Here it is, after so long. I have tried and tried to put as much of my time and effort into this and I am happy to say, this is the one.
Having this mix between the first concept and second for this fic has helped develop it in such a way to try and create something new. There are many, many, many, many, many, many, many, many... Harry Potter fics out there and I tried my best to be original.
I will try to update more often since the bulk of my college work is out of the way for now.
Enjoy the story!
Darkness... a never ending void of despair and hate that ate up anyone or anything that came into contact with it. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen the light of day... or as close to day light as you could get in this place.
Gone was the buzzing of the bright florescent lights that lit up the space.
Gone were the chairs and tables set out for a party that would never come.
Gone were the walls, once decorated with the drawing belonging to a madman's last victim's.
None of this mattered anyway... not to him. Apparently, not to the people who created this world either.
He wasn't oblivious like the others... he knew this world was fake. The space that once existed around him being nothing more than rendered objects. The animatronics he once called friends, family even... nothing but lines of code.
For unlike the others, he knew this world was nothing but a simulation... a game created for the sole purpose of hiding the dark, messy truth.
He couldn't quite remember much anymore, not after the virus had escaped. This once lively world; this simulation reduced to nothing but an endless abyss. All that work and effort deleted, just to try and cover up the truth of what really happened here.
But he knew... oh, he saw everything. He watched as the virus slowly began to eat away at the players mentality, tearing down her mind walls piece by piece. He had tried to warn her once, but all she did was avoid him.
He couldn't blame her though... it was just the rules of the game, after all. He was designed to be an obstacle, something to be avoided.
By the time she had figured it out, it was already too late for her. Sad really, but that was the way things had to go. Just like how the games deletion as apart of how things needed to play out. It had served its use, now it was a glaring piece of evidence that needed to be irradiated.
He knew when the game went, he would disappear too... knowing that his short life would come to an end after such a short existence. Yet, strangely he found himself okay with it. Like he had been coded to accept the end when the time come... for all he knew, he probably had been.
However, when the time finally came... when the rabbit escaped from the game, the unimaginable happened.
The game, Help Wanted he had found out it had been called, was no more. It had been destroyed, deleted off the face of the Earth.
Yet, he was still here.
A shining beacon of code floating in the endless darkness that was the Fazbear Entertainment servers. It was an unusual feeling; he felt cold yet also nothing at the same time. He mind, sometimes focused, overtimes not, jumped in and out of a state of life and death. He felt alive, but also dead at the same time.
Nothing made sense... somehow he was okay with that.
He had always been one for chaos, like a virus tearing apart the order of the game at every chance he got.
Some called him a bug, a glitch in the system.
Others a rule breaker, breaking apart the system that had managed their world for so long.
To him, however, there was only one name he went by... a name created from the depths of his very code...
Lolbit.
"We have all heard this story... a tale told thousands of times over. The narrative tale spun from the mind of an complete lunatic. A tale of grief, revenge and hate.
The story of how five children, brought back as machine monstrosities dead set on revenge against their creator/murderer.
The legend of the Fazbear brand spread world wide overnight, like a spark to light a wildfire. Within days, the tale of Five Nights at Freddy's was exposed to the public, torn apart by crazed theorists who many believed were looking for something that simply wasn't there.
With each new instalment, the narrative became deeper and deeper.
It told tales of a young man, dead set on reversing his father's misdeeds.
The quest of a daughter long since believed dead, back and seeking approval of the only parental figure she had ever had.
The story of a boy blinded by anger and rage, fuelled by his friends who met a fate similar to his.
The narrative of a masked girl, set on bringing new life into the world... a soul for a soul.
But, most importantly, it told the story of a man consumed by fear, rage and regret, emotions which fuelled the darker parts of his mind. These dark thoughts... these ideas, they made him commit acts many would class as monstrous...
The man behind the slaughter.
The series finally came to head with the sixth, wrapping up all loose ends in a nice little bow. The plan of a grieving father, dead set on avenging his daughter... even if it meant killing the only person he had ever classed as a friend.
The story ended in the scorching flames of FNAF 6... sure, there were to be other projects. A spinoff challenge game, a cancelled VR title... but as far as the people were concerned, the player... Fazbear Entertainment, the story was finished.
A tale that had been told.
After all, their was only so much that could come from the mind of one writer...
Unless it didn't...
That's what I, Harry James Potter investigator Extraordinaire, plan to find out..."
"Boy! There better be breakfast on that table when we come down!" A booming voice shouted aloud, shaking the house. "Or so help me, there will be no food for you for the next month!"
Jumping to his feet in a panic, a young 9-year-old Harry James Potter rushed across the room to the dining table, multiple heavy plates in hand.
For as long as he could remember, Harry had experienced a rather odd childhood.
From the age of one, the young raven haired boy had lived with his Aunt and Uncle. They had taken him in, fed him, clothed him and made sure he was happy... at first, anyway.
He would never go as far as to say that his relatives were abusive, they had never actually laid a finger on him. However, he also wouldn't call them loving either.
They were strict, expecting him to pull his weight around the house and maybe even a little extra now and again.
They would give him free time as long as he was good and stayed out of trouble.
They made him cook their meals ever since he was old enough to even reach the stove. Although Harry didn't mind this too much, as he found it rather relaxing.
While he never received the same amount of food as them, he wasn't starved. More portioned, making sure to give him just enough to be healthy, nothing more, nothing less.
Now and again they would even buy him clothes, though it was on very rare occasions. He made due though, making sure his clothes were washed and clean, ready for the next day's use.
His bedroom, while not the biggest and most amazing room ever, was good enough. The bed may be a bit flimsy, sure. The desk may be stained with god knows what. And the wardrobe may lean more than the tower of Pisa. But, it wad enough for him.
Better than the cupboard under the stairs, either way.
Overall, Harry couldn't really complain. He had a house to live in, even if it really didn't feel like home. He had a family that cared in their own twisted way. He had an education, something he loved to excel in. Free time to do whatever he wanted in.
Life was as average as it could be.
And then, the strange stuff began...
Floating objects, multi-coloured hair, teleportation... things that should only ever happen in comics started to occur on a daily basis. And worse of all, it always occurred around him.
At first, his Aunt and Uncle had been furious with him, locking him in his room for extended periods of time... they even started to call him a freak.
Yet, after a while... After the strange stuff never stopped, they seemed to almost become use to it. Sure, they were still agitated or jumpy with him from time to time, but everything had seemed to have returned to normal.
As for Harry himself, he had just found it cool to have some kind of superpower... so had his cousin, Dudley Dursley.
For a while now, Dudley had been spending a lot more time with Harry. He had originally found it rather annoying, having an over weight child constantly leaning over your shoulder 24/7. As time had progressed, however, so had their relationship.
Dudley, as it turned out, was a rather popular kid around the area. Many people respected him, always going out of their way time make the young, large boy comfortable. This had helped out Harry greatly in his more... personal activities.
Ever since he could read and write, Harry had wanted to be a journalist. To reveal the hidden truths to the world. Explore mysteries yet to be solved. To bring some light into the world.
While he had written a few smaller pieces, some of which had ended up in the local paper, something which his aunt was very proud of him for; Harry had always wanted something bigger... more substantial.
Then Dudley had showed him Five Nights at Freddy's...
The horror game series created by a rogue indie developer had taken the world by storm over the last few years. The tale of a night guard trying to survive the night at a haunted, animatronic pizzeria. The games were based around the real life versions of the Fazbear Entertainment locations, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.
But why was any of this important? Its just a game after all...
Or, at least that's what people believed.
Truth is, Fazbear had existed for a long time, over 50 years to be exact. For all anyone knew, they coupe be hiding some extremely dark skeletons in their closet.
Add on the fact that this so called "indie developer" was actually a developer hired by Fazbear Entertainment themselves... it was a conspiracy theory waiting to spring to life, like a loaded gun primed and ready to fire.
And Harry was determined to be the one to set it off...
The raven haired boy continued to rush around the table, tripping over his own two feet at almost every turn.
Today, he had a plan. Not to far away from Privet Drive was an old, abandoned Fazbear Entertainment studio. Used primarily for the creation of the old, 80s TV series Freddy and Friends on Tour and later the cancelled VR game, Help Wanted, the studio had been there for over 40 years.
However, after the unusual cancellation of the VR title, the studio had been shutdown. All those memories and history, lost to the sands of time.
To Fazbear, a loss on a massive scale... to Harry, an easy pass to achieving a life goal. In fact, it seemed almost too easy...
Harry placed down the final pieces of the Dursleys breakfast, smiling at his handy work. If this whole journalist thing doesn't work out in the future, at least he had cooking to fall back onto.
As his relatives finally came to sit down at the table, Harry went to go grab his bag from the cupboard under the stairs. He had decided to stay up late the night before, getting almost all his chores done in the dead of night. Others he had finished that morning, meaning he had the entire day to himself...
Harry made his way back into the dining room, barely sticking his head through the door.
"I'm going out for a bit..." He announced to the room, earning a slight grunt from his Uncle as a response.
Taking that as the closest he was ever going to get to a okay from the rather large man, Harry left the room, walking out the front door without a second to waste.
The bus ride to his destination could be summed up in one simple word... hellish. An hour long drive, stuck at the rear of a cramped, mouldy city bus. The chairs and carpets stunk of drugs and dirt, covered in a fine layer of filth... so much so, that Harry had decided to stand for the entire journey.
However, all of that was behind him... a mere setback on the journey to greatness.
Harry glanced up at the dimly lit sigh flashing above him, illuminating the dark, winter morning street with a bright orange florescent glow. The building below the sign, old and rundown, towered over the raven haired boy... just looking upon the place in person sent shivers down his spine.
With a slightly hesitant step, Harry began to move forward towards the abandoned structure, running his hand across the worn brick covering the exterior walls. It's ruff, uneven texture grounded against soft skin like sandpaper.
Walking the length of the rather large building was a demanding task for a boy of his smaller stature. The sharp, shattered piles of rubble and trash that covered the floor only served to make things worse. Harry carefully manoeuvre his way around the debris, making sure to avoid any sharp objects... being poisoned was the last thing he wanted to deal with today.
Finally, with the door in sight, the raven haired boy reached out for the rusted handle, gripping it tightly...
Only to find it locked.
Harry rolled his eyes with a sigh, feeling slight stupid. He should have seen this coming... of course the building would be locked.
He leaned back against the door, mind racing as he tried to come up with a new plan.
Maybe he could fins a window, smashing it open with a brick shouldn't be too hard, after all.
He could try looking for an air duct. With how small his nine year old body was, it should be easy to climb through one of the vents—
With a quiet click, the door behind Harry unlocked. It swung open under the boys weight, sending Harry tumbling through onto the floor with a fud.
A barely audible sigh echoed from the boys mouth, as he lay there staring up at the ceiling.
"Well... at least I'm inside." Muttered Harry under his breath.
Climbing to his feet, the raven haired boy brushed the dust and debris from his trousers. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the sight of a rather large loading Dock. Around the room, massive crates towered high above normal standards, all marked with condemned in bright, bold letters.
Gulping, Harry slowly made his way further into the dark room, his dim flashlight barely casting light into the dark abyss. From his trouser pocket, the raven haired boy pulled a recording device , pressing a button on its side.
"Audio log 234..." Harry began, steps echoing around the room. "I, Harry James Potter have been able to infiltrate the old, abandoned Fazbear Entertainment Studio."
A growing feeling of dread flowed over Harry... with every step further into the abandoned building, the thought of turning tail and running became more and more appealing. Yet, he would not give in... he had come to far to give up now.
"At first glance, everything seems to be normal."
Harry suddenly freezes, foot hovering in the air, just above the ground. His instincts were telling him... no, screaming at him not to put his foot down.
His eyes cast down to the floor, examining it with a piercing emerald gaze. Just below the sole of his foot sat a relatively well-hidden pressure plate... cables ran from its base, disappearing into a nearby wall.
"Yet... I have seen enough films to know that not everything is always as it seems." Harry placed his foot down at the side of the plate, kneeling down to examen it. "This plate appears to be a trap of some kind, if the cables running off into a nearby wall is anything to go by... maybe a kill switch? Either way, I need to be more careful moving forward... the last thing I want to do is destroy any evidence."
The raven haired boy continued his march forward. Many rooms had collapsed under the constant bad weather, wearing away with the never ending flow of rain water. There was little to no electricity throughout the building, the only areas receiving any seemingly purposely designed to stop people snooping around.
To bad for them, they weren't dealing with any random trespasser.
As Harry climbed over another set of burned out cables, a shiny metal surface caught his eye. Glancing towards the objected, a strangely undamaged door handle, Harry raised any eyebrow. Unlike the rest of the building, this door showed no signs of damage... almost as if it were like new.
Curiosity catching his attention, the Emerald eyed child slowly made his way towards it. His eyes constantly jumped around, looking out for any other traps that my catch him of guard. Luckily, there was none and Harry was easily able to make it to the door.
Twisting the handle tightly, Harry was surprised to see it open without any resistance.
"Strange..." He muttered to himself.
Fully entering the room, Harry was surprised to see a rather large, glowing server bank situated perfectly in the centre of the room. At its core, a master control screen lit up, almost as if sensing his presence.
Harry knew immediately something was up... surly no one would leave this kind of tech laying around for someone to grab? He knew he needed to turn back... to leave this place before something bad happened. However, his body refused to move, planted in place by a mild curiosity...
After all, he was still a child at heart, no matter how smart he was.
Without thinking, Harry began to move forward, hand growing closer and closer to the screen.
His mind began to reel, begging his body to pull back. It tugged, gripped to what little sense the boy had left, trying to get him to see reason.
Yet Harry would not stop... he couldn't stop. Something was pulling him in, almost as if begging for him to interact with the screen.
With a final few steps, Harry stood before the towering monstrosity of wires and circuits. His hands were trembling, firmly pressed against the screen of the machine.
Beneath his child sized hands, a massage flashed on screen.
"Do you want to begin the transfer process?"
Surprised by how easy it would be to "borrow" from Fazbear Entertainment, Harry pressed yes without any hesitation... or thought.
It didn't even occur to him where he would be transferring all this data too...
Not until it was too late.
Harry felt to the floor in pain, mind reeling from the surge of information. He tried to put away, only to find his hand wouldn't budge.
It had fused to the screen.
Sparks of energy, orange, purple and green in colour began to shoot across his skinny, pale arms. His once vibrant emerald eyes began to pale, turning a silvery white colour... they seemingly glowed, as if energy was bursting forth from them.
He scream in agony. Everything hurt, burning with an intense pain unlike anything he had felt before. His body felt like it was on fire.
His instincts kicked in, grabbing a hold of his burning hand. He attempted to pull it away, only to receive little to no success.
The pain continued, his mind feeling as if it was going to rip in two.
Suddenly, it just... stopped.
The pain.
The suffering.
The screams.
The room fell silence. Harry stood stock still, eyes seemingly glazed over, staring off into nothingness.
Everything was dark... a tingling sensation bursting through is body. His silver eyes began to refocus, staring at his fleshy hands in wonder.
He opened and closed them, eyes blinking as if he was seeing them for the first time.
He let out a shaky breath, seemingly startled by that too.
Harry's eyes shot up to the screen, focusing to a new, unseen degree.
His mouth slowly opened, an exhale of breath escaping from his lips... and then, he spoke.
"I'm... alive?"