just to clarify some things since I've gotten a lot of questions on it
yes, I realize that in all the games, it's heavily implied that Cassidy is a girl, and yes, I realize that I've deviated by making Cassidy in this story, male. that's been deliberate since I first introduced him, and that's largely because we already have a female vengeful spirit (Charlie) and it felt too repetitive. when he first appeared in this trilogy, Cassidy's gender was still very ambiguous, so I made the decision then. and I don't regret it! I hope that it doesn't bother you too much to read this from that perspective, but there it is.
on another note, what are your thoughts on Security Breach: Ruin? also, please drop any FNAF song requests in the comments, I'm always looking for more, haha
An 8-bit car danced up and down the lanes of a black road, scurrying around boxy vehicles hurling its way. It passed one, two, three finish lines before slowing to a stop as GOAL in flashing red letters illuminated the screen. Michael fiddled with the steering knob one last time, peering at the little car.
"How is it?" asked Laura, coming up next to him with one arm braced on the arcade machine.
"Works great," he commented as his score appeared on the box in flashing numbers. "But I'm gonna have to practice so none of those gremlins beat my score."
Laura snorted, leaning against it with folded arms. "How mature."
"Totally," he grinned, fingering the zipper of his jacket. Henry's coat would be useful for the evenings when he needed something of a disguise, but it wasn't his style. He'd exchanged it for a violet-patterned bomber jacket in the daytime and already felt more like himself wearing it.
She tilted her head, raising a hand to fix its collar. "You look good," she commented.
"You know, your compliments were a lot rarer not too long ago," he grinned, covering his hand over hers, holding it to his chest. "Lots more teasing."
She smiled that gorgeous smile that put dimples in her rosy cheeks, dark eyes watching him carefully like he was the only thing in the world. "I still can, you know," she murmured slyly. "Take my compliments when they come."
Michael's other hand found her waist, gently pulling her closer.
"Noted," he replied with a smile, bending to kiss her.
His lips had barely grazed hers when a voice chimed in the dining room, interrupting them.
"You guys are really cute and all, but kids are going to be here soon and they're gonna get squeamish with all your PDA," Dana called from across the tables and chairs as she put up the last of the decorations; a three-set of paper plate figurines. Michael felt his cheeks warm a little in embarrassment and he sighed, gazing back at Laura with an awkward smile.
She giggled softly. "Thwarted again," she grinned.
"I'll catch you later," he murmured, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall.
11:48 AM
"You better get to work," Laura advised. Michael gave her hand one last squeeze before ducking out of the dining room, walking the long hallway to the security office on the other side of the building.
He opened and closed its door, making sure it was firmly shut before crossing to the desk. He dropped the box of cassette tapes to the floor and retrieved the first sitting atop the Fazbear Entertainment-issued pile, slipping it into a player beside the computer.
The voice he recognized to belong to Handunit began to speak as he turned on the monitor.
"Your restaurant is now officially open. Awesome! That doesn't mean your job is finished, however. You have a lot of work to do while patrons eat their pizza in the other room. From your terminal, you have supplies to buy, papers to print and repairs to make," he instructed cheerily. "Once you've taken care of all the items on your to-do list, you can log off for the day and get out of there!"
Michael's eyes fell to the TASKS display on the computer screen, moving the mouse over the first option: Order Supplies.
As he did, Handunit spoke again. "Money for supplies and repairs comes out of petty cash, so don't worry about it coming out of your pocket. We've got you covered," he reassured. "The only money you have to worry about is if you choose to upgrade any of the equipment in your office."
He thought about the EQUIPMENT tab he'd seen on the home page and reasoned that's where he could order upgrades. Though, if they were here for as long as they hoped their plan would take, he wouldn't need them.
"Now, onto other matters," continued Handunit, interrupting his thoughts. "Something to be aware of is that the ventilation system, and your terminal, are pretty loud, and may prevent you from hearing things in adjoining air vents. That won't be a problem if there is nothing in the vents. However, if you feel that something might be in the vents, you have a few tools at your disposal to protect yourself."
Michael couldn't help but chuckle. The standards of safety hadn't changed much since his time in the underground.
Although, he considered, ordering a new set of plates, this new safety advisement probably was put in place given how often Fazbear employees had been targeted lately.
"You can shut off your terminal and the ventilation system at any time, to decrease the amount of attention you are drawing to yourself," the guide recommended. "Also, shining your light directly into a vent will most likely prevent anything from jumping out. You also have three tools available from the terminal itself. There is a motion detector, an audio decoy and a secondary ventilation unit. Keep in mind however, that you can only have one of these active at any given time. "
The boy clicked out of Supplies to locate the tools described, and found them on another tab on the homepage. That was good to know.
He turned in his chair to spot the terminal and ventilation switches as Handunit continued.
"Now get to it! Simply logoff when you've completed your tasks for the day, and you can go get some coffee!" He cheered on as the hum of the ventilation system filled the room.
Michael clicked through some of the other tasks, which frankly didn't take very long, but they wasn't his primary purpose in being here anyway.
He stood from his chair, picking up a flashlight as he beamed it down one of the two huge vents on either side of the office. Both were missing the grills that provided a barrier between them and the interior of the room, which made things all the more unsettling considering how large the vents were. They were like metal tunnels that led directly to where the security guard would sit.
Michael frowned, brow furrowing as he peered down the left vent. It was certainly large enough for a person to crawl through... or an animatronic.
He moved back to the desk, beginning some of the last and longer tasks, mulling over his predicament.
The plan was that the animatronics, when and if they arrived, would be left in Parts & Service and the various spare rooms of the restaurant. They all had access to the vents, and it was Michael's job to keep them distracted in the evenings when they were most active. When they were all united, well... the remains of this tragedy would go up in smoke.
So, no pressure, right?
He sighed, getting on with the rest of his tasks. As the minutes ticked into hours, his concentration wavered from printing menus to the mysterious vision he'd had that morning.
Where had he seen that boy before?
The sounds of the few guests in the dining room grew quieter as the evening approached, and Michael found himself neglecting his more janitorial duties to search his brain for where that dark-haired child had first touched his memory. But as six-o-clock loomed closer, he still hadn't recalled anything that brought him past that night in Parts & Service. It almost pained him to feel so close, yet so distant from an answer.
His ears perked as the main generator grew quieter. His shift was almost over.
He closed out of the docking page and powered off the computer, and as he did, Handunit greeted him one final time for the night.
"Great job, it looks like you're getting the hang of this!" he congratulated. "Now lets just focus on getting you through your first week. Make it through Saturday, and you will have proven yourself as the successful entrepreneur that we all know you can be!"
Michael snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah, thanks," he murmured with a soft smile.
He stood and stretched, powering off the last of the lights on the East side of the building before backtracking to the alleyway behind the pizzeria.
His heart began to pound a little harder as he approached the backdoor, grasping its handle. He took a deep inhale and swung open the door...
Nothing.
His shoulders slumped, frowning a little as his eyes swept the empty alley. He didn't exactly expect results on their first day, but still. The sight was disheartening.
He walked back inside, closing and locking the door behind him as he started toward the entrance.
As he passed through the dining room, he glanced around at the new coloring pages pasted to the patterned walls. He almost missed seeing the performers frozen on-stage, given his blind eye hadn't caught their statue-like figures. He turned to see them better. Yes, the restaurant looked almost nothing like it had in 1983, but it still looked strange to not see Golden Freddy and Bonnie performing on-stage...
A memory that felt so distant and naïve, now.
Michael continued out of the empty restaurant and made the drive home. As he strolled into the living room, he found Henry, Laura, and Dana sat on the couches, a news broadcast playing on the TV, and a box of pizza left open on the table between them.
He collapsed in an armchair and reached for a slice, sighing tiredly as he began to eat.
"How'd it go? Did you find anyone?" asked Henry, looking up from a set of blueprints on his lap.
"Nofink" garbled Michael through bites of pepperoni. He swallowed. "Totally empty."
"Hmm..." hummed Henry, expression neutral. Though, by this point, the boy had lived long enough with him to recognize disappointment. "Better luck tomorrow," he murmured, tipping his reading glasses back on as he resumed examining his notes.
"How do you eat that stuff?" Laura asked with a trace of disgust as Michael made for another piece of pizza.
"I'm desensitized."
Dana laughed. "We didn't realize how gross it was when we brought it back. If we'd have known, we would have stopped for dinner elsewhere- it's worse than I remember."
At that, Henry hmphed from his chair, not looking up from the pages in his lap. "It used to be good. They've bastardized Clara's recipe."
Laura tilted her head thoughtfully, looking at Michael. "I didn't know your mom made the pizza recipe for Freddy's," she spoke.
He swallowed. "Yup. She did a lot of experimentation to find something good and easy to make. Dad wanted everything to be as fresh as possible and didn't like buying frozen stuff all the time." He glanced down at the half-empty box, grease staining the carboard. "She let me help when I was little. I think I mostly just spread flour all over the kitchen."
She laughed. "So, you haven't changed much.
"Har har."
Henry stood, tucking a rolled set of blueprints under his arm. "Mike, will you come with me for a moment?" he asked.
He raised an eyebrow, glancing once at the girl beside him. "Sure."
He followed the man out of the living room into the garage, where a few yellow bulbs illuminated it. On the work-desk was a finished animatronic lined with a black casing and a red bow-tie and top hat. Its left socket offered a dark contrast to its pair as it was missing its eye.
Henry set the blueprints on the table, and Michael's gaze swept to the title listed in bold, white letters.
L.E.F.T.E.
Lure Encapsulate Fuse Transport Extract
"I want your opinion on it," said Henry, standing to the side of his creation.
Michael raised an eyebrow. "Mine?" He questioned. "On what? You're the robotics genius, not me."
"Quite the contrary, actually," the man countered. "You have more natural talent than I ever did. Besides, you know how to work illusion discs. Will she respond to this?"
He looked down as Henry extended a hand with a small circle plate in his palm. He retrieved it, examining it carefully while he listened to its frequency, a high pitched whine only audible if one was listening for it. He craned his head, pondering it as his thumb gently ticked it to different adjustments.
He raised it a few pitches higher as he'd programmed for the alleyway discs. This was a frequency that inspired auditory hallucinations over visual ones... as he'd learned from experimenting on Evan.
"I think this will be the best one," he said, handing it back to Henry. The man nodded, securing it in the circle of the bow tie. "Thank you," he murmured, locking it into place.
He straightened as he stood back, staring at the animatronic silently.
It held a kind of grim sentiment that Michael had never quite seen in any of Henry's other robotic creations... then again, this was meant for something much darker than its formers. The mere sight of it inspired a sad-toned reverence.
"We're going to fix this, Henry," he murmured quietly. "All of it. She'll finally be at peace."
The man said nothing, continuing to contemplate his creation as he nodded once slowly.
"I'm going to take it out and let it start searching. I'll be back later tonight. Thank you, Michael." He said in a soft, monotonous tone.
He nodded in acknowledgement, taking that as his ticket to leave. He cast one last look back at Henry, who stood still and quiet as a statue before Lefty before re-entering the house.
He crossed to the living room, picking up his jacket from the couch.
"What was that about?" Dana asked quietly, looking up at him.
He folded the article over his arm. "Just wanted some help with Lefty. He's sending it out tonight." His eyes met Laura's for a brief moment. "I'm just gonna turn in for the night. It's been a long day, and I'm exhausted."
She nodded. "See you tomorrow."
"Night, Laura. You too, Dana."
"G'night, Mike."
Michael travelled upstairs to his bedroom, tossing his name-tag and security badge on his dresser. He reluctantly changed to pajamas with what little energy he had left, half-dreading the morning as he collapsed on his bed and fell into almost instant sleep.
Later that night...
...
"Michael."
Michael blinked tiredly, wondering what had woken him as moonlight drew a line across his bedroom floor.
"Mike." Said the voice again. He peered through the darkness, gasping as he made out a small figure standing rigidly near his dresser.
"Help me," said the figure, its little eyes wide and open. Michael sat up, mouth hanging ajar in shock as it stepped toward him. As it crossed into the moonlight, his heart stopped. Evan stared back at him, expression pleading.
"Help me- help me, Michael-" he begged, beginning to cry as he took another step. With every movement, his appearance changed. His skin began to pale, and a shadow passed over his face. Blood began to spill from his eyes and from a hole that started to gape at his brow.
His tears were scarlet trails on white paper as he stumbled closer, and Michael scrambled back in his bed to the wall, breath whisked from his chest.
"Please- please, Mikey," Evan cried, tripping onto the mattress as blood fell like water to its sheets, staining them a vibrant red. He clawed desperately to reach Michael, who sat pressed against the wall in paralyzed fear.
"I- I-" he stuttered helplessly.
Evan's small hands grasped the hem of his pajamas, clutching them tightly. He gazed up at his brother, eyes sinking into black pits. "Help me."
...
Michael gasped and shot up from his bed, chest heaving. His head immediately turned to where Evan had been standing in his dream and saw nothing. There was no moonlight on his bedroom floor, and no shadowy figure in the corner. Still, the pleading image of his brother dressed in the outfit of his mistakes lingered in his mind and did so until morning.