Act 2: Little Monsters
Friday 22nd July 1983, 17:13 PM
He hates you.
Perhaps he had hoped he wouldn't be seen. Underneath that table, with a small shiny dining cloth draped over it. It had offered him some sanctuary, as those tears had poured down his face and that familiar terror had filled his heart.
There had been some part of him that had believed that underneath that table, he would be able to play pretend. Pretend that he was safe, that his worries were merely all in his head. That there was nothing in this world that would be able to take that away from him. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't alone in that place, someone with him to lead him somewhere better.
Such a pretty dream. Reality, this young one had found out, was anything but.
He left without you.
Hearing that voice softly speak to him reminded him that he wasn't quite alone. Though he couldn't see the eyes that were on him, he knew they were there, somewhere. Somewhere in this building, where lies of fantasy and fun were muttered, his watcher was still there.
This was Fredbear's Family Diner. Everyone in town, everyone in school, all knew about Fredbear's Family Diner. Whenever the day was over, all the kids would be begging their parents to take them to see Fredbear himself and watch him sing. The closest thing to a celebrity in this small town of New Harmony.
For any other child, the idea of being left there at Fredbear's would have been a dream. For him, it was a recurring nightmare.
He knows that you hate it here, the voice mused. It was no secret, of course. How could anyone see him there and not understand that? But for his tormenter, it was never out of ignorance. It was done with the rather simple desire to make him suffer. Suffer he did and the only way out of it was for him to muster up what little strength he still had.
You are right outside the exit. The voice urged, and the boy knew it wasn't a lie. It was just down the hallway, perhaps a ten second walk. But under that table, ten seconds would feel like ten years. How could he even try to find that strength to try?
But the voice was persistent. If you run, you can make it. Gazing at the hallway with blurry eyes, the boy could see it. Perhaps he could make it. Maybe, if he could just crawl out from underneath that table, stand up on those shaky legs, and make a break for it, nothing bad would happen. He would escape, this time unscathed.
Though the voice was not unkind, it did pressure him. Hurry, run towards the exit. Taking a deep breath, the voice fully opened his eyes and crawled out from the table. His mind numb and limbs cumbersome, he clambered up to his feet and tried to regain his bearings.
Granite walls lined the corridor, with pictures and drawings and decorations scattered throughout. A big picture of Fredbear was plastered onto the wall behind him and he could feel those eyes watching him. A large red door stood ominously on the other side of the table and even if he wanted to, there was no way he could pull it open himself.
On the table, there were balloons reaching up towards the ceiling, desperate to be free. Colours of red and blue and orange twirled together, each an individual yet always chained together. Stumbling for a moment, the child began to make his way down the hallway, confused.
Then the voice rang over him, making him jump in panic. No! Don't you remember what you saw?
The flashes of trauma washed over his eyes as he remembered again. How could he have forgotten? The thing that had caused all of this? Why he had been hiding? In this building was a threat. A threat that was coming for him. When fleeing had been too difficult, hiding had been his last, best hope. But he knew that the time for hiding was over.
It was coming for him.
The exit is the other way! Hurry and leave.
Nodding in a silent agreement, the boy shakily turned towards the other end of the hallway and tried to go as fast as he could, but his legs weren't obeying him. There was something in his gut that was almost stopping him, but he ignored it. In this place, there was always something wrong.
How could nobody else see it? How could everyone just turn a blind eye? When everyone would prop up this horrible place as some sort of fun and exciting time, eating pizza and laughing at songs? He would see the truth. The horror. How the adults would just act like nothing was wrong and the other children would tell tales just to giggle and shriek. How could they be so ignorant?
One boy would shout and present that hideous brown toy so proudly. He is a finger trap, he says. Another girl had a range of figurines of the characters from Fredbear and Friends. Much like the boy's own plushies, except those little figurines were much more colourful and didn't really look like them.
Then there were those who were so horrible or so naïve that they would look at him and believe him to be crazy. No one else is scared! Why are you? One mean older kid had told him, sitting on the ground and laughing stupidly. Stop being such a baby!
Some would have a grasp of the truth, yet could not understand. You'd better watch out. I hear they come to life at night. And if you die, they hide your body and never tell anyone. The girl who had said this to him, so creepy yet so cheeky. Like it was nothing more than a scary story to pass around the schoolyard.
How could no one understand, except for him?
But they only ever looked at him like his fear was pointless. Embarrassing. Being treated like he was stupid. One boy had spoken to him, asking him if he was going to the party on Sunday. Everyone is going, he claimed. A free pizza party at the most popular place in town? Of course all the kids in town were going.
Oh wait, the boy had reminded him, you have to go. It's your birthday! Haha!
Like he hadn't known that. Maybe it had been merely words of kindness. That somehow people couldn't understand that he wanted nothing more than to be a million miles away from this place.
Trying to spur his little legs into gear, the boy made his way towards the tunnel leading out of the building. So close. If he could just make it, all of this would be over. Just a few more steps…
But when he heard that screech, those heavy footsteps, he knew it to be too late. Freezing in place, he saw the demonic shadow descend onto the floor, shuffling closer. His eyes went up and he could see the lumbering shape appear at the entrance of the hallway.
It stood so tall, over twice his own height. Yellow fur stuck out of its skin, and in its hand it held a metal rod about the size of the child's arm. A purple bow tie and hat it wore, so abstract and opposite to the stained hair the two resided on. Those eyes, so dead and unseeing, stared out at nothing. Rows of jagged teeth dotted the monster's mouth.
But it was what lay beyond those teeth that struck the child like a blow to the chest. Behind them were a pair of brown eyes, Human eyes. Staring at him.
It's too late. The voice spoke urgently, trying to break him from his stupor. Hurry the other way and find someone who will help!
All the child could do for a moment was just continue to stare in horror as a muffled voice spoke out from the monster's mouth. Stepping back at the monster raised its hands for a moment, the child knew he had to move.
You know what will happen if he catches you!
Turning on the spot and feeling his legs about to fail him, the child was able to maintain his strength and hobble away. Away from the gigantic monster that had swallowed a human being whole. Away from his salvation and further into the building. As he did so, the big red door was opened.
Against his better judgement as he ran away, the boy turned to look at the door. Shrouded in darkness and shadow, there was barely anything visible in there. Apart from the two figures standing within.
One was standing within another monster, this one similarly yellow, yet slender and slightly taller. Its teeth were bigger, square shapes of white. Only the bottom ones were there, though. Everything above the lower jaw was gone, exposing the human being trapped inside. Dark eyes and brown hair was all the boy could make out from them.
Standing opposite of the trapped person was another man, this one shrouded in darkness. His eyes, so white that they were almost shining, looked at the man as his mouth appeared to move. On his chest was something else. Something that appeared yellow. The boy knew it to be a security badge. In his hands was the head of a rabbit, which he lifted delicately over the other man's head.
Then the man lowered the head of the rabbit over the trapped person's head, and it clicked into place. Not even the person's eyes were showing from the teeth of his prison. Then, the shadow man saw that the door had opened and he closed it, barely registering the young boy standing there, gawking.
Knowing that he would be next if he didn't move, the boy pulled himself away and ran towards the dining area. He entered, seeing the light bounce off the many balloons that hung from the tables. Treading on the confetti floors that led to the one place he knew he couldn't go. Banners were sprinkled all around, orange and n
But it was the shadows on the wall that his eyes fell onto. Two horrifying shapes, stretching across in every direction. Their teeth clacked and their limbs moved, grinning in delight at the sight of new prey.
He knew that he couldn't go any further. Not towards them. Never towards those beasts. But the voice pressured him. His vision darkened and it felt like everything became so far away. Cloudy. His breathing became hard, as if his lungs had forgotten how to work. There was a loud thumping in his head, and it hurt.
You can find help if you can get past them. The voice called to him, and the boy knew that this was his only option. Breathing in, he tried to continue, but his legs had grown into snails and his shoes cement blocks. He could hear the beast behind him getting closer.
You have to be strong.
And he tried to be. Oh, he tried so much. But every step was a little harder and he knew he could go no more. When his eyes laid on the monsters that were waiting for him, he knew it was all over. They stood there, watching him. As the one chasing him finally entered the room, he felt his legs finally fail him and he fell underneath the table.
The boy wept, crying out his frustration at his weakness and his horror that his failure to escape. The monster stopped at the table and the boy could feel it waiting for him. All he could was lay on the ground, eyes squeezed tight as he sobbed. He knew that his watcher's eyes were on him. Only being able to offer one truth to him.
Tomorrow is another day, the bear said.
Thursday 30th April 2015, 05:46 AM
Dawn had begun to break as he arrived at the site. It had taken weeks to pick up the trail, after the incidents with the operators of AESIR. He hadn't wanted to leave his fellow Nightingales, but Donovan had been insistent that the targets that had been assigned to him were now of the highest priority.
So after having arrived in the town of Hurricane and finding the ruins of what was called Fazbear Frights, all it required was looking through that security footage and going from there. His first instinct had been to understand where Mike Schmidt would have chosen to go. He was a local, at the very least from the same state.
It had been the link he had to a mountain man called Benjamin Reed which had answered Midnight's question; if the worst came to pass and Mike needed to get somewhere, it would have been into the wilderness he went. Not through the wasteland, because he and the others would've been spotted too easily.
Midnight knew that they had all stayed together, rather than splitting up. Though it was typical for two experienced agents to do so as to keep themselves from being tracked, the only man with the type of training to survive such a tactic was Carl Young.
No, they had stayed together. Went north, into the forests. They would have kept away from roads. Then they would have gone north-east, through the Dixie National Forest. If Midnight's theories were correct, they kept going that way until they reached Salt Lake City. At that point, they could've only gone two ways.
Either north into Idaho, east into either Wyoming or Colorado. He wasn't sure about either.
But he knew he was on the right track the moment he stumbled upon that little spot nearby Fish Lake. It was night and secluded, a perfect camping spot. Not that they would've left any evidence of that. But it had been their sentimentalism that their mistake had brewed. Nearby that spot had been a marker, a cross made from the scrap of a building.
On the cross had been scratched Thomas Caine. A golden pocket watch, a family heirloom only a few understood the origins of, had been hanging there. Placed on top of the cross had been the black fedora hat, its worn white ribbon slightly drenched by rain.
He would not have been able to mistake that hat for anyone else's. Seeing the name on the cross had merely been the undeniable proof. For some time, Midnight had stared at the cross, before feeling the urge to show some respect to the man whose willpower had shaken a foundation built centuries before he'd existed.
"Death is not the end, old friend." Midnight muttered. Though he hadn't known the detective well, he knew what he had been capable of. Everyone in the Crucible had. You either respected him, or you despised his existence. There was never an in between.
Though the footsteps behind him were almost whisper-silent, it was still enough. Barely turning his head, Midnight had registered them to be friendly within moments. Nodding in acknowledgement, he spoke up. "You have something to report?"
The scout stepped out from the trees. He was a young man and Midnight remembered his given name to be Quinn. "Yes, sire."
Looking back at the grave for a moment, Midnight stood. "You should feel honoured. A legend died here."
"Of course, sire. I'm afraid I never knew him."
"And that is unfortunate." Turning to the scout, Midnight glanced him over. He seemed somewhat out of his element, though he barely showed it. "What is this report, then? Is it word from our efforts?"
"Yes, sire. It…it's not good news, I'm afraid."
"It never is, but I will hear it."
Preparing himself, the young scout began. "We've suffered fifteen casualties since you left. Two of our brothers have taken the great journey."
Closing his eyes for a moment in mourning, Midnight asked, "Their names?"
"Juno and Saxson."
Though Midnight only knew Saxson from training, the first name hit him hard. Juno…They'd known each other for years. "That is unfortunate. As for their casualties?"
When the scout didn't answer, Midnight had to subdue the pained smile that threatened to spread. "None? I suppose I am not surprised."
"The fight goes poorly, sire. Forgive me for my defiance, but why hasn't the High Overseer stepped in to help us?"
"Because this is simply the prelude." Midnight answered, understand the resentment. "Until the Crucible is ready for an all-out war, we are simply the distraction. Remind the others of that. Avoid direct confrontation with the operators of AESIR. They're Thomas Caine's finest men. And they're angry."
"Yes sire. I will report this to the others." Before he left, the scout was hesitant before continuing. "There is one last thing. About that missing man? We found Cerberus. They were in Cheyenne, like you predicted."
Looking back at him, Midnight's spirits were raised somewhat by the good news. As for Cerberus? Why didn't he report in?"
"Because he was unable to."
"He was killed?"
"No. Seems that they didn't go that far. They did something to him; he was conscious, but he couldn't move. Couldn't speak."
It didn't take Midnight long to know why that was. Williams. It appeared that the sweet little doctor had showed her fangs. "Keep your eyes on him until we can get him evacuated. Perhaps the Crucible doctors will be able to recover him."
With that, the scout left and Midnight was left to muse over what he had learnt. It had been expected that the battle against AESIR would go so wrong. How could they expect to survive demons? Let alone win. Any attempts to extract leverage against them had been fruitless.
They were fighting a war they could never hope to win. But Midnight knew faith was all they had.
Turning away from the grave, Midnight began his journey towards Wyoming.
Sunday 31st May 2015, 13:52 PM
Chipped paint lined the old walls surrounding them. Though some of the floors were still carpeted, many spots had been ripped up, exposing the stone-grey concrete underneath them. For a moment, the group looked around at their surroundings before Carl turned to them.
"Alright." He breathed, "This will be over faster if we split up. We look for whatever we can find, then we'll go over it and see what we missed. Everyone clear?"
When none of them offered anything contrary, Carl nodded. "Might be best if someone watches the front door. Make sure no one comes up behind us."
"I'll do it." Mike immediately offered and Carl raised an eyebrow.
"Could probably do with your gun, pal. I was thinking Jack. I don't mean any offence when I say this, but he's just about the only one here without combat experience."
If Jack was offended, he didn't show it. "I get it. I'll keep an eye out."
Nodding, Carl looked around. "There's two floors. I think it's best if me and Sam take upstairs, then Mike and Ella downstairs. If you need help, just call. I doubt we're not alone here."
Without another look, both Carl and Samantha went upstairs. With reluctance, Mike followed Ella down the hallway from what used to be the living room further into the house. Though she remained on the lookout, Ella gave a glance at him. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Seems you would rather not be here."
Shaking his head, Mike shot her a small smile. "It's nothing. I just…I think we should move on. I've got a bad feeling. About this place."
"Me, too." She admitted, "But if they think this place is important, I think we should listen."
Mike uttered a conferring grunt, but he didn't feel it. They stepped into what used to be the kitchen, where most of the appliances had been ripped out. Even the fridge, judging by the scrape markings on the floor. Looking around briefly, they couldn't see anything that was at all significant.
Moving on, they saw the small laundry room just off from the kitchen. Mike noted that the appliances in here had also been moved. Without any sort of wallpapers, there was little that could be hidden within the walls.
"Are you seeing anything?" Ella asked, as she checked what little furniture that remained.
"No." Mike admitted as he was checking an empty cupboard, "Nothing."
The minutes passed by painfully as they came up with nothing. As they accepted that there was nothing down here that would help them, they returned to the living room. Jack was still standing by the front door, peering through it with some wariness. He saw them return and looked at them with a question on his mind.
"You find anything?" He inquired.
Mike shook his head. "Nothing down here. Unless there's something in the walls themselves."
With a shrug, Jack gave a coy smile. "Wouldn't be the first time, eh?"
Footsteps came down from the staircase and they all looked up. Carl and Samantha were walking down, neither of them particularly happy. Looking at them with expectancy, Mike asked them, "Find anything?"
Carl sighed. "I'm not seeing anything."
Trying his best not to show his lack of surprise, Mike folded his arms. "Do you think we're missing anything? Because it seems to me that this place isn't it."
"I don't know." He admitted, "I can't say for sure. There's something about this house. Something off. Something built into the very walls. It doesn't want us here."
With a glance, Jack spoke somewhat curiously, "You get many houses wanting people out of it?"
"It's come up a lot more common over the last ten years, believe me. It looks like this house has been largely avoided by the local population. No squatters, no teenagers come exploring…it feels like everyone else on the planet is wise enough to stay the hell away from it."
"Then I hate to say it," Mike tried to hide his eagerness, "but maybe we should listen to the house. I don't think this is it."
But Samantha was clearly against it. "We just travelled almost a thousand miles to get here. We're not leaving when we just got here."
Raising his eyebrows, Mike stared at her. "Well, if you're seeing something we're not, please feel free to share."
"This is just about the only good lead we have." She insisted, "We're not leaving now. We're not throwing it away. Tom put it in his files for a reason."
But Carl was still sceptical. "As much as I hate to say it, Sam, Tom's leads were never gospel. Not even to him. Especially not to him. We ran into many dead ends during the years, some that we just had to write off."
"So what, you think we should just write it off? Then what next, Carl?"
"Sam, come on." Mike pressed, "This is clearly a dead end. There's nothing left here. Maybe it would've been what we needed five, then, fifteen years ago. But if there was anything here, who's to say that something didn't get it first?"
Carl seemed to agree. "Looking around, I reckon that's what happened. Might've been Fazbear Entertainment, clearing up evidence. Did Tom's files ever say why he was looking at this place?"
Though she seemed frustrated, Samantha composed herself for her response. "He said it related to something that happened back in the eighties. Some kind of incident."
"Maybe that's what feels off about this house." Ella pointed out, "There's some bad energy here, for sure. Feels like we walked into a crypt."
Glancing at Mike, Carl seemed to be remembering something. "Remember that pizzeria? The one we found that fake wall in? What was Tom's first feeling there?"
Mike responded against his better judgement. "He could feel something off with it. But he was also ready to write it off."
"And if he had, we would've never found the Marionette."
With a sigh, Samantha continued. "Listen, I know that this place looks barren…but I know it's what we've been looking for."
"But how?" Mike demanded, "What are you seeing that we're not?"
"The reality of the situation, for one thing." Glancing at each one of them, Samantha's eyes were hard. "Think about it: We've been on the run for over three months, now. In that time, we've had no word that our agents have managed to track us. We do know that the Nightingales have once."
"What are you saying?"
"All of this moving we've been doing, the last thing they'll expect is this. Hiding out all of a sudden barely ten miles down the road from where all of this kicked off? In a place where, if we do indeed have a back-up of Tom's files, our own lot will be able to find?"
Carl seemed to be the first one to understand what she was saying. "Ah. This was never just a lead, was it? You're wanting us to stay here."
She gave an affirmative nod, to the others' disbelief. "It's the perfect hiding place. There's more pros to staying here than cons. If we keep moving, it'll only be a matter of time before they catch up."
Mike uttered a derisive laugh. "You've got to be kidding me. Seriously? That's what we're doing now?"
Though Ella wasn't nearly as snarky, she still seemed to share his dismay. "Uh, yeah, I'm not sure about this."
"If you've got a problem with it," Samantha's voice was low, "then please. Share."
"Well," Mike pointed out, "how about supplies? Because we're going to need to go into town to grab food. Which, you know. Isn't great, considering that me, Ella, and Jack's faces are still probably on wanted posters around here."
"The three of you will minimize your time in the eyes of the public. It's not hard; Tom and I spent two years getting things done with the law on us."
"Well, what if the Nightingales do figure it out? Or they just stumble on us?"
"Just as likely as them finding us on the road."
Mike could almost feel the hypocrisy bursting out of his stomach. "But you were telling us to keep moving the other week!"
"That was then," She simply stated, "this is now."
"No. No. This is a bad idea. This is going to be the end for us."
Seeing that their argument wasn't getting anywhere, Carl finally stepped in, almost annoyed. "I can see what both of you are saying. If I'm honest, I can't see this place leading us anywhere that will help. But…with that being said, I don't disagree with staying here."
Blinking, Mike stared at him. "And how is that?"
"Well, for one thing, it's four walls and a roof. Out of the way." Hands on his hips, Carl seemed to be conflicted. "This isn't the sort of place that the Nightingales are going to zero in on. As for suddenly going from running to standing still…that's actually not the worst idea in the world. They're going to eventually zero in on our tactics, our likely choices for pathways. You keep them guessing and never do the same thing twice, they'll have no way to predict what our next move is."
Ella cleared her throat a bit. "So, we hold up here? Until your guys figure out where we are?"
"Not exactly. I think we make this our home base. It's unlikely that anyone will come sniffing around here and if they do, we stay out of their way. In the meantime, maybe we go out into town. See what we can find out about this place."
Holding his hand to his face in frustration, Mike kept his voice neutral. "I'd like to remind you that we're wanted criminals."
"From a small town for murder and arson." Carl reminded him, "That happened three months ago. I've seen worse people go unnoticed for months. As long as we don't cause trouble, I reckon we'll be fine."
Seeing that this was going nowhere, Samantha finally said, "If this is something we need to vote on, let's just get this out of the way. We're burning daylight."
Carl nodded. "If we are, then it's going to be a yes from me. I don't see any better options."
Pausing for a moment and seeming troubled, Ella gazed at them both. "I'm sorry. Sleeping under this roof…it's just not there for me. It's a no."
Everyone looked over to Jack, who had been almost silent the entire time they were talking. Either digesting their arguments or simply too tired to join in. Then, he answered, no emotion showing on his face.
"I'm good with staying."
Closing his eyes in anguish, Mike knew that any way out of this was up in flames.
"If the two of you don't want to stay," Samantha then said, her voice softening, "I get it. It's your decision what you do."
Ella shrugged. "It's fine. If it comes down to it, I'll sleep outside. It's near enough Summer, anyway."
Though Mike knew even being in the shadow of this place would be too much, he pretended to agree.
"With that out of the way," Carl continued, "it seems that our next point of call is what to do first. The way I see it, we can either split up or stay together. Both have their risks."
"Maybe split up," Ella offered, "but stay within contact and close enough to each other?"
"Just what I was thinking."
Taking out the files, Samantha voice herself gathering her thoughts. "From what Tom found, it looks like we're in the town where Fredbear's Family Diner was located. A precursor to the Freddy's we know, maybe?"
Carl nodded. "I reckon so."
"Good. Perhaps we'll find the answers where it all started."
As they prepared to leave, Mike tried to see the light side of his situation.
Perhaps the Nightingales will get me first, he mused to himself.
Act 2 is officially underway and it's going to get tough. Up until this point, I've had it easy; I've been able to remain vague about certain details and gotten by. Now, however, we've reached the dreaded canon territory.
TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3: The return to Utah was definitely one of those aspects I was unsure of, but I'd kinda dug myself into a hole with that. But it also adds to the deteriorating cooperation between the group that is becoming more evident. The house, as I'm sure everyone has guessed by now, is certainly not the type of location that will simply be a one-and-done thing. Though they've done a search of the house that led them to believe there's nothing in there, it may not be so cut and dry.