defiant glimmer sparked in my eyes. My resolve hardened, and I made my decision. "Yes," I responded, my thoughts filled with a bitter determination. "Now is the perfect time." Sinking into one of the remaining bar stools, I raised the bottle to my lips, feeling the cold glass press against my skin.
The liquid burned as it coursed down my throat, igniting a fire within me that matched the pent-up rage and resentment lingering in my soul. In that moment, I savored the taste of rebellion, relishing in the temporary escape it provided.
I spun on the bar stool, my gaze sweeping across the stage area, my heart heavy with a mixture of curiosity and dread. Moth-eaten curtains hung in tattered strips; their once vibrant colors now faded to shades of indigo and burgundy. The stage itself was a haunting sight, with its stripper poles covered in a thick layer of grime, some even fallen over, leaning like broken soldiers in defeat. Only one remained clean and spotless, which I thought was a little weird. Below the stage, broken chairs and tables were scattered around the room, remnants of a forgotten era when this place had been alive with laughter and music.
Flickering stage lights, hanging precariously from a few nearly severed cables, cast eerie shadows across the dilapidated setting. They swayed gently as if dancing, threatening to plunge the room into darkness at any moment. A sense of impending doom loomed in the air, made even more palpable by the disheveled state of the surroundings.
My eyes shifted toward an ATM machine positioned to the left of the stage. It stood there, broken and forgotten; it seemed that whoever had attempted to access the machine had left their task unfinished, for it remained closed. Perhaps they had been deterred by the animatronics that were here, unable to complete the task at hand.
Taking another sip from the bottle, its bitter taste clinging to my tongue, I felt a jolt of anxiety course through my body as my phone buzzed, interrupting the silence that enveloped the room. I fumbled for my phone, my hands trembling ever so slightly. A notification flashed on the screen, and I couldn't help but feel a touch of unease as I read the sender's name.
It was a text from Mr. Afton, the sinister man who had duped me into this nightmarish project.
The text message stared back at me, its words dripping with malevolence. "I forgot to mention, my dear Phillip. You might want to find your way to your room by 12:00 AM and stay there till 7:00 AM, lest the night reveals its true horrors. I wouldn't forget about the shower either."
A chill ran down my spine as I glanced at the time on my phone. It was only 8:00 PM, but the text brought nothing but frustration, a reminder of an obligation I had not been made aware of. Mr. Afton's cryptic words echoed in my mind, warning me of the consequences of not being in my room before midnight. My anger grew, bubbling beneath the surface as I read his uncaring words. And with an involuntary motion, I flung the bottle from my hand, watching as it shattered against the neglected floor.
As shards of glass skittered across the ground, a faint echo reached my ears. Scuttling sounds reverberated through the vents on the ceiling, taunting me with their unseen presence. A chill ran down my spine as I raised my flashlight, casting its beam into the dark recesses above. Yet, my searching gaze met only emptiness, leaving a lingering unease in its wake.
I hopped off the bar stool, my eyes scanning the surroundings. Trash littered the floor, and the faint scent of decay lingered in the air. The doors to the left of the bar seemed dark and foreboding, but as I glanced to the right of the stage, something caught my eye. A small room tucked away in the corner drew me in with an irresistible pull. My footsteps echoed through the silence as I made my way towards it, my forgotten cigarette clenched between my teeth.
Entering the room, I found myself in a gloomy generator room. The flickering light of the single bulb hanging from the ceiling cast eerie shadows on the worn-out walls. The generator itself looked remarkably new, indicating recent work. I gazed around the room, my eyes landing on a makeshift bed against the far wall. It appeared someone had been using it, but I dared not think about who or why.
Relighting the cigarette in my mouth, the ember glowing in the dimly lit room, I turned to leave, my senses alert. But just as I reached the doorway, a flicker of movement caught the corner of my eye. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest, as I saw a pair of eyes peering at me from a vent in the ceiling. Trying to focus my gaze, I squinted, but the eyes vanished before I could make sense of them.
In that fleeting moment, a shudder crawled up my spine, a chill settling in my bones. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. Without hesitation, I reached out to Auric. "Can you sense anything?" I asked, my thoughts directed toward my only friend
Auric's voice echoed in my mind, soft and distant. "Remember, I cannot tap into my powers within the confines of this building," she replied, a hint of frustration coloring her words.
I left the generator room behind, its rhythmic hum growing fainter with each step. The flickering lights above illuminated the path ahead, casting eerie shadows that danced on the cracked walls. Passing through the broken tables below the stage, I made my way toward the double doors past the bar. The debris underfoot crunched with every step, a solemn reminder of the forgotten revelry that once filled the air. The air was heavy with the scent of decay, and each breath felt like a futile battle against impending demise.
Pulling open the set of doors, I found myself in a dimly lit corridor. Private rooms, I assumed, where the club's customers had been whisked away to indulge in their desires. The lights above flickered, casting an uncertain glow on the decaying walls. A chill ran down my spine as I ventured further down the hallway.
The corridor split before me, one path leading left and the other straight through. I aimed my flashlight left, its beam cutting through the darkness to reveal an ATM at the end of the hall. Claw marks marred its surface as if someone had tried to gut the poor machine. A wave of unease washed over me, convincing me that this was not the path I wanted to take. I turned away, my heart pounding in my chest.
Choosing the path straight ahead, I cautiously made my way forward. The hallway wound its way towards the back of the building, doors on each side beckoning me to explore their secrets. I couldn't resist the temptation, my curiosity overpowering any sense of caution that lingered within me.
The first room I peered into seemed oddly pristine compared to the rest of the building. Its dimly lit interior revealed an old lap-dancing room, the walls adorned with peeling wallpaper and fading mirror panels. A makeshift bed, covered with blankets, sat in the corner, empty, thank God. Goosebumps prickled on my skin as I imagined what was using this room to sleep in; someone liked a clean room.
Moving on, I cautiously approached the second room. Once again, the sight that greeted me was one of eerie cleanliness. Another lap-dancing room, its mirrored walls offered a distorted reflection of the desolation outside. A similar makeshift bed occupied a corner of the room, suggesting this was a hall of bedrooms someone or something was sleeping in.
My heart raced as I approached the third room. It seemed to pulsate with unsettling energy, tugging at the frayed threads of my sanity. The door creaked open, revealing a small room with a sign that read "Shower Room." Memories of the horror I had encountered in the previous bathroom flooded my mind, threatening to suffocate me with their weight.
I held my breath as I cautiously stepped into the shower room, praying that my luck had taken a turn for the better. The restroom I had explored had definitely left me with PTSD, like that shit had been the stuff of nightmares. But as the dim light of my flashlight illuminated the space, I was taken aback by what I saw—solid LED lights lined the ceiling, casting a bright glow over a perfectly clean and surprisingly modern room.
My eyes widened in shock. This was a stark contrast to the state of the rest of the building. Clearly, someone had put in the effort to ensure this space was clean and pristine. Two shower stalls stood at the far end of the room; a quick glance inside each stall revealed that the plumbing had yet to be finished. This must be the first task that had entrusted to me to fix the plumbing for the yet-to-be-seen animatronics.
My attention was then drawn to a glass room adjacent to the shower stalls. It seemed to hold some advanced machinery, its purpose unknown to me. Intrigued, I approached the glass walls, pressing my hands against the cool surface. I could feel a faint hum resonating through the room, a pulsating energy that hinted at the power lying dormant within.
I peered inside, my eyes scanning the intricate mechanisms contained within. Tubes and wires snaked their way through the machinery, connecting to unfamiliar devices and glowing consoles. It was a sight that both fascinated and frightened me, leaving a shiver trailing down my spine.
Who had created this marvel, and for what purpose? And why had they placed it here? These questions swirled in my mind, stirring up a mix of curiosity and apprehension. The shower room itself held so many secrets, its clean facade throwing me for a loop.
As I turned my attention back to the surroundings, I noticed various signs of wear and tear that persisted despite the room's initial allure. Faint cracks marred the shiny tiles, and the air held a faint scent of dampness, reminding me of the leaks from the roof that had plagued this establishment before its transformation.
Undeterred by these imperfections, I continued my exploration. My fingers trailed along the walls, feeling the peeling wallpaper and feigning interest in the faded mirror panels. Each touch seemed to whisper secrets to me, tales of debauchery and desires that echoed through the empty spaces.
I stepped out of the shower room, my footsteps echoing through the dimly lit hallway. To my left, I could see the rooms I had already checked, their doors slightly ajar, revealing nothing of interest. Ahead of me, the hallway stretched, leading to two closed doors on the right. A flickering light overhead cast eerie shadows on the worn-out carpet beneath my feet.
Curiosity piqued, I approached the first door on the right. As I pushed it open, the scent of musty tools and stale air wafted through the air. My eyes scanned the room, taking in the sight of shelves stacked with various equipment and supplies. It seemed as if the old man they had hired, the one who mysteriously vanished, had left behind his tools. A devious smirk crept across my face as I realized that I would be claiming these as my own. After all, a man could never have too many tools.
Moving on to the next room, I found myself surrounded by an assortment of power tools and a dusty workbench. A thick layer of dust coated some of the tools; the mysterious guy did not seem to take care of his shit. As I surveyed the room, a feeling of satisfaction washed over me. These tools would be a welcome addition to my collection.
With the exploration of these rooms complete, I turned my attention back to the hallway. Standing at the end, I noticed that it veered to the left, beckoning me forward into the unknown. At the end of the hall, my gaze fell upon the same ATM I had encountered earlier, claw marks still etched onto its surface. A shiver ran down my spine as I considered the source of those marks, my mind conjuring images of monstrous creatures lurking within the confines of this forsaken building.
Driven by a mixture of curiosity and an unsettling sense of obligation, I approached the final door next to the ATM. The door, unlike the others, was made of solid steel, its surface dented and scratched. It stood open, inviting me to step inside.
Auric's POV
I watched through Phillip's eyes, feeling an unwavering sense of irritation and helplessness. I wanted nothing more than to go onto the property and protect Phillip from the impending danger. But Mr. Afton, that vile man, had made it clear - I was forbidden from setting foot inside. My powers couldn't reach beyond the boundaries he had imposed, and it frustrated me beyond measure.
Phillip, unaware of my lie, walked cautiously through the run-down strip club, his flashlight in hand. The air was heavy with the stench of decay and misery, every breath tainted with the memories of the horrors this place had witnessed. Trash littered the floor, strewn across broken furniture and discarded remnants of what once was a proud strip club.
Darkness loomed in the corners, the flickering lights casting eerie shadows that danced mischievously along the cracked walls. Holes gaped all through the building, staring. Puddles of water stood in spots where the roof had leaked before its recent repair, offering distorted reflections of the twisted reality surrounding him.
As Phillip continued to navigate through the desolate building, I couldn't help but feel grateful that, for now, at least, he had found his room without encountering any of the animatronics. Their hatred for humans remained a mystery to him; only I knew the truth.
With each step, I silently urged him forward, longing for him to find solace amongst the wreckage of his own life. Phillip had always been on the fringes of society, despised and mistreated by a world that had failed to understand him. His heart had always been so cold and detached, hardened by the relentless cruelty he had endured.
Phillip's POV
As I cautiously stepped into the room, a flood of emotions washed over me. The walls were painted a faded shade of blue, and the scent of fresh paint still lingered in the air, mingling with the musty odor that permeated the rest of the building. It was a stark contrast to the dimly lit hallway outside, and for a moment, I allowed myself to be swept away by the unfamiliarity of it all.
Walking further into the room, I glanced at the clock perched on the bedside table. Its hands pointed to 9:57, a reminder that time had slipped away from me while I had been exploring this hellhole. Almost two hours had passed since I first set foot in this building, and yet it felt both like an eternity and a mere blink of an eye.
The room was surprisingly well-furnished, considering the state of the rest of the establishment. A king-sized bed dominated the center, its sheets pristine and inviting. On the other side of the room, a small toilet was tucked away behind a tattered curtain, offering a semblance of privacy. A nearby kitchenette boasted a minuscule sink and a coffee maker, its intoxicating aroma wafting through the air, tantalizing my senses.
As I ventured deeper into the room, my eyes fell upon a worn, leather-bound notebook resting on the bedside table. It beckoned to me, its pages yearning to be filled with thoughts, dreams, and perhaps even a glimmer of hope that had eluded me for so long. My gaze lingered on its weathered cover, and I knew that this notebook held the potential to be my confidante – a silent witness to the tumultuous journey that lay ahead.
With a trembling hand, I reached out to grasp the notebook, feeling its weight and history in my palm. The touch of leather against my skin was a welcome sensation, grounding me in the present moment. I could almost imagine the whispers of the stories it held within its pages, waiting patiently to be told.
The touch of the weathered leather sent a shiver down my spine as if the long-forgotten memories hidden within were seeping into my very soul. It was a gateway into the mind of someone who had once walked the same path I now found myself on, a path laden with shadows and uncertainty. I couldn't help but wonder what tales awaited me in the pages that lay before me, what whispered secrets and silent cries for help I would discover.
I opened the notebook, its pages revealing the thoughts and experiences of the man who had been here before me. Each entry bore witness to his struggles, his frustrations, and the horrors he had faced. They spoke of dark activities, of transforming a rundown strip club into a new Freddy Fazbear Pizzeria. The words painted a vivid picture of a sinister man that had lured him into a trap he had unknowingly stepped into.
As my eyes scanned the faded ink, I realized the immense amount of work that needed to be done. The man's words dripped with exhaustion, with the weight of an endless nightmare that seemed to consume his every waking moment. The notebook chronicled his descent into madness, detailing the animatronics he had been tasked with handling. It described some strange behavior, their mistrust, and hatred towards humans, and their inexplicable upgrades.
With a sense of unease, I flipped to the last entry, dated two weeks ago. The words on the page trembled with fear, with a growing sense of desperation. The man confessed that he could no longer bear the torment inflicted by the animatronics, that he feared they would finally get him during the night. He spoke of a plan to take one of them with him to somehow escape their clutches.
A wave of uncertainty washed over me as I read those haunting words. Should I be worried? Would I experience the same torment and despair that had driven this man to madness? Auric's voice echoed in my mind, her words dripping with a mixture of amusement and reassurance. "Oh, Phillip, dear, you should have no worries," she telepathically chuckled. "After all, what could possibly scare someone who believes they've already seen the worst the world has to offer?"
Her words, though laced with humor, did little to alleviate the nagging doubts that echoed in the depths of my mind. But I trusted Auric, clinging to her presence as my only solace in this disconcerting place.
Closing the notebook, I let out a heavy sigh and flopped onto the bed, exhaustion seeping into my bones. I reached for the pack of cigarettes in my pocket and grabbed one, the flickering light casting eerie shadows across the worn-out furniture. As I allowed the smoke to curl around me, I pondered the choices that led me here to this forsaken building.
I sat up with a groan, the creaking bed frame protesting my movements. With a flick of my wrist, I extinguished the glowing tip of the cigarette, stubbing it out in an old Coke bottle on the nightstand. The room was shrouded in darkness, save for the intermittent flicker of the dim overhead light. Its feeble glow cast eerie shadows on the worn-out furniture and peeling wallpaper.
Aching muscles protested as I stood, my body burdened by weary exhaustion that begged for respite. As I stumbled towards the kitchenette, the hollow emptiness of the cabinets mocked my feeble attempts to find food. Dust danced in the air, mingling with the stench that hung in the room..
My gaze fell upon a tablet perched on the edge of the cabinets. Dust coated its surface, a testament to its abandonment. Curiosity piqued, I reached out and retrieved it, the cool plastic slipping into my grasp. I pressed the power button, its gentle hum breaking the eerie silence that clung to the air.
As the screen flickered to life, a series of grainy images filled the display. It seemed that the tablet was connected to a network of cameras, Something I HAd failed to see when walking through it. I swiped through the cameras, my eyes widening as I realized the extent of their reach.
The first camera showed a glimpse of the parking lot; it was shrouded in darkness with the occasional flicker of distant streetlights. It revealed the small entrance I had ventured through, its weathered doors seemingly ominous in the dim light. Shadows danced along the cracked pavement.
Moving on, I switched to the camera that overlooked the stage area—a commanding view that surveyed the entire room. Dust-coated tables and chairs were scattered haphazardly, a testament to the building's previous life as a strip club. The ancient stage, once flaunting the allure of seduction, now stood empty and forlorn.
My curiosity drew me further as I viewed the cameras dedicated to the private room hallways. Each hall seemed to wrap around to my room, the dim lighting casting an eerie ambiance. The walls bore the scars of time—cracks and peeling paint serving as silent witnesses to the building's slow decay.
But it was the next camera that puzzled me the most—a kitchen that I had never laid eyes upon. It stood dormant, it's rusted appliances and broken countertops telling a story of neglect, just like the rest of the building; I would need to find it in the morning and see how bad it truly was.
And then, as if to challenge my already frayed sanity, a camera labeled "Shower Room" glowed on the screen. I frowned, perplexed by its inclusion. What purpose could explain why the shower room would have a camera? The final cameras revealed an upstairs area rendered inaccessible by a faulty staircase. The camera feed, glitching with static, showed nothing.
As I absorbed the details offered by the tablet, apprehension gnawed at the edges of my mind. Something felt off about this place, about the animatronics that supposedly dwelled within its walls. I had yet to see or hear any of them, and that was kinda worrying.
As I turned away from the kitchenette, my eyes caught sight of a small switch next to the door I had walked through. Without thinking, I reached out and pressed it, curious to see what it did. And with a sudden jolt, the steel door slammed down with a resounding boom, sealing me inside my room.
I stood there in stunned silence, unable to comprehend what had just happened. My heart raced, and an anxious knot formed in the pit of my stomach. I glanced around the dimly lit room, my eyes desperate for some reassurance. My thoughts turned to Auric, "What the hell was that?" I demanded, my mental voice tinged with frustration. Auric's response echoed in my mind, a voice filled with uncertainty. "I have no clue, Phillip.I don't know anything about this building."
A sense of unease washed over me as doubts began to gnaw at the fringes of my mind. How much did I truly know about Auric? For someone who claimed to be trapped in this forsaken town, she seemed strangely helpless in unraveling its mysteries. The thought lingered, nagging at my consciousness, as I questioned whether she had been truthful with me or merely another person using me.
Lost in my thoughts, my ears pricked up at the sound of a timid knock reverberating through the room. Startled, I hurriedly grabbed my tablet and opened the camera feed. A patch of red flitted past the corner of the screen, disappearing down the hall. Confusion and curiosity warred within me as I set the tablet back down.
Turning away from the unnerving images, I cautiously approached the door, anticipation tingling along my skin. Another knock shattered the silence, this time even more timid, like a whisper in the night. Frustration gnawed at me, and I hit the switch to open the door, ready to confront whoever was playing this twisted game with me. But the hallway stood empty, devoid of any presence save for the flickering lights and the peeling wallpaper.
Bewildered, I ran a hand through my hair, frustration mingling with fear in the depths of my soul. Time seemed to mock me as I glanced at the clock by my bedside. Its hands showed the time to be 10:43. Mr. Afton had told me to be in my room by midnight, and I was unsure what to do.
I reached out and pressed the switch again, sealing myself within the confines of my new room. The heavy steel door slammed shut with a resounding thud. With a sigh, I retrieved the crumpled pack of cigarettes from my pocket; My fingers fumbled to light one, the tip illuminating my face for a brief moment before fading into the murky darkness. The smoke curled upwards, forming ghostly tendrils that danced in the dim light, their ethereal beauty a stark contrast to the desolation surrounding me.
A gnawing hunger panged in my gut as I took a drag, the bitter taste mingling with the heavy air. I scanned the small room, searching for any sign of food. To my dismay, there was none. A bitter laugh slipped from my lips as I crushed the cigarette against the ashtray in frustration. It was nothing new to me going to bed hungry.
My restless eyes wandered, and at that moment, I decided I would relieve myself and go to bed. As I pulled the curtain aside, my eyes landed on a vent above the toilet. It was sealed shut with hastily screwed screws; a surge of questions flooded my mind. Why was it here? why did this building have so many damn vents? But for now, those answers remained elusive.
Returning to the comfortable bed, I flopped down in an exasperated heap, clothes still on. Fatigue settled in my bones, demanding rest despite the nerves roiling within. Closing my eyes, I wondered if I should tell Auric goodnight, but I decided against it. Something about Auric was gnawing at me.
As I succumbed to the embrace of slumber, nightmares whisked me away to a twisted version of reality. I found myself standing in the cursed bathroom once again, the putrid stench assaulting my senses. The walls seemed to close in on me, the flickering lights casting eerie shadows upon the faded tiles.
Phillips' POV
I tossed and turned all night in my bed, the sounds outside the door waking me up throughout the night, heavy footsteps on the carpet, and whispers. It felt as though the animatronics had just walked the hall outside my door, conversing with each other. The constant footsteps, the distant whispers, all of it played tricks on my exhausted mind.
As the first rays of dawn sneaked through my skylight, a detail I had overlooked the night before, I realized I couldn't ignore my rumbling stomach any longer. With a groan, I rubbed my temples, desperately attempting to rouse myself from sleep.
"Are you there, Auric?" I whispered into the quiet recesses of my mind, hoping to feel the comforting presence of the only friend I had. A moment of silence passed before she replied, her ethereal voice soothing my weary soul.
"I'm here, Phillip," she said, her voice filled with warmth and concern. "Did you manage to rest at all?" I shook my head, even though she couldn't see. It was an empty gesture, a futile attempt to convey my frustration.
Dragging myself out of bed, I stumbled towards the small kitchenette, the flickering light revealing empty cabinets. I released a frustrated grunt, I needed my coffee, and well my stomach was growling in protest. With urgency, I headed towards the restroom, a curtain providing false privacy for the toilet. As my weary eyes glanced at the small screen of my phone, its digital readout displayed 6:32. Stumbling out of the little bathroom; I walked over to the nightstand.
Grabbing my trusty notepad, I flicked the switch of the steel door that sealed my room and stepped out into the hallway. The feeble sunlight filtering through boarded-up windows illuminated the passage, making it easier to navigate compared to the ominous darkness of the night before. Still half-asleep, I veered to the left, passing by the rooms that housed the various tools needed for the refurbishment of this wretched place.
Entering the pristine shower room sent shivers down my spine. I knew I had to assess the two stalls and figure out what was necessary to bring them back to life. Perhaps, if I managed to get them up and running, the Fazbear gang would be less inclined to murder me.
Lowering myself to one knee, I carefully ran my hands along the shower plumbing, taking note of what was missing. Both stalls required shower handles, and I would need to connect the fittings to ensure the water flowed smoothly. It seemed like a straightforward task, a Piece of cake, right? With a determined grunt, I rose to my feet and made my way to the sinks, testing them to confirm they had water. To my relief, they did.
I stepped out of the shower room and made a left. The dimly lit hallway stretched before me, the faint sound of rats scurrying around echoing in the distance. As I glanced back at the rooms I had left cracked open the night before, I noticed that both of them were now tightly shut. A shiver ran down my spine.
"They're probably sleeping in those rooms," Auric's voice floated into my mind. "It's strange that you haven't run into any of them yet."
I nodded, my eyes darting anxiously from one end of the corridor to the other. "Yeah, it's weird. I mean, from what I've seen online, those animatronics were these hulking figures back in the day, glitching out and munching on kids. What could have changed in twenty-plus years?"
Auric's presence in my mind offered little solace; her voice tinged with an unyielding optimism. "Phillip, you have to understand that the animatronics may not be as bad as you think. Perhaps they've been through some rough stuff as well. Try to have some empathy; see the good in them."
I scoffed, the bitterness in my heart boiling over. "Empathy? That's a luxury I can't afford. I've been kicked around and treated like garbage my whole life. They're just soulless machines programmed to entertain kids."
Auric's soothing voice persisted, her words laced with compassion. "Remember, Phillip, you have to break the cycle. Hate and anger only perpetuate the darkness. If you can show them kindness, maybe things will change. Maybe you'll find a way to break free from your own personal hell."
Shaking off my unease, I pressed forward, stomping past the two sealed chambers. If the animatronics intended to keep me awake all night, then I would return the favor. I was determined to survive this twisted venture, no matter the cost. Stepping through the doors that led into the main stage room, I beheld the true extent of the damage. Sunlight penetrated the makeshift barriers that covered the boarded-up windows, casting haunting shadows across the barren stage.
Ignoring the eerie stage, I made my way to the long bar that now lay in ruins. I took a seat on the same barstool I had occupied the night before, desperately needing a moment to gather my thoughts. Pulling out my worn notepad, I flipped it open to a fresh page and began scribbling down a list of stuff I needed to buy to get started.
Animatronics
Freddy, his towering bear figure casting a menacing shadow, shattered the eerie silence with a deep, gravelly voice that reverberated through the room. "Did any of you catch a glimpse of the new guy last night?"
Chica, her sweet chicken animatronic features etched with confusion, tilted her head inquisitively. "Yeah, I saw him. He was creeping around, not uttering a single word. What's his deal?"
Bonnie, a curvaceous rabbit animatronic whose human-like qualities were impossible to ignore, leaned against the wall with a thoughtful expression. "Maybe he's just shy. Let's face it; we're not exactly the friendliest bunch or have the best reputation."
Foxy, a sly fox animatronic with a pirate's accent, crossed her thin, athletic arms with a mischievous grin. "Aye, maybe he's scared of us. Gave him a couple of knocks last night to spice things up, ya know?"
Freddy's animatronic eyes narrowed, emitting an aura of danger. "Watch your step, Foxy. We know nothing about him. I need to dig deeper; something about him doesn't sit right." Foxy shrugged nonchalantly. "Aye, Cap'n, I'll take it easy. Just tryin' to have some fun. Can't deny he's easy on the eyes." Freddy's eyes flickered with a mix of annoyance and amusement. "We've had enough excitement in this joint, Foxy. We don't need any more surprises."
The conversation took a sharp turn when someone mentioned Mr. Afton. The mere mention of that name sent a surge of anger coursing through Freddy's metallic veins. His voice, filled with fury, echoed off the decaying walls. "That fool, Mr. Afton! He tortured us, twisted our very existence into this wretched form. Speak not that name in my presence!"
A heavy silence enveloped the room, punctuated only by the ominous hum of the flickering lights. The animatronics exchanged uneasy glances, fully aware of Freddy's deep-seated pain and resentment toward their creator. Bonnie, her face etched with concern, approached Freddy and gently placed a slender hand on his broad shoulder. "Freddy, we understand the pain he inflicted upon us. But dwelling on the past won't change a thing. We have each other now, and we won't let anyone come between us."
Freddy's red eyes softened, their fiery intensity giving way to vulnerability. "You're right, Bonnie. We must focus on the present. But I can't shake this feeling about the new guy. We must proceed with caution." Chica stepped forward, a warm smile gracing her features. "Maybe he just needs a fresh start, like all of us. After all, we've all been through hell. Let's not judge him before giving him a chance."
Nodding in agreement, Freddy's animatronic joints creaked with a mixture of determination and unease. "Fine, we'll keep an eye on him. Let's see if he can fix that busted shower. But mark my words; if I sense any threat, I won't hesitate to take him down."
With a shared understanding, the animatronics dispersed, melting into the shadows of the dilapidated strip club. Each one retreated to their own hiding spot; their eyes fixated on the newcomer with a blend of curiosity and caution.
Phillips POV
I collapsed onto the plush bed, utterly drained from the day's relentless grind. The monotonous chore of stocking up on supplies and enduring the constant reminders of the strip club's sorry state had taken its toll. Yet, amidst the weariness, there had been a glimmer of respite, a brief escape from the suffocating darkness that consumed my every waking moment. Seeing Auric again had been a bittersweet reminder of the life I once had.
As we drove around town, gathering provisions and groceries, I knew that I needed to take action to start the process of reclaiming what was lost. An hour ago, I had set up Rat Bombs, waiting for the noxious fumes to dissipate. Lost in my thoughts, I was abruptly pulled back to reality by the piercing beep of my coffee machine. I groaned inwardly, realizing that my momentary reprieve was over.
Dragging myself out of bed with a heavy sigh, I trudged towards the small kitchen in the corner of my room. It was only noon, but I already felt as though I had lived a lifetime. Pouring a cup of the bitter elixir, I reached for a pack of cigarettes on the counter. With a flick of my thumb, the lighter sparked to life, and I inhaled deeply, relishing the slow burn that filled my lungs.
Emerging from my room, I ventured into the dimly lit hallway. Flickering lights cast eerie shadows on the cracked wallpaper, exposing the peeling paint and worn-out carpet beneath. The air was thick with the smell of decay and neglect, a symphony of odors mingling together. The mustiness of old wood, the dampness of mold, and the acrid stench of cigarette smoke merged into a haunting olfactory cocktail. Turning left down the hallway, I made my way toward the shower room, determined to fix the broken showers.
The room itself stood in stark contrast to the rest of the dilapidated building. It was a barren oasis of cleanliness amidst the chaos and ruin. Setting my coffee cup on the edge of a sink, I rolled up my sleeves and prepared to work. The tools in my hands felt cold and unforgiving, biting into my calloused palms. As I bent down to examine the water lines, a sense of purpose filled me, a glimmer of hope in this desolate wasteland.
Piece by piece, I attached the water lines, tightening each connection with care. The rhythmic clank of metal reverberated through the empty room, drowning out the distant hum of music emanating from my phone. I could almost envision what this place used to be, a vibrant strip club teeming with laughter and music. But that was a distant memory, a relic buried beneath the ruins of shattered dreams.
Lost in my thoughts, I was suddenly jolted back to reality by a soft rustling sound behind me. My heart pounded in my chest as I turned, only to be met with the sight of a rat scurrying across the floor. Its beady eyes seemed to mock my feeble attempts to rid myself of its presence.
A bitter laugh escaped my lips as the rat disappeared into a crack in the wall. I wearily shook my head, wiping the sweat from my brow. This was my life now, a constant battle against the odds, against the demons that plagued me from within. Finishing the repairs, I stepped back to admire my handiwork. Turning the valve, I chuckled as the water flowed freely, cleansing the floor of its accumulated dust. It was a small victory, a fleeting moment of respite in the midst of the surrounding chaos. But for now, it was enough.
Standing in the shower room, I savored the warmth of my coffee, its comforting embrace soothing my weary soul. Auric's voice echoed in my mind, reminding me that the rat bombs had likely finished their job. I silently thanked her for the update, taking one final sip before placing the empty cup on the sink's edge. Shaking off the weight of exhaustion that clung to my shoulders, I ventured out of the shower room, ensuring that the water was shut off as I exited.
With a determined stride, I turned left, ready to face the never-ending task of clearing the trash. Propping open the doors leading to the private room, my eyes caught sight of movement on the main stage. Curiosity piqued, I altered my course, ascending the creaking stairs with caution. Little did I know that fate had a different plan in store for me. Lost in my distraction, I stumbled, my foot ensnared by an unseen obstacle, and I tumbled unceremoniously through the partially open curtains.
My heart skipped a beat as I found myself face-to-face with a bewildered animatronic.
Author's Note
I hope you all liked this chapter! We got a sneak peek of the animatronics. Apologies for the delay, I had to rewrite it a few times. Moving forward, I'll aim for longer chapters of around 10k words. But for now, brace yourself for the exciting cliffhanger!