NOTES
This chapter's a two-fer, once again because putting it into one chapter would make it unreasonably big. The second part won't take long. :)
Enjoy
Cellars and Feathers: part I
I was told to go check the electric systems again. I suppose that's what I deserve for trying to come in early and help.
Trudge was told to help me this time, though. Usually one would think that we'd get the job quicker this way, but Trudge seems to have vouched for 'sticking around and chatting' instead of 'splitting up and covering more ground'. I guess I can live with that, I'd just be rotting away somewhere waiting for my shift to start anyway.
Can't say I appreciate how fast this man likes to go down stairs, considering he went down after me. I thought he was about to jump on my shoulders for a second.
"I don't like this place very much." He decides out loud.
"Dark and damp, perfect place for automatons."
"I bet the robots don't like it down here either.."
"I don't think they care, they aren't built like the gang."
"It's weird how they can feel things."
"William was pretty good at what he did." I feel myself admitting. I may have spent my life trying to kill him, but there's no doubt he was a genius.
"Who's William?"
"The guy who wrote the plans for the animatronics."
"Oh. Is he cool?"
"He's dead."
"Oh. Was he cool?"
Sigh.
"He was fine, I didn't know him very-.." I stop myself. I know this topic in particular might be a worthy of dismissing, but I told Roxy I'd try to stop lying.
"I knew him for a while, but we grew apart."
"I see. That's okay. Sometimes life gets in the way." Trudge replies, trying to comfort me.
"Yeah."
...
Y'know, that gets me thinking actually.. I might need to talk to Freddy tonight, he might have some information about where the CEO found William's plans.
"How was work today?" I ask, feeling the previous conversation fade out.
"It was buuusy! We had to call in a few people who weren't scheduled to work today."
"Wow, it must've been bad then."
"It was fun, though. Lots of kids to talk to."
"They might turn you into an attraction if you hang out with Chica any more than you already do."
"Oh- that'd be so cool! You think Arin would say I could?"
I was joking, but whatever floats your boat.
"Is Arin here today?"
"Mhm. Ooh- The CEO is here today too!"
Now that's rare. The CEO works hard to keep the place as optimized as possible, but usually does so through means that don't require him to be in the Pizzaplex. Maybe if Trudge and I get the kitchen down here checked out quickly, I can catch him before he leaves. It would be way easier to get answers from him than Freddy.
Not to say Freddy wouldn't tell me, but there's a limit on how much he knows, even if it doesn't seem like it sometimes.
"That's interesting, how come?"
"'Cause it was busy. I think he said that he wouldn't call people in to work before he himself comes in to help first."
Admirable.
"How many people got called in?"
"Only about 4 or 5, just enough guards to keep an eye on everyone."
"Did they complain?"
"Yeah, a little, but they made the choice to come. The CEO was asking, not demanding."
Fair enough.
"Each person he called agreed to come in, too! I bet it's 'cause they get paid a lot." Trudge continues.
The day crew really does get paid a lot. It's hard to shut down an offer to make an extra couple hundred dollars just for showing up for a few hours.
I get paid a good amount, too, but not as much as the day crew I don't think. It might sound unfair, but it makes sense once you see what each job entails. From the moment they get to work, they've got to put a surprising amount of effort keeping a keen eye on everything and answering any questions a kid or adult might have until their break. I just walk around and talk to the gang sometimes, and after I'm done with that I sit in my office and play games or write that document.
"Whussat?" Trudge suddenly whispers. I turn to look at him, then stop moving to listen.
There's sounds of someone rummaging near the kitchen, I can hear cans rattling and plastic being crumpled. I don't know what's happening, but it sounds messy.
"It sounds like someone's down here, probably someone who's here to work on the kitchen equipment." I explain, easing Trudge's worries.
"People are coming in to work on the kitchen today?"
"I don't know, maybe. It's pretty common, I've run into them a couple times."
Trudge fixes his posture to stand back upright from the hunched position he was in a moment ago.
"Oh.. Is something broken?" He asks, talking again instead of whispering.
"There's always something broken. They might just be checking, though."
And we continue walking. There's still a little bit of a distance before we actually get into the kitchen area, but the sound carries over really well.
"How come the robots don't fix things?"
"I figure robots have a hard time figuring out what's broken."
"Why?"
I'm not horribly qualified to answer that question.
"I know how to program a little bit. Just enough to know how hard it would be to program some things." I respond. I did learn a little bit of C++ in the years before everything went to shit, but I'm nowhere near the level my father was at. Hell, I doubt I could land any kind of job with how little I know, but knowing even a little bit about programming can put into perspective how much work it would take to program something.
Computers are magic, I've come to conclude. I know they probably aren't, or whatever, but it just baffles me how people could have gotten raw materials to think in ways similar to a human. I'm not just talking about the animatronics, those might actually have magic somewhere in them for all I know, I'm talking about the concept of computers as a whole.
"So it would be hard to make a robot fix something 'cause they don't know what to fix?"
"Yeah."
"Can't you just program them to know what to fix?"
"You'd have to get a robot to recognize the source of a problem, which would be incredibly difficult since something can break for just about any reason. You'd basically have to write a program for every single problem that could possibly occur, individually, and then write instructions on how to fix each of those problems, individually."
"Huh.."
I don't think I explained it as well as I wanted too, but I doubt I'd get anywhere trying to elaborate further.
We enter a doorway leading into the kitchen, just out of sight of wherever the noise is originating.
"Do you think we're bothering them?" Trudge whispers to me again.
"Maybe, but we won't be here very long, just long enough to get a good look at the room."
"That's good. I'd feel bad if we-"
As we enter the part of the room that opens up, both Trudge and I turn to look at who was here.
Just in time to see Chica shovel a large handful of something into her mouth straight from the trash pile she was kneeling over.
Taking both of us off guard, we come to a stop, stamping the ground to stop our momentum a little harder than we needed to. It was enough noise to get Chica to perk up and look around the room curiously, freezing when she spots the two of us.
. . . . . .
It goes without saying that we all stared at each other, unsure what to make of the situation. However, there was a notable difference between the three of us. Trudge and I were staring, obviously, but we weren't flabbergasted. We both rose our eyebrows a bit and stared with curiosity more than anything else. We know she probably shouldn't have been doing what she was doing, but we also already had an idea something like this was happening. Not quite to this degree, admittedly. We were suspecting she was eating raw dough or ingredients from the fridge instead of food right from the trash can. My point being we were surprised, but not disgusted or completely frozen in shock.
Chica, however, was looking at us like her entire world was collapsing down around her. She's gone comically pale, her eyes look glazed while also being hyper-fixated on us. She's shaking, though I can't tell how badly from this distance.
Trudge and I don't move an inch or make a sound, but I can hear the silent conversation between us perfectly, like telepathy. What do we make of the situation? What do we do now? Should we say something? We ask each other a million questions, immediately acknowledging that the other is in the same situation as themselves, and wouldn't know the answers to those questions. The courage to speak up was creeping up my throat, and I settle on what set of words I could say to reduce the tension.
However, Chica beat me too it.
In an instant, I could see the emotions swell in her eyes as reality set in, and immediately come bursting out her beak, resulting in a terrified scream that causes both Trudge and I to physically recoil and grab our ears. It was like a shockwave, something you would never expect from someone as delicate as Chica.
By the time the two of us recover and remove our hands, Chica's gone from the garbage pile, and footsteps can be heard rocketing to the left of us, where Trudge and I entered. Time slows to a stop for a second as I register everything I just saw.
Shit. Bad. I'm finally starting to piece a couple things together, or at least formulate a theory. Chica has this unique obsession with how she thinks she's 'weird', and now I'm starting to think that obsession originated from this guilty pleasure she partakes in.
I know that, logically, it isn't a big deal. Now that we know she's been eating out of the trash, we could counter that habit by offering to make her food, like Trudge and I were thinking about before. However, this situation isn't a 'logical' problem; Chica was caught doing something embarrassing, and if we don't get to her and tell her that it isn't a big deal, her fascination with being 'weird' could get catastrophic..
"Trudge- Let's go." I dictated, breaking into a run to try and intercept Chica before she makes it somewhere we can't. Trudge follows the command surprisingly quick, and is right behind me as we leap up the stairs.
Only when we make it to the auditorium do we catch a glimpse of her again. As we expected, she was running to the animatronic corridor, likely trying to lock herself away in her room. Thankfully, the day crew was absent, likely making their way to their cars in the parking lot by now. We don't slow down.
However, right as we're about to exit the auditorium, something catches my eye.
The CEO is also here, in the auditorium with us. He's got his car keys in his hand, looking at the exit Chica ran through with mild curiosity.
I stop dead in my tracks. I 'need' to talk to him, tonight. There's no telling when he'll come to visit the Pizzaplex again, and the conversation I want to have with him fits perfectly in between the range where 'I don't want to set up a meeting with him to ask some simple and easy questions', and 'I don't want to email him because the topic at hand would require a lot of back and forth, which is hard to achieve through an email as busy as his'.
I take two seconds to think, turning to look at Trudge. Who's stopped behind me, staring at me with a fiery determination I wasn't expecting from the eyes of someone like him.
"Trudge, here."
I quickly unlatch my Faz-watch and toss it to him.
"What do I-?"
"This one has access to cameras and a motion detector, use it to find Chica. I have to talk to the CEO before he leaves."
"Well that's friggen' awesome. Thanks Mike!" He yells back to me, already making his way to the corridor. I hope he doesn't think I'm letting him keep that.
I watch him run for another second or two, wanting to scowl. That sucks. If I could have had just 20 more minutes to handle each of these problems individually, I wouldn't have to make a choice like this.
I shake my head and take a deep breath, setting my sights on the man of interest. Chase two rabbits and you'll return empty handed.
"Cooper."
I break the man out of his trance, and he tilts his head to look at me.
"Micheal. You alright?" He responds, turning his full body to face me.
Cooper, the CEO. You wouldn't associate his appearance to what you'd imagine a CEO to look like. He's skinny, and the exact same height as I am. His eyes always has perceivable bags under them that never seem to go away, even when he insists he gets plenty of sleep, and his mannerisms match. It's rare to see Cooper act anything but tired and lazy. That tired part might be true, but despite the way he acts, he's the farthest thing from lazy.
"Yes, Chica's just.. It's not a big deal, she's just overthinking things, and we're trying to stop her."
I see some of the interest fade from his eyes, and his shoulders hunch a bit.
"That sounds about right.." He scratches the back of his head. "No one's as good at thinking themselves into a black hole as that one.."
"Yep." I sigh, purposefully trying to seem exasperated.
"Anyway, that's not what I was coming to talk about." I continue, fixing my posture to seem, y'know, normal.
"Of course, what's on your mind?"
"I had heard that the animatronic gang's plans were created by William Afton."
"They were."
I take a second to think of a way to continue explaining myself without seeming like a maniac.
"William and I were acquainted for a time, and it got me wondering. William is incredibly elusive and secretive in just about everything that he's ever touched, where'd you find the plans?"
Cooper stares at me for a few seconds, apparently thinking something through.
"Y'know.. For as long as the gang has been known to the public, I've received nonstop questions about the animatronic's, how they were built, and what their origins were." Cooper begins, crossing his arms and looking at me curiously.
I guess that makes sense. With how frequently he must get asked this kind of stuff, he might not be willing to give the information off to just anyone.
"I see, I was just asking to-"
"But I have never received a question that so much as 'mentions' William Afton." He finishes with a friendly chuckle.
"That's.. interesting. Does no one else know that William Afton made the plans?"
"It's not a secret, but it's not exactly stapled on the front page of our website either. Even the people who 'do' know who made the plans don't seem to care."
Shouldn'tve come as a surprise to me that we have a website.
"I see, they're probably just interested in the plans themselves."
"Exactly. Which is why I basically never tell anyone any information on the topic."
So he 'is' reluctant to share.
"That's reasonable. I can't think of 'any' CEO who's willing to share their secret."
Cooper smiles and lazily points a finger at me.
"So I'll trade ya."
"You'll trade me?"
"I'll trade ya." He repeats, walking a few steps to lean on a pillar nearby. "I'll tell you where I found the plans if you tell me what you know about William."
That's.. an interesting proposal.
"I'll tell you a secret, too." He shimmies around to get comfortable. "There was more than just the plans where I found them, though a lot of everything else I found was miscellaneous pieces of machinery that I didn't know how to work. But y'know, just because I didn't know how to work anything doesn't mean you won't either." He shrugs.
"Sounds good, want me to start?"
"I don't really care, I can just tell you now if you'd like."
"..Well- what would stop me from just taking the information and leaving?"
"I don't think you will."
...
"Is that all your reasoning?"
He scratches the back of his head again.
"It sounds kinda stupid, now that I said it out loud.. But I mean it. I don't think you're the type to back out of a deal."
"Thanks. I'll start, though, just to get it out of the way."
"Get it out of the way?"
"William's difficult to talk about sometimes."
"Huh.. Alrighty then."
"What do you want to know?"
"Anything, really. When'd you meet him?"
"I've known him since I was a child for family reasons. I was never close with him, but I was usually one of the first to know when one of his creations was complete."
"So you 'knew' him? Like, actually interacted with him?"
"Yeah, though only as much as I absolutely had too. William was a genius, undoubtedly, but he wasn't the greatest quality of persons either."
"I started to think so, too.. He didn't seem to have a lot of friends."
"Nope, the only 'friend' I can think of was his temporary business partner named Henry."
"Right, the co-founder."
"They weren't close for long either, though. William.. Did some things Henry didn't agree with, so the connection between those two didn't last terribly long."
"Not long after, William went missing." Contributed Cooper, who looked like he was partaking in highschool drama.
"William Afton died, yeah."
"You seem awfully confident about that."
"I am." I think I can share this much, give him some information worth the information he's about to give me. "William Afton was wearing one of his springlock suits when the locks themselves failed. His body was found in a secret room in the Freddy Fazbears Diner."
"Woah." He mutters to himself. "That's way more dramatic a death than I would have envisioned. How'd you find out about this?'
"Because I knew him, and his family. The details of his death weren't made public, I don't think."
"That is 'fascinating'. I never would have thought I'd run into someone like you, much less hire one." He hops off the pillar, well satisfied with what information I gave him.
"Feel free to ask anytime." I blurt, out of politeness. Heavily regret that decision already.
Cooper chuckles.
"I'm sure I will, if I ever have a reason to run into you again." He joked, writing something on a napkin he nabbed from nearby.
"Check this out." He extends his arm, showing me the paper. There's an address on it.
An address that I already know.
"...Is this where you found William's-.?"
"It is, I had no idea what I was getting into when I entered. I thought maybe I'd find a picture or something, but here's the secret-" He flips the picture around. "False floor in the northernmost room.. Well, actually it's just a shabbily hidden cellar, but it felt like a false floor when I found it."
I take the piece of paper in my hand, pretending to look it over, buying myself time to register what I'm seeing.
"Thanks, Cooper. I'll be sure to run over there at some point; I'll let you know if I find anything useful." I half-lie. I don't know if anything William made should see the light of day again.
"No pressure, I already got everything I wanted from that place." He begins walking. "See you, Mike. It was nice talking with ya." He finishes with an extremely light pat on my shoulder. I look down at the piece of paper again while I hear Cooper take his keys back out of his pocket and spin them around while he walks towards the exit.
This is my old house, the family's house. The one I lived in when it was just mother, father, and I. The place where Cooper marked the cellar to be is in my room, where my bed should be.
I take a deep breath, which ends up turning into a sigh.
I don't know what Cooper saw down there, but it might have been a blessing that he didn't know how to work anything.
I have to head over there as soon as I can, make sure no one else like Cooper comes around and finds the cellar.
Someone who could figure out how to work William's inventions.
...
Whatever, it's ok, everything's ok. My father is dead, and all the souls are free. Whatever's in that basement can wait.
I turn around to face the animatronic corridor, just as the clock hits 12am.
And as soon as it turns 12am, this place is my responsibility.