Preface
Their Forceful Ways
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at /works/42371580.
Rating:ExplicitArchive Warning:Creator Chose Not To Use Archive WarningsCategories:F/M, OtherFandom:Five Nights at Freddy'sRelationships:Moon/Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's)/Reader, Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's)/Reader, Moon (Five Nights at Freddy's)/Reader, Daycare Attendant (Five Nights at Freddy's)/ReaderCharacters:Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's), Moon (Five Nights at Freddy's), Reader, Daycare Attendant (Five Nights at Freddy's), DJ Music Man (Five Nights at Freddy's)Additional Tags:Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Knifeplay, Manipulation, Attempted Suicide, Smut, Hypnotic Moon, Foot... Things, Hand... Things, Tongue... Things, graphic depictions, Sun/Moon have speech problems, Monopoly/Obsessive Yanderes, Your discretion is advised, 21 Topics, Punishment Through Violence, Sun/Moon have Facial Expressions, Sun/Moon are Yanderes, Sugar-Sweet Sun, Blood, Gore, Domestic Violence, Shameless Smut, smut with plot, Porn With Plot, Female Anatomy for the Reader, (Author tried to stay Gender Neutral), Tentacock(s), Mentions of Death, Fucked up... Things, This is the brainrot that lingers in my head 24/7, The Author has no life, Not Beta Read, Kidnapped by Sun and Moon, ...The tags will come into play, I'm so serious, BDSM, Bite-Branding, Fever, Graphic Depictions of Illness, ...Shits weirdLanguage:EnglishStats:
Published: 2022-10-14
Updated: 2023-05-29
Words: 81,421
Chapters: 20/?
Their Forceful Ways
by orphan_account
Summary
Kidnapping isn't the ideal way to win someone over.
Stockholm Syndrome does not always mean that the victim falls in love.
And an animatronic. Why would anyone, especially you, fall in love with an automaton?
The very thing that had kidnapped you. Had told you that it loved you.
Love was not earned. And love was not given. It was something that couldn't be taken. And it was something that couldn't be traded.
It was your defiance. You were not the animatronic's plaything. You were not something to be owned. And you would not stand being treated that way.
Or so you thought.
Not everything went according to plan. All it took was a little adapting.
Adapting to the situation, the environment, the animatronic, and the circumstances.
But life wasn't fair.
And it never would be.
Notes
Sweetest at your service!
Before reading this fanfic, I do advise you to read the tags and warnings to see if perhaps anything steps over your boundaries.
Now, onto the specific things to note:
1. There are complicated speech patterns that come into play, and can be semi-difficult to read and understand.
2. This story is unfinished, meaning that some tags haven't come into play yet.
3. Warnings for the contents of chapters will NOT be added. Read the tags and decide whether this is the fanfic for you or not.
4. All of this is NOT beta read, so… Expect a few grammar mistakes here and there. Feel free to point anything out if you will.
As of May 28, 2023, this fanfic is being redone. There are no estimates as to when this revamp will be completed.
Your discretion is advised.
Not Normal
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Such an unfavorable situation you had gotten yourself into. Whether it was a good or bad thing that it wasn't your fault was, however, undecided to you. It was, however, the fault of… Someone, for the pain and aching in your body. It was also their fault for bringing you… Here.
That was, wherever 'here' was.
You were quickly overwhelmed with confusion and terror, the typical 'W' questions invading your mind. All you knew was that you were in an unrecognizable place in a more than unsatisfactory position.
You had come to notice that your forearms had been pressed inner skin to inner skin before having been wrapped tightly together with something of that relating to a type of rope. Your limbs had been forcefully manipulated behind your back, bending your elbows and skin alike into a more than awkward position. Your arms had become terribly sore, blistering painful rashes being formed on your arms.
Your ankles were, unfortunately, bound by the same restraints as your arms. Your legs having been forced underneath your body, bruises and scrapes indicating that you had been in this position for quite a while. An hour at least.
At most?
You didn't know.
It was then that the gag came to your attention, sapping the saliva within your mouth. Your tongue was also pinned underneath the thick cloth, ensuring that you couldn't speak. Nonetheless, scream. The gag was clearly a makeshift. The scratchy, sweaty fabric only proving your point further.
And finally, your mind wandered to the blood that was staining your shirt. A deep, somewhat painful wound had been raked across your chest. It was an abrasion that started at your chest, running up toward your right shoulder, and sitting between your collarbone and arm socket.
Each passing second making you increasingly aware of the blood that had begun to trail down your chest, soaking into the elastic of your clothing. The sticky substance had easily stained the fabric a dark shade of red, regrettably paired with a strong acrid smell.
But this all led up to something.
Kidnapped.
You had been kidnapped.
It was odd how you just knew. All the evidence was clear, splayed out right in front of you. You wouldn't be gagged, nor tied up if whoever had done this didn't want anyone to find you. And if that was true, that meant they didn't want you roaming around freely either. Hence the restraints.
But that led to another point. If you couldn't get help, that meant you had to rely on your kidnapper. That meant your kidnapper was in charge of taking care of you. And there were already many faults to that. You were actively bleeding, and your abductor hadn't done anything to help you. Were they just going to leave you to die?
To you, that seemed illogical. A waste of time and careful planning. Why would anyone go through all that hard work, just to have you keel over and die from blood loss?
You wanted to help yourself. Your laceration was really beginning to throb, a dull aching that quickly grew into a blistering wave of nausea. But you were in no position to do anything. You only had the twisting feeling of fear accompanying you. It felt like a manipulation of your mind. It twisted your common sense, pulling you away from the simple solutions available to you.
That fear only grew. You wanted to escape. You wish you knew how.
But you were still dancing with sleep.
You were unable to think properly.
'Unable.'
That was what you were.
— — — — —
"But there are all sorts of things you can enjoy! Mazercise is just for fat people."
"No, it's not!" Ok, maybe they did encourage gluttonous behavior, but there was surely more to it than just that.
"Then why do you want to go there? There isn't anything interesting about that place anyway."
"They offer new mazes every hour. Doesn't that sound fun?" You were never the sportsy type, always preferring to use your brain rather than your brawn.
"That's such a nerd thing to enjoy." Not a lie, but you'd much rather be a nerd than an idiot.
"Ok, Ok, fine. What do you want to do then?" You already knew what they were going to say. They always said the same thing every time the two of you came here together.
"Roxanne's Raceway of course!" You didn't dislike the raceway, but it certainly got old after a while.
"Just like every other time." Sorry, did you let that slip?
"Tell me how you really feel."
"Only if you promise me that we'll do Mazercise next time, deal?"
"Sounds fair."
"Pinky Promise?"
"Cross my heart."
— — — — —
Your shirt kept grazing against your wound, causing you to wiggle uncomfortably every few seconds. Painful. That's what it was. To think this was just a minuscule problem in the grand scheme of things.
Not only were you injured, but you were also starving and unnaturally thirsty. The makeshift gag blocking your salivary glands wasn't all too helpful either. You couldn't help but squirm around just a tad bit more, causing you to worsen your already bruised limbs. It was painful, yes, but you could barely contain your pent-up energy after being motionless for so long.
As if on cue, much to your surprise, you heard the lights go out with a dramatic power drain. You could hear the energy being redirected to different wires and circuits. It was an odd sound, almost like a hum. Keyword. Almost.
It felt unnatural to watch the lights slowly dim into darkness. Except, it was never fully dark. Sky blue lights seemed to line the walls and ceiling, causing the room to be accompanied by a soft glow. It was unnatural to you, to say the least anyway.
The tension seemed to build simultaneously, a sickening feeling of anticipation that ate away at you. You attempted to peer over the bed that was obscuring your view. You were tucked between the bed and the wall, almost hidden from the view of the balcony entryway.
The weight worsened when you heard soft, repetitive sounds that you could only describe as 'mechanical.' You could hear the parts click together, metal against metal. With every passing second, the soft tinkering grew slightly louder as whatever was nearby, drew slightly closer.
You then picked up the soft chime of bells that sounded much too similar to those in the Santa Claus movies where he could be seen riding on his ridiculous red sleigh. But, nevertheless, the bells were... a softer sound than the out-of-tune mechanical parts working together.
You could just barely see past the oversized curtains that blocked your view of the outside area. It was then that you realized something, how was your kidnapper(s) going to reach you? You seemed to be in an extra room used for storage. That meant there had to be another entryway for people to actually get in. But where?
Maybe if you were lucky, you could make a run for it. You were aware that each failed attempt was going to cost something. What cost you were to pay up? You didn't know; it was in the hands of your abductor(s) to decide. But maybe. Just maybe that'd be a viable option for you.
An involuntary shudder racked your body. It was terrifying to think of all the horrid things anyone could do to the human body without actually dying. You could be stabbed or dropped from a high ledge, (In this case the balcony) have your Achilles Tendon torn. Amputation, asphyxiation or even water-logging.
Point was, there were a lot of gruesome things you could think of. And that was only the surface. Who knew how nit-picky your captor(s) were going to be if it came to anything brutal? Your plan so far? Stay on their good side and don't give anything away about your future plans, that being your escape.
In the time you were thinking to yourself, only fueling your terror, you failed to notice the mechanism staring right at you. It was hunched over in a frog-like position, hands swinging slowly side-to-side before itself.
Your eyes began to slowly depict its complicated details. Taking instant notice of its peculiar articles of clothing, you noticed that it wore puffed-out sleeves and pants. Dark, calming blue seemed to be the base color, with yellow and white stars covering the multitude of clothing.
You began to falter as its head idly tilted ever so slightly left and right in uneven increments. Across its waist was a large strip of red fabric tied into a sash. A bow was used as the knot to keep it all together, you assumed this was so that it still looked stylish whilst doing… Whatever it did.
It also wore an oversized nightcap, a plush-filled star attached to the tail of the hat, which was lazily draped over one of its eyes. It was then that you noticed that they weren't exactly 'eyes.' Its eyes were a monotone black, lacking visible pupils. But, in its own creepy way, still seemed to be staring right at you. The way its head was tilted in your direction only hinted that it was examining you, just as you were it.
Its chest was half black with the other side being a bioluminescent white, its faceplate carrying the same theme of color. It wore a toothy Cheshire grin, making you feel unexpectedly nervous.
It lifted its right hand to finick with the red tulle around its neck, readjusting it so it sat properly atop its shoulders. Whether it was trying to look presentable or was a habit, you were unsure of. You were too nervous to even begin questioning the situation it had put you into.
"Look-see who is-is finally up," its voice was gravelly as it spoke, unusual stutters cutting itself off. You weren't quite sure if the random synonyms added were to make it more intimidating. Or if it was just a programming error, perhaps even a freakish habit. But, either way, it was unnatural to hear, more, or less to expect. But you did notice that the repeated words were given the slightest bit of unnecessary emphasis. It was... Unusual, to say the least.
Its faceplate turned in a bizarre 360 degrees, a chuckle escaping it as it did so. It lay its palms flat against the wooden flooring, soft tinkering could be heard as its gears locked into place. A sound that made you cringe away from it. And ever so slowly, it was beginning to settle in that this thing wasn't quite human.
It, in fact, was an automaton, a mechanoid, a piece of machinery. It was a deadly thing, and not because it was built that way, but because of the sheer power and agility it had over you; just because it wasn't fleshy muscle like yourself.
You watched as its fingers flexed against the wood, balancing its unnatural posture as it advanced upon you. It slowly approached you as its nonexistent pupils trained on your stiff-jointed body. It took its sweet time making its way toward you, enjoying the growing tension between you, and it.
You hopelessly tried to squirm away. The restraints heavily limited your locomotion, only allowing you to get a few centimeters away from it. It slowly reached a clawed hand out toward you, quickly snatching the collar of your shirt in its grasp, pulling you closer to its face. The creepy smile widened at your look of unease.
"If-If you would-could stop moving-inching away-back from me-me this could be easier-safer." Its warning came out as a taunt, still carrying the repetitions with the edge of a growl. It was hard to understand exactly what it meant with each added synonym, but you got the bottom line of it… Somewhat.
Without waiting for a nod or some sort of body movement that indicated you had heard it, it released the collar of your shirt. Now it took a stern grasp on your chin, tilting your head upward. It forced you to look into its soulless, socket-less eyeholes, grin widening at your obvious reluctance.
"You-You really are-are a precious thing-object. You-You are perfect-fabulous, such a perfect thing-toy you are." As it spoke, it wiggled its pointer finger between the gag and your skin, this, however, did elicit a growl from the mechanism, which surprisingly wasn't directed toward you. "I told-instructed them not to tie-knot it so tightly-harshly, now look-see at how marked-bruised up you are-are." It almost seemed to whine at your injuries, as if the bruises were hurting it instead of you.
Whether it was trying to show off its tongue or not, you could see the glistening saliva against its silver-gray appendage. A long string of drool slipped past a gap in its teeth, slowly dripping closer and closer to your leg as it carefully inspected your skin, hidden beneath the gag.
Finally, the string of saliva snapped. Coating your skin with a thick lubricant. You jolted back as the salivary solution ran down your leg, surprised by how cold the fluid was. Another growl was drawn from the automation as it pulled the gag forward, more forcefully this time. To your relief, the gag came off easily with the tug.
Unfortunately, the first words that decided to leave your mouth were quite… Irritating to it.
"What the fuck?!"
Chapter End Notes
A quick explanation of Moon's speech patterns, it's mainly randomized with larger words such as 'intriguing' or 'concerning' typically having a repetitive verb.
These words will be italicized, but there may be times when I don't catch them. There is, however, a formatting issue on Ao3's end. When I italicize words it separates the word from the dash, which is put in between the base word and the alternative. I do have to go back and look for these AFTER posting the chapter, and it is entirely possible that I may miss certain patches of text.
I'm truly sorry on my behalf when this happens, and I hope this doesn't affect anyone too severely.
I do also have a Discord Server, so if you'd like to join that feel free.
(The benefits to joining: Announcements for the next chapter, polls (For future events), interacting with other people who've also joined, etc)
Below is the link to joining:
https/discord.gg/zA437hyq6N
Why the Wicked Grin?
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The animatronic withdrew its face away from yours, repulsed by your words. "Such filthy-dirty words that-that come from-from you, that just will not do-do." Its face contorted into a look of disappointment, 'eyeing' you reproachfully.
"And-And here I-we thought-believed we had kidnapped such a perfect-superb Toy." At the realization of 'Toy' being your pet name, you cringed away.
Disgusting.
Absolutely disgusting.
At your hesitant silence, it leaned in closer once more. Its tongue flicked out of its mouth as a snake's would. Glistening saliva dripped from its tongue, another large splatter landing on your thigh. You hesitantly glanced down at the automaton's saliva, thick, clear, and unnatural. "No-No words hm-hmmm?" Taunting. It was taunting you.
You only stared back at it, you refused to give it the satisfaction of yet another slip-up that might possibly come from you. The animatronic held your gaze as if reading your thoughts, but the drawn-out silence seemed to be its hint that you weren't going to say anything.
"P-Pitiful." It snarked, repressing an involuntary stutter. It seemed almost frustrated that you hadn't chosen to fight back. But you assumed that was because it liked wordplay. That it enjoyed making people frustrated.
Its thumb and index finger slid off your chin. "Little-Tiny Thing-Toy, are-are you perhaps hungry-famished?" Its malicious smile returned to its face; a shark-like grin now presented before you.
Yes, you were hungry, but you knew better than to accept food from strangers. Nonetheless, your kidnapper. But each passing second seemed to make you dwell on your gnawing hunger. You could feel your mouth salivate at the thought of something filling your stomach.
You knew the gnawing hunger would only get worse. And that it might be a while before you might get any help. That was if this was a ransom. You weren't quite positive about what type of kidnapping this was. You didn't know how long you might be 'here.'
"I… Guess?" You had to eat. It was for the better.
At your answer, it instantly perked up, jerking up into a somewhat upright position. It stood up and turned toward the balcony entry, a chuckle escaping it as it stepped up onto the balcony platform. Its outstretched hand seemed to 'call' a hook, which was attached to a black tether. It hooked the item to a ring loop on its back, and then… And then, it walked off the edge.
Just like that, you were alone again. The only difference this time was the tension, it wasn't nearly as bad as before. Maybe it was because you knew what to expect when your abductor arrived once more. Perhaps it was because it hadn't directly threatened you yet?
You were alone. Again. Not that you minded, but you quickly found that the looming silence of the atmosphere was almost just as intimidating as your kidnapper. However, you did still prefer the quiet surrounding.
Now, that didn't mean you enjoyed this odd position you were in. You didn't plan on staying, in fact, your freedom was inevitable. But you couldn't just laze about and expect to be rescued. What if… What if no one came for you? You'd be on your own then.
You knew running wasn't going to be a viable option either, it was a machine. It didn't get 'tired' or 'worn out.' Also, not to mention, it'd cover more ground due to its size. It was significantly taller than you, and that, in itself, said a lot.
You had an odd feeling it wasn't going to let its 'Little Thing-Toy' go so easily. It would use its advantages to, well, its advantage. It was only reasonable to assume that escaping was going to be a hard task for you to pull off.
It was going to require planning, timing, and patience, it would be your only way to escape from the animatronic. You needed to form a plan, and quickly, your first attempt at escape would hopefully be your last.
And if it wasn't…
Then you knew it would only keep a more watchful eye, and restrict you from doing anything on your own. It was obvious that your first escape had to be executed perfectly, otherwise, any future escape attempts were going to be a hell of a lot worse.
The thing was already cautious of your want to get away, the restrictions said so themself. And if this was the standard, you could only imagine if you fucked up your breakaway attempt.
It would come with severe consequences from the animatronic itself, and you knew it. Your escape plan had to be perfect, there were going to be absolutely no retakes, and this was going to be the easiest it could possibly get for you.
But it was then that you realized it had spoken of another. You weren't going to avoid not one, but maybe two. How many were in on this? Two? Three? Five? Seven?
Your thoughts on a hamster wheel abruptly stopped when you heard the odd clicking of the mechanical parts. You were surprised that it was back so soon. Or perhaps you had been lost in your own thoughts for too long. Either way, it was back.
There was a small 'clink,' which you assumed was the black rope being hooked to its back. The mechanism landed lightly on the balcony with one of its slippered feet. In its oversized hand, it held a white pizza box branded with…
A Freddy Fazbear logo on the top.
It was then that you realized, you knew exactly where you were and what this thing was.
This was The Pizzaplex.
Glamrock Freddy's face was too iconic. Especially for a person who had been to the large building countless times. There was only one possible answer for the animatronic's place within The Plex.
It was the Daycare Attendant. You had never seen it, and that was because you had never wandered the area of The Daycare. You never had a child to take to The Daycare. But now? Here you were. Being treated as one.
You hadn't recognized that it was part of Fazbear Incorporated's mass of abominations. It didn't fit the style. It didn't fit the theme. And yet, here it was. Considered to be The Daycare Attendant. It was supposed to watch kids.
You had been kidnapped by an animatronic made for children. It was a horrifying realization. It was meant to be a role model; it was meant to be a good example for children who didn't know any better. It was raising the future of humanity.
The animatronic seemed to take note of your shock as a sinister grin was plastered to its face. It didn't have any hesitation at all when it stepped forward to approach your fragile body. Terror filled you as the realization of being kidnapped by a 'Child-friendly' automaton settled in.
Within just a few strides it was crouched down in front of you. "We've-have only-only got pizza for-for now, we-I hope that's-that's not an-an issue-problem?" Its tongue slipped from its mouth as it spoke, retreating out of sight once more, right as it was done talking.
You shied away as it set the pizza box down, also realizing that in its other hand, it had carried a water bottle. Something you hadn't paid attention to due to your… realization.
You suspiciously eyed the box, glancing hesitantly at the animatronic that had obtained a cross-legged position. You testily pulled at your forearm restraints which were still in a muscle aching position. "I'm still tied up…" You pointed out hesitantly as your eyes darted back to the pizza box. Your stomach was starting to cramp up, and the prospect of food right in front of you was really starting to get to you.
"I know-know," it replied, still making no move to untie you. Subconsciously you bit your lower lip as you realized where this was going. Your stomach was now churning at the thought of ingesting something at all.
"Could you untie me?" It was all you could ask, squeamish from the anticipated answer you were expecting. A playful smile returned to its face; you could feel its delight as it gave you its pre-decided answer.
"No."
Chapter End Notes
I'll just put the Discord link at the bottom of every chapter, just so it isn't too hard for y'all to find.
Discord Link:
https/discord.gg/zA437hyq6N
Sun
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
You opened your mouth to prod onwards, perhaps even convince it to untie you, but it cut you off before a sound left your mouth. "You do not-should not think-think we just kidnap people-humans for the sake-fun of it do-do y-you?"
You watched as it leaned over the pizza box separating you from it. "I-We did-did it be-because we find something-thing interesting about-about you, I would-would not have done-done it-it j-just for the fun-thrill of it." It brought one of its hands up to your face, cupping your jaw in its hand, tilting your head upward, exposing the delicate flesh of your neck.
"And-And to re-reimburse you for your-your precious sacrifice, we'll-I'll help our little Toy-Thing in eating. Does-Does that-that not sound fair-fair?" The animatronic's cold fingers lightly grazed the skin of your neck. Goosebumps began to form on your skin, its claws tracing the skin of your collarbone.
"Not really," was all you could say. You didn't want it to do as planned. The only problem was that you couldn't really 'reject' its offer. It was the one in control. You were the one with the short stick, you had no power. Not in its domain.
"That-That is not-not an option Toy." Its claws began to dig into your skin as its grip tightened. Was it laughing? Yes. It knew you were powerless. It knew that you'd have to give in eventually. One way or another.
Panic began to creep into you as you felt the blood beginning to run down your neck. "F-Fine!" As soon as the word left your mouth the animatronic removed its fingers from your skin. It let out one of its chuckles as it lifted its hand to one of its eyes, examining the blood staining the white bits of its hand.
"Where-Where are your manners-manners? It's-It's only-only polite." Snarked the animatronic, its smile couldn't possibly be any wider. It was playing with you. It was stalling. It was stalling, and you were tired of its games.
"I'm not falling for your bullshit." You were too hungry to keep a cool temper. You just wanted the animatronic to stop playing with you. You were sick and tired of it.
The animatronic instantly pulled away to its own side of the pizza box, sticking its tongue out. Repulsed by your words. "Revolting-volting words you-you say-speak. I'll-We'll have to fix-fix that-that." Another string of saliva hung from its tongue, falling onto its sleeve once it finally snapped.
But it still made no move. It only 'looked' at you skeptically. It took you a moment to figure out what it was looking for, but you didn't quite know how to start. As it waited, it crossed its arms, another hint that it was waiting.
It wanted an apology, yes, but was it looking for a sincere one? If so, it wasn't going to be getting a good one. You weren't sorry. In fact, the animatronic should be the one apologizing. It was the one who had kidnapped you. This was all its fault. You were only the victim here.
"I'm… I'm sorry?" It was all you could think to say, what else did it want from you? A whole life story? Your skin was already littered with goosebumps, your terror was only peaking for each passing moment.
But then it finally let out a hiss of acceptance. "Plausible." It snarled, uncrossing its arms. It reached toward the box, revealing the steamy, greasy, and extra cheesy pizza. You felt a tad bit sick at the thought of eating the greasy slices, but you had to. You were already gagging as your body began to debate on what you should do.
But the animatronic made the decision for you. It picked up a medium-sized piece, holding it carefully, your blood still on its hand. It didn't seem to care, making you feel sicker than before. It brought the slice up to your mouth, silently offering it to you. It snarked at your hesitance. "Go on."
Finally, you gave in, ignoring the extreme discomfort. It gave you slice after slice, and, finally, allowed you to reject a fifth (5th). The animatronic smiled, but it didn't seem as menacing as its others. "Satisfied?" You only nodded.
As the animatronic closed the box it began humming a familiar tune. Ring Around The Rosie. (Ring A Ring O' Rosie.) Not the best thing to hum, but who were you to stop it?
It then offered you the bottled water. "Do-Do you-you want some water-water?" Its hand dwarfed the bottle of water, another reason you were scared. It was bigger. Stronger. You nodded in response to its question.
It twisted the cap off, pressing the edge of it up to your mouth. It was a slow process, you couldn't be sure if that was its intention, or if it was attempting to be careful. Either way, the bottle was gone, and the animatronic was continuing with its plans.
"Perfect. Wait here-there. We'll-will go-go set up something-something to get-get you clean-clean." It didn't wait for a response or an act of acknowledgment. It picked the white pizza box up, another little laugh escaping it.
With a quick last glance back at you it scurried over to the balcony. It attached the tether to itself and jumped off the ledge with the two items in its hands. You were now left alone to contemplate. Something instantly brought to your attention was the disgusting state of your body.
It was a horrendous feeling. It was terrible. The blood, the sweat, the remnants of grease on your face. Yeah, this was the definition of disgusting. Really, you were thankful that the animatronic was providing. What it might be providing, however, was another question.
But there was another thing. You still didn't know who this 'we' was. As it spoke it kept stuttering on the terms 'we' and 'I.' It kept using the word 'we' as if it was directly referring to someone with it, but there was no visible presence of another. It could be another animatronic, another person, an employee. It could even be referring to an animal at this point.
But… Why? Why had it gone to such great lengths to kidnap you? Why this, why that, it was all you could think of. Why did it think of you as interesting? Why did it insist on feeding you? Why did it insist on kidnapping you? Why did it call you either 'Toy' or 'Thing?'
Did it really think of you as interesting? Or was it an obsession to be loved by another? How had it successfully kidnapped you? That was another thing, you didn't recall the events of that day or any of the days leading up to your eventual abduction. It was… It was unknown to you how you had gotten into quite the situation.
You hated these questions your thoughts conjured, they were either other-worldly or too close to true. You knew the truth would be mortifying, whether you wanted to know or not was another question that continuously teetered around your thoughts. You really didn't want to be stuck with an obsessed animatronic for eternity, whether they had good intentions or not.
It was somewhat relieving when the animatronic returned, it paused your more, or less, concerning thoughts. You lifted your head to look at the animatronic. It stepped off the balcony, and into the room. It approached the other side of the room, which was littered with cabinets and torn-up furniture. Papers were scattered across the floor, and little objects like pens, pencils, broken crayons, and random glue bottles also seemed to have been carelessly thrown around.
"Thing… Do you know-know who S-Sun is-is?" It said this reproachfully, kicking a bottle of blue glitter glue off to the side, and out of its way. However, it picked up a magenta crayon and held it in its hand, taking it with itself. Was this perhaps the 'we' it had been constantly referring to?
Funny. It was moon-themed, so did that mean that its other was sun-themed? And if that was the case, was the animatronic perhaps named Moon? It seemed logical.
You shook your head 'no.' No. You didn't know. And you weren't sure if you did want to know. But what control did you have over the animatronic's actions?
"Then this will-will be the moment-second that answer-response changes-changes." Commented the animatronic, its hand ghosting over the light switch it was standing beside. The top half was painted yellow and red, the bottom half was painted blue and black.
There were little stickers on each half of the light switch cover. You might've seen it as cute… If you hadn't been kidnapped by the very thing that had decorated it. That was what you assumed anyway. This was its room after all.
It flipped the switch, and the lights stuttered on. Rapid bursts of color blinding you. You turned your face toward the wall, closing your eyes as you waited for the lights to stop spasming. You heard a faint hum; it was the same thing you had heard when the lights had been turned off. The only difference was that it was slowly growing louder, remaining as a constant background noise.
You heard the animatronic struggling, its teeth clicking together as if it were shivering. You opened your eyes, looking over at the animatronic to see it clawing at its face. Your eyes continued to dilate, the colors beginning to tone down the longer you kept them open.
The animatronic was pulling at its face until half of it, the black side, disappeared behind the white crescent part. It was replaced by a light orange, and it looked to be in as much pain as its… Other.
Its 'spikes,' or rather, rays, popped out of the side of its head. Its rays spun, taking the hat with it, the hat was then pushed into the area the rays had originally been occupying. The other rays that hadn't revealed themself, were forcefully pushed out by the hat taking their place.
The shirt it wore began to turn into different colors, the midnight blue turning into a warm orange, the stars, both yellow and white, began to turn into a bright red.
Its pants also began changing, the star patterns fading as the colors became orange and red stripes. The hands of the animatronic turned into alternating colors of yellow and orange, grey for the tips of its fingers.
The only notable thing that hadn't changed was the fabrics around its neck and waist.
The animatronic's hands fell from its face, its white eyes now visible. The animatronic stood up, looking around, taking in its surroundings. There was, however, something different you noticed. The animatronic had paper-white pupils, its eyes just a slight beige.
Its rays cast a shadow over its eyes, allowing the pupils to be seen with ease. You realized that its pupils were glow-in-the-dark, a feature for kids you presumed.
"F-Finally-Finally." Its voice was higher in pitch, but it still carried that odd stutter of its other. You noticed that instantly. It still had the same effects on its voice, lowering the pitch, and giving it a slight hint of a snarl.
Its pupils were looking in your direction, its eyes fixated on you. You weren't sure if you preferred the creepy eyes of… 'Sun.' Or its 'other.' 'Moon.'
But you definitely saw something you weren't expecting. The two, the 'we' was the same thing. It was one animatronic, but there were two different personalities. Except… It seemed that they were completely different… People? No. Things. They were two different things, but they were stuck with one body. A body they had to share, didn't they?
You might've felt bad had the animatronic not kidnapped you. But just as it was showing you no sympathy, you weren't going to show it any.
Its smile was much like its other's, but it seemed more strained. "M-Moon was right-right." It commented, but its smile turned into agitation as the stutter made itself known. It clicked its teeth together, tongue peeking out for just a split second. It was the same color. Silver.
It waited for a motionless second before repositioning its posture, standing upright, clasping its hands behind its back. "Moon was right. You are quite the pretty one!" Really? Was that true? Especially with the way you looked? You were nowhere close to 'looking your best.' It had to be lying.
Also, hey, that was your confirmation the other was named 'Moon.' Fantastic. Yeah, no, you didn't care. It was still a thing to you. And it always would be. It was nothing more than a piece of machinery, created to do a job no other person wanted to take part in.
"Am I?" It came out sarcastically, not that you cared. The animatronic didn't seem to mind, in fact, more shocked that you would doubt yourself.
"I have no reason to lie, in fact, it is prohibited in The Daycare." It shook its head, walking over to you. "You just have low self-esteem, don't you?" It questioned, tapping the place where its 'chin' would've been had it been human.
"Technically, this isn't part of a daycare. Maybe we're near one, but it's not classified as part of it." You didn't know exactly where you were. But you could see the play structures of the daycare far below. The balcony, and its room, were, however, probably not considered part of it.
It looked at you skeptically, "I guess you're right." It finally said, deciding to drop the topic. It kneeled in front of you, much closer than its other had. It pulled you into its body, but you were still unable to do anything. It made careful movements to not jab you in the head with its rays.
You felt its finger hook the cordon that was keeping your forearms pressed together. You felt your forearm press together even more as the material tightened around your skin. But, just as quickly as it had tightened around your limbs, it loosened. The animatronic maneuvered your arms free, your shoulders feeling stiff and sore.
You held onto the side of the animatronic as it began untying your ankles. The animatronic grumbled something, it then gave up trying to be 'neat,' and just tore the ribbon off. Ribbon. Wonder where they got that from.
Out of habit, you mumbled a thank you to it, the animatronic then stood up, taking you with it as its sharp claws dug into your side. You let out a gasp at the unexpected pain. You tried to push away, but to no avail were you successful.
The animatronic, instead, brought you close to its chest, straddling you carefully as it whispered soft apologies to you. You noticed that it was now using the palm of its hands instead of its fingers for fear of hurting you. It walked over to the balcony, standing at the edge.
You heard a soft click as the hook was attached to its back. "Don't look down." It taunted, which, of course, you instantly looked down. While to some it might've looked pretty with all the color, you instantly regretted it. The Daycare's features were small from your view within the animatronic's hands.
You wrapped your arms around the animatronic, clinging on as best you could. You tried your best to avoid looking down, closing your eyes. You felt it step forward. That one step led to the two of you relying on a singular wire.
Your stomach tightened, your body tensing up. It was fucking horrible. You hated it. You felt sick. The seconds drawing out longer than they should have. Your moment of instant relief was when the animatronic's slippers connected with the floor.
The large animatronic noticed your terror-stricken state and instead exchanged reassuring words with you. "You should stop worrying, I-we would never let something bad happen to you, that'd be so irresponsible of me!" Again, it stuttered, but it only shook its head to stop itself from stuttering anymore.
"Where are you taking me?" Your voice came out like a squeak in the large area of The Daycare. The animatronic began walking over to a pair of large doors, using a hand to open one of the doors.
Instantly your curious brain darted around taking in the details you were sure to be using later. Maybe not now, but it was going to be critical to your 'great' escape.
It oddly felt like Deja-vu, your brain recognizing a few features such as the posters, merchandise stores, and even the tiled flooring.
"To the employee w-washrooms!" You watched its face contort into a look of irritation as the stutter broke through, you decided it was better not to say anything about it. Instead, you gave it a slight nod that would've been enough to indicate you had heard it.
But you were, however, curious about its stutter, you decided you'd have to ask 'Moon' about it since its other seemed to be less irritated with the reflexive speech pattern. It could be coding, or it could be a habit, but assuming wouldn't be the best course of action, especially on the topic of something you didn't quite understand.
After what felt like a couple of minutes the even strides came to a halt. The animatronic stood in front of a gray/grey metal door. The animatronic opened the door by waving its hand in front of, what you assumed, was an ID scanner. It walked through, and, without warning, set you down. You stumbled as you tried to gain your balance, the animatronic catching your upper arm as you got used to standing.
You then realized that you were standing by the edge of a stairwell, suddenly, and unfortunately, thankful that the animatronic had caught you. You suppressed a 'Thank you' as the animatronic's grip traveled down to your hand, its hand practically covering the entirety of your own.
It led you down the stairs taking two stairs at a time, but, nevertheless, making sure it wasn't dragging you along with it. More so that it was just 'leading' you. Finally, the two of you reached the bottom, but it didn't bother picking you up again instead guiding you down the hallway. The floor was cold against your exposed feet. Unsanitary it was.
The animatronic continued to pass a multitude of doors and vents. Another way you could escape was through a vent, but you were going to need time and patience since you would have to wait till opening hours before you could actually escape. The plan already forming in your brain giving a slight shimmer of hope. You wouldn't be able to pull it off at the moment, but… You could always try in the near future.
You were pulled out of your thoughts as the animatronic pulled you to the side, opening a door labeled 'Employee Washrooms.' The second you were far enough away from the threshold; it closed the door. You instantly noticed the moisture hanging in the air. They had already chosen one of the shower stalls for you to use.
The animatronic glanced down at you and your puny hand. It held your hand up, examining the size difference between the two of you. It then released your hand, walking over to the shower causing all the evaporation. It gestured at the white, unstained curtains draping across the length of the shower space.
You followed behind, giving an uncertain gaze at the staring animatronic. "No privacy?" You commented skeptically as it continued staring down at you with its unblinking gaze.
You watched as the edge of its lips twitch as it strained to hide its true feelings, the smile turning into a finicky one. Finally, it turned around, obvious hesitancy being shown as stared at the door the two of you had come from.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes, using the given opportunity to shed your greasy, sweaty, and absolutely disgusting clothes. You bundled them up and set them on the bench beside the white towel. Ew, white towels… They looked fancy but during… certain situations were an absolute menace to society, especially for those who were female.
You slipped past the curtain stepping onto the smoldering hot tiled floor. The burning water made you jump back against the wall in an attempt to avoid the scalding hot water.
Suppressing a yelp, you reached toward the faucet and turned it in the direction you assumed to make the water colder. Given the fact that it was turned all the way to the left, you were assuming the animatronic had no idea how showers and humans correlated with each other.
As you waited for the water to adjust you noticed 3 small bottles placed in the corner of the shower. You instantly recognized that they were containers filled with shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Silently relieved that the animatronic wasn't going to make you ask for them.
You stuck your hand out, feeling that the water was up to a reasonable temperature. You stood so that the stream of water was washing off the blood and grease on your skin. Your wound stung as the water hit it, but you figured it was for the better. Speaking of which… You looked down at it. You instantly regretted it.
The wound was a dark red, it ran deep into your skin and was split open in a way that you could see the flesh beneath your skin. The water beneath your feet was red, washing away the blood from the multiple amounts of injuries on your body.
This was just another example of 'theirs.' The animatronic had injured you, force-fed you, and kidnapped you, they thought nothing of you, and what they had done was not justifiable. They could at least be more careful with you. But, instead, here you were, openly bleeding.
In an attempt to calm your seething anger directed toward the animatronic, you grabbed the bottle of what you assumed to be holding the Shampoo.
You put a dime-sized amount in the palm of your hand and began to scrub it into your overly greasy hair. You recognized the scent of Grapefruit and Bergamot as you worked the thick substance into your hair, your nerves slowly unwinding at the refreshing smell.
You didn't forgive them. You would never. But you could keep a cool mind and rethink the entire situation. It didn't seem like you were in any… immediate danger at the moment, but it was only your first day with the malign animatronic. Yes, you were hurt, but you would live… Hopefully.
A way to escape, that's what you really needed. You already had a few ideas in mind, but you also had a feeling that the animatronic would be on the lookout for any suspicious behavior.
But what would they deem suspicious behavior? They didn't know you. They didn't know your personality. Not yet anyway. That only confirmed that you couldn't let them see the real you.
The consequences of failing were far too great. Not only did you not know what would happen if they caught you, but you also didn't know what you'd have to do to avoid being caught. You really weren't in the mood to think about all the horrid things they might do to you if they found out you were trying to escape. Especially if it were in the act.
Driving the sickening thoughts away, you rinsed your hair. It was refreshing to feel clean and hygienic every once in a while, especially when you were trapped with a possessive animatronic. Especially then.
You moved on, deciding to wash the blood off yourself. Each of your wounds left a single word in your mind. 'Animatronic.' You hated it. You hadn't even spent that much time with it, and you hated it.
Each part of your body you cleaned off, you thought of the animatronic. You wouldn't be covered in injuries. You wouldn't have to worry about being secretive. You wouldn't have to worry about the consequences of your actions. Everything you did might possibly be used against you.
You hurriedly finished off your hair, rubbing conditioner into the ends. It was a relishing feeling to be clean. But you had to go back to the animatronic eventually. It would always be there. Waiting.
You hated them for everything. They had kidnapped you, hurt you, taunted you, and even stripped your rights of being an actual human being from you. You'd rather be lonelier than dirt than be with them.
You eventually sucked it up, turning the shower off. You were done with dwelling on yourself. You were tired of your mind constantly going back to the animatronic. You just wanted to be far away from the automaton.
You heard the animatronic shuffling around. You stuck your head out from the shower curtain, being careful to keep your body covered. Thankfully, the animatronic was looking away from you. At least it was respecting your 'request.'
You quickly snatched the white towel from the bench. You wrapped your body up, shivering from the cold air that hit your skin. But it was then that a more, or less, embarrassing thought crossed your mind.
Clothing.
You needed clothing, which you hadn't seen on the bench when you went to grab it. And neither had you noticed the animatronic leave the room. Evidently, that meant you had to ask. Embarrassing, isn't it?
"Sun?"
"What can I do for you?" It sounded overly delighted that you knew its name, taking on a sing-song voice to accommodate the sentence. Irritating. That's what it was.
"Could I have some clothes please?" It took a lot in you to not make yourself sound sheepish and self-conscious. This was an embarrassing thing to ask on its own. In this situation? It was infinitely worse.
The problem wasn't that you would be seen by other people, but that an animatronic, which probably had a photographic memory, would relish in the forever memory. It would be an absolutely perverted move on the animatronic's part.
"S'pose I can do that. Give me a moment, I'll be back real soon." It let out a chuckle as it said this. Its looming shadow disappeared.
The sound of the door closing officially told you that you were now alone.
Chapter End Notes
Discord Link:
https/discord.gg/zA437hyq6N
Enragement
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Left alone in the thinning steam, you waited. Goosebumps had begun to form on your skin, the cold air unpleasant. You hadn't been all too worried beforehand, but now you were starting to feel uneasy about what the animatronic had possibly planned out for you. Surely the animatronic was reasonable…Right? It had been made for children, so it had to know how to be fair to everyone, including adults... Right?
You had to admit you were suspicious of the animatronic's antics and intentions, but that was probably the least of your concerns, it was something that you were probably going to find out anyway. You had so many questions, but they were all questions you had no answers to.
They were questions that would dwell into you, questions that would nag you, but you would never have answers. Your brain could only guess and assume, you could predict and hypothesize, but you would never know until you were free of the animatronic. It was absolutely tedious the way your brain danced around these questions, it really only aroused more questions, and yet, you would never remember these questions, nor their answers.
Your brain couldn't keep track of any of them, nor did you necessarily want to, that was unless the question was one of value. Something actually answerable and worth knowing about. Those were not the kind of questions you liked; those were the exact questions you tended to avoid. Except right now. Right now, you seemed to be attracting them like a coffee addict was to coffee.
Through your mind's content torture roundabout, you tightened the towel around your body, feeling highly insecure, both internally and externally. In your mind were all the questions that pressed every button inside of you. You didn't want to think about the world as it moved on without you, it was a horrible train of thought. You didn't want to think about how your family probably hadn't noticed your absence, or how the animatronic had easily plucked you from your life without anyone noticing. It was… It was scary to think about.
And physically? You were straight-up naked, being monitored by something not even human. You were being forced to rely on the animatronic, hoping that it understood all of your needs and wants, hoping that one day you could escape with absolute certainty. You wanted everything to go back to the way they once were. Back when you didn't know the animatronic or its counterpart.
This lifestyle wasn't for you, it just didn't feel right. Being all cooped up and forced to rely on something that was made to watch over children. You weren't a child. You had a job, you had gotten your degree, and you had an entire family.
You mindlessly trace your finger over your wound. It brought another barrage of questions, what did the animatronic really think about you? It seemed to have a love-hate relationship with you, it had injured you, but not even a few minutes ago it was being nice. On top of that, the injury must've been fairly recent, perhaps right before you had woken up, otherwise, it would have already been scabbed over. So, did it like you? Or did it hate you? Had it even been the one to cause the wound?
Maybe. Maybe not. You couldn't think of any other way it might've occurred. Not in a way that made any sense at least. On top of that, you wanted to know how the animatronic had kidnapped you, and how it had gotten away with it.
Maybe the wound was an accident that had happened during the kidnapping? The painful abrasion could mean something or nothing at all. You wanted to know; your curious brain was eager to dissect the story. It just wasn't something you could pull apart and figure out yourself. You'd have to go digging for details, and the only one you could ask was the animatronic itself. And the animatronic was the last thing you wanted to talk to. You had many questions. Too many.
Your breath instinctively hitched as your fingers traced over a patch of swollen skin. Hot, painful bruises. You looked down at the festering wound, pulling the white towel down just a bit to clear your view. The large bruise beneath the wound looked similar to the ones on your forearms and ankles, the only difference was the blistering red that hinted at a rash.
It was painful. Very painful. It was like a bug bite that itched uncontrollably, but every time something touched it, it hurt. As you resisted a hiss of pain you folded the towel over so that you could hold a clean part of the white fabric over the ugly wound that festered on your skin.
You already knew the towel was going to need to be bleached in order to get the blood out. You weren't going to lie; you had been thinking of a different type of blood when you first saw the white fabric of the towel.
Yes, it was a disgusting thought to instinctively have, but it was just female anatomy, something that just couldn't be helped. And it wasn't going to help you anytime soon, especially while you were in such an upsetting predicament.
Females really did get the short end of the stick, didn't they? Having to indulge the birth of a flesh bag, always womanized for every little thing they do, typically being born with a weaker corporal build, always prone to stupid things like body gain.
It just… It just didn't help your situation; in fact, it only made it worse. Worse than you would've liked.
It was frustrating to you; your body was going to practically force you into a state of despair and embarrassment in front of your kidnapper. They were factors that weren't all too active yet, but they were soon to be pushed into motion soon. Much too soon for your liking.
As you thought of the problems you were sure to encounter soon, you couldn't help but fidget from side to side. What were you going to say? Nonetheless, do when those factors did kick in. How was an animatronic that didn't have to worry about such a thing on occasion, going to take care of someone else? Specifically, you.
You could only hope the animatronic had something it could do. You didn't want to start bleeding all over the floor, that was, one, unsanitary. Two, embarrassing. And three, just plain disgusting. As much as you wanted to leave it to the animatronic to deal with, you couldn't. It was your body, your responsibility. It was a huge chunk of the remaining dignity you had left, that was if it wasn't the last of it.
But this was the thing with you, overthinking everything. Perhaps you wouldn't even be in the building by the time any of that happened, maybe you would've escaped by then. Not maybe. Hopefully. Hopefully, you would've escaped by then.
All you could do was think of how to escape and plan each and every one of your future moves. And in honesty, there was a viable option that you could put into action now, you could try to run now. But the funny thing was, your brain easily went against it.
Despite how easy and simplistic it was, it was unethical. The animatronic could already be on its way back, you could run into an employee, which actually wouldn't be all that bad. In fact, it might even be the end goal you were looking for, it would just be… Embarrassing for you.
The only thing you had to cover your body with was a towel crusted in blood. And the towel was just barely covering all of the more… Privatized areas of your body.
And maybe you could get past a little bit of embarrassment if it meant the rest of your life, but there was the problem of the animatronic. What was to stop it from harming, nonetheless killing personnel?
It wouldn't only just endanger you, but someone else, and on that off chance, it meant you wouldn't be free. You would witness someone get seriously injured, if not murdered, and you would still be stuck with a psychotic animatronic. You hated to admit it, but it just wasn't worth it.
Why had the animatronic chosen you? They proclaimed it was 'love.' And you proclaimed it was 'bullshit.' You were one in many. On top of that, you had never met the animatronic before. It seemed to be a freak accident of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
But even that didn't seem right either, it had to have planned such a great feat. That meant you had to know it from before. From before it had kidnapped you. It had probably been planning for so long, waiting until just the right moment.
So… How, where, and when had you met the animatronic? You didn't remember anything about it. Design-wise, voice or theme. You would've remembered a voice like its own. A colorful design that screamed attention. A unique theme that applied to a very select few.
It didn't make sense. How did the animatronic know you if you had never interacted with, or even seen it? How had you gotten victimized when you were surrounded by so many greater minds?
There were just so many questions and not enough answers. But there would never be enough answers, would there?
You just wanted to know. You wanted to remember. But you couldn't. You just couldn't. You felt even more powerless than you did before.
It was frustrating. The endless questions with no answers. The possible threat that you might never go back to your normal life. Everything would be changed. Trauma. Memories. The soon-to-be scars.
It was putting you in a finicky and snappy mood, the uncompromised situation getting worse and worse. Though everyone knows the famous saying, 'Life isn't fair,' you couldn't help but think that it just wasn't fair.
You were being forced into problems that you would never have had to worry about before. Now you were a ragdoll. You were being rag-dolled. You didn't have a choice over what you wore. You didn't have a choice over what you ate, or how you might spend your free time.
You only riled yourself up the more you thought about the stupid situation you had managed to get yourself in. Mindlessly you fidgeted with the lip of the towel. Escaping. It was the only thing on your mind. It just so happened to be one of the only things you couldn't do.
Upset and confused, you decided to turn the ongoing reality around in your head. You could start with what you knew, that was always the better option.
Right?
You decided to start with the restraints… Why would they be needed if you were trapped on a balcony? Perhaps there was another entrance to the room? Were they perhaps scared that you'd somehow make it back to ground level? So… How could you do that? Where could it be? You hadn't seen anything, maybe there was another reason for it?
Maybe. Maybe not.
It was irritatingly amusing that your brain could think of so many questions. So many scenarios. None of which could be answered. Your brain was only getting antsier and antsier by the passing second. In a way, you wanted the animatronic to return, just so that you weren't left alone with your provocative thoughts. In another way, you could barely stand being near the animatronic.
It was an enticing opportunity to try and escape, but by how long you had been thinking you already knew it was on its way back. It would be illogical to even try. Pointless even. You knew the attempt wasn't going to be successful. What would you do after you left the room? What could you do?
It would be a wild goose hunt. You didn't even know where to go. You didn't know where you might be able to hide. Maybe you could find an employee? The chances were, however, slim. It would also be an embarrassing and an equally dangerous opportunity.
Point was, it wasn't a reliable plan. Something you would rather use as a very last resort. You had a feeling a lot of your plans were going to end up like that, they were probably going to be plans that heavily relied on other factors.
But maybe, just maybe, you could do something with the sliver of time the animatronic left you alone. It wouldn't be an escape attempt, but rather a time to stockpile for one. You assumed both were going to be essential to being able to get out. You would rather be prepared for an escape rather than ditch all your brain cells the first second the animatronic was out of view.
If you were going to be safe you weren't going to put any plans into action without thinking. There was something the animatronic had to be going off of. Perhaps some kind of interval system that kept it in a routine? Surely you could try using one yourself.
Perhaps… Perhaps…
You really wanted to escape before the animatronic even realized you were long gone. You didn't want it to realize that you were escaping while you were in the building. If it got mad… You were sure it would wreak havoc upon the entire building, turning it upside until it finally found you once more.
That was the problem. It was going to be risky. Very risky. But the reward was far too great. You would be free from the animatronic's grasp, life would be… somewhat normal.
Getting away already seemed like a faraway dream, the animatronic had already demanded things from you that you had shown an unwillingness to comply to. The animatronic wasn't going to let you go so easily. You already knew that escaping wasn't going to be easy.
The animatronic was forcing you to obey, it was forcing you to become a hopeless, reckless mess. You were sure by the time you were performance-fit, free of all wounds; the animatronic would catch onto your finicky and nervous behavior at the thought of being so close to freedom.
You decided that resorting to a safer option was the better decision. It was better than attempting to run while openly bleeding. It was evident the time for enaction was not now. That was unmistakably clear.
Just as you began to think of other ways to make use of your time, you heard bells. The soft jingle you had already come to recognize as the animatronic's unintentional way of warning you that it was close by.
Each jingle was louder than the one before, signaling that the animatronic was moving quickly. Now your thoughts had moved to an entirely different train, you began wondering what clothing options the animatronic was going to provide you with. And what was going to happen to you next?
But other grotesque thoughts wrapped their way into your head. You could already picture the creepy animatronic in your mind. Its blank stare. Its unnerving way of talking.
It disgusted you.
You hated it.
You hated yourself, your brain, for being able to picture such a clear image of the animatronic.
"Guess who." It chuckled once more. You didn't have to guess. You'd remember its voice anywhere. It was like white on black. It was blatantly obvious. It was hideous the way they acted like this was, more, or less, normal. It wasn't. It would never be. This might be their normal, but you refused to call it yours.
The animatronic pushed all your buttons, and you couldn't even be sure if it was intentional at this point. "Hello?" You could sense the hint of panic in its voice. Of course, you didn't care how it felt right now.
It took a lot to stifle a snarky response. But you might as well have gone with one. Your simplistic word, filled with irritation was no better.
"What?" You had gone from keeping a cool leveled mind to being damn well near exploding. You were annoyed that the animatronic just couldn't see your side of the equation. That what it was doing was blatantly wrong.
No one would expect that an animatronic, specifically made for children, would kidnap anyone.
And that was why no one would ever expect you had been kidnapped by the animatronic.
All the thoughts of escaping and the troubles you might occur while doing so only made your mood worse. You weren't scared or sad, you were upset, and you were absolutely pissed at the animatronic's lack of foresight.
But, of course, the animatronic wasn't going to understand your frustration. Of course, it was just going to make everything worse. How could it possibly make anything 'better' with its sweet-talking voice?
"What's wrong, Thing? Where's all this impatience coming from?" Oh. Oh how much you hated the animatronic. Its overly sweetened voice did nothing but enrage the building anger inside you.
It was talking to you as if you were its pet. Using the kinder side of its voice, as if you'd understand it better that way. It was purposely making you feel small. Small and fragile. As if you were a tiny ant compared to it.
Salty hot tears began to stream down your face and onto your cheeks as you tried to contain your anger. You weren't anywhere near the emotion of sadness.
You couldn't verbally express how wrong its actions were. That's how much you hated it. That's how much you wished it would leave you alone and throw you back into the ocean you called normal.
"This is ridiculous! All of it! You expect me to act 'normally' when this isn't! I don't understand why you think I'm going to let you manipulate my entire life. I have a family, friends, a job, and things to take care of! And… And you just pushed those factors aside, only caring for your own selfishness. You're keeping me here against my will, all so that you can satisfy your own obsession of… Of whatever this is."
You hated it. You hated it, and, despite that, you still felt a little bad. "I'll… Always hate you." You couldn't help the feeling of guilt that crawled into your stomach. It made you feel terrible, it made you regret saying anything.
And the silence.
The silence made everything worse.
"We… Understand that. But we're-are not that bad-bad!" You hated how it made you feel guilty. You didn't like the stomach-cramping feeling. It was horrible. It made you feel like you were going to throw up. "We did a-a lot just so that you c-could be with us forever. Why-Why does that not-not excite you as-as much as it does us-us?"
Was it trying to guilt trip you? Was trying to get you to feel sympathetic? Or was this genuine? Did it really mean all of that? It terrified you. You didn't want to stay with them for 'forever.' You didn't want to be with them right now.
"Because… Because you kidnapped me. I have nothing of what I had a week ago. I don't have any freedom here. And… I just don't feel the same way you do for me. I will never love you. I have no reason to."
You felt awful. Absolutely awful. You hated that you had said anything. But it was the truth. It had to know. It needed to understand that you would never return its feelings. It needed to know that that was the truth.
The animatronic was silent. Its shadow appeared in the white curtain, and you half expected it rip off. But it didn't. "We're… S-Sorry. B-But I-we can't-can't let you go now." It spoke decisively despite the wavering undertone of its voice.
You half-wished you hadn't said anything. But you did. And you couldn't go back now. "My clothing…" Was it really 'yours?' "Did you get any?" It was now.
What else were you supposed to say? Nothing. There was nothing else you could say. You wiped the tears from your eyes. Terrible. You felt terrible.
You felt terrible for acting like a jerk toward the animatronic, but it was well-deserved. You shouldn't have felt anywhere near as bad as you did. Keyphrase. Shouldn't have. You, in fact, couldn't help but feel bad for the animatronic. All it did was make you feel so much worse.
"R-Right, s'pose that I can only offer you a uniform, is that alright-right with you?" You could hear how hurt it had been by your words and it only made you feel like the shittiest person in the world. You couldn't help but feel like a complete antagonist. You weren't one. But you really felt like one.
"It's fine." You couldn't help but hate yourself, you were feeling small and pathetic now that the afterburn of your swelling anger was coming down from its boiling point.
You watched as the animatronic pushed aside the curtain, just enough so that it could hold out the clothing for you to take. You took the neatly folded pile into your hands, trying your best to avoid touching the animatronic's cold hand.
The small stack was composed of grey clothing, a packaged item stuffed between the pants and the long-sleeved shirt. You quickly realized that what the animaronic had brought you was an employee uniform. The packaged item was an undergarment. You were, thankfully, relieved.
But that just made the regret hurt even more.
It then occurred to you that that may have been why it took the animatronic so long. You were also relieved that the animatronic brought you it in packaging, had it not been you would've been entirely grossed out, only questioning the origins of which it came from.
The actual clothing was a long-sleeve button-up shirt, and the lower half was the standard pants you'd expect for any other uniform. You decided you could get past the plain design, and just be thankful the animatronic actually gave you something to wear.
You quickly noticed the white patch letters spelled 'Staff.' On the left side of the button-up shirt were the letters S, T, A, F, and another F. Which, of course, spelled out 'Staff,' but the acronym for it was… questionable. Why they would put an acronym on the shirt if no one knew what it meant?
You quickly realized you were staring mindlessly at the clothing, snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you began to clothe yourself. Starting with the lower half.
You found that the pants weren't too bad, you decided you could endure wearing them for the time being. The long-sleeved shirt, however, was going to be a problem. You really didn't want to risk worsening the already swollen laceration. But you couldn't walk around topless either.
So, sucking it up, you slipped your arms into the sleeves. You began to button up the shirt, deciding to leave the last button undone, hoping that it wouldn't be as bad on your injury.
You gathered your best poker face, folding your towel and putting the trash on top of it. You pushed the curtain to the side, stepping out into the open. Almost instantly you felt the burning stare of the animatronic.
You looked up to meet with the white-ringed pupils of the animatronic. Your throat dried up as you looked up at the massive animatronic. "Where should I put these?" It hurt to speak, you had been struck with fear… And regret.
"I can take them. D-Do what it is that you wish to-to do." It said slowly, taking the two items into its clawed hands. It turned away from you and left the room once more. Taking care of both the towel and the trash.
It was also then, that the animatronic's words dawned upon you. It was allowing just a tiny bit of locomotion to you, and you weren't going to let such an opportunity slide, you already had a few ideas of what you could use the given time for.
You decided to look around. Not for any bad reason. But that you were just curious.
Too curious for your own good.
Chapter End Notes
Discord Link:
https/discord.gg/zA437hyq6N
A Look Around
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The second the animatronic was through the door, and the bells had died out in the distance your brain came back to you. You went to the cabinet on the farthest end on the left, you assumed that you could make the excuse that you were looking for after-shower care products.
But when you opened the cabinet, you immediately retaliated. Your hand pulling away and your eyes looking away. A bottle of lubricant made exactly for what you'd think it'd be for.
Masturbation and intercourse.
Now, you were scared to open any of the other cabinets. You eyed the bottle suspiciously before closing the cabinet. Moving to the next cabinet beside it.
It really wasn't any better. If not worse.
It was a vibrator. An extra-large one at that.
You were truly repulsed. Utterly disgusted. Holding the urge to feel anything other than revolt, you slammed the cabinet shut. You covered your mouth as you looked away, you weren't sure if this was a good idea now.
Yes, you were an adult, you could handle things. But you were not in the mood, and this certainly wasn't the time or place for anything so devious.
One more try, you couldn't find anything worse, right? You lifted your shaky hand to the next cabinet; you were wavering now. Did you really want to find anything else?
Deciding to push your luck you swung the cabinet open. Well, something normal was awaiting you. An entire drawer full of body wash was perfectly fine. Perfectly acceptable. Yeah, you were still on edge.
Ok, another round of testing your luck? Yes. You would always say 'yes,' wouldn't you?
You opened the next drawer, there was a hairbrush. You pulled it out and examined it, noticing the yellow sticky note on the back. You pulled it off before reading the singular word written in a cursive-like font. Maybe a
little
too neat for your liking. But who were you to complain?
"~Complimentary~"
You figured the animatronic meant that everything in the cabinet was complimentary, which seemed fair enough to you. With that mindset, you pulled out the toothbrush as well.
You put the two packaged items on the countertop, smooth marble-colored beige, a good decision that matched the rest of the interior of the shower room. It definitely would've been better had the door not been an ugly gray.
But that wouldn't be the reason why you kept eyeing it, you couldn't stop glancing over just in case the animatronic walked in, and you hadn't heard its bells. You were paranoid. Way too paranoid.
You could feel the clock ticking, your paranoia making you hear the distant ringing bells. It was your guilt. It was your guilt that seemed to be after you, and you hated it. All humans carried guilt. Some just had it worse than others.
But you did, however, have an excuse. You could always say you were looking for toothpaste, right? That wasn't abnormal. Was it? Of course, it wasn't.
You decided to continue looking through the drawers, you couldn't spare time. You crumpled the sticky note and shoved it in your pocket. When the animatronic had written that? You didn't know. But you honestly didn't care either.
It just so happened that one of the next few drawers you checked did have toothpaste. Brand new too. How… Interesting? It was then, however, that it occurred to you. That the animatronic had probably gone through and checked the other cabinets. Did that mean they knew the other things were in there?
It was only logical that they did, right? There might've been something that could help you in escaping. You hated that thought, knowing that you had probably missed out on such a viable opportunity.
Well, at least they were allowing you to be hygienic. You were sure most other kidnappers wouldn't allow that. So, you could think that they were being nice. But at the same time, they had also force-fed you. But again, that was what a 'regular' kidnapper would do, right? You didn't know. You were just making up reasons at this point.
You decided you didn't like thinking about the subject, instead busying your brain with other things. Tearing the toothbrush from its packaging, you applied the toothpaste.
Still agitated with yourself, you put the toothbrush into your mouth. Instantly realizing that you had forgotten to add water. But you were too annoyed to do anything about it, so, you just accepted the consequences of your actions.
You were, maybe, a little thankful for the animatronic. That didn't mean you didn't hate it. You had been kidnapped by an animatronic made to entertain children.
It was meant to protect and guard those who were unable to defend themself. And yet, here it was. Forcing you to the point of being completely helpless.
You knew you were going to be staying a lot longer than a couple of days. Your body needed to heal. The bruises, the creeping sensation of a migraine, your tired muscles.
You had only made things worse when you told the animatronic how you really felt. You hadn't told it everything, but you had said enough. It knew that you hated it. It knew that you weren't going to accept that you'd be stuck with them.
Now all you could do was hope that the animatronic didn't act upon those words. That it didn't do anything to make everything worse for you. All you could do was lie to it, and hope that it believed you.
But lying was hard. You had to keep track of each 'little' lie you told. You had to be consistent. It wasn't just going to happen; the pieces weren't going to fall into place. You had to act.
You were just going to have to take the bullet and hope you recovered. You needed to gain its trust. You had to get out. You needed to find a way to build a bond of trust with it. All you needed to do was wait for the perfect time.
You just wished you could mute your thoughts and silence them forever. You hated the way your brain made everything so complicated. You hated the way it twisted and pondered over the smallest of things. Making you think of the worst possible scenarios.
Forgetting that you were brushing your teeth in haste, you spat the toothpaste out. The mint base beginning to burn your tongue. You attempted to use the faucet water to get the taste out of your mouth, but, unfortunately, were only making it worse.
You tossed the toothbrush on the countertop and fell back on the bench separating the rows of showers from each other. You rubbed your face on the inside of your left sleeve. You really needed to find a way to calm down. Before you let anything else slip.
You tugged at the collar of your baggy shirt, which had begun rubbing against the skin of your neck. The elastic snapped back, but you barely noticed the stinging pain.
It was then that you heard the distant bells.
Great. It was back. You were going to have to physically bite your tongue if you wanted to prevent yourself from snapping at the animatronic again. At any moment you expected to see the animatronic open the door.
You weren't looking forward to seeing its odd pupils, unnatural smile, sharp teeth, or overly enthusiastic voice. It would be their forceful ways that were going to be the thing that'd get you killed. All you wanted was freedom.
You were waiting for that opportunity.
An opportunity that might never come.
Chapter End Notes
Discord Link:
https/discord.gg/zA437hyq6N
The Offer
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Yes, the brighter side of the animatronic had been upset by the time it came back for you. Luckily your little slip of hatred toward it didn't stop it from making conversation.
But you knew it was still thinking over your words, it still had that odd stutter in its voice, and even it still continued to flinch away from its own voice.
Clearly, what you had said was going to stick with it for quite a while, you could only hope that it would forget about it or leave it behind sometime soon.
Its sorry attempts to socialize with you weren't the worst, but the intentions weren't necessarily all too clear either. Whether that was a good or a bad thing wasn't up to you though.
You had a feeling it was trying to distract you while it forced you to play its questionnaire. Now, it wasn't that you disliked any of the questions it asked, which mainly included your favorite book, color, and pet peeves, but that it was insistent that it be the one to ask you the questions. Each time you had tried to redirect the conversation and ask about the animatronic's own preferences it simply deflected you and told you that its opinions didn't matter.
But it was little things like that that made you dislike the animatronic. It wasn't the best at making proper conversation and made you feel oddly self-absorbent with each question it asked. You were glad it had tried to distract you though, in reality, you were just a spiteful person.
It was something that was interchangeable, the worst part about it was that you knew you wouldn't get away with your sour attitude forever. You needed to start watching where you stepped before you fell right into a hole too deep to climb out of.
Plus, hadn't you promised yourself to stay on their 'good side?' You knew it was for the better, but you could only take so much before you finally broke and snapped back.
It was also going to be extremely annoying to get on their better side if they kept throwing you headfirst into new situations.
Now would be a terrific example of that.
The lights had been turned off leaving you in the dim lighting of small LEDs lining the edge of the wall and the corner of the ceiling. You were now faced with the crescent face of the night-themed animatronic. The stars along its plush fabric were faintly lit, you weren't too sure if it was because of the LEDs or if they were never meant to glow all too brightly in general.
If you were going to be honest, you didn't dislike Moon all too much, but you certainly didn't care for the automaton either. It had a completely different personality compared to its counterpart, which ultimately did intrigue you, but it also had its own drawbacks as well. Like the animatronic being unpredictable. You were oblivious to how their AI would respond to things. How they would react to anything you said, anything you did.
As of now, the animatronic, Moon, was trying to get you to eat a dark blue pill. "C-C'mon, it's nothing-nothing b-bad." Stuttered the large animatronic for what you could only count as the sixth (6th) time in the past few minutes.
You were in a skeptical mood due to the other's oddly kind persistence putting you on edge. Luckily though you had good reason not to talk, fearful that the animatronic would stuff the medium-sized pill into your mouth the second you opened it to talk.
It just so happened that it also held your sour words from spilling out. Though you weren't sure if that was enough to avoid irritating the animatronic, body language did (unfortunately) still exist.
You crossed your arms and turned your head away, instead focusing your eyes on the dim, blue-toned lights. "Please-Please Please?" Begged the animatronic who sat cross-legged from you, the blue tablet being absolutely dwarfed in the ginormous palm of the animatronic's hand.
You rolled your eyes before pulling the collar of the 'borrowed' uniform over your nose, effectively covering your mouth. You then glared at the animatronic hoping that it'd be enough of a signal to get it to stop trying.
It clicked its tongue in response, doing a small head motion that suggested it was rolling its eyes. "F-Fine, last-final offer, take-take it or leave-abandon it-it." It grumbled, already knowing you'd reject it. Its face slowly contorted into a frown as you just stared at the pill.
You finally shook your head, eyes narrowing at the object that looked so small in the animatronic's larger hand. "Fine." Responded the animatronic who almost instantly tilted its faceplate up and held the tablet over its now gaping maw.
You watched as its long silver and dark gray/grey striped tongue wrapped around the tablet. A salivary solution dripping from its vulgar tongue. You watched with distaste as its tongue curled around the pill, the stripes confusing your brain as you tried to figure out how its tongue was twisted around the tiny tablet made of who knows what.
You struggled to keep your face from showing a look of utter disgust, you subconsciously leaned away from the animatronic who seemed intent on making you feel queasy or revolted by absolutely everything it did.
You looked away, twisting your body to the side so as to not strain your neck too much. You could already feel the image of its tongue creeping into your mind. You had seen it before when it occasionally flickered out of its mouth for a split second, but what it had just provided you with was a whole show. A show you hadn't paid for, nor one you necessarily wanted to see.
You heard the animatronic chuckle at your obvious queasiness, enjoying its front-row seat to all of your impulsive actions. Its small chuckle quickly turned into a laugh of utter mock, only making you feel ten times (10x) more embarrassed than you should be.
You could feel your face start to burn, and not because you had necessarily liked watching its prehensile tongue. It was quite the opposite; you were flustered and extremely confused as to why it had decided to ingest the pill itself, that was if it could swallow anything at all.
But now that you were getting over the initial shock, you were thinking about giving a snappy retort about the animatronic's behavior. But you decided it was best to stay quiet, you didn't need to upset the animatronic yet again.
You had already gotten yourself into enough trouble with the animatronic, cursing in front of it twice and arguing with it. No, you had never been the nicest person on the block, but you didn't like making others feel like absolute shit on purpose… Most of the time.
And as much as this animatronic deserved to have your bad attitude, you knew you wouldn't get away with it every single time. Eventually the animatronic would get fed up with your horrific attitude, and who knew what it would do to put you in your place then?
But as you thought, eyes off the animatronic, you failed to notice its creeping claw approaching your face. You felt the cold metal brush your jawline in an attempt to regain your attention. Instantly you turned to face the animatronic, raising an eyebrow to prod it into speaking.
The animatronic was quick, it already had its hands clasped and placed back neatly in its lap. Yet it still didn't speak. "What?" You asked hesitantly as you felt its prolonged stare begin to burn into you. The animatronic shook its head in mock disappointment at your lack of attention.
"I ssssssssssssssss-" It started before cutting itself off as its voicebox glitched. It stared lifelessly at the floor, twiddling with its fingers before it tried again. "I said-said that-that we'll have-need to tie-restrain you again-again some-sometime soon-soon." Repeated the animatronic, its smile seeming to falter and waver as it awaited your reaction. Did it pity you? Maybe. Maybe not.
"Oh." You answered half-heartedly, you ground your teeth together as you thought. It wasn't that being restrained was the worst thing in the world, you could easily think of more horrific horrors.
You were more worried about what the animatronic would do to you when you were actually restrained. Obviously, you didn't quite trust it, and nor did you have any reason to. It had already force-fed you when you had been restrained before. And that had been one of the very first things it had done with you.
Imagine what it would do now, worst part is, it probably didn't care all too much for consent either. If you were powerless, it was probably going to use that to its advantage. Use it to satisfy its own needs and push your own aside. It already thought of you as a toy, clearly it didn't care about you all too much.
"Wh-What? Not excited? Thrilled even? Perhaps you are-are disappointed-resentful then?" It guessed, a chuckle escaping it in the form of a taunt.
It was right, you were resentful. Resentful for how it might act, resentful that it felt the need to hinder you at every turn. Resentful that the animatronic had managed to kidnap you in the first place. How it had managed that was a whole other topic. A topic too broad with too few answers.
You resented the animatronic in every way possible, but it didn't mean you had to resent everything else. Maybe you could find an alternative to not make your life a living hell. Maybe you could negotiate? Do a little convincing per se? The only problem was that if you just asked outright, the animatronic would see the game you were trying to play.
"Do I have to?" No, you weren't going to be straightforward. If you wanted the animatronic to consider it, you'd have to get it to bring the initial question up, all you had to do was push it in that direction.
Right?
Wrong.
Of course the animatronic knew where you were going, it worked with kids, did it not? It was called 'The Daycare Attendant' after all, it was probably used to dealing with manipulative kids.
"Are-Are you proposing-asking for something-thing?" Its already large grin threatened to grow bigger as it watched you hold back on a snappy comment. It knew exactly what you wanted, but it was going to make you say it with your words.
"Yes." You finally answered sulkily, you looked away, your face turning into a frown of annoyance as you glared at the small strip of lights.
"I-I've already-ready provided options-decisions." Stated the animatronic who crossed its arms, tilting its head in your direction. Its tongue flicked out of its mouth like that of a snake's. You didn't have perfect memory, nobody did, but you could've sworn it hadn't been that swollen the last time you saw it.
It was… It was huge. Though you were a problem solver, you couldn't quite figure out why its tongue had swollen to immense sizes. Was it a chemical reaction? Something more? You were unsure.
But what had it said about options? You could focus on its tongue later; you were right in the middle of a conversation with the damn thing.
But when had it provided you with another option? It was then that it hit you, the tongue flicker was intentional, unlike the other times where it seemed to be a twitch-reflex of some sort. It was hinting that you could either be tied up or take the blue tablet. Growing weary you weighed the two different options presented to you. If it was offering you the previous option, it meant that it had more, right?
Your face scrunched up in thought, you weren't going to just accept a random pill. Who knew what it could do? It could be a tablet of poison; it could also make you terribly sick.
"What does it do?" You asked hesitantly as you focused on the animatronic that towered over you, a faint shadow being cast over you by the LED strips behind it.
"Just-Just a mixture of harmless anesthetics-thetics." Replied the animatronic whose tongue managed to flop out despite its sharp-pointed teeth being in the way. It used a clawed finger to swiftly push the appendage back into its maw.
You couldn't help but feel like the stutter made the sentence more threatening than it originally should've been, combine it with the action of its tongue randomly falling from its jaws and you had a bit of a petrifying scene.
But now you had a decision between being forced to sleep or being tied up for who knows how long. Honestly, you were leaning toward the first option. If the animatronic did do anything you wouldn't feel it, nor would you remember it. You felt like it was better not to know rather than be traumatized for the rest of your life.
"I'll take your drugs." You mumbled jokingly, though you said it in a monotone voice. The animatronic seemed to think this was funny, letting out a little chuckle at the comment. But you weren't going to get comfortable, you had to be on the lookout for the small secrets that lurked around every corner.
Without another word the animatronic opened its mouth sticking its tongue out, the pill lay in the center of its swaying tongue. Your stomach instantly seized up at the thought of ingesting something that had already been in the animatronic's mouth. You already knew the game the animatronic wanted to play with just the singular action.
Suddenly the previous chortle from the animatronic didn't seem so genuine. "You're not going to make me eat that." You stated bitterly, scrunching up your face as you suddenly felt like a small animal under the animatronic's predatory stature. To it, you were just a small, clueless rabbit in its domain, completely oblivious to the danger that surrounded you.
"My my… You can't-can't be changing your-your mind-thoughts already?" The animatronic taunted mercilessly. Despite its tongue still hanging from its mouth, it spoke all too fluently. Well, as fluently as you were used to. You watched as it crept closer and closer. It took another pace closer, claws tapping playfully against the hardwood floor.
A cold sweat broke out from you as you realized the animatronic wouldn't let you back out. Uncrossing your legs, you pushed yourself back with each movement that it took toward you, keeping a somewhat even distance between the two of you. You watched as it wordlessly spun its faceplate in a full 360 degrees, a sadistic grin plastered to its face, hat still managing to stay atop its head.
But right as you were about to push yourself away from the animatronic once more, it tackled you to the floor. Its claws dug into your shoulders, your 'borrowed' uniform starting to tear underneath the lethal edges of the animatronic's fingertips. The air knocked right from you as your back hit the hardwood floor.
"Why don't you-you be a good-perfect imperfection and do-do as you're-you're told-told." Snarled the animatronic who withdrew its tongue behind its sharp teeth, sparing you from having saliva drip ever so slowly onto your face.
You clenched your teeth to prevent the animatronic from opening your mouth, hoping that your refusal would make it tie you up instead. But the animatronic had planned this. It knew just what to do to counteract you.
It withdrew its right hand from the flesh of your shoulders and pinched your nose to prevent you from breathing. You already knew where this was going. You knew the second you opened your mouth to breathe the animatronic would force you to take the anesthetic.
It didn't help that the animatronic had just knocked the wind right from you when it had slammed you into the floor. You were already struggling for air within just a few seconds. Your only impulse now was to fight back.
Fight or flight.
Trying to get away clearly hadn't worked, and now you were being forced to turn to the other option,
Fight.
But you couldn't get the animatronic off. It had you pinned, and your muscles were still sore from the strained position they had been in when you first awoke. Your struggle only made it harder to breathe, and it only led closer to the inevitable disaster of the animatronic forcing you to take a pill covered in its saliva.
But when living won over death, you opened your mouth to gulp in some fresh air. It was then that the animatronic made its move. It forced you into a kiss, tongue quickly slipping past your parted lips.
Through the quick action, you hadn't managed to get a breath in, your chest starting to convulse as it tried to force your body to breathe. You instantly began trying to push the animatronic off again as it blocked off your accessibility to breathe. Your will to live was too strong to just give up without a fight.
The animatronic luckily took the hint and removed its hand from your nose, it wasn't much of an improvement, but you were able to take in just a little bit of air. Luckily it was enough to avoid the consequences of passing out from lack of oxygen.
But it truly didn't matter, you were going to pass out either way. The only difference was that you had more time to struggle against the animatronic in the false hope that you just might be able to make it out alive. But no one was going to come for you, no one knew where you were.
You could feel the animatronic's cold tongue settle inside your mouth, the pill pushed on your tongue by the animatronic's larger, heavier, and more unhinged organ. You could already taste its cold saliva against your taste buds, the faint tang of lemon mint could be tasted on your tongue. Not that you could taste the mint, but you definitely recognized the refreshing aspect to the 'flavor.'
Eventually, you gave up on trying to fight back, you weren't going to make it away from the larger mass. The animatronic's claws dug deep into your shoulder, your sore muscles tensing up as its claws sunk deeper into you, blood being drawn.
You wouldn't have been all too worried if its claws weren't close to your already festering wound. Swollen and unnaturally hot as the cells in your body worked overtime in an attempt to patch the skin of the abrasion.
You wanted this to be over, you wanted the animatronic's tongue out of your mouth. It was uncomfortably cold and seemed to pulse inside your mouth. A… unique feature.
It was freaky and nausea-inducing, you were regretting having picked its first option. Even better if you had just accepted the pill when it was first offered to you. But now those options were long gone.
There were so many things you could've done to prevent this scene, but you just had to be difficult. You just had to refuse and prod around with different options. It just seemed that life had to throw you down the worst path, and each path led to more trouble, more dilemma.
You could feel tears start to prick the corners of your eyes as you felt your lips start to swell as its teeth pushed against the sensitive skin. You were forced to look into the black eyes of the thing you hated most, the animatronic.
You hated the animatronic, loathed it, but it seemed to love you more than you could ever know. A feeling you wished never to return.
It was now that the off-brand gray/grey pupils became noticeable to you. Tiny, small dots in the center of its eyes that stared right into your pupils. It stared at you, and you stared back.
You wanted to look away, but you couldn't, each passing second made it harder to look away. It was like admitting defeat, but even then, where could you look?
But it didn't matter, you weren't going to be looking for much longer. The way your eyes drooped told you that the animatronic's special pill was already starting to kick in.
The shadows swarming your vision would've spiked your terror, but you were far too gone to take notice.
And like that, all too suddenly, you were out.
Your body becoming limp in its hands.
Chapter End Notes
Sorry, my hand slipped for this chapter. Whoops.
Discord Link:
https/discord.gg/zA437hyq6N
Temperamental
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
— — — — —
"C'mon! You're moving slower than a slug! We're gonna miss the show!" It was your cousin. Well, one of them. Today you had gone with them to Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex. Their family had won free tickets to the large place. The reason you were here though, was because they had gotten a couple of extras, and your cousin thought it'd be a delightful surprise to drag you along too.
You weren't complaining though. This was quite the opportunity, after all. "I'm positive you won't miss out on anything." You replied to the smaller child, attempting to drag you forward while holding onto your middle and ring fingers. You could hear the child struggle to drag your weight, a chuckle escaping you at the failed attempt.
"And I'm sure I absolutely will." Urged your cousin, who gave up in attempting to heave your body forward, out of breath by the time the two of you reached the escalator. "C'mon! It's better to be safe than sorry! It's what you always say." Pestered the kid with just the hint of a mocking tone in their voice. Another chuckle escaped you as your cousin continued their playful bickering.
— — — — —
You hadn't heard them calling your name, not at first anyway. You had been too busy watching the afternoon show brought to you by the 'Big Four.' The Big Four were the current animatronics that represented the Pizzaplex as animalistic mascots.
Freddy Fazbear in the 'center' as the lead singer, Montgomery next to Freddy on the left (your left) playing the bass guitar, Roxanne next to Montgomery playing the keytar, and Chica on the opposite end playing an electric guitar of some sort.
The cheers of the crowd below you would have been bothersome had the balcony posts not had speakers to amplify the music of the ongoing show. When you finally heard your name, you looked around, spotting your cousin walking over with a drink in hand. They gave you a toothy grin and an obnoxious wave.
You didn't mind though. You were enjoying yourself.
For now, anyway.
— — — — —
You woke up with quite the kicker. Your calf seized up as your body instantly jolted awake. Adrenaline was pumping through your body, sweat being absorbed greedily by your borrowed clothing.
Your hand went up to clutch the collar of your shirt, your fingers bundling up the loose fabric into a tight ball, your knuckles growing paler. Your eyes darted around the room, fearful that the animatronic would be staring directly at you.
It was only worse that you hadn't registered exactly where you were within the room. You were tucked into the same bed that pinned you against the wall when you first woke up here. The blue and red comforter making you uncomfortable due to its 'heaviness' of it.
You struggled to throw the large blanket off of you, kicking it in an attempt to get it off your legs. You drew yourself closer to the wall as you sat up whilst clutching your cramping calf. You greedily took in large amounts of air as you attempted to calm yourself down, your heart racing like a galloping Tasmanian Devil.
The dry and unstirred air in the balcony did nothing to help you calm down, instead making it worse than it needed to be. You felt your throat begin to tighten at the uncomfortable sensation, what you would give to be able to breathe fresh air once more. You didn't realize the luxury of having quality air, but now, each breath in was bleak and heavy. Painful really.
Not to mention how easily your lips had gotten chapped, and yet you could do nothing for them. You licked them in the false hope that it might help them in hydration, but it only worsened the burning sensation.
You had to force yourself to resist the humane urge to chew on your lips, fearful you might rip a layer of tissue right off of them. That would only make the dehydration worse, and the pain even more unbearable to you.
You grumbled to yourself out of irritation, thankful that nothing was around to hear you complain and bitch. Maybe you should ask the animatronic for some chapstick, it had no reason to say 'No.' Well, unless it couldn't get it from within the plex. But you wouldn't bring that up.
The animatronic, while fully capable of refusing your request, probably wouldn't. You could easily bring up the point that it would be painful if left untended, and you were sure you could be overdramatic if needed.
You rubbed the saliva that lingered around your lips, feeling oddly uncomfortable knowing it was there. Your eyes went over to the fairy lights. It was your only source of light when it was dark, but as of right now, it was useless. The lights inside the daycare were bright enough to light up the room in an almost eye-blinding light.
It was simple things like this that made the animatronic unbearable to be around. You couldn't take care of yourself. How were you supposed to when your whole 'schedule' was being overseen by an ever-watchful animatronic? It didn't leave you alone when you showered, insisted on feeding you itself, and was, overall, annoying. In reality, it only fueled your want to get away.
You were sure you could escape. The only problem was the balcony. You needed the animatronic's help to get you back to ground level. Without it, you risked breaking your spine. If you were immobile, you had far less of a chance of escaping. As you had been thinking since the beginning of your stay, the first attempt was going to be the easiest.
But it came to your attention that the loud tune of the daycare had been quieted. Now it was far-off and just barely audible. You could hear children snickering at one another in hushed voices, and that was when it came to you. It was opening hours.
You also realized that the animatronic had stuck to its word. You could try screaming, but it would be fruitless. Even the animatronic knew that if you screamed, you would only hinder your progress. There wasn't anyone who could help you, nonetheless, reach you from where you dwelled so high up on the balcony.
At the very least, the children would think it was some sort of performance. While they were having the time of their life, you were having the worst of it. You had definitely seen better days. Even being an early teen again was better than this.
Escaping seemed so easy, and at the same time, it seemed nearly impossible. There were all these factors you had to take into account, you had to make up for things that might drag you down, and you had to be sure that you knew the Pizzaplex like the back of your hand.
Of course, you had been to The Plex before, but you hadn't ever tried to learn the place. All you could remember was that the daycare was on the first floor, right across from the main doors. You had seen it before but never had a reason to explore the place. Until now, that is.
You didn't even know if a possible break for the exit was possible. You might have to hide until opening hours before you could be home free. You also would have to attempt a getaway on a day the Plex would be open if that were the case.
But you also didn't want to attempt to escape too early in the night. You needed to limit the time it had to find you in as many ways as possible. You were sure it would make quick work of all the floors, desperate to get you back before opening hours.
You were getting antsy to try to escape; the urge growing every time you thought about it; the terror influencing your decisions. You wanted to stay level-minded, to escape as soon and as stealthily as possible. And yet, it seemed to be your own body that refused to do so.
The animatronic was prepared to stop you. It kept you high up to avoid you from trying to run away. It knew you couldn't fall off the ledge without severe trauma. It knew that it had the upper hand. It knew you wouldn't be able to get away from it, not without a fight anyway.
If you thought about it, you could jump. You would be free of the animatronic if you landed right. It was all so possible, and yet, you had a feeling that there would be something stopping you.
Whether it be yourself, the kids, or even the animatronic. It was a plausible solution, but would only be used as a last resort. You still had hope, you could still escape with your life. All you needed was a little bit of luck.
That was if it existed.
There wasn't a chance in hell that you would get away just by running. You needed a plan. And you did have a plan. The idea was rough, but you could easily smoothen the edges.
The vent. The vent was big enough for you. You had only the large facility to thank for that, otherwise, they'd be much too small. The Fazbear franchise decided to use larger vents to increase the airflow of different places around the plex. Now you were planning to use it to traverse around the plex. There weren't any guarantees that it would work, but, if needed, you could always bail. Right?
For example, if you couldn't bash open the grate of the vent, you could easily make up an excuse for your absence. Though you were sure that wouldn't be the case, the metal of the grate looked thin and not all too sturdy. It was meant to keep people out through visuals. Though a solid kick could easily tear the grate of its bolts, well, that's what you hoped, anyway.
It wasn't like the animatronic would miss you. It had said it itself; you were an imperfection. There had been so many other fish in the sea to choose from, and yet, here you were, caught in the net.
You weren't directly ugly, but small details of you made you look unappealing to the eye. At the thought you lifted your right hand, you could spot so many things wrong with it, and yet, the animatronic chose you.
It chose you to kidnap, and now it had you in its possession. You quietly examined your hand. Why had it chosen you? Your blue veins were visible at the wrist, your shortened nails from your constant nail-biting, and your already dry skin. All of it. And yet, somehow, you had managed to be a favorite amongst the animatronic.
But you weren't sure if this was any better. It had kidnapped you out of obsession. It had gone through deadly risks just to have you here.
It was like being in high school again. Everyone was desperate to find their 'High School Sweetheart.' Supposedly, it had been a form of popularity. But now that you were older, you realized that it had been pointless. Not many people lasted very long anyway, and not many people wanted a significant other.
That was you now. After you had gotten over your boy-crazy phase, you decided to lie low. It just seemed that there wasn't anyone out there who could benefit you. Instead, you had been the benefiter in the relationship. Call it 'The Short End of the Stick.'
But now, there was only one slight difference.
This. Right here. Right now.
Was so much worse.
You didn't understand how you could possibly appeal to the animatronic's taste. You didn't understand why it thought kidnapping someone was the correct choice of action. You didn't understand the animatronic at all. But that was something you shared with the animatronic, it didn't know you either.
It didn't know how you might react, how you might feel, or what you might do. It was just as clueless about you as you were about it. But you couldn't help but feel like the animatronic had an advantage over you. It was bigger, stronger, and faster. If it couldn't calculate your exact moves, it would calculate them all.
But there was another thing: you were stuck helping yourself, you had to do everything by yourself to escape. It was a hint that you were lonely in this adventure, but were you truly alone? Had your family noticed your absence? If they had, they probably wouldn't be able to find you, anyway.
They could try to track your phone, but considering you didn't know where your device was, you were sure it was either long gone or dead by now. Thinking about it, all of your stuff was probably lost now, your photos, videos, contacts, conversations, all of it.
You had lost so much, and all because of one simple thing the animatronic had done. You had lost so much while the animatronic completed its entire world. It sickened you how truly painful it was to know that your life would never be the same. Even if you did make it out, you'd have to walk home. Your home might not even be your home. If you didn't pay your bills, you'd surely get evicted.
You didn't know how much time you had left before someone went knocking at your front door to confront you about the money you owed. It scared you to go back. And yet, the animatronic terrified you more.
Just as you took your right hand in your left, the lights went out. You would've been plunged into darkness had the faintly tinted blue fairy lights not lit up the area.
Knowing it was so close, knowing it could be heading toward you at any moment. You could hear its movements drawing closer to you, then moving away. At times like this, you were glad you could hear those strange sounds, but any other time and you would've been halfway to having a panic attack.
But there was something wrong. Something just wasn't right.
"Hush Child. Would you like a-a Moon-Moondrop?" It wasn't the pitch of its voice, it was its speech. It seemed to be biting back its stutter. The only way you could tell it was even doing so is if you knew that it had a stutter. That would be you.
You knew its repetitive words and synonyms all too well. Well, as well as you could know them by hearing it over and over for an entire night. But it was enough to know that it was holding back.
It oddly reminded you of how its other, Sun, started acting when you began to get snappy at it. It would start its words before it seemed to glitch for the tiniest of milliseconds, the glitch seemed to be a signal for it to repeat the entire word without fail.
It was odd to hear the animatronic talk as it did. Each time it finished a word, you expected it to either repeat the word or add an unnecessary synonym to it. You were waiting for that break in its voice where it suddenly dropped dangerously low and seemed almost threatening. Threatening if you weren't used to its irregular pattern, that was.
But eventually, the animatronic's talking came to a halt, it was almost quiet. Almost. You could hear the hushed snores of the fleshbags down below, but you could also hear the mechanical ticking of the animatronic. It was coming directly toward you, and you knew this time it was coming up to you.
Your anxiety began to bloom, your heart picking up pace. Your last interaction with it hadn't gone too well, and you could only hope it wouldn't do anything else to you. You had just met it and it had already pressed all the wrong buttons in you.
You heard a small click, and that sound alerted you that the animatronic had attached its cable to its back. Soon it would be showing its face, and you weren't quite ready for that. But, of course, you didn't have a choice. You never had one in the first place, did you?
You were already glaring at the animatronic when it landed lightly on the balcony, a soft thump of its foot could be heard as it balanced its weight out. Its body seemed to slink almost instantly with the action, hunching over itself as it let its hands sag between its legs, the tip of its claws mere centimeters away from dragging against the wood.
At the appearance of the animatronic, you felt your tongue begin to dry up. A feeling of distaste tightened your throat making it hard to breathe properly, nonetheless swallow your saliva.
The animatronic took a step forward, clearing the balcony with a single stride. You knew you were giving it a judgmental gaze. Even if you hadn't thought about it, you knew your body had already acted for you. To you, you were just as unpredictable as the animatronic. It was something the two of you shared. You both were dubious, incalculable, and erratic.
Now was no time to let down your guard, especially when it took another step. It hesitantly lifted two of its clawed fingers and gently let them rest atop the same comforter you had kicked off.
Your eyes instinctively left the figure of the animatronic, instead focusing on its hand that lay atop the bed you lay in. You were nervous, and you were scared. But above all, petrified. You could barely move. Even moving away from it was a constant debate running in your head.
It took another step forward, its hand dragging across the heavy blanket until it got to the fold of the fabric. The part where the comforter had folded over itself when you had kicked it off your body.
You felt its stare bore into you, but you refused to look up to meet its eyes. It's not like you would've seen anything, anyway.
"D-Do I-we scare you-you?" That familiarity. It was talking 'normally' again. Perhaps it wasn't a glitch, perhaps it had been trying to stifle the stutters. It would make sense. It made it appear more child friendly if it spoke 'normally.'
It lifted its right hand to its neck to adjust the tulle wrapped around its neck. A piece of red fabric with yellow stars, the tails of the netting had been tied together to create a ribbon. You gave it a small scowl in response, though you hesitated to give it a proper answer.
Yes, you were scared of it. Yes, it had traumatized you. It was unpredictable, and it scared you. You couldn't guess its reactions to anything, you couldn't guess what it would do with you. Finally, you looked up into its eyes. Its faceplate rotated in a full circle, its hat managing to stick to its head throughout the entire action.
"What do you think?" You huffed, your eyes instead training on the bed. The comforter had red and blue stripes with alternating patterns. Your arm tightened around your leg, your head resting on your kneecap as you attempted to make yourself as small as possible underneath the scathing eyes of the animatronic.
"You are, you are." It snickered at you. "Stupid… Yes-Yes, stupid you are." Snarling it turned away from you, clearly, it had already been in a bad mood. Or perhaps you weren't getting any better at predicting the animatronic's actions.
"Y-You messed it up-up, messed-ruined it all-all." Messed what up? What had you done to it? If you asked, would the animatronic tell you? Maybe not now. Now was not a good time. It looked ready to lash out at any moment, instead diverting its anger into clawing at itself.
It continued this rambling banter before it looked back at you, its eyes in your direction giving away that it wanted to talk to you. You only looked back at it, confused at what it wanted from you.
"We'll make-force you to-to like-love us, you'll see-see."
Chapter End Notes
Discord Link:
https/discord.gg/zA437hyq6N
You, Yourself, And Me
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Confused. That was what you were, confused about. The animatronic was acting erratically, unpredictable to you, and perhaps even to itself. Was it acting on impulse? Maybe. Maybe not. "What?" It seemed to be glaring at you, but you couldn't be sure. Glaring? That didn't seem right, perhaps staring at you? Again. Maybe. Maybe not.
It dropped its head, breaking 'eye contact' with you as it mumbled half-hearted apologies. "Sorry-Sorry." No, you didn't forgive it. Not for anything, not for everything. You hated the animatronic, and, therefore, would never forgive it.
How could the animatronic feel apologetic if it had been the one to kidnap you? A simple answer. It didn't. It didn't feel sorry at all. All it wanted was your trust, it wanted to manipulate you into liking it as much as it loved you. And yet, you refused, absolutely refused, to be a victim of its mind games. You didn't care what happened to it, either way, you'd be getting out. That was all you cared about, freedom. You refused to believe that you'd never escape. You had something most other people didn't. Hope.
You refused to let it slip through your fingers, you needed it. You knew that it was the only reason you hadn't given up yet. It was through desperate fear that you managed to keep your spirit. You were scared. Yes. You. You were scared. Terrified even. The thought of losing your entire life was terrifying, and it was all because the animatronic had chosen to kidnap you. Why it had chosen you, you didn't know.
"What exactly are you apologizing for?" You questioned, taking a cross-legged position, crossing both your arms and legs. You glared at the animatronic, you didn't care for it. And it shouldn't care for you either.
It shied away from your hateful stare, obviously conflicted on how it should approach your predictable question. You knew that it was apologizing so that it had your forgiveness, and yet, you refused to hand it over.
"We-We are… Unsure." Hissed the animatronic, tongue slithering between its teeth, but only for a sliver of a second was it visible. At least it had the decency to be somewhat honest. For now, anyway. It walked toward the bed, climbing atop it and also crossing its legs just as you had done. It clasped its hands together, letting them settle in the space of its crossed legs, thumbs fidgeting in a nervous habitat.
It took a lot in you to suppress a jabbing comment, but you held back. It was better left unspoken. It had kidnapped you; it deserved your every ounce of hate. It expected you to love them, but you would never. You refused to fall into the clutches of Stockholm Syndrome, you weren't going to fall into the feelings of love. It may be welcoming you with open arms, but you didn't want to accept it. Not any of it.
What they were doing was attempting to weasel into your brain, to wiggle and squirm like a parasite. But you weren't going to let them infect you, you'd do anything to avoid the fate that beckoned to you.
Well, almost anything. Almost.
The tears forming in your eyes had become unnoticed to you, that was until you felt them begin to fall. You looked away from the animatronic, you hated it. You loathed it for everything. Absolutely everything.
Your friends, family, co-workers, everyone you knew. They had all been taken away from you. And, let's be honest. None of them were going to come to your aid. They didn't know where you were, and they probably couldn't track you. Plus, which one of your idiotic friends would think that you had been kidnapped? If anything, they'd think you'd have ghosted them.
All you had was you, yourself, and me. You couldn't rely on anyone else to help you, you couldn't trust anyone with your thoughts or opinions. You needed to avoid digging yourself a grave, you had to escape when you could. Only when you had the opportunity. Your timing was going to be everything. You could try to gain its trust, but that was the long game. And ideally, it wasn't going to be the safe play for you.
"I don't understand why you've done this." You were speaking truthfully. You didn't understand. Why did it think you'd ever love them back? It was an animatronic, a series of specialized code. None of their feelings were real. And let's say, hypothetically, that if it truly did love you, why did it think that kidnapping you would make you return its feelings?
It didn't make sense, in fact, it was common knowledge. Sure, there were reports of people being kidnapped by their extremist lovers, but this was different. You'd never met the animatronic, never had you seen it, and yet it had already proclaimed its love to you. Not even a full 24 hours of you talking with it, nonetheless, meeting it.
You didn't care how many times it took you to insult them, how many times it took you to piss them off, you just wanted to be free. The animatronic snickered at you, clicking its teeth to create a 'chittering' sound. "Don't-Don't pester-annoy me with-with questions you don't-not want answers-answers to." Its tongue flicked between its sharp rows of teeth once more, like a snake of some sort waiting for you to get closer to its deadly trap.
You weren't going to fall to its words, not this time anyway. You wanted to know, but it wasn't going to tell you anyway. You'd only be endangering yourself the more you asked about it. Self-preservation they called it.
"Thing. Perhaps-Perhaps you are hun-hungry? Thirsty maybe?" A topic. A topic that wouldn't dig you somewhere. Not that you wanted to engage with the animatronic. But, if you had to, you could only hope that it wouldn't be a miserable experience.
You were hungry, thirsty too, all this blabbering making the dehydration worse. You gave a slight nod, the last time, or rather, the first time, stuck in your memory. You didn't want a repeat, not now, not ever.
"Disci-Discipline." Snarked the animatronic. Discipline? Oh. It wanted you to use your words, didn't it? Of course, it did, this was going to be the way it got its way. That seemed to be the common theme. You had already begun to take notice that it took a great liking in prodding you to use your voice.
But, out of spite, you decided you'd make this a painful process. Annoying it to death wasn't off the table. Not yet anyway. Maybe. Just maybe, you might be able to annoy the animatronic enough that it might just let you go. An easy way out.
"Never mind, I'm good." The tension was starting to build, you knew you were going against what the animatronic wanted. And it too knew you were doing this just to be a nuisance to it. An uneasy feeling began to rest in your gut. It wasn't regretful. No. You held no regrets. But was it fear? Yes. You were scared of how it might react, scared that you were making things worse than they needed to be.
"This-Your attitude-refusal isn't going-going to serve-do you well-well." Warned the animatronic, lifting its index finger to wave it side-to-side. Another one of its taunts, really, it was starting to get old. And that was because you knew you might be victim to one of its taunts in the future, especially with how frequent they were.
It was like walking in a minefield, you weren't able to get a clear visual, but if you looked close enough or paid enough attention, you might've been able to spot such a thing. And that was only if you were careful.
You had nothing to say to the animatronic, it deserved your silence. It deserved your unwillingness and hate. It deserved it all. You couldn't believe any of this was happening to you. Really, you. Of all people, it had to be you. You, the person who always stuck to the normality of the crowd, the person no one had ever really cared about. Anyone else. So many options. And yet… Here you were.
"Why-Why do you refuse-use to listen-understand us-us?"
Why?
Why did you like making it irritated?
Because you hated it. You wanted it to understand just how you felt. You wanted it to know that you hated it and that you weren't afraid to show it. You wanted it to know that you couldn't stand being around it. You wanted it to mess up, you wanted it to fail. You needed it to know that you couldn't possibly hate it more.
All you wanted it to do was understand you. Your feelings. Your reasoning. Your obscene hate for it. Everything. You wanted it to understand everything about how you felt.
You didn't want to answer, that building tension, you knew it felt it too. You ground your teeth together, defiantly waiting for it to make the first move. You weren't going to answer it. You left your chance to respond, you weren't going to do it.
"We-We just want-wish you would talk-communicate with us-us." Whispered the animatronic almost desperately. You looked back over it, its claws were dug halfway into its bed, tearing up the comforter. It was pulling off that hurt look so well, and you couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit sorry for it. But you weren't going to let it know how you felt. You knew it was trying to get you to feel sympathetic for it. And, deep down, you knew it was trying to rip you from your hardened inner shell.
Its claws had dug deep into the fabric of the blanket, multiple puncture holes could be seen around the animatronic's fingers, evidence that it had been actively tearing up the fabric.
But it didn't matter anyway, you weren't hungry anymore. The memory of the last time, better known as the first, was still engraved into your mind. The feeling of discomfort from the incident stuck with you, making your body shiver instinctively.
But still, you said nothing.
The animatronic ripped its claws from the blanket, the previous torn holes being connected to the ones it had just made with the careless motion of the animatronic. It looked down at the shredded comforter. But barely seemed to care. "Come-Come here." It pointed to the shredded spot beside itself, its temper running on low.
"Why?" You cracked. You had said something.
"Come. Here." Repeated the animatronic, a threat lingering in its snarky words. Maybe you had ignored it one too many times, that did seem to be the ideal answer. You gave in, you had annoyed it for the time being, its limit had been reached, and it had been granting you free roam. Did it really trust you that much? A stupid move.
You slowly approached the upset, temperamental animatronic. Despite its lack of visible pupils, you knew it was watching you and your every move. Creepy. But, what's to say? It had kidnapped you, and it was making sure that it kept what it wanted. That being you.
Its finger twitched, for a split second, but you had seen it. Oh? Was it getting antsy? Yes. Yes, it was. The moment it was able to, it scooped you up into its arms and cradled you in between its legs.
Uncomfortable. Yes, you were uncomfortable. Both physically, and mentally, you were uncomfortable. You thought about complaining to the animatronic about this, but it had read your thoughts before you could put them into words. "Shhh." It pulled your body closer to its own as if the two of you just couldn't be close enough. Funny. That was exactly what you didn't want, in fact, you wanted just the opposite.
One of your legs had been forced under its arm, causing it to stick out from the area of the automaton. Your other leg had your knee up to your chest area, your foot finding a place on the animatronic's leg. The entire left side of your body was forced up against the animatronic's abdomen as it only hugged you closer, the only exception being your outstretched leg.
Goosebumps began to form on your skin, the long-sleeved uniform had done well to warm you up against the slight chilliness in the balcony, but it would never be able to do anything against the touch of the animatronic. You were letting it manhandle you, you were letting it snuggle up to you, and yet, you still claimed that you hated it.
Were you buying yourself time? Or had you given up trying to push it away? The first option seemed the most likely, you would admit, you did need time, and desperately too might you add.
One of the three main ingredients to escaping was time. But with time, also required patience. And to utilize both of these skills properly, you needed brainpower.
You were right up against the animatronic, the thought that it could get any closer to you would mean that it'd be inside you. For every thought you had, you felt like it was reading it. It might've been the way it acted. Maybe even your guilty subconscious. But never. Never ever, would you ever give in to its wants and demands. You could escape. You would escape. You could be free. You will be free. But it was up to you to make such a thing happen. All you had to do was take your time and tread carefully.
You shied away from the claws that were beginning to seep into your skin, you didn't need any more body trauma, not that it was a thing of the often, but that you didn't feel like worrying about cuts and scratches, abrasions, and blood.
It was almost silent. There were still those ticking sounds the animatronic made, but you barely noticed them now. You had gotten too familiar with the odd machinery within the animatronic. And all too quickly to. It was like playing your favorite song on repeat, at some point the music gets old, and at another, it becomes a distant sound that you barely pay any attention to.
But there was another thing, filling the silence. Its humming. It was humming an old nursery rhyme from the time of the plague. Ring Around The Rosie. (Ring A Ring O' Roses.)
It wasn't the most comforting of songs when you knew the meaning behind it, but it was made infinitely worse when the animatronic began humming it. Its 'naturally' deep voicebox provided an odd feeling of dread for each verse of the song.
"The wedding bells are ringing. The boys and girls are singing." Static. "A tissue. A tissue. We all fall down." You knew there were multiple versions, but you were unfamiliar with them. The only one you had ever heard was the game, not that it was altered too much, but altered enough that it wasn't quite right to you.
The animatronic passed its thumb over the holes of your uniform, right where its claws had seeped into your skin when it had held you down for… That. The bruises responded terribly to the simple motion.
You shifted away from the animatronic, the cold touch of the animatronic's fingers feeling unpleasant against your skin. "S- Sorry Sorry." Muttered the animatronic, breaking off the lyrics of the song. You looked up at it, if it was sorry then why did it feel the need to prod and touch? "For these- these." It tapped the center of the semi-oval shape of the punctures. Your already swollen skin throbbed at the touch. This room was the ideal place to get infected wounds if left unattended. And, surprise surprise, you could do nothing to help yourself.
"Hmmmmm. We'll get these-those fixed-patched up sooner-later." The comment would've been slightly appreciated had it not applied pressure to the large area of wounds on your shoulder. Though it didn't use its claws, it still hurt. A lot. You gasped as seething pain numbed your shoulder, painful. That was what it was. And that was exactly what you were suffering through. Absolute blistering pain.
You tore your arm from it, a hand going up in an 'attempt' to defend yourself. But it did nothing, the animatronic taking this opportunity to, instead, intertwine its fingers with yours. Its hands were massive compared to your own, without even trying the tips of its fingers rested just past the wrist of your arm.
But the moment didn't last long, your hateful stare glaring at both of your intertwined fingers. Its fingers slipped from yours, tugging on the end of your sleeve. "Would you-Could you roll-roll your sleeves up-up." You didn't want to you, you wanted to be left alone. But your fighting spirit was dissipating. Your time was running out.
You had a plan to escape anyway. You just had to wait until the other, Sun, came out. You needed to know if it was still upset with you, you also needed to know what it'd do with you when it was just the two of you. You had an idea, an escape attempt, but there was a time and place for everything. But you knew exactly what you wanted to do, but the real question remained. Could you execute it when the time came? Maybe. You'd have to wait and see, wouldn't you?
You wordlessly shifted your body so that your back was up against the animatronic's body. An… ideal position. But you didn't care. You could honestly care less. You couldn't tell if the animatronic noticed this too, or if it was waiting for you to do as it said.
You tugged on the end of one of your sleeves, straightening the fabric as you did so. You hated rolling up your sleeves. It was unnatural to roll up your sleeve one-handed. It was even worse to have the animatronic looming over you, waiting for you to finish up.
You knew it was waiting, getting antsy like before. Its hands were lingering around your shoulders, desperate to get its hands back on you as soon as it could. You could see its fingers twitching in anticipation.
It was impatient.
Of course, it was.
You finished rolling your sleeve up to your elbow, but the impatience radiating off the animatronic made you give up. With a quick thought, you touched your hand to its own. "Do it." You gave up. You didn't care anymore.
The animatronic grabbed onto your hand and lifted it above your head. It instantly began straightening your sleeves before rolling them up. It made quick work of the fabric. It knew exactly what it was doing too. Plus, it had two hands to utilize while you had only been able to use one. The second it was done; your hand fell back to your side.
The animatronic wrapped its arms around your body, your upper arms pinned to your side. Your forearms, however, were still mobile. You reached up, using your fingers to help cling onto the blue arms of the animatronic. The animatronic snuggled its body against yours, but you made no move to push it away.
This. This was why you hated the animatronic. It was touchy, its cold limbs seeming to be a taunt in itself each time it grazed you. You might've believed that it was touch deprived in some era, but now you weren't completely sure. It was obsessed with you no matter what. That's why escaping would be hard.
It'd have its full attention on you, it'd be listening and watching. Not just on you, but anything that might take you from them. It'd be more alert to these pre-descending dangers, not to mention that it probably had better hearing and eyesight than you. 'Eyesight' being that it could see in dark areas and spaces.
It was disgusting how you resorted to predicting the animatronic, it was pure evidence that you wouldn't ever be sure how it might react to things. You were absolutely sure it was doing the same to you. Analyzing you, watching you, taking in your behavior and toxic reactions.
"Got to-to go-leave." Said Moon suddenly, breaking the thickening silence that had been creeping up on you. The animatronic's arms fell from your body, instead, picking you up like it would a cat. It set you down beside itself, and for a split second, it reached toward your hand. But it stopped itself, pulling away.
Odd. Nervous? Scared? Time inefficient? Whatever the reason, it touched your curiosity.
You stared after it questioningly as it stood up from the bed, walking over to the messily arranged assortment of cabinets, tables, and drawers on the opposite side of the room. "Will you be back?" Surprising of you to ask. But you didn't really care. You would never care.
You knew the answer to your own question, it would always come back. Always. It had a precious thing to take care of, it couldn't just leave you. And if it did? You'd go the extra mile to get out. The balcony was still an option. It would always be an option. And from there? Getting out of the Pizzaplex.
You assumed the animatronic couldn't leave the Pizzaplex, it seemed logical. But it was just speculation. All it ever would be was speculation. But you knew that you wouldn't last in the Pizzaplex, you knew. You knew for a fact. "Oh, Oh?" The animatronic let out a chuckle, which quickly started to incline into maniassy. And suddenly? Suddenly, it stifled the sound. 'Choking' on nothing.
"You-You know-know the answer to that question-inquiry." In one of its hands, it held a white t-shirt. In its other? A spool of red ribbon. There were reasons you hadn't thrown yourself off the balcony yet, this was one of them.
The white shirt you recognized, though it wasn't the very shirt that the animatronic had gagged you with before. It did, however, seem to be an exact copy of it. But then the ribbon, that must've been the same type it had used to tie your limbs together when you first woke up. No wonder you hadn't been able to break free of them.
But that balcony… Your mind kept darting to it, if you made a run for it, might you escape. Maybe, but you might just get severely injured. If you were afflicted with injuries, it would really only ensure that you wouldn't be going anywhere. But you might die. Maybe. That was another problem, there were kids down there, you were sure of it. You couldn't possibly bear the feeling of traumatizing innocent children inside a daycare. It was cruel honestly.
You drew your gaze from the entryway, not now. The animatronic threw the reel of ribbon onto the bed, instead focusing its attention on the plain white shirt. It held the clothing out in front of it, and, with slow movement, began to tear it in two. The semes tore free of their places as the animatronic used its overpowering strength to rip the shirt apart.
The slow sound of the semes being ripped was the exact opposite of 'satisfying.' But finally, it had finished the task, throwing one-half of the two pieces over its shoulder. You watched as the blanketing fabric landed atop the same dresser it had been pulled from, the drawer still wide open.
It began folding the piece of fabric in its hands 'hotdog style,' and soon? And soon the animatronic had turned it into a thin strip. It walked over to the edge of the bed, setting the neatly folded article of clothing beside the spool of ribbon. You assumed it was saving that bit for last, given it hadn't gagged you up yet.
It began to unravel the ribbon, measuring it by using its own arm. Once it had successfully measured the thread, it brought the strip up to its mouth. You watched as it carefully placed the ribbon between its teeth, snapping its teeth together to cut the ribbon piece into three. The shortest being inside its mouth which it had to remove using both tongue and claw.
It repeated this same process, tossing the extra pieces of ribbon into the drawer. The spool went atop the other half of the shirt as a weight to make sure it actually stayed in place.
"Turn-Turn around-round." Instructed the automaton, using a slight finger motion of its index finger to emphasize its words. Wordlessly you did as told, turning your back toward the animatronic as you let it ragdoll your limbs any way it liked. It quickly tied your forearms together, that soreness returning almost instantly. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and you absolutely hated the way it made you feel.
The animatronic also ensured to tie your ankles together, preventing you from… Well, a lot of things. As it did this you stared at the two colors of the comforter. Yellow and blue. A combination of both of the animatronic's personalities. The animatronic put the gag in its proper place, your complaints were kept to a minimum as it did so.
You were now officially tied up. You had missed all your chances. But did you mind? No. You had an idea. When you'd be able to enact it was a different thing. All you knew was that you were going to take the chance the second you could do so safely. All you had to do was wait for that chance. Right?
"Sit tight-tight." Chuckled the animatronic, obviously amused by its sneering wordplay. You only rolled your eyes in response, though you weren't sure if it would even be able to see your reaction. You looked over your shoulder as best you could, noticing that the spool and half-shirt had already been put away. Had the animatronic been quick with it, or had you zoned out a few seconds too long?
"Be-Be back soon-soon." Whispered the animatronic, its black hook coming down from above, right into the animatronic's hand. It hooked the object to the ring loop on its back, giving you a final wave of 'goodbye.' However, despite this motion, you didn't let its upset look escape your gaze. It looked… How should you put it? Sad? Disappointed?
You turned over the huffy look on its face, but your thoughts were abruptly cut off when the lights began to spasm, your eyes blinded multiple times within just a few seconds. You looked back toward the wall your body was facing. Though looking wasn't quite the right word. You had closed your eyes to prevent eye pain the spasming lights were causing you.
You were well aware and alert of the children nearby. 'Mumbling' loud enough for even you to hear them from where you were. But it wasn't long before they were all awake and fully energized. Their screams and shrieks filled your head. A headache. That was what you were getting. A headache.
But it wouldn't last long, you might just be free by tomorrow.
You'd be free.
You wouldn't be stuck with the animatronic forever.
You'd make sure of it.
One way, or another.
Chapter End Notes
Discord Link:
https/discord.gg/zA437hyq6N
Heights, Games And Food
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Awake. Yes. You were awake. Wide awake. The screaming children did nothing to help the tormenting boredom. You might've been able to fall asleep had they not been shrieking. You were wishing more than ever that you could be back inside your warm house, it was always silent inside the desolate place. But now it was loud. The children, the animatronic's overly enthusiastic voice, even your thoughts were too much. Loud. It was too loud.
You might be able to get back home if you were successful in your escape plan. You couldn't enact it now. You were tied up and had no way to get back to ground level. When everyone had left the Pizzaplex was when you'd be able to make your move. The animatronic wouldn't be worrying too much about your whereabouts. At least, you hoped it wouldn't.
But there was another problem. How were you supposed to get home? You could walk, yes, but you didn't know exactly how to get back home. The route was jumbled and fuzzy. You knew your address, and you knew what your place looked like. But you just couldn't remember the way back. On top of that, you didn't have your phone… Wherever it was now.
But most anything would be better than staying with the animatronic. Keyword. Most. You could think of worse things, but there was a slim possibility of those becoming a reality. In fact, a ransom kidnapping would be better than whatever this was.
Your family would know where you were, and they'd be able to actually do something to help you. But that wasn't the case here. The animatronic didn't want a ransom, it wanted you. It had done this out of love, and it expected you to love it back.
You could hear the children talking, screeching, playing, and having fun. It was somewhat nice to know that you weren't completely shut off from the outside world. But it wasn't just the same. It was something you had already begun craving. Human interaction.
What was worse was this boredom. This. This was the true definition of boredom. You couldn't do anything, barely able to move, unable to talk. All you could do was think. You had all the time in the world to think, but at some point, that too, became boring.
You'd felt boredom before, but this was infinitely worse. Your body was hurting. Sore and stiff from the prolonged posture you were in. You wanted to do anything but this. You could look closely at the walls or the tears in the bed or you could analyze the color around you. But it just felt like you were attempting to entertain yourself for the sake of it. Which, to be fair, was exactly what you were doing.
"Would you look at that C-Carlos! S'pose your mother has come to pick you up!" It was the animatronic. A child? Leaving? Finally. This was just a step closer to you being free of the restraints that limited you. You shifted your body trying to clear the stiffness locking up your body. But you could already feel your body giving up, your thoughts were slowly becoming numb.
"Mmf." The gag was, unfortunately, doing its 'job' all too well. The muffled sound was so quiet, unable to be heard above the joyous screams of the children. Not even the animatronic would hear it. And, let's be fair, that said a lot.
Your neck and back were beginning to hurt from your curled posture. You couldn't really shift around, your arms in immense pain every time you shifted in the slightest. You sighed, as much as you could anyway, this was unfortunate indeed. You could even feel your feet beginning to cramp, the lack of water really taking its toll on you.
Maybe, if you fell asleep, time would 'go by faster.' What you were really looking for was an excuse to sleep. You were a little tired, yeah, but you assumed that to be because your body was trying to spare what little sustenance it had. Call it the human version of hibernation if you will.
You felt your eyes beginning to close, your body slowly starting to relax. It was odd because it felt like a food coma, the only difference was that your stomach was empty, pain radiating from your gut area. Your body still curled over like a shrimp, left you stiff, and perhaps feeling much worse when you woke up. But you weren't concerned with that, your eyes were already struggling to stay open any longer.
"Moon's told me some important information."
Damn it.
You had been so close to falling asleep, your body was struggling to comply with your brain, your eyes only opening in the slightest as your brain tried to drag you back into unconsciousness. Or maybe you had already been asleep. Either way, you still felt groggy and out of place.
You slowly lifted your head, looking over at the animatronic standing behind you. It gave an apologetic smile, taking off your gag, which allowed you to speak. "Yeah?" You could hear the tiredness in your voice, you sounded so… How should you put it?
Bitchy.
"They told me someone-" It pointed at you. "-was being difficult. Something about not eating as I recall." Oh. This is what it wanted to talk about. Great. A topic you didn't want to discuss, and especially not when you were so tired that you felt like you would pass out at any moment.
"Really?" Damn, your legs really hurt. You had to twist your body and balance on one of your legs in order to look at the animatronic without causing yourself severe neck pain. You sounded sarcastic, but you hadn't exactly meant it to be sarcastic.
You felt your arms drape to your side, stiffness enveloping them as you held them out in front of you. You could see purple and white bruise bands along your forearms, curiously you touched the tip of your finger to one of the bands that went all the way around your arm. Painful.
"Oooh yes, they did. Moon tells me lots of things about you." At this you felt one of the animatronic's fingers tilt your head slightly up, causing you to look into the face of the animatronic.
You could feel the eyebags under your eyes. At this point, you were just wondering how the animatronic could look at your disgusting state with a, more or less, straight face. "S'pose you tell me why you've been refusing?"
"Ask your… Other." You grumbled begrudgingly, turning your head away from the animatronic. Your neck aching from all the sudden movement. You felt a huff come from the animatronic before it tore the ribbon that was tied around your ankles.
"You're holding a grudge aren't you!" It whined, grabbing hold of one of its sunrays and pushing it inside its faceplate. When it moved its hand, the ray shot back out, realigning with its many others. "We're just trying to make s-sure you-"
It cut itself off by biting on its silver tongue. Frustrated. It was obviously frustrated. It shook its head as it walked over to one of the desks on the far side of the room. It looked back at you with yet another apologetic look on its face.
You moved your body so that your legs were stretched out in front of you, and your arms were supporting your upper body as you leaned back. "We're just trying to make sure you eat." Finished the animatronic as it turned back toward you. "We just want a chance.
"Why should I give you a chance?" You certainly held a grudge. You even had logical reasons to back yourself up. What did the animatronic have? Nothing. Really, it had no good reason that any good person would agree with.
The animatronic stood there silently. Thinking. "Because you're safer here?" Was it looking for an answer that you'd agree with? Or was it trying to convince itself that you truly were safer 'here,' with it, in a daycare?
Your glare alone made the rays of the animatronic retract. "That's not true." You pointed to the bruising on your arms, dark purple with splotches of an off-white color. Even the animatronic knew that the bruises hurt and that its reasoning was flawed. If that wasn't enough, you had a whole shoulder's worth of proof.
The animatronic scoffed, spikes jutting out once more. "Fine then, s'pose you want a better answer?" It approached you.
"Yeah, I do." You were testing it.
The animatronic used three of its fingers to force you to look directly at its face. A cruel grin with sharp teeth, much like Moon's. "I just don't think you realize! We're doing this so you get no less than what you deserve. We can provide so much more than any other person can!" That wasn't true. It wasn't true at all. But you didn't know how to respond.
Its grip loosened, the tips of its claws just barely avoiding puncturing your skin. "You just have to give us a chance. We. No, I. I will make sure you won't regret it."
You could feel the afterburn sore of bruises along your jaw. More wounds to add to your collection. You weren't cowering in the animatronic's presence, but you weren't prepared to bite back either.
You chewed on the inside of your lip, your eyes darting off to the side, focusing on the background behind the face of the animatronic. Embarrassment. Yeah, maybe what you had to say was out of place. But if you didn't say it now, you'd have to wait a long while before you actually could. "I need to go to the bathroom." You whispered. Sure, it was a cheap way to get out of this conversation, but you also really had to go. You felt embarrassment linger in your stomach, the silence drawing out as the animatronic thought of what to say.
"Right." It finally said, processing what you said to its full extent. Its hand fell from your jaw, instead picking you up underarms. It hugged its cold body to yours. But the glare on your face was enough evidence that you didn't like being hugged directly into the animatronic's mass.
It instead hooked its arm under your knees, carrying you bridal style. With just one arm it was holding the entirety of your body's mass, proof that it was so much stronger than you.
The animatronic carried you over to the balcony, stepping up onto the outlook. It held its hand out, calling that very same tether the animatronic hooked to its back. Looking up you could see the uniquely designed pulley system the tether was attached to. A soft click could be heard as the animatronic hooked the tether to the ring loop on its upper back.
As you looked out at the play area of the daycare far down below, you grew a feeling of extreme nausea. The heights were dizzying. "Don't drop me." You whisper hissed to the animatronic, your fingers attempting to dig into the light layer of silicone on the animatronic.
Fear. You were fearful. You didn't want to feel that stomach-churning feeling, that gut-gripping tension. You didn't want to experience it ever again, but here you were, meer/mere seconds from it.
The animatronic did little to ensure you, instead making you more scared than you already were. It looked down at you, rays covering the lighting above, its white pupils fixated on you. A sadistic grin plastered to its face. Maniacal the animatronic was.
Oh. Oh. It liked your fear, it absolutely delighted in it. You were fucking terrified. You hated the animatronic, but you definitely hated heights more. And this, this is another reason you hadn't jumped off yet. You would've lived your last moments in petrification.
The animatronic suddenly stepped off the balcony, your body instantly stiffening. And, like the scared person you were, buried your head into the chest of the animatronic, terrified to look down. You hated this. You hated this and wanted to cry. Stuck between two things you hated. Heights and the animatronic.
You couldn't possibly hug the animatronic any tighter, your nails digging into that layer of silicone. You felt the animatronic's grip on your body tighten around you, bundling up your fabric in its hands. You felt its other hand support your back, providing you with some sort of comfort. Was it doing this out of pity? Maybe.
The animatronic finally made it to the floor, a low chuckle coming from it. "S-Scared?" A taunt? Or general concern? You were unsure. And, neither did you really care, glad it was over.
"Maybe." It was all you could force out, it knew. It didn't have to ask. It absolutely knew. Your grip was still fastened into the animatronic, but the animatronic didn't seem to mind, which you were secretly happy about.
The animatronic carried you through the play area, opening the brown castle door. It walked over to an overhang area, a little 'cave' being created by the secondary floor above it. The animatronic set you down, touch lingering on your shoulder.
Your feet against the tiled floor was absolutely disgusting, but you attempted not to think about the mass amount of germs covering the floor. "S'pose you don't do anything that'll get you in trouble?" A warning? Abso-fucking-lutely. You looked down at the tiled floor once more. Disgusting.
You walked toward the bathroom door and opened it.
You finished quickly, washing your hands. You could see the embarrassment littered on your face. The mirror held nothing back from you. The pink covering your cheeks and nose were barely noticeable, but they were there. So obvious to you.
You walked out of the bathroom feeling icky all over. Bacteria, nastiness, and even the hot blush added to that awful feeling. The animatronic's head tilted in your direction, recognizing that you were now back in its clutches.
The animatronic hunched over so that it was eye level with you. Head tilting in the slightest. "Are you perhaps willing to eat now?" It questioned. In truth, yes. Yes, you were absolutely starving. But the last incident remained in your head, you didn't want a repeat. Not now, not ever.
"No." You whispered, slightly scared to deny the animatronic for… What? The third (3rd) time? The fourth (4th) time? Something like that. That incident had been unsanitary, disgusting, embarrassing, and messy. But you couldn't ignore the pangs of hunger in your stomach, starving. Gluttonous. Your stomach was becoming gluttonous, your mouth salivating in agreement.
The animatronic frowned, disappointed. It crossed its arms, straightening its posture as it did so. "You'll have to eat sometime, you know that." You did know that. You knew you'd have to give in eventually. It knew that too. It knew that you would have to break.
"All you have to do is say a simple word. You know it." This, this was it taunting you. You shook your head; yes, you were being difficult. You knew it, but you weren't trying to be annoying, not on purpose this time anyway.
You hated that it knew. You hated that it could read your feeling so well. And yet, you always refused to admit it. You refused because you didn't want it to be right. Ever. "I'm not hungry." You stated firmly. Refusal. You refused to let it push you around into unwanted situations. At least, not without a fight.
It scowled at you, but it didn't ask you again. "Make a decision we agree with before it gets physical." It threatened you. Of course, it did. If it didn't get what it wanted, it'd find a way to force you. "But." It let out an animated sigh. "Until then, s'pose we can enjoy our time together."
The animatronic held its hand out for you to take. Without question, you placed your hand into its own. But, once you realized it had hold of your hand, you tried to pull away. The animatronic had a strong grip on your hand, you were, unfortunately, unable to pull it away. "What're we gonna do?" The animatronic was leading you back to the daycare, clearly, it had something in mind.
"Something…" Thinking. It was thinking. Did it perhaps not know? Maybe. "Fun." Made you curious. Made you nervous. The animatronic opened the main door, leading you to an open space in the daycare's play area.
"Stay here." The animatronic pointed at you as it turned around, calling the tether to itself. You looked down at where you were standing. You decided to sit down while you waited, sitting cross-legged as you watched the animatronic disappear between the red curtains of its balcony.
The animatronic quickly returned, landing a few paces away from you, carrying a red, white, and green box. The game? Monopoly. You weren't against it, you'd admit, it was quite fun. The only downside was that the game was time-consuming, often requiring hours of dedication to complete.
It was a game known to ruin friendships. You also couldn't help but bitterly wonder if it ruined relationships as well. The animatronic quickly set up the game, money and all. The both of you each got the typical starting money of 1500. "Which piece?" Asked the animatronic, holding out all the playable pieces in both its hands.
"Boat." You picked up the boat piece from the animatronic's hands, setting it down on the 'Pass Go' space. The animatronic picked the top hat for itself, placing it next to the boat. The animatronic then tried to hand you two dice.
"You roll first." It prompted.
"You're the banker. You go first." The stand of money and property beside the animatronic was proof enough that it had self-decided that role itself. It huffed but rolled the two dice anyway.
It rolled an eight (8). It landed on Vermont Avenue, buying the property for 100 Monopoly dollars. It was now down to 1400. It then bought 4 houses, 50 each, 200 total. Now it was left with 1200.
It gestured toward the dice, silently telling you that it was your turn. You picked up the die, rolling it into the center of the board. You got a five (5), landing on Reading Railroad. You could've bought the space, but you didn't. It wasn't worth it early game, better to get later on via chance cards.
The game continued like this for who knows how long. Land on a property spot and think it through. Buy houses, and hope the other landed on the property. Buying, Selling, Paying, Trading, and Rolling. That was how it went on.
And then? And then you lost, landing on the animatronic's fully stocked Boardwalk property. You silently cursed yourself when you realized that you were going to lose. "Don't look so sad, you played well." Assure the animatronic. You took that as a sign that you looked upset. But really, you didn't feel too bad about it.
"It was a good game." The animatronic began cleaning up the property cards, reorganizing them by color. The game was fully put away within a few moments, carefully reorganized the way it had been when the box was first opened.
It looked at you, and you looked back. The unnerving stare of the animatronic building silent tension. "Don't think you've gotten away. We still need you to eat." Damn. You weren't getting away with this, were you? You had to. But did you want to? Still no. Your stomach was gurgling, begging to be fed. And yet you kept refusing. That emptiness was painful, your mouth was uncontrollably salivating. And? And it was fucking horrendous.
"We know you're hungry." It pressed. It knew. It knew you were hungry. And you hated that it knew.
You sighed, a painful spike in your stomach making you rethink. "Fine." The hatred was so easily heard in your voice; you didn't want to do this. But you had to. You had to eat.
The animatronic instantly brightened up. A genuinely enthusiastic smile spread across its face. It stood up, offering its hand to you. And again, you took it. "What about the box?"
It looked down at the Monopoly box. "Later. This is an achievement." Declared the animatronic, leading you outside the daycare. Up the stairs and toward a garage-like door with both Sun and Moon painted on it.
Right as the animatronic was close enough to open the garage door, an announcement played. It was muffled, but you could depict something about nighttime protocols and how the place was closed down for the night. Even if the place was closed down, it didn't mean everyone was out. You were, quite literally, living proof of that.
But you would get out. You had a plan, an idea. You just had to wait a little bit longer before you would be free of the animatronic's ever-watchful gaze.
"I think El Chips will be our best option." Muttered the animatronic. "They don't serve pizza on Tuesdays, right?" Was it talking to itself? Probably. You had no place to comment on what the animatronic did and didn't do. "Variety? Yes, that's what I'm looking for." You were confused now. "Perfect idea! Then we can go to the fourth (4th) floor tomorrow."
You looked over at the Pizzaplex's entrance, Freddy's face painted on the metal shafts blocking off the main door. Whereas Freddy looked overly happy in the painting, you felt completely miserable. Yes, Monopoly had been fun, but you didn't forgive it. It was either that or boredom.
"Does that sound ok with you?" You had stopped listening to it for a split second, now it was asking a question directed toward you. You only shrugged in reply, not quite knowing what you were agreeing to. For the better, or for the worst.
All you had to do was endure this torment a little longer. There were two things that needed to happen. You needed a vent; you could get those open. But you also needed the animatronic's attention off of you.
Once you got the vent open, you'd crawl in and hide until the plex opened. But that was another thing. It needed to be a larger-sized vent, one of the ones installed in open, large, crowded areas. Those would be the only ones you could fit in.
But that was the problem, you had to wait until those certain conditions had been met. And when they were, you'd make your move.
It was only a matter of time before that opening would happen. You'd seen the vent you were aiming for; you just needed the animatronic's eyes off you.
Time.
You needed time.
The chances were close to impossible.
But you had hope.
Chapter End Notes
Discord Link:
https/discord.gg/zA437hyq6N
Hunger
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
"Tacos, burritos, rice, tamales, enchiladas…" It was listing. It was listing the available options, and you couldn't even bring yourself to think about what you might want. To you, they all sounded good.
"Anything. Any of those. All of those." It was all you said because you couldn't remember what it had named off. Your head lay atop your crossed-over arms, the cold table making your body shiver along with the lack of food. Your stomach making it well-known that it was starving.
"But I-we don't know what you'd prefer! How're we supposed to make a meal you'd actually enjoy?" Simple. You didn't care. You actually couldn't care less. No matter how repulsive the food, you'd eat it. Your stomach was pounding into your body. Nausea clouding your vision, you were too hungry to decide. Too hungry to think. Too hungry to care.
You didn't say anything, and that seemed to be clue enough that it wasn't ever going to get a proper answer. You heard the animatronic grumble something, whether a complaint about you or talking to itself, you didn't care. You hated this; you hated this feeling of being so hungry that you were delusional.
Your stomach cramped up, attempting to force stomach acid out of your body. That sick feeling of needing to throw up overcoming you. Your face against the cold table eased the terrible feeling. But it didn't go away, the jabbing edge to the off-putting feeling did, however, subside, if only a little bit.
You could feel your intestines biting at you. And more than ever, you felt like you had fucked up. You silently wished that you had accepted the animatronic's offer. You wouldn't be feeling so… So Terrible.
You heard the burner clicking on, the orange-blue flames curling up in the corner of your eye. The animatronic picked up an egg from the carton, cracking it against the side of a medium-sized metal bowl.
It continued this process until it had cracked six (6) eggs in total. You watched as the animatronic left your vision, if only for a second, before returning with a milk container in hand.
It cracked open the lid, pouring just a splash of milk into the bowl. You watched as it whisked the two things together using a fork. It then poured the contents into the pan. Now, it turned toward you. "Sweetest…" You looked up at the animatronic. Miserable. "Do you think you can last a bit longer or would you like something to hold you off?" It asked, its voice sounding odd… Nicer than usual. The looming threat in its pitch had eased off.
"Food. I'm starving." The animatronic gave a small nod, turning back to the cooking eggs. You let your face rest against the table once more. You were barely holding onto consciousness, the gut-gripping pain of starvation obscuring your brain, making it harder than ever to think properly.
The next few minutes passed rather quickly, the animatronic cooking up a small meal for you to busy yourself with while you waited. A clatter in front of you alerting you that the animatronic had finished preparing your side meal. You pulled the plate toward you without hesitation, saliva being rapidly produced from your salivary glands.
It was a plate of scrambled eggs.
Seasoned and prepared to your liking.
Odd.
You picked up the fork, mumbling a 'Thanks' to the animatronic as you took your first ravenous bite. You knew it heard you, as its rays were spinning in delight. You could see from the corner of your eye that the animatronic was watching you shovel the scrambled eggs into your mouth. You couldn't tell if it was indulging in the fact that you were eating its food, or that it had gotten you to eat something in the first place.
Your stomach worked quickly for each bite of egg you ate. You couldn't really tell if the eggs were 'good,' your appetite too gluttonous to allow you to take the time to indulge in the flavor. Yes, they tasted 'good' as of now, but you weren't sure if it was your stomach tricking your mind into thinking so.
You might've tried to savor the eggs had your stomach not been dying. And even now, now that you had started to devour the plate, you couldn't slow down. You had started to satisfy the needs of your stomach, and you couldn't bring yourself to deny that feeling of satisfaction.
You scraped the last bite of egg into your mouth. It wasn't enough for your stomach. But it did well to prevent that ache in your intestines. It left you wanting more, and soon, you'd get more. You just had to wait. You set the fork on the plate, pushing it off to the side as you rested your head on your folded arms once more.
You could smell the taunting aromas looking for your attention. Seasoning, things being cooked into tasteful pieces, they were all trying to pull you in. But you dared not look. Your hunger still lurking. "Tsk, Tsk, Tsk." It was the animatronic. "You shouldn't have been difficult with us. None of this would be happening had you given in." Taunting. This was the animatronic taunting you.
"I'm not in the mood." It wasn't like you were ever in the mood, but now? You were particularly not in the mood. You were sure the animatronic knew that. You felt the tips of the animatronic's claws against your cheek. The coldness of the metal was soothing, in its own odd way of course. In response to the stimuli, you closed your eyes. The animatronic hummed as it then proceeded to lay its palm flat against your cheek.
"I'm not trying to annoy you. I just can't see why being agreeable with us is so hard." Your body shivered, reacting to the coldness of the animatronic. It let out a low chuckle, one that sounded like its other's. Moon. "You like making things difficult-difficult, don't you-you?"
It was right. Whichever side of the animatronic that was talking to you, was right. Maybe you did, but that was your nature. That was the nature of humanity. That was how humans evolved, by making everything overly complicated. "Get over it. All people do." It was true. But the way you phrased it definitely didn't help de-escalate the situation.
"Here we go again." Snarked the animatronic, turning away from you so it could refocus on the task at hand without you bothering it. Not like you wanted to continue arguing with it, your fighting spirit was dying, and quickly.
You could smell the food, hear it even. Your stomach hit you again as you impatiently fidgeted in the chair you were sitting in. You knew you were idly staring at the animatronic, but you couldn't draw your eyes away. It looked over at you before approaching you, the bells on its shoes jingling as it moved toward you. "May I see your arm?" It tapped your uniform lightly, gesturing toward your forearm.
You handed your arm over to the animatronic, too tired to argue back with it. It took your wrist in its large hand, fingers dipping just beneath the gray fabric. Your lack of response must have been what urged the animatronic to continue forth. It pushed your sleeve up to your elbow, attempting, and failing, to not press against your bruises.
Its fingers traced lightly against the four bands of purple bruises going around your entire arm. Splotchy white spots were littered into the mix with the purple, creating a sickeningly dark purple look. Your skin around it was red in inflammation, and painful. It was painful. And yet, you could do nothing to help yourself. You were a victim of the animatronic. It had total control over you.
Even the animatronic looked away from the painful patches. Its claws traced a bruise, its cold exterior soothing the inflamed bits. "I know these aren't the only injuries you have." It pointed at the same shoulder of the arm it was manipulating. You felt guilty. And for what? "We-I want to get you fixed up. It'll only take a few minutes. Promise."
You glanced over at the cooking food. You didn't know if you could wait. Could you? Maybe. "We know you're hungry, starving even. But it's not ready yet. I promise when we get back, I'll serve you something as quickly as possible." Persuading. It was attempting to persuade you into accepting. You finally gave in, nodding. Speaking was too difficult for you at the moment.
Plus, your wounds might finally heal up. You were already accumulating quite a few, and it was evident some of them would scar. The animatronic picked you up, carrying you bridal style. You only grumbled at this, a possible complaint dying in your throat.
The animatronic walked to the same elevator that the two of you had taken to get up to the third (3rd) level. It pressed the down button twice, which you assumed to be correlating to the number of floors you wanted to go down.
You clung onto the animatronic, scared that it might drop you at any minute. You may have been feeling dizzy, but it didn't mean that you threw self-preservation out the window. The elevator's tune stopped playing, and the doors opened.
The animatronic stepped out and looked around. It was on the same floor as the daycare, the balcony and stairs pointed toward the entrance, but the entrance was barricaded off. It was meant to keep people out. You had little hope you could get through the thick metal shafts.
The animatronic walked in the opposite direction of the daycare, instead walking down the stairs and taking a sharp right. The animatronic was heading toward a gray door, large letters spelling 'STAFF ONLY,' were printed in bold.
The animatronic didn't pay it any mind though, instead carrying your weightless body through the threshold of the door. It descended down the stairs, dim yellow lights keeping the animatronic from switching. But you knew. You knew the other was begging to be let out.
You could see it.
Its rays jittered, some sticking out farther than others, some pushed in. You could see the twitch at the edge of its mouth, and the darker color of its pupils. No longer were they an off-white, but a dark grey. You could see the animatronic's other. You could see Moon.
The animatronic descended down the last of the stairs, and something caught your eye. There was a large vent, one that you could fit in, one that you could attempt to escape through. You quickly looked away, nervous the animatronic might follow your gaze.
It set you down on a bench. A small area, safeguarded by a red curtain that hung from a track on the ceiling. The animatronic pulled out a medical kit from underneath the wooden bench, which was connected to the wall. It set the white box beside you, clicking it open with a simple motion of its thumbs. "Could you…?" The second it looked over at your scrunched-up body, knees to your chest, head resting on top of your legs, its question died.
"Could I what?" No, it didn't exactly come out nicely, but you couldn't care less. Your stomach was gnawing at you, and your mood was already turning sour. You wanted to eat, to end the painful suffering you had gotten yourself into. You just wanted to get your hands on something you could devour, something to chow down on.
"Well. We-I need to see…" It pointed to a spot particularly low on your chest. But it was pointing at the infected wound on your chest. It knew. It sounded nervous. Nervous and scared that you would react temperamentally. You would have, yes. But you were too hungry to care. You could barely make sense of the world around you; you were already reaching the extent of your limited comprehension.
You brought your shaky hand to the top button of the uniform, "Look away, would you?" It seemed surprised by your quick compliance, evidently turning around, clasping its hand behind its back as it gave you the privacy you requested. You just wanted to eat. You wanted to satisfy that insatiable craving for food. And the longer you refused to comply, the longer it'd take for you to satisfy your needs.
You unbuttoned your uniform, taking it off as quickly as you could. The cold air hitting your flesh was an almost repulsive feeling, you couldn't stop the shivers that racked your body. Goosebumps began forming on your skin, an unpleasant feeling to you.
You laid the long-sleeved uniform over the more delectable parts of your flesh, holding it in place with your hand. You were still squeezing yourself into the corner between the two intersecting walls and the wooden bench. Believe it or not, it helped warm your body up.
"Good." You muttered out loud for the animatronic to hear. The sooner you overcame your embarrassment, the sooner you would be able to fill your stomach with freshly cooked food.
The animatronic turned around almost instantly, it took hold of your exposed arm in one of its hands, holding it out so that it could get a better look at the untended areas. You felt one of its fingers touch your infected wound, and in reaction, you shivered, attempting to squirm away from the animatronic.
"I wish we could've tended to these sooner." It grumbled to itself, tongue slithering between its teeth. That was another thing, that was another way you could see the two being the same. When the two spoke, their tongue managed to make an appearance somehow.
You watched as the animatronic poured a clear liquid onto a white stain-free rag. It raised the rag up toward your shoulder, dabbing it around the bloody areas of your skin. Instantly your wounds began to burn. Hydrogen Peroxide. Not the best thing to use for cleaning wounds, due to the side effects of the alcoholic substance.
Your skin was starting to blister, with small bubbles forming around each injury's scab. You attempted not to shift away from the animatronic, an itchy feeling spreading across your skin as the Peroxide was applied.
"S-Sorry Sweet Thing." The animatronic's grip on your wrist tightened, preventing you from pulling away. "The company goes for the bare minimum of what they can pass with. This just so happens to be one of those minimums." Was it apologizing on behalf of the company, or apologizing for itself? You couldn't be sure.
"I can tell." You snickered, your hand becoming shaky as the limb grew tired from the odd position the animatronic had forced it into.
"I didn't think your skin would react this way." Whined the animatronic as its cold finger ran over the amounting blisters surrounding your injuries. "I'll send in a recommendation that they use a jelly-based compound."
"It's… Fine… I guess." Fine? Nothing was fine. Why would anything be fine? It hadn't been fine since… Since this all started. There had always been something wrong, and now you were just… Fine? The animatronic let go of your wrist, your arm falling to your side as you let the sore muscles recuperate.
Even the animatronic seemed surprised, its silent answer enough proof that it hadn't expected you to say something so… Docile. The animatronic grabbed another rag, patting down the areas it had touched with the Hydrogen Peroxide. You assumed the animatronic was doing this to prevent your skin from breaking out any more than it already had.
"There's… Nothing more I can do." Commented the animatronic as it traced one of the bruise bands on your forearm. Its cold hands soothing the overworked area of skin. "I-We can't cover these areas, but I do think checking in often should suffice-suffice." As it spoke, it rubbed its thumb over the bruises, your hand shaking in the animatronic's own. It was good enough. What the animatronic was providing was good… Enough.
Then it let your arm go, backing away and standing up to its full height. It reached an outstretched hand toward you. But when you backed away from it, readjusting your shirt to your liking, it stopped. "I…" It pulled its hand away, shaking its head to itself. "Sorry, Sweetest. How about you put your shirt on and… And I'll go finish up your meal." It let out a nervous chuckle as it clasped its hands together, smile faltering as it realized its mistake. "Be-Be back soon, s'pose you don't do anything idiotic.?" It didn't wait for an answer, already scaling the stairs before it had finished speaking.
When you heard the door leading to the maintenance tunnels shut, you shifted the shirt off yourself. You slipped your arms back into the sleeves and buttoned up the front of the shirt.
You needed to get to the vent. This was the perfect opportunity. You could try to escape now. And so early? Yes. Yes, this was an opportunity you wanted. You slowly stood up, your legs feeling weak as you stood upright. The animatronic wouldn't be back for a long while. This was your chance. A chance you had to take.
You stumbled, using the bench as a support for your weight. You peeked past the red curtain, spotting the vent. You walked down the shortened hallway, slipping your fingers around the vent cover.
But the second your grip tightened; you realized your mistake. You realized that you had messed up.
The shock hit you first, then the seething jolt of realization.
And then?
And then the burning inflammation of pain.
Chapter End Notes
Discord Link:
https/discord.gg/zA437hyq6N
Anger
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Your hands felt like they were on fire. It was now that you were beginning to realize that you had messed up. Not that attempting to escape was the mistake, but that you had been careless while trying to do so.
You could only relate to this as cutting yourself with a knife. And not on purpose. Not when you were expecting it. But on accident, as if you were doing the dishes and accidentally misplace one of your fingers. Or perhaps when you were cutting things like fruits or vegetables and fail to move your fingers out of the way.
That was how this felt. That was how painful this was… Upped by three (3). You could feel the blood against your skin, warm and unmistakable. It was painful. It was painful, and yet you refused to cry. It was odd because crying was typically the first reaction many others had when they got hurt, in your experience, crying only made the pain worse. It made you feel terrible.
Your body would feel overly warm, giving you headaches like no other. And now? And now there was still no logical point to cry. Yes, there was something to cry about, but did it help your situation? Short answer. No. Long answer. No.
You could only stare at your hands, blood beginning to stain the shiny metal you were gripping onto. You could see your reflection in your own blood, and it seemed to be its own cruel reminder that you had truly fucked up. You were too scared to pull away, your hands shaking as you slowly began to slacken your grip.
You didn't know what to do, you didn't what you could do. Your hands were shaking from both the food deprivation and the indescribable pain coming from the nerves of your hand.
You decided you had to take this slow, you had to stop the bleeding first and assess the damage after. With that mindset, you lifted one of your palms off the sharp-edged metal, a stinging sensation burning your skin as fresh air hit directly onto your newfound wound(s).
You clenched your teeth as you pulled your fingers away from the vent, your hand hurt to move, it hurt too much to even move your arm normally. You were doing this all in a robotic fashion. You were scared of injuring yourself further. You had to be careful. And when you meant careful, you meant careful.
You slowly pulled your other hand away, holding both of them limp in front of you. You got down on your knees, easing the stress of the weight on your ankles. Your hands hurt too much, and each and every movement you made worsened the sickening throb in your hands. You could feel your veins pulsing, an unpleasant feeling overcoming you.
"Fuck." You had messed up. You had taken the chance provided to you. And you had fucked it up. You began to hyperventilate; everything was going downhill. You had messed up your opportunity, and you couldn't turn back now. You were far past the point of turning back. It only took a few seconds for you to cross that point, but it was becoming evidently clear now that you would have to tell the animatronic.
The gushing hot substance dripped onto the floor; a puddle being created underneath your shaky hands. Your vision began to blur, shapes becoming incomprehensible to you. The reality of the situation was finally beginning to settle back down on you. The pain was taking its toll. Both your stomach and your hands were against you at this very moment.
You could barely feel the tips of your fingers, they were numb to the pain, and that scared you more than it should have. You couldn't feel them… Were they still there? Yes. You would've noticed if they weren't there anymore.
The hot substance on your hands felt like acid against your skin, hot and uncomfortable. Your hands began to sting more than burn at this point. You couldn't tell if that was a good sign or not. Either way, the feeling was unpleasant to you. You could feel your hands twitch as you resisted the urge to tense up your muscles, it was an inevitable fresh wave of pain you'd be asking for if you did that.
You slowly backed away from the grate, pressing up against the wall, stretching your legs out in front of you. You had failed in attempting to escape the animatronic. You had messed up, and not just with yourself. The animatronic would find out. There was no way it wouldn't. There was blood everywhere, you were obviously bleeding severely, and your hands were practically useless now, incapable of doing what any other person's hands could do.
You bit back your protesting pain; you began to turn them upwards so you could see the bloody mess they had become. Pain sparked through your fingers at the action, causing you to bite the inside of your lip. Though you couldn't see exactly what your hands looked like, you could tell that there were multiple cuts.
Two (2) long cuts ran through the palms of your hands, and neither of them were clean slices, the edges were jagged and didn't exactly seem to be at all 'connected' in the slightest. And on the joints of your fingers, your skin was scratched and torn up.
The vent cover had snagged onto your skin and had torn apart the outer layer of your fingers. The webbing of your thumb and index finger looked to be torn too, but your thumb seemed to be the only thing that hadn't sustained heavy trauma.
Everything hurt. You felt your throat begin to close up, nausea taking its hold on you. You began to gag on nothing. The sight alone was enough to make you want to throw up, but you had nothing to get rid of. Your hands didn't even appear to be your own anymore. The mutilation of your skin had you choking. You had fucked up. You had really fucked up.
Your heart was pounding. Your breathing was rapid and shallow. The pain was excruciating. The gore was terrifying. And you were absolutely petrified about what the animatronic would say to you. Nonetheless, do to you. Your body was shaking as you slowly came closer and closer to having a panic attack. What were you going to do? What were you going to say? You just didn't know. You just… Didn't know.
Your body was taking you down. Nausea. The visuals. All of it. Your body was starting to process the trauma to its full extent. You could feel the tears forming in your eyes, a headache pounding in your skull. It was too much for you, too much for your body.
You could feel everything around you blurring, spots dancing in your vision. Your hyperventilation was starting to take its toll. All the factors weighing down on you. And, just like that, you were out.
You had, inevitably, blacked out.
— — — — —
"Welcome to Monty's Gator Golf! Home of The Hurricane Hole in One!" You'd heard the automated message before; it always played any time a person entered the attraction's main elevator. You didn't mess around with the attraction often, it wasn't really anyone's favorite, but quite popular for larger groups of people who just wanted to have a good time.
Speaking of which, you were going down to the floral area to meet up with your friends who had invited you to join them in a couple of rounds of golf.
Maybe Gator Golf wasn't your favorite attraction, but it's what they had decided on before asking you. It seemed rude to put in your own opinions after they had directly invited you. And not that you were a freeloader, but one of them had promised to pay for the expenses of drinks.
The elevator slowed as it reached its stop, the doors opening to reveal the very green, gator-themed place. The sounds of the robotic gators popping out of the water seemed to be the only thing you could hear. At first anyway. But if you listened close enough, you could hear hushed voices coming from the various groups of people gathered around.
— — — — —
You woke up dazed. But you were wide awake nonetheless. You seemed to be paralyzed from your position on the floor. You quickly took in the features around you. Were you in any danger? No. Not right now anyway.
The flooring.
You remembered it.
Dull wooden planks.
Yes, it was the animatronic's room. You were back in the animatronic's room. Go back to your retort of this not being a daycare. Maybe the balcony wasn't part of the daycare, but it was far too close for your liking.
Your body was splayed on the cold wood, the hot, stuffy air weighing down on you. What was that about hot air rising? Yeah, no wonder it was hot. Of course, that was excluding the floor you were laying on.
You noticed your hands only had a slight soreness to them, nothing painful. They didn't hurt, but you were scared to attempt to move them. You were scared to break the trance your motionless state had on your body.
You could see the animatronic pacing across from you. Walking back and forth in front of the scattered cabinets and broken furniture on the completely opposite side of the room. Thinking? Was it thinking? Probably.
"That doesn't answer my-my question! You're-are avoiding it-it like a-a child avoids telling the truth-truth!" It was the sun-themed side of the animatronic. It was the one you particularly wished to be avoiding at the moment. It had expected you to listen to it, and you hadn't. It had even warned you too. It had warned you. Twice.
And now you were absolutely regretting even trying. You wouldn't be suffering as much as you were. You wouldn't be stuck with the body horror you called your hands. You couldn't recall what the cuts looked like, not exactly anyway, but the basic imagery was there. What you remembered was enough to make you physically shudder. You were scared to see what they looked like now. They were in your peripheral vision, but you refused to focus on them. You didn't want to. You couldn't bring yourself to do so.
"You know how I feel-feel Moon." Moon? Could it even talk to its other? Had you missed out on the clues? "I think I deserve to-to give them what they d-deserve. They… They didn't listen-listen to me! I thought-believed we already agreed on this-this." Did it know you were awake? Probably not. It wouldn't be talking so freely, would it? Well, it had made that one comment. But you had assumed it was bluffing.
"That won't-won't work! They have-have to learn." Yes, you knew it would have something planned for you, but this didn't sound like… Planning. This sounded like they were arguing. Like Moon was trying to lower the bar. Was it trying to do that for you? Or were you getting the situation mixed up? You couldn't be sure.
The animatronic's pacing slowed down. Its face contorted into a look of dissatisfaction. "And- And what if that- that doesn't work? What will we do th- then?" What if what didn't work? There was a whole other side to this conversation that you weren't hearing, and it was leaving you confused.
"Difficult." Chitted the animatronic, it crossed its arms and began tapping its foot, as if listening to another voice. Yes, someone was talking to it, and frankly, the only other that might possibly be around to listen in was its other side. It had even said its name too, hadn't it? "Maybe." Its facial expression turned into a more thoughtful one.
"Might work, yes-yes." Its snake-like tongue flicked out of its mouth. This was a rare appearance for the sun-themed side of the animatronic. You couldn't help but notice that it too had a light gray/grey tongue with dark gray/grey stripes running through the solid color. "But if this doesn't work, I'll be-be taking action as I see-see fit. Got it?"
"Sun?" You didn't want to listen anymore. You had heard enough. You preferred them to talk about it when you weren't listening. In a tactical position, it would've been better, but you couldn't stand listening in on their horrific plans. Not that you had exactly heard any of them, but you already knew that they wouldn't make it at all fun for you. On top of that, you had no control over their decision(s) anyway. It was all inevitable.
The animatronic whipped toward you, its stare burning into your skull. It let out a guttural sound. Agitation? You didn't know what sound it had just made, but it definitely wasn't a happy one. It muttered something about how you, "Weren't supposed to-to wake up-up." But here you were. Awake.
It quickly turned away from you, pushing over a cabinet that was right in front of it. You watched as it slowly tilted over, gaining momentum as it got closer to the floor. The sound was loud, and despite you bracing for the impact, it still scared you, making you jump as it hit the floor.
You wanted to sit up instead of watch this whole scene from where you lay on the floor, but you couldn't. Your hands hurt for each adjustment you made to your body; it wasn't worth the pain. The aching you might feel. It wasn't worth it.
The animatronic glanced at the fallen cabinet but did nothing else with it. It grabbed a paper sitting on one of the only desks that hadn't been ruined in some way. It also grabbed a blue-wrapped piece of… Oh. You had seen that before. It was that pill, (Which you were starting to think might've been a piece of candy) the moon-themed animatronic had forced you to ingest.
"Wha-" It didn't let you finish.
"Don't make small talk to-to me, I'm seething right now-now." Snapped the animatronic, turning back toward you. "Answer me-us honestly-honestly." It walked back over to you, holding up the piece of paper it had in its hand. "Is this what you were planning?" Well, you definitely hadn't drawn, nor said anything about your plan. You had also made sure you had been extra careful not to slip up. And yet, the animatronic had drawn a pretty accurate depiction of what you had imagined was going to happen. But that's not how it had happened, did it?
It wasn't a bad drawing. But you definitely wished it had drawn you differently. In fact, it would've been better had the animatronic not drawn the skit at all. Your silence seemed to be the answer it needed; you were too nervous to answer.
It had… It had guessed everything. Waiting until you were alone so that you could open up the vent, then crawl into the ventilation system, and wait until The Pizzaplex's doors opened at six (6) a.m. so that you could run out. You hadn't even made it past the second step. In fact, you didn't even get the chance to attempt to pry off the vent cover, your hands had been messed up the second they got caught on the uneven edges of the vent. Your attempt had been a failure. A pathetic failure.
"I can't-can't believe you! I trusted-trusted you, I shouldn't have-have! But I did. And… And this is what you-you do with-with it!" It sounded genuinely upset. Upset and angry. It knelt down before you, its stare began to bore into you, your skin beginning to burn the longer it looked down at you. It crumpled the paper in its hand and threw it back over to the desk. It discarded the blue-wrapped candy off to the side. Using its free hand to grab your upper arm.
"Sit up." It commanded. "Before I do-do it myself." It was definitely upset. It had a scathing venom in its voice that you couldn't help but shy away from. It scared you. It made you regret even trying. It had been a fail. And you were paying the price for your failed attempt. You should've been more careful. You should've… Known. But you couldn't have known. How could you have?
It continued holding your arm as you tried to sit up without using your hands, yes, the animatronic did help a bit, but it seemed forced. It was so very clearly angry at you, and yet it didn't seem to be able to deny helping you as you needed it. "Do you-you even know what-what you did to yourself?" Was it a genuine question? You were unsure.
The animatronic grabbed your forearm, turning it upward so that the trauma to your hand was also visible. You looked away from the bloodied mess, you… You hadn't stopped bleeding. It wasn't gushing blood, but it was still dripping blood at an unreasonable rate. "We-I am so close-close to losing it-it!" It held up its other hand, putting its index and thumb close together as if displaying how fed up it was.
"You need stitches and-and I-we can't even provide that-that!" Stitches. The animatronic was right, it could do nothing to help your hands except make sure that the wounds didn't get infected, and that the scabs wouldn't be reopened. That was if they ever got scabbed over.
"We…" It gave up on its sentence. "We don't even-even know what to do-do… I… I'm inclined to not help-help you with-" It gestured toward your hand, "-this. I'm be-being serious. Why should I-I help you-you if you're just-just going to keep trying to-to run away from-from me? From us?" Upset. Angry. And threatening. All at the same time it could be those, and yet it somehow managed to show you that it was pitying you.
"I'm-"
"Don't talk-talk." You shut your mouth, avoiding looking at your hands. You couldn't stand seeing the gore afflicted upon them. It disgusted you. It hurt you. And… And it terrified you. Your own body terrified you. You were fragile. So easily breakable. But you used your attitude and unrelenting stubbornness to make yourself appear stronger than you really were. And alone? Alone you were nothing.
"Open your mouth-mouth." It unwrapped the blue candy it had set off to the side, putting the item into your mouth. "I won't do-do anything yet-yet. You're-are in enough pain-pain." It must've seen the hope that sparked in your eyes, that you might be getting away free of consequence. It couldn't have crushed that spark any faster. "That shenanigan-thing you pulled won't go-go under the-the radar. We'll be waiting until-until you can-can actually handle-handle it." It snarked at you, snickering.
You could feel the thing inside your mouth beginning to dissolve, the taste wasn't bad, just unnatural. Something you'd think would be produced by Willy Wonka's Factory. It didn't belong.
"Hate me-me if you wish-wish, but I think-feel we've made-made it perfectly clear that we're not-not letting you slip away-away from us-us." It used its finger to lift your chin so that you were forced to look up at it. "Be-Be lucky it isn't just me-me, if it weren't for-for Moon, you'd be-be screaming. You'd be in-in so much pain right now, you'd be wish-wishing you-you were anywhere else-else but here. With me." And it was back to threatening you. It confused you. It confused you, and you didn't like it. Not one bit.
"I want you-you to realize that-that you'll have-have to earn my trust. I handed it to-to you once, I am not making the-the same mistake again. Especially not-not with you." Your eyelids were already beginning to close against your will. Your body feeling… Heavier than usual.
The animatronic placed your hands on top of your legs so that they weren't rubbing against the fabric of your uniform's pants. Your body suddenly seemed to give up, slumping over as the pill took effect.
Chapter End Notes
I know I didn't put any warnings, and that was probably a bad move on me. But here's the thing…
I feel like I'm giving away the entire chapter by adding those warnings.
And, let's be fair here, your warning is in the tags. You've chosen to read this even after seeing the tags, you have consented to read these kinds of things the second you clicked on this title.
So, heads up, fair warning, I'm not going to put warnings in future chapters. I'm sorry if it's important to you, but I'm not going to do it.
Discord Link:
https/discord.gg/zA437hyq6N
Moon's Opinion
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
You woke up to a stinging pain in your right hand. You may have just woken up, still delusional, but the awful feeling of pain was clearer than purified water. You felt the torn muscles in your hand react by tensing up, a bad move on your part, another fresh wave of pain leaving your hand throbbing with discomfort.
"Awake-Wake, are you-you?" You recognized the voice. Of course you did. It was the side of the animatronic you hadn't gotten a direct opinion from. This could go exceptionally well, or horrifically wrong. It didn't sound angry. But then again, that didn't mean it wasn't. It might just be unnaturally good at hiding its true feelings. And to you, that was scarier than knowing how it might really feel.
You also happened to notice that you were leaning against the animatronic's arm, its soft sleeves cushioning your body. How…
Embarrassing.
"Mmm?" Was that a rhetorical question? You weren't sure. You assumed so, considering you were gagged, unable to form any real words. You could tell you were still under the effects of the candy, your brain struggling to figure out the world around you. The blue lights above didn't help either, each time you glanced at them, you got momentarily blinded.
You felt the animatronic's fingers trace against one of the tears in your hand. It was aware of how easily it could hurt you, using the pad of its finger, being careful to not apply pressure to the exposed flesh. This also happened to be the moment that your stomach made itself known, attacking the entire area of your abdomen.
You might've tried to distance yourself from the animatronic if you could. But you couldn't. It had your wrist in an uncomfortably tight grip, your legs still tied up. Your tongue unable to speak your bitter mind. You felt the animatronic touch the tips of your fingers, prodding them for a reaction. It… Didn't exactly hurt. You could feel the animatronic touching the tips, but your hands weren't plunged into pain.
It did this a few more times until it finally let go of your hand. It stood up, moving away from the wall. It clasped its hands behind its back as it walked to the other side of the room, only to turn around and head right back over to you.
This time it kneeled down in front of you, reaching its hands out to you so that it could untie your gag. Your stomach attacked again. Your dry throat telling you that you also needed water.
"Do-Do you think I am mad-furious?" It asked unexpectedly, the way its head was tilted made you generally question if it was serious or not.
Did you? You… Weren't entirely sure yourself.
You looked away from the animatronic's looming frame, generally thinking through the question. It finally managed to undo the knot, it pulled the gag off your face once it had done so, still expecting an answer. "A little." You spoke quietly, but still audibly. Impacted by the dehydration and nervous waver in your voice.
You could feel the goosebumps starting to show, the stare of the animatronic unbreaking as it thought about its next few words. You expected it to be mad, it was part of its other after all. It knew what had happened. It knew. It must have. It had been discussing with it before. But… But it didn't seem angry. Not right now anyway.
"Interesting-Interesting." And? Did that mean it was mad too? "I am-am… Not upset. Perhaps-Perhaps disappointed." Was that worse? Maybe. "I'm sure-sure you are-are, however, quite aware-aware of Sunny's overreactive-reactive reaction." Oh, yes, you were well aware. It had directly threatened you, had it not? Finally. Finally, it chuckled. You had been waiting for it, waiting for its most malicious form of a taunt.
The animatronic shook its head as it traced its finger across your jaw. "We are-are not-not in complete agreement-accordance at the moment-second. So, we've-have come up with-with a bit of-of a compromise." Compromise? So, the two did talk while you were asleep. Fantastic. You probably should've expected that. Not everything the two talked about would be discussed in front of you. And with good reason too.
"What's your opinion on this?" It was disappointed in you, yes. But, from context, it had convinced Sun to not make everything worse. What was that about? How did it really feel about your little attempt?
"My opinion?" It touched one of its fingers to the tip of your nose before pulling the same hand to its chest. "I think-think punishing you for-for attempting-trying to escape is a bad-terrible idea. I feel that-that it promotes-encourages sneaking around-round us. You only get-get punished-disciplined if you get caught-caught, do you not?"
What it was trying to say was… Technically true. But wasn't the point of punishing supposed to make you wary of getting caught? Therefore, leading to no more future incidents. If the animatronic didn't do anything, it just meant that you would sneak around without worry.
You weren't going to tell the animatronic there was a flaw, you were more than happy to let it figure that out for itself. Just because you had messed up one time, didn't mean you were just going to give up. As long as you could move and think for yourself, you'd attempt to escape. All you needed was time to heal up.
"Here is the thing, Thing. That doesn't mean-mean you'll be free-free of-of the consequences-consequences." The longer it stared into your eyes, the easier it became to see its dull-colored pupils. They were… Unnatural, to say the least. "And, of-of course, if this doesn't-doesn't deter you, we'll find something-thing that will." The animatronic really was a whiplash of threats, taunts, and sympathy.
The animatronic reached out toward one of your hands, turning the limb so that the palm of your hand was facing the animatronic. "You think-think of us as the main threat-threat. You've completely disregarded-ignored the surrounding environment around you-you, and now-now, that ignorance has taken-taken its-its toll. Hasn't it?" Well. Yes. Technically the animatronic was right. At the same time, it was wrong. Even if you had been paying attention, you probably would've gotten your hands messed up anyway. Keyword? Probably. You weren't entirely sure.
You only nodded. You hadn't expected anything so horrific to happen to you at the time. But something did happen. Something you wouldn't have been able to predict. "We-We expect you won't-will not cause any-any trouble. Not with-with those." It pointed at your hand, leaning in closer, "but we-we can never ever be too safe."
"I guess that's… Fair." You muttered. It nodded slowly, but said nothing more, the tension making you nervous. "How long will it take these to heal?" You knew it'd be a long while. B
ut you'd like an estimation, that was, if one was available to you.
That was if the animatronic decided to provide you with one.
"How long?" It stared at you for just a moment, the silence seeming longer than it should have. "If you're-are lucky. Three-Three weeks. But I-we have a feeling-feeling it'll-will take longer than-than that, especially since your-your hands refuse-fuse to scab properly-properly." Of course. Of course, the one time you managed to get your hands caught on a vent cover, you wouldn't be able to make a quick recovery.
Instead, you were stuck with the animatronic and its limited supply of supplies. And that was if it didn't leave you to fend for yourself, Sun had voiced its want to not help you. Why would Moon think any different?
"Sun-Sunny has proposed-proposed something-thing, however-ever." Really? That was something you didn't expect.
"Really?"
"Yes. Really." Suddenly it froze up. It looked over toward the balcony entrance, its full attention on something you weren't aware of. But then. But then you heard. You could hear footsteps. The animatronic picked up the gag that had been set off to the side and stuffed it into your mouth. It quickly secured the gag before standing up and walking over to the balcony.
The animatronic looked back at you and your confused face before lowering the black rope and attaching it to its back. It only took a few seconds before you heard the doors of the daycare opening, and then shoes scuffing against the floor.
As much as you tried to listen in on the commotion, you were fruitless. For a split second, you had the thought to rip the gag off and call out for help. But then reality hit you. Your hands would be alight with pain the second you tensed up. And again, how would they be able to reach you? You had already fucked up enough, you didn't need to dig the hole any deeper. Not right now anyway.
It took a while, but you heard the person, perhaps, people, begin to leave. Their shoes against the floor slowly began to fade as they left the area. Shortly after the animatronic landed on the balcony, it glanced down into the open area of the daycare, before turning to look at you.
It walked back over to you, hooking its finger between the gag and your skin. It pulled the makeshift gag off you, the knot coming undone with the tug.
"What was-"
"It doesn't-not concern-concern you." Its face rotated a full 360 degrees, saying nothing more.
"You said something about Sun proposing something?" You didn't like the silence it seemed to be purposely creating. But luckily, it didn't stop you from talking. Not this time anyway.
"Right. About that-that."
"Sunny is-is upset-furious. They have been-been… Awfully disagreeable-agreeable. So-So, we have-have combined what we both-both want." Both want? You were aware that Moon's other was upset and wanted to make the situation worse than it already was. Now, Moon's wants? You weren't quite aware of its desires yet.
"We'll-Will help-aid you with-with your lacerations-incisions, if you agree-agree to our-our terms, of-of course." Its tongue flicked from its mouth, head tilting in the slightest.
"What are they?"
"We'll help-help you, yes. But you'll-will eat when-when I-we offer, and-and Sun… Sun will be-be in charge of any… Future incidents." It didn't seem so bad at first. But then you thought about it. Future incidents. What did those include? And how could you be sure that you weren't getting the short end of the stick?
It didn't seem to be that bad. That was if you planned to stay forever. And you didn't. You couldn't. You didn't want to accept its offer. But you had to. You might never heal if you refused. And, frankly, letting your hands heal was top on your list.
"And what if I don't agree?" It wasn't like you were going to refuse the animatronic. All you needed was a little bit of convincing so that you didn't feel as regretful later.
"Then you'll-you'll be on your-your own. And our-our side-side of this 'deal' won't stand." On your own. That was the worst bit. You couldn't do anything to help yourself, even the limited supplies of the pizzaplex would be a longshot to rely on. You assumed that the medical supplies were low-quality because they were meant for smaller wounds. Things that weren't as serious. And, really, if it were truly bad, you'd be seeking professional medical help.
"I guess it's fair." You muttered, attempting to ignore the squirming feeling in your stomach. A feeling you had come to identify as regret. You hoped the animatronic wouldn't use this to its advantage. You wanted to gain its trust back, but you could only do that by agreeing and following as it said.
"Fantastic." Was that sarcasm? Probably not. It had gotten its way, did it not? "Now… You still-still haven't eaten-eaten. Have you?" No. You hadn't. You shook your head in response.
"Of course, you haven't-haven't." Snickered the animatronic. It picked up the gag. That was something you had noticed. It was being more cautious with you, making sure to gag you every time it felt necessary. It was understandable, but a little annoying at the same time.
It put the gag back into your mouth. Standing up once it was sure the shirt was properly in place. "I'll-Will see what-what I-I can do." It walked over to the red curtains, pushing the thin fabric to the side. "Water too-too, I-I assume?" It looked over at you, your only available option was to nod in response.
It stepped onto the balcony, holding its hand up to the ceiling. The black hook came down from the ceiling and was quickly maneuvered to the animatronic's back. It then stepped off the edge of the balcony.
Food. Water. You were in terrible need of the two. You were in terrible need of a lot of things. Again, that regret was settling in. You had gotten yourself into such a terrible position. Three (3) weeks. That was the minimum. But that wasn't your only problem, you'd have to gain the trust of the animatronic again.
How you were going to do that, you didn't know. You could do the obvious things. Do as they say. Be agreeable. Don't try anything. But there had to be other things you could do to get them to 'forgive' you. You just needed their trust. That was all you needed.
You weren't trustworthy though. You had already tried to run away, and ended up receiving the consequences of that. Your hands hadn't even begun to stop throbbing, a pulsating, icky soreness radiating from them.
It was evident that you weren't in control of your life. All it was was a constant reaction to stimuli. The main source of it now was the animatronic. They were the main threat. The secondary threat? You. You were your own problem.
Your thoughts continued to go on, but even you weren't paying attention to yourself. You were more intent on waiting for the animatronic to come back. You'd hear it before you saw it. You'd hear the ticking of its mechanical parts before anything else.
And that's just what happened. Its uneven ticking drew rapidly closer. And then, you saw it. It had a paper bowl in one hand and a water bottle in the other. It approached you, setting the bottle of water off to the side. It removed the gag single-handedly as it got down on its knees. "It's what-what Sun had originally-originally made-made you. Of course, it won't be as-as good-good now. But it-it should do-do."
"Thank you." Did its smile just grow wider? Maybe. Maybe not. The animatronic shifted the bowl to its other hand, revealing the spoon it had also been carrying. You did, however, nervously eye the bowl. You knew how this was going to go. You wouldn't be able to eat by yourself, you could barely touch anything with the damage sustained to your hands.
It must've seen your fidgety state, a chuckle escaping it. "What-What? Scared I'm going to-to make-make this a dreadful experience-experience?" Maybe you were. You had reason to be a little scared, did you not?
The animatronic idly stirred the soup-like substance. "What is it?" You asked, the dim lighting making it hard to see.
It finally got a spoonful, holding it up for you to see. "Chili." Did the animatronic say that word often? Probably not. The way it said the word sounded odd, especially with the way its voice deepened.
Chili wasn't bad though. You'd eat it. The animatronic then held it in front of your mouth, tempting you to take the bite. And, with much reluctance, it was successful in doing so.
It wasn't bad. Could've been better. But you did blame the subtle flavor on it being stale. It wasn't fresh, obviously. It wasn't at its best, so you couldn't rate it too harshly. Maybe a… six out of ten? That was good, wasn't it?
The animatronic was ready by the time you were, this process repeating until the bowl was empty. It looked oddly happy when you finally had the courage to look into its black eyes. You could tell it was staring at you. Creepy.
"Was-Was that really so-so bad-terrible?" Was it genuinely asking? Or was it being sarcastic?
"The food? Or the experience?" The experience? It was awkward. Especially with the animatronic's constant stare.
"Sunny wants-wants to know how-how much-much you liked-loved their cooking skills. I want-wish to know the-the experience-experience." Of course.
Would honesty be the best policy? Or would lying be better? Suppose being truthful would be better for you. You wouldn't have to keep tabs on what you did or didn't say.
"The food wasn't half bad." The animatronic leaned in closer, anticipating your other answer. "The experience is debatable." Its smile faltered. But it didn't prod any further.
"How-How about some water-water?" It picked the bottle of water from its spot on the floor, looking at you, as if waiting for your response.
"Please?" It turned the lid, the seal of the water cracking open. It then held the bottle of water up to your mouth, slowly tilting the bottle upwards so that the water didn't spill everywhere.
The water was soon gone, and surprisingly, it hadn't been that bad. The animatronic put the cap back on the bottle, laying it down on the floor. It then picked up the gag, holding it in its hand. It looked at you expectantly.
"Admit-Admittedly, our-our time is coming to a close-end. We've-have got to-to gag-gag you once-once again." Did that mean you'd be met with Sun? Probably. "We'll-Will be back-back when the daycare closes-closes." It assured, retying the gag in its place.
"Sunny will-will be-be the one to greet-talk to you later-later this evening-evening. I do advise-advise you-you to play nice." It snickered as it said this, but ended up shaking its head to stop itself from laughing. "Be-Be back soon-soon ." It then stood up, looking back at you to give you a final wave of goodbye. Once more the tether came down from the ceiling, and again, it was hooked to the ring loop on its back.
You couldn't help but feel stupid. The animatronic was upset with you. And you were soon to be bearing scars from your injuries. There was no way it wouldn't scar. The lacerations ran deep into your skin. Your skin had been heavily damaged, deep into the tissue and muscle of your hands.
It hurt. It hurt so much. But you could do nothing. You could do nothing but bite the bullet and wait. Your body would work at its own tempo, and you would have to let it do just that.
You could only hope it didn't get worse than it already was.
That was the only thing you had going for you.
Hope.
Chapter End Notes
Discord Link:
https/discord.gg/zA437hyq6N
The Arcade
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
To you, it was a game of stalling.
And to them?
To them, it was a game of manipulation.
You still hated the animatronic. Yes, of course you did. But it didn't mean you were free of it.
They still fiddled with you. As if you were an object. No matter what you did, or what you said, they had an advantage over you.
They would always have an advantage over you. They were bigger, stronger, and in control. It was really only a matter of time.
You could only stand so much before you picked a fight you couldn't win.
But for how long could you stand the meandering personality of the animatronic? How much longer until you gave up? How much longer until you got back to your real home?
It was unfortunate really.
You had been at the wrong place. At the wrong time.
And you were paying the price for it.
— — — — —
"What's that?" An orange and red striped candy wrapper, golden ends flaring out. A gold sun symbol was placed right in the center of the wrapping, looking slightly distorted.
"I'm not sure. I think they said it was a 'Sunnydrop?'" A daycare treat. Given by the one and only Daycare Attendant. Often given to those who visited The Daycare and talked with the mascot representing said candy.
Everyone knew it was really just a ball of liquid sugar.
Everyone except the kids that was. They were gullible. And, of course, a company like Fazbear Entertainment would take complete advantage of their feeble minds.
You couldn't help but feel bad for the parents who were forced to deal with their hyperactive kids, whether they were affected by the Sunnydrops or not.
But that wasn't your responsibility, was it?
— — — — —
"Sunny!" That excitement.
You wished you could share it. It would definitely make this experience a more enjoyable one.
But you were stuck with heavily wounded hands, unable to use them.
Even the day seemed long. Agonizingly slow.
But did you prefer it over the animatronic?
"Sun!" If only. If only things could be different.
It was funny how every child wanted the faz-tastic Daycare Attendant's eyes on them. To watch them. To shower them with compliments.
It was exactly what you didn't want. You wanted it away from you. You wanted it to leave you alone and let you live your life. But that wasn't the way things were, were they?
It was an empty dream. An alternative path that you could only fantasize about. It did nothing to change anything. Nothing at all.
Maybe it was the fear you could feel rising up in your throat. Maybe it was ever-growing tension. Or maybe… It was just you.
Maybe you were the problem.
You had inflicted the damage on your hands yourself. It was the consequences of your actions that had done this.
You were just paying the price.
Your fingers felt stiff, the lacerations running through your hands had really hindered your ability. And they had barely begun to heal. Each movement, each twitch or shift, felt like you were being stabbed by several needles.
Painful.
It made you scared to even try to move them. You didn't want to make things worse. You wanted to be able to heal as fast as possible, you wanted to get out of here as soon as you could.
But you were unsure how long it might take you to fully heal. It made you nervous. What if you never healed? What if you were forever scarred? The possibilities seemed endless.
You had never expected to be kidnapped by an animatronic. The things that could happen to you were beyond your predictions.
You would never have expected a thing made of bolts and scrap to 'love.'
Moreover, for you to be the victim.
You didn't understand why it had kidnapped you. Why it had to be you. But that wasn't the most worrying part.
It was more so 'how.'
How had they kidnapped you? What had they done to make such a thing possible?
You were beginning to drift away.
You didn't like that.
You were unaware of your surroundings. You weren't keeping tabs on the animatronic. And that was bad.
You couldn't have it sneaking up on you, slithering around behind your back.
But you didn't want to think about the animatronic. You didn't want to know what it might do. Especially Sun.
You were well aware that it might still be upset with you. You were also aware that it had a whiplash personality.
You didn't know whether you should be scared or not. You would never really know.
Why?
Because you didn't care enough to actually take in the feelings of the animatronic. It didn't necessarily care about yours, so, why should you pay attention to its own?
It seemed to be forever, but there was eventually an end to the day. The children were ever-so-slowly being picked up by their parents.
To you, it only meant that the animatronic was one step closer to being able to spend its night with its one and only. An opportunity it was most definitely antsy for.
There were so few kids left. And that probably meant that they were soon to be picked up as well.
Unfortunately, that meant the animatronic was soon to be with you again. Forced to be its little 'Toy' as its 'reward.' It was fantastic.
You felt the peak of your fear hit when the last child was given to their parent. "Thanks, Sun, you're a real lifesaver!" You had the split thought to attempt to rip your gag off your face and call out for help. But you instantly pushed the thought away. What if you weren't loud enough? What if the parent thought you were an actor? And what was to stop the animatronic from doing anything? It was too dangerous, for both you and the guardian of the child.
It was a bad move. The probabilities were too limitless. And not to think of the after-effect it might have. "No problem, Mrs. W-Wilson. It's always a pleasure to t-take of your child." A 'pleasure.' Yeah, you were absolutely sure it was. Though you weren't going to let the strained stutters go unnoticed. If only it didn't add to the extent of your fear.
You heard the main doors creak shut, followed by a split second of silence. But the soft jingle of bells was quick to fill that silence.
But it wasn't at all quick to get up to you.
Instead, it moved around The Daycare, its bells helping you locate how far or how close it really was.
And then. And then, finally, it made its way up to you. It landed on the balcony, stumbling forward into the room. It held a hand up to its faceplate, ghosting its fingers over its rays.
It looked in your direction for a brief second, straightening itself as it did so. You could do nothing but stare at it. Stare and wait. "Sorry-Sorry, Sweet Thing." It mumbled as it walked over to you. It knelt down, brushing its fingers against your jaw, using its other hand to remove the gag.
You didn't say anything, not immediately anyway. Was it still mad at you? The stutter hinted at so, but it didn't look like it was. "Are you upset with me?" You asked, your voice wavering under its unblinking stare.
"We're… Fine." Was it? Was it really? It didn't sound like it was. It was the stutter that gave away that it was clearly feeling something of negative emotion. So, if not mad at you, then what was it stressing about?
"Then why are you stuttering?" It seemed to wilt at that, looking away nervously as its rays began to spin around its faceplate. It looked at you skeptically, tilting its head upward.
Its pupils seemed to disappear as the light hit its eyes. Creepy. Finally, it seemed to relax, pulling your body into a hug. Your hands hanging at your side. Immobile. You wanted to say something, but you didn't, for fear of angering the animatronic stopped you.
One of its hands reached down to untie the ribbon on your ankles. But it kept you close, your head resting against its chest as it kept your body pressed against its own.
"Today-day was not so good-great." Funny. It was the one having a bad day. At least it had gotten to roam around, unlike you. At least it had free will to roam The Pizzaplex and do as it pleased. You were their little ragdoll. And yet, they were the ones having a bad day.
"And what made it so terrible?" And why were you engaging with the animatronic? That's right, you were attempting to make sure the animatronic didn't call you out on being unmannered and ignorant.
"The children-children were-were so picky-needy, so-so rude." Snarled the animatronic, its grip tightening for just a moment before relaxing once more. "It reminded-reminded us of-of you. But… But-But it-it wasn't you." Whined the animatronic as it repositioned itself so that you were between its legs. It created a 'cave-like' area with its body and legs.
"You think I'm annoying?" The words came out bitterly, the animatronic almost retaliating away from you as you said it.
"No! No! Not like that…" You could hear the regret in its voice. "You're-You're different, yes-yes." Different. Of course, you were different. All humans were different. That's what made people special, right?
"Whatever you say." It wasn't like you had a valid opinion anyway. You could really only go with what the animatronic said.
The animatronic seemed to curl over your own, shadowing your body with its own abnormal size. You weren't really sure what to do. You could embrace the animatronic, or endure it. Neither option seemed optimal to you.
So, you sat there, letting it cradle you. It didn't move, nor did it speak. The only movement was that of your breathing. You didn't know what to do, or what you could say.
You felt your body beginning to get stiff the longer you remained motionless.
You weren't sure how long it was holding you when an announcement played.
The same announcement as the day before, signifying that The Pizzaplex was now, officially closed.
It hissed, holding onto your body as it stood up, shifting you in its grasp. It settled on carrying you bridal style, its free hand taking hold of one of your arms. "Where are we going?" You asked nervously, allowing the animatronic to manhandle your limb.
It stepped up onto the balcony, the black hook lowering from the ceiling. It let go of your arm, hooking the tether to its back. "Food." It stepped toward the edge, looking over the edge. "We've-Have thought-wish about going to The Ar-Arcade for food-food." Explained the automaton.
It stepped off the edge, its grip on you instantly tightening as it felt you tense up. All you could do was lean against the animatronic, your instinctive thoughts were to latch onto the mechanism, but you couldn't. That would result in infinite pain.
You had to ignore the heights, you had to ignore that if the animatronic chose to, it could drop you. It whispered soft words of encouragement, attempting to ease your fear. But it was fruitless. If anything, it being aware that you were scared, was worse.
The animatronic made its way back to the floor of the daycare, unhooking the rope from its back. "You really-really should open-open up-up." Open up? Sorry? Did you miss something?
"What do you mean?" It looked down at you, rays stiffening up as it eyed you reproachfully.
"You-You don't t-talk about yourself-self." Complained Sun, opening the main entrance of The Daycare. "We want to-to hear-learn more about you." The tone in its voice was… Concerning, to say the least.
"What if I don't like talking about myself?" This drew a slight snarl from the animatronic, but it said nothing more. It began to ascend the stairs with you in its arm, taking two at a time.
The animatronic began walking toward the metal 'door,' murals of the animatronic, and its branded poster, painted on each half of the shafts. It set you down on your feet without warning, moving to open the large metal 'door.'
The animatronic opened the entryway, but instead of picking you up, it gestured for you to follow it. Through the darkened hallway, you could see the blue and green LEDs. Large murals were painted on one wall, a reminder that this was their domain. Posters scattered about, yet another reminder.
The animatronic took a slow pace, allowing you to get used to walking around. It walked over to a vending machine, a sunnydrop advertisement tapped onto the front of it. "Would-Would you like something-thing to drink, T-Toy?"
It only took a quick glance for you to realize that the available options were either carbonated or filled with sugar. If not both. "I'm good." The animatronic glanced questioningly in your direction but decided not to prod.
"C'mon." Mumbled the animatronic, turning away to head down the rest of the hallway. You were surprised the animatronic hadn't switched into its other, but you assumed the LEDs were preventing that very thing from happening.
It opened the red double doors, The Pizzaplex dimmed down to a soft tone. "Do-Do you prefer The Pizza-Pizzaplex with the lights on-on? Or with the lights off?" Did you? Or did you not? To you, the darkness of the area seemed empty, large, and… Isolated.
The animatronic held open the door for you, allowing you to step through before taking the lead.
No. No, you didn't prefer The Pizzaplex without the lights. It felt lonely, reminding you of the situation you were in. You hated that feeling. Maybe you weren't an extrovert, but being completely stripped from human interaction really was exhausting.
It was a sick reminder that no one could help you. No one was going to be able to help you. It was a depressing seed of worry, plaguing your mind. "The lights are better… On." This seemed to be its cue to look around, examining the darkened area of The Pizzaplex.
It pressed the button to request the elevator, the doors opening almost immediately. It looked at you expectantly. "After you- you." Oh. You nervously shuffled into the elevator, the animatronic following behind you.
It looked back over at you, and you stared back at it. "Do you wish-want to go to The Arcade for food-sustenance? Or does El Chips seem to fancy your taste-agreeability more?" The Arcade had lighter food. Plus, it still felt too soon to go back to El Chips. Especially with Sun.
You avoided looking guilty in the slightest. "The Arcade." You didn't feel that guilty, but you didn't want to make that feeling any worse. It might hinder you. It might allow the animatronic to guilt-trip you. Any control over you was hindering in your progress. Something you didn't want.
It pressed the button 3 times, the doors closing, the elevator's music beginning to start up. The automaton clasped its hands behind its back, rocking on its feet as it began to get antsy.
As the few seconds began to drag out, the two of you began to feel the tension. "It takes quite- quite a while, doesn't it- it?" Chuckled the animatronic nervously.
You didn't say anything. All it was, was a filler conversation, one that didn't need an answer. Specifically, your answer. "Un- Unfortunately, The DJ will not be in service- available for the next few weeks- weeks." Another filler. But it did catch your attention. The DJ had always been a nice animatronic, what was putting the spider-like machine out of order for the next few weeks?
Maybe you had hope in The DJ? Would it be able to help you get away from your love-struck kidnapper? That was dependent. Did it actually understand verbal communication? Would it be able to understand your need to escape?
You had never heard it talk, but again, maybe it couldn't. Its comprehension skills were another thing. Fantastic. Just what were you going to do? "Why is Music Man being put out?"
"Speakers were-were messed up." Right as the animatronic said this, the music stopped. And the doors opened. "Perfect t-timing." Snipped the animatronic, stepping out into the open area. It looked back at you, prompting you to follow it once more.
It made its way to the entryway of The Arcade, a previously unseen tension coming from the animatronic seemed to instantly dissipate. "And why does it take weeks?" You asked, following it into the large lit-up room.
"They have-have to make sure it-it works, and the-the only way they can do that-that is during the weekends-ends." Its voice had an undertone of disgust, crossing its arms as it did so. "They, the employees, also have to-to order new parts, and-and that takes quite a while. Installing them not-not included."
You noticed that the music was really quiet, which, yeah, sounded like a speaker had been blown out. The dancefloor was flashing different colors, preventing the animatronic from switching. It was an eyesore to you, your eyes struggling to adjust to the quick bursts of light.
"Perhaps one day we-we could… Perhaps-Perhaps dance when The DJ is fixed-repaired?" Dancing. Something you weren't inclined to do with the animatronic. Something you didn't want to do at all.
Eventually the animatronic led you to the second area of The Arcade. The 'Main Area,' filled with arcade games, food vendors, bar stalls, and more. "My hands are still messed up." You huffed irritably, the animatronic flashed you an apologetic smile.
"R-Right." You continued following the animatronic down the stairs, reaching the bottom of the large cylindrical area. "We-We can wait! We'll just have to hope-hope nothing happens before then." It was a threat. Most definitely. You couldn't help but shy away from it. For now, you couldn't do anything. And that made you helpless. Weak. And feeble.
"What would you-you like to eat-eat?" The animatronic turned toward you, hunching over to be eye-level with you. Right. That was why you were here. And yet, you were indecisive with your decision.
You shrugged. "I don't know." The animatronic let out an animated sigh. It slowly nodded, standing back up to its full height and leading you to one of the small 'restaurants.' That's if you could call it a restaurant anyway.
"Do-Do you want something-thing sweet? Flavorful?" What point of 'I don't know' did the animatronic not get? You didn't know. You were unsure of what you should pick. Nor what was available to you.
"I don't know." You repeated, the animatronic leading you through a 'Staff Only' door. Holding it open for you so that you didn't have to use your hands. Not like you could use them if you wanted to either.
"We'll… Attempt to make some-something you'll like." The animatronic's rays began to slowly spin around its head. Contemplating. It really was thinking about this. Wasn't it? "We-We're unaware-unsure of what you may prefer-prefer. But we'll learn-learn as we go."
It chuckled.
A possessive tone accompanied with.
"We'll learn."
Chapter End Notes
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If Only You Hadn't Tried
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The door closed behind you, breaking the silence. The animatronic's head snapped up, looking around as it clasped its hands behind its back. "Don't attempt-try anything that-that you'll regret-regret." Warned the animatronic, its pupils fixing on you.
You really didn't plan on messing up your chances any more than they had already been screwed over. You were in enough pain, and, even now, they still hurt. A lot.
And really, what were you going to do? Run? That was a stupid move. You were nowhere close to being in a position to be able to run. Not like you'd ever be able to outrun the animatronic anyway. That was whether you were injured or not.
"And you're-are absolutely sure that-that whatever I plan on making, you'll be fine-good with?" Really, how many times did it have to ask? You didn't care what it made, so long as it was edible.
"I'm positive." The animatronic only nodded, turning to walk into the kitchen area of the place. It looked around the area, casting a final glance at you before finally deciding what it should do.
It opened one of the cabinets, pulling out a large recipe book. It turned the object in its hand before setting it down on the countertop. It opened to the Table of Contents and looked through the different food options. You could tell it had made an official decision when its rays suddenly spiked out.
"We think I found something you might like-love!" Chirped the animatronic happily. The excitement instantly seemed to disappear once it made eye contact with your glare. "Right… I'll-I'll get on with it then-then." It chuckled nervously, moving around the kitchen to gather what it needed.
You noticed that it grabbed a container of cream cheese, which really made you question what the animatronic was making for you. But who were you to complain? You had made it absolutely clear that the animatronic had free reign over what you ate. Plus, you had to eat what it offered you. That was part of the 'deal,' which, to be fair, you had been forced to accept. Either that or you'd be suffering a world of pain.
Once the animatronic was done getting all the ingredients it needed, it began. But were you really paying attention to what it was making? No. It was hard to get yourself to care about what you might be eating soon. You'd find out soon enough when it was done.
However, the animatronic did not seem as content with this silence as you were. "Do… You like-like cooking?" A filler question, most definitely. But you weren't going to ignore it. Ignoring it meant it had more reason to talk down to you. And it had already done enough of that. Just a small conversation, that's all it would be.
"It can be interesting." Was that a direct answer to its question? No. But it seemed to be enough for the animatronic to leave you alone. Temporarily anyway.
At the same time, standing there didn't appeal to your taste. Staring blankly without focusing on anything eventually got boring. Especially when there wasn't anything to actively watch.
You leaned against the wall, opting to sit down on the floor. You had been sitting for most of your time with the animatronic, but standing just felt worse. It wasn't that it hurt, or that your legs were stiff. You just didn't seem to prefer it, not anymore.
The animatronic turned toward you, leaving its post to walk over to you. It crouched down in front of you, using one of its hands to help itself 'stay balanced.' You assumed it was only doing that just so it could appear to be more human-like than it really was.
"And what-what are we thinking about?" Prodded the automaton, its other hand pushed one of its rays back into its disk-shaped head before letting it pop back out.
"It's not 'we.'" Letting it in on your thoughts was essentially telling it that you loved it. Not that you did. You hated it, and you were waiting for it to grasp that simple concept. Maybe then, it'd let you go. Maybe. Just maybe.
You had little hope that it'd work. But you were desperate to put distance between you and the animatronic. You wouldn't be able to try anything that required physical strength. But, even while you were wounded, you would try somehow. "Maybe not-not but letting us in won't do-do much harm."
That was a lie. The very moment you spilled your thoughts, was the very instant that you accepted that you would never be able to leave. And that would never happen. You would always try. No matter how pathetic the attempt would be.
You didn't answer the animatronic, hoping that it'd eventually drop the conversation as a whole. Luckily, it did. It looked back at the stove before casting a final glance at you. "It's almost done-ready. Just you-you wait." Assured the animatronic, standing up to its full height. Evidently leaving you alone for the moment.
As much as you hated to admit it, you didn't have to wait very long. The animatronic reorganized everything, cleaning up the kitchen back to the way things were when the two of you had first entered.
Once it finished this task, it walked back over to you. Carrying a paper plate of… Whatever it had decided to make for you. It stared down at you before setting the plate on the counter.
"C'mon Toy, you don't de-deserve to eat on the-the floor." It hooked its hands underneath your arms, lifting you up as if you were a newborn puppy. It set you down on the smooth granite surface, more, or less, against your will.
It let out a little chuckle, but it quickly cut itself off. That didn't mean you hadn't heard it. In fact, that only made this worse. "What?" As you spoke, its pupils flicked over to you. Creepy.
"I finally get-get a chance!" It let out another laugh, one filled with giddy excitement. "All those other times have only been Moon-Moon, but now I finally get the opportunity." The overjoyed tone in its voice genuinely scared you. You couldn't tell if it was planning something, or if it was just absolutely thrilled it was finally getting a chance. Maybe it was because its previous opportunity had been stripped from it. Or maybe it was jealous of Moon.
The animatronic prepared your first bite, holding it up to your mouth. "Go on." It chitted as you hesitated. If it wasn't awkward before, it sure was now. Best to get it over with, right?
You gave in, 'rewarded' by the animatronic as it congratulated you. As if you hadn't eaten before. Though you would admit that the pasta-based 'dinner' wasn't all too bad.
Each bite was followed by the animatronic's praise, making this experience even more awkward than it already was. Eventually, you finished. But it definitely took longer than you would have wished.
"Not so bad-bad, was it?" You weren't sure you could answer that honestly. But it didn't seem to be looking for a response, instead going over to dispose of the plate.
"And… And what now?" The animatronic turned to you, tapping its faceplate as it thought. Without warning, it picked you up, carrying you bridal style.
"We... Need-Have to make sure your injuries don't get-get infected." Its smile seemed to lose that genuine appeal, if anything, it was starting to look forced. "We…" It stopped as it rethought what it was about to say.
"What?" Its silence was really starting to stress you. It had something to say, and just because it didn't want to tell you, only made it worse.
The animatronic turned its head slightly away from you, contemplating what it should say. And exactly how it was going to phrase it. "You're-are not going to like-love it." Great. You had figured that part out. "We're going-going to the employee shower rooms-rooms."
It took a moment for you to realize. But once you realized, you understood just exactly why it was so hesitant.
Your hands were fucked up; therefore, you couldn't necessarily clean yourself. And more so, your hands would take a long, long time to heal.
"We wish we could-can respect your privacy, but we'll have to push-bend a few boundaries. Whether we-you like it or not." It could just be saying that to reassure you. You never knew. Maybe the animatronic secretly wanted to invade such borders. Perhaps it was hiding such a desire behind a faux mask of concern.
But you wouldn't know. You could assume anything about anyone. "I don't want to." Of course, you didn't want to. Why would anyone? Why would you? After everything that's happened in the past few days with the animatronic, why would you want to? You hadn't even spent that long with the automaton, and you were already carrying scars.
"But we have to." Why did the animatronic sound distressed? Maybe it was because it knew you'd act like this. Maybe because it was scared of how you might act. To you, the thought was horrific. And you hated it. "Your hands-hands haven't healed-healed enough for you to do-do things on your own." You were aware of that fact. And it pointing that out only added to the feeling of dread.
You don't know what it was.
Or what made you do it.
But it was an action you instantly regretted.
You attempted to push away the animatronic, but all it ended up doing was hurt you more.
Your hand got caught on one of its rays with the action. Your skin was torn right back open as the sharp point was jabbed into the center incision on your palm. Your other hand wasn't free of consequence either, you had attempted to use it as your main point of leverage. Your hand was pressed flat against the animatronic's chest area. The friction between your skin and the animatronic's clothing had reopened your injuries.
Clearly, the animatronic hadn't predicted this reaction from you either. It had pulled you closer to its body, pinning your hand between your body and its own, your other hand left to hold onto its shoulder. Your face smashed into its chest, your nose taking most of the impact.
It took a moment for you to catch up. Your hand was still holding onto the animatronic's shoulder, staining its clothing with your blood. You weren't going to be successful in trying to get out of the animatronic's grasp.
You should've known.
You didn't even know why you had done it. It had been some kind of reflex that had propelled you into action. And now, you were suffering those consequences.
Again.
The silence drew out. Longer than you would've liked it.
"Are you alright-right?" Yeah, you were just dandy, weren't you?
Absolutely not. You had fucked up your hands even more, and, as a bonus, you got your face smashed. Really, when did it end? "I didn't mean to make things worse-worse." You almost felt bad for worrying the animatronic.
But not really.
"I'm fine." You snarked. Realizing that you had a bloody nose, you attempted to shift your body so that you were facing away from the animatronic. But that attempt was fruitless.
The animatronic took hold of your wrist, holding out the hand that had made contact with its ray. The animatronic examined your hand, and then its ray. "How about-about we start with stopping the bleeding?" It suggested, looking down at you. "We can worry-worry about what's to-to happen after-afterward." You didn't like its tone of voice, but its decision was final.
It quickly made its way out of The Arcade, and into the elevator. You were too busy focusing on your bloody nose, holding your forearm up to your nose as you resisted the urge to sniffle.
You weren't aware of where the animatronic went, but it didn't long for it to reach the 'Employee Only' areas. The only reason you were aware of this was because the atmosphere was completely different. Those dimmed yellow lights, gray ceilings, and the unwelcoming feel to it was just there.
The last time you had been here, it hadn't been so pleasant. The gore-filled imagery of your hands was what first came to mind. It was the reason behind a lot of things. Most of those things included pain and/or embarrassment. "Are we still going to the…" Right, what was it called again?
It didn't matter, the animatronic knew what you were talking about. "Yes. But only because I'm positive-absolutely sure the water system is sterile-clean." That made sense. A little bit. What was wrong with the other 'water systems?' Did they use different sources of water around the Pizzaplex? Sounded like a waste of money to you.
Your blood started to drop down your arm, but you weren't hit with terror. It was an odd feeling. To be in an odd sense of calm. You assumed it was the blood running down your face, clogging up your nose. A horrific feeling might you add.
The animatronic opened the door, sticking its hand into the dark for just a brief second. The light stuttering moments later. White and spacious, just as it was last time.
It walked over to the sinks, making sure to not brush against your bleeding hands as it set you down on the floor. The animatronic turned the sink on, keeping the tips of its fingers under the stream of water.
You stared down at your hands, the one that had gotten jabbed with the animatronic's ray was bleeding profusely. The other was somewhat bleeding, but you could tell that the lacerations had been pulled farther apart. It was like a mini valley between your split skin. Honestly, that comparison was kind of gross if you thought about it.
"Would you-Could you wash your hands off?" The animatronic reached for your wrists, guiding them underneath the water. The blood was quickly swept away, circling around the drain before being completely washed out. The animatronic watched this for a few more seconds before deciding on its next move.
"Stay here-here, we need to go get some things-things to help stop-stop the bleeding." Fantastic. It walked over to the door but stopped to peer back at you. "Don't do anything-thing you'll regret-regret later." A warning. But what were you going to do? Use your hands?
Absolutely not. Now was not an opportunity you wanted to take. Even if you were able to get past the door, where would you go? Clearly, you couldn't trust any of the vents, and all the exits had to have been closed off. It wasn't going to work.
All you really did was stand there and stare down at your hands. There wasn't much of anything else to look at. Maybe you could look at yourself in the mirror, but you preferred not to see just exactly how terrible you looked.
It didn't feel like long, but you were sure you had zoned out for most of the time. And eventually the animatronic returned, carrying a metal bowl filled with water, along with two (2) black towels. It set the towels off to the side, placing the bowl beside the sink.
You also happened to notice that it was still wearing the bloodstained shirt. It grabbed one of the towels, soaking it in the water of the bowl. Clearly, it had done something with the water, just what it had done exactly was a different story.
"Are you just going to wear that shirt?" Not that you had a problem with it wearing a shirt. You had a problem with your blood. Maybe from a technical view, it'd be beneficial. If someone noticed it, they might question the animatronic, and you might be found. But it felt weird knowing the animatronic was wearing your blood around like everything was normal.
It looked over at you, contemplating its answer. "Would you prefer we didn't wear-have one at all-all?" Yeah, that got you to physically move away from it. It let out a little snicker at your reaction. "I'll have to grab a spare-extra." It traced its claws along the stains. "Can always-always blame it on a kid or something-thing." It muttered, more or less to itself.
"What'd you do to the water?" It looked at you, picking up the now damp towel it had just wrung out.
"It's salt-saline water. A better alternative-decision than Hydrogen peroxide." It reached over to turn off the faucet, gesturing for your hands. As you held your hands out, it placed the warm, wet towel over your hands. It carefully wrapped your hands up, but no matter how careful, it still hurt. "We'll be right back. We suggest you apply pressure to stop the bleeding." Whether it was 'suggesting' or 'telling,' you were unsure.
But not bleeding out would be great. You pressed your hands together, ignoring the pain that flared up almost instantly. The animatronic left you alone once more. You assumed it was grabbing a change of clothing, for both itself and you.
Slowly, the time ticked closer to when… That embarrassing incident would take place. You didn't want to. But you had to. You knew you weren't getting out of this.
Well… You could always try to reopen your wounds, but really, how effective that would be? Plus, the solution was only temporary. It'd happen sooner or later. It was best to just get over it and trust the animatronic. Again, that was something you couldn't really do. 'Trust it.' The words felt like acid.
You would never trust it.
Not willingly anyway.
Your burning hate for the animatronic was starting to return.
You rubbed the blood off your face on the black towel. What was a little more going to do? You could feel that your nosebleed was beginning to stop leaking, silently thankful that it hadn't been anything too serious.
When the animatronic came back again, it was carrying exactly what you expected. A change of clothes for both of you. But a sly thought came to mind. "Are you even waterproof?" It set the garments beside the secondary towel.
It thought this through, looking over at you questioningly. "I know for a fact-fact that we are. The other animatronics, however-ever, I'm not too certain." Fantastic. You really weren't getting out of this. "May we see-see your hands?" It only drew closer. Both the animatronic and… That.
It carefully removed the towel, taking your hands into its own. It lightly ran the padded part of its finger over part of your laceration.
It hurt, yes, but it didn't break the skin.
"Don't you worry-worry. We won't do anything you don't want-allow us to do." Whispered the animatronic reassuringly. Letting go of your hands.
"You know exactly what I don't want, yet you're still going to do it." You were daring the animatronic to give a reasonable explanation.
But it didn't have one.
"You know we have to. It's-Is sanitary!" You only shook your head. "We can…" Its pause only quickened your beating heart. "We can go at your pace? If that makes you feel any better-better?" You hated the way it talked to you as if you were a child. A child that didn't understand words, only tone.
"We'll be careful, we'll…" Its silence wasn't helping in its attempt to convince you. It got on its knees, reclaiming your wrists to pull you closer to itself. "I won't do anything you don't allow me to, granted we-we get this done-over with before opening."
If you refused, would it use physical force as its last resort? You didn't want that at all.
Again, you just had to get this over with. That's all you had to do. Right?
"Just don't make it awkward."
It was embarrassing enough.
It was giving you an opportunity.
And you had to take it.
Chapter End Notes
Is the Discord Link getting annoying yet?
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Shower With An Automaton
Chapter Notes
I... Don't know how to feel about this one.
But you know what they say, the show must go on.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Why did this have to be happening to you? Maybe you weren't the best person on the planet, but this was just downright awful.
The animatronic's grin only had you on edge. This was bullshit. Embarrassingly painful.
It was eager, you could tell. It was the way it 'looked' at you, eyeing you up and down. It hadn't even done anything yet, and it was already fantasizing.
Gross.
It was just vulgar.
"That was-was easier than expected." So, it had been expecting your resistance. You would have argued with it. But you didn't. You knew that it wouldn't let you leave. Not without doing its own activity first. It would have forced you into doing it, whether you liked it or not.
It stalked off toward one of the shower stalls, reaching in with one of its arms to turn on the water. "Come here Thing, don't be so nervous-terrified." There was a difference between experiencing an emotion, and thinking about one. You were experiencing it. And you couldn't do anything to quench that stomach-turning feeling. It was just... There.
It disgusted you. It was horrendous how the animatronic expected you to act 'normally'. It was just more proof that the animatronic wasn't human. Inhuman. No matter how hard it tried to convince you, you would never be able to describe it as 'merciful' or 'compassionate.'
The animatronic was looking expectantly at you, its faceplate tilting curiously in your direction. You hesitantly walked up to it, glaring at the floor as you absolutely refused to make eye contact.
"We can go-go slowly if that makes you feel better?" You didn't know what would make you feel better. You were barely accepting what was about to happen now.
What was inevitable.
In your peripheral vision, you could see the animatronic getting on its knees. It was sad. Sad that you couldn't even attend to your own basic needs. That you needed the help of the animatronic. It was pathetic.
You were pathetic.
It didn't matter how the animatronic approached this situation. If it cared for how you felt, cared that it might be making you uncomfortable, it wouldn't be doing this to you.
But it was blatantly obvious that no matter what, it'd push you to do something you didn't want to do.
The animatronic had hours. It told you that it cared, that it wouldn't do anything you didn't want to.
But did it?
Did it really care?
Not enough apparently.
You didn't ask to be here. You never wanted this. But life isn't fair. It never was. And it would never be.
The animatronic lifted its fingers up to your shirt. Slow, deliberate movements. And yet, all you could do was stare at it hatefully. Your body locked up as it grazed the second-to-top button. Right. You had left the very last one undone.
"You're shaking." Really? It couldn't tell you something you didn't know? It began undoing the buttons, going slow, indulging in the moment. "Are you nervous? Cold? Perhaps both?" Small talk? At a time like this?
Wow. Just wow. The animatronic was delusional to think that you'd engage in conversation.
You wouldn't be surprised if the animatronic was crazy.
Insane.
Deranged.
Why? Because that's exactly what it was. It had kidnapped you after all.
But for what? Why?
What benefit did it get for kidnapping you?
If anything, you were a liability. Just a deadweight it was burdening itself with. It was risking itself just to keep you around. You weren't worth it. Not for another life. Not to keep around. You were just as unique as every other human. You really weren't anything special.
You gnawed at the inside of your cheek as the animatronic unbuttoned the last button. "How can I trust you?" This caused the animatronic to pause in what it was doing.
Goosebumps began to form along your sides, your flesh prickling at the touch of the cold air. The animatronic silently contemplated your words, slowly standing up from its position on the floor.
"You can't." At least it had the decency to sound upset. "We'll try our best to stay within reason. But-" But what? "-we won't always be able to have both of our ways." That was expected. It was sure to prioritize itself over you.
It was fully aware that you hated staying with it. That you wanted to go home. But it knew that the second you escaped it, it would be scrapped. It had kidnapped someone, and you were living evidence of that. It would be deemed faulty. And it knew that. It feared that. But it had chosen to kidnap you anyway. It had chosen to do this. And it knew it would face the consequences if it wasn't careful.
The animatronic moved behind you, snagging the end of your sleeve with two of its fingers. You tried your best to cover up your chest with your other arm, the animatronic watching your impulsive movements. "May we continue?" Awaiting. It was awaiting your permission.
Why did it care about consent now? It never did before. Touching, prodding, and poking you. And just now it decided that it would care? If it cared, it would've left you alone. If it cared, if it really, truly did, it'd let you go. But it didn't. It wanted you all to itself. It had ruined the future of your life just so it could improve its own.
Selfish. It was acting selfishly. Keeping you to itself. Taking you away from everyone you had once known. It wanted you to love it back. But you couldn't. You would never love it. You refused to let it infect you with its possessive love. You refused to fall victim to the animatronic. You refused to give it exactly what it wanted.
It traced a finger along your jaw, pulling your attention back to it.
You wanted to go back home. You wanted things to be 'normal' again. But that would never happen. You were soon to be carrying scars. A reminder of the animatronic.
A reminder that would last forever.
"I can't." You pulled away from it, backing up a few steps as you held your arm up against your stomach region. "I can't trust either of you two." It gave you a blank stare before clasping its hands behind its back, standing upright as it eyed you up and down.
"You don't… Have to trust us." It spoke slowly, clearly thinking through its words. "We wish you did, and perhaps someday, you will." You already knew that wasn't happening. Not ever. "But whether you trust us or not, this is happening." Of course, it was. You knew that. But you just couldn't stand its empty words. Empty. That's all they were. Manipulative words used to let it get closer. Words to pull you into a false sense of security.
"Would you please allow us?" It stepped toward you, causing you to instinctively tense up. Its innocent voice was thickly coated with sugar. It sounded so nice, so… Harmless. It cocked its head to the side, adding to its friendly facade. "The sooner you let us do what we need to, the sooner it'll be done and over with." Just an illusion. Just a liar in hiding.
"Stop." You could hear your own voice waver. Embarrassing. It was fucking embarrassing. "What are you doing?" Didn't feel right. Didn't feel like you were... Thinking properly
"Just let us in, Toy. Just make things easier for yourself. For us." Easier. That was its goal. That's what the honey-voiced automaton wanted.
But god damn it. You couldn't stand its purified voice, like it was the most delightful, innocent thing in the world. You knew the truth. You knew it was just a maniac trying to sweet-talk you into doing what it wanted. It was trying to manipulate you.
And it was working in its own cruel way. You wanted to give up on trying to resist, just so that it would stop being so freaky. So… Unnatural. You hated it. You hated the way it was acting. Unpredictable. It was acting unpredictably.
It reached out toward you, brushing a finger against your neck. "May we continue, Thing?" It took your collar between its fingers, tugging you closer to its body.
You didn't know what to say. What to do. Its fingers traced down to your sleeve, cold and unpleasant fingers brushing against your hand. "We can get this over with. So quickly, so easily. We just need your compliance." Your compliance. You didn't want to let it have its way. But what were you to do? What could you do?
No matter what you did, it would have its way. Whether you willingly accepted the harsh reality, or refused it. You glared at the floor, holding your arm out for the animatronic to manipulate. You despised yourself. You were just letting it do what it wanted. You were letting it win.
But you had to let it do as it wanted. It would be over quicker. Sooner. Arguing with it, resisting it, would only make it worse.
"Thank you." It began unfolding your sleeves, its fingers brushing against your ugly purple bruises. And all you could do was watch.
Watch as it so carefully took you apart. Its toy. Its ragdoll. Its 'Thing.'
It straightened your sleeve out once more. You knew what it wanted you to do. And you didn't have the will to fight back. You just wanted this to be over with.
You pulled your arm free of the sleeve, moving it to recover your chest. The animatronic silently gestured for your other arm. And what were you supposed to do other than obey the animatronic?
It took your arm with gentle hands, unraveling your sleeve with precise, calculated movements. You pulled your arm free of the fabric, bringing it up beside your other arm. You glared at it, content with watching its every move.
It folded the shirt, reaching past you to set it on the bench. "Should I continue?" It reached for you, tracing its thumb against your jaw. You didn't want it to 'continue.' You didn't want any of this. It was pretending to care. Pretending to be nice about it.
In its own way, it was threatening you. Threatening you with unspoken consequences. It was forcing this. If this was its idea of 'consent,' then you could only fear for the future.
This wasn't right. And you had an odd feeling of suspicion that the animatronic knew better as well.
"I don't want to." What was one more time? One more plead? Maybe you'd get lucky?
"Oh, Thing. We know. But we have to, and you can't blame us for something we have to do." Sweet-talking.
Its voice replicated the exact sweetness of Fun-Dip.
Pure sugar.
There was a difference between 'having to do something,' and 'preferring to do something.' Eventually, you'd have to. Yes. But it was pushing you into a corner. It was disregarding your feelings. That was what it had been doing this entire time.
You looked away from the animatronic, breaking eye contact with its expectant smile. It knew you couldn't fight back. It knew it was in control. It stepped toward you, putting its hands on your waist as it pulled you into its body. "Now. Again. May we continue?" Did you have a choice? No.
Your body tensed up as its thumbs prematurely slipped past your waistband. "Fine." Even if you didn't sound like a happy camper, it had been enough 'consent' for the animatronic.
Not that it really mattered. You weren't really accepting any of this. It pushed for an answer. Didn't let you think about it, didn't let you do anything on your own. No matter how stubborn you were, how stubborn you tried to be, it'd push those feelings aside. It'd force its own wants upon you, expecting you to follow through. Expecting you to agree and do as it said. As it asked. As it 'requested.'
It slowly, carefully removed the fabrics covering your lower half. The moment you could move, you twisted away from it. You preferred to not look at it, to not watch as it analyzed your uncovered body. "You act like we're atrocious. We're really only doing what's best for you." Was it? Was it really? Last time you checked, kidnapping someone wasn't on the list of 'what's best for you.' Not for you. Not for anyone.
"Why don't you get in? We'll join you in a moment." Anything to have its prying eyes off of you. Even if it was for just a second.
You used the back of your hand to push past the curtain, stepping into the shower stall. You turned your back to the water, keeping your eyes on the only thing dividing you from the animatronic.
Unable to see the shadow of the automaton, you focused on the sound of its bells. Soft jingles. Something you didn't normally pay attention to. Except maybe now. Now was a rare situation.
The water pounded into your back. Slightly warm. Water ran down your shoulders, seeping into the ugly wounds littering your skin. You kept the palms of your hands facing down, scared to expose the reopened abrasions to the water.
It always hurt at first. It was always painful. You knew that. But you'd have to eventually. You held your hands out in front of you, staring at the droplets that ran down your skin.
You turned to hold your hands under the stream of water, letting it run through your nasty cuts. A silent hiss of pain escaped you as your hands instantly began to sting. Excess blood was washed off, but it definitely wasn't worth it. Not for the amount of pain you were putting yourself through.
If only you hadn't tried to escape.
It had been flawed.
A mere accident.
And it was an accident you were paying for. The consequences of your actions. It was your fault for limiting yourself. You had been the one to touch the vent. You had been the one to ruin your own hands. All it was, was a reminder of just how delicate you were. So small. So fragile.
Just a toy for the animatronic. A 'Thing' to play with.
It was a pathetic attempt at a pet name. It made you feel useless. Made you feel like you were nothing important. Not to it. Not to anyone. It's because you were nothing important. It could take days, weeks, before someone noticed your absence.
And by that time, would you have any hope left? You would always try to escape the animatronic, but you only had so much 'hope' inside your little body.
You continued staring at your hands, feeling hopeless and pathetic. You'd have to wait and heal before you could try anything. If you didn't let them heal, it risked infection. It would be inflamed. It would hurt. It would take longer to heal. You were going to have to be careful. The animatronic was going to have to be careful.
To you, that seemed almost impossible. But it had promised. It had promised that'd it help you heal your hands. And… This was part of that.
God damn it.
You were so stupid.
This wouldn't be happening if you hadn't accepted its little proposition. But… At the same time, you had to.
They had screwed you over. You would be forced to eat when they asked you to, and, because you couldn't use your hands, they had to feed you. You couldn't believe it. You were just now realizing how much you had fucked up. And you had a feeling you couldn't go back on anything. The animatronic knew what it was doing. It had planned this.
You had fallen for it.
You barely noticed the animatronic shuffling around anymore. You were too busy with the self-hatred running through your mind. How could you have been so stupid? You had fucked yourself over, and in more ways than one. You had been careless, cutting your hands on a vent. A vent of all things. And, desperate for help, had accepted its stupid proposal.
An unexpected flash of yellow drew your attention away from your hands. Yellow fingers ghosting the edge of the curtain, the animatronic's silhouette visible through the thin fabric. "Coming in." It warned. Almost instantly you stepped away from it, pressing your spine against the wall. You pulled your hands to your chest, which still throbbed painfully from the exposure to the water.
It pulled aside the curtain, stepping into the enclosed area with you.
And, not that you were looking disrespectfully…
But you couldn't help but be grateful for the lack of human features it possessed. "C'mere Sweet Thing, we know you want this over with." It sat down beside the different bottles of products, gesturing for you to sit down in front of it.
But what were you to do? To say? It was right. You did want this over with. You wanted to get past the thick barrier of what was your reality. And to do that, you had to live through it.
Your stomach cramped up as you approached it, sitting down with your back toward it. "We'll start top to bottom." Warned the animatronic, running its fingers through your hair. Its touch was unexpectedly feather-light, massaging that familiar-scented shampoo into your scalp.
You could only stare shamefully at the water swirling around the drain. This was bullshit. This sucked. You had set yourself up for failure. You had ruined any near-future chances at escaping. You had done this to yourself.
The animatronic continued running its fingers through your hair, its movements were slow, tension-raising. You couldn't believe yourself. Why was this happening to you? Of all people, it had to be you. You had never met the animatronic before, but here you were, stuck with it. Forced to be with it. Forced to do as it said.
Did it really expect you to love it? To be with it forever? You could never. You would never. You refused to let it manipulate your mind, you refused to fall for its trickery.
But whether you refused or not, it wasn't in your control. You had given up on fighting the animatronic now, you were letting it do this. The animatronic's fingers against your skin had you hating yourself even more.
This wouldn't be happening had you decided to wait for the animatronic to return. It had warned you to not do anything stupid too. And you had ignored it. You should've listened to it. This wouldn't be happening had you decided to wait for a different opportunity.
The animatronic's fingers eventually left you alone, a relief to you. You could feel the animatronic's looming presence behind you, that it was examining you. You could feel its stare burning into your back, your bare skin.
You felt so ashamed, so embarrassed. Yet you could do nothing. You had nothing to ease your mind, your skin burning the longer the animatronic stared.
"Make sure you don't get it in your eyes." You didn't care if you were stuck with burning eyes. That was a minor problem. And why did the animatronic care? It's not like it affected it in any way.
Pretending to care. That's what it was doing. Or… Something like that. You couldn't be sure if it was trying to fill the silence, or if it was trying to get a response from you.
Maybe you liked the silence. It allowed you to think. Ensured that you wouldn't say anything stupid. It prevented you from angering the animatronic. Because as much as you hated the animatronic, you feared it.
It was scary. It could do anything it pleased, and you would be powerless to stop it. You were an object to it, an object it treasured. A thing it liked so much, something it wanted all to itself.
It was the source of all your problems. It was why you had fucked up hands. It was the reason you were feeling an extreme amount of embarrassment right now. You hated the animatronic. And you always would. No matter what it did, what it said, what it promised. No matter how much it claimed to love you, you would never believe it. You would never return its feelings. You would never love it.
It was a hate that bubbled in your blood and infected your mind. It had stripped you of everything you had. Human interaction. Your job. All the items you had collected throughout your childhood. Your dignity. And even your clothing. You had lost so much, and it hurt. You hated just how much it hurt. Just how much it made your stomach tense up.
The animatronic reached past your body, holding its hands under the stream of water. All the soap suds were quickly rinsed off its hands, following the water down the drain.
It settled a hand on your right shoulder, using its index finger to trace the bruises around your infected abrasion. You only sat there, ridged, letting it do as it pleased. "What are you doing?" It hurt. The animatronic's touching and prodding only aroused the numbed pain.
"Inspecting." A short answer. "We'll need to get something to treat the infection." Obviously. It was already nasty enough as it was. And the animatronic only had itself to blame.
"Could you stop touching it?" You hissed out as it testily touched the open wound. You weren't sure if it was examining, or prodding for a reaction. Either way, you wanted its hands off you.
The animatronic's fingers left your skin, but its eyes continued to inspect and take in the details. You didn't have to exactly look at it to know. "We could try some variant of Fusidic Acid. However, we are unsure if it'll work for an abrasion as large as yours." Ah, yes, medical terms. "Perhaps Aciclovir." You assumed that was another anti-infection antibiotic. "We'll have to test some things out."
Right.
And exactly how would it be getting these things? It had already commented on the Pizzaplex's lack of medical supplies, where would it be pulling these anti-bacterial solutions from?
It didn't matter. Not to you. That was the animatronic's problem to figure out. Maybe if you were feeling nice, you'd wish it luck. But you weren't. And you didn't necessarily care either.
You felt the animatronic shifting behind you, perhaps getting a better view. Perhaps getting closer. Perhaps backing away from you. "Could we wash out your hair?" 'We.' It made you sound helpless. As if you couldn't do anything by yourself.
...Not that you really could.
You repositioned yourself so that you were on your legs, allowing you to lean forward easier. You kept your eyes closed as the water ran through your hair, preferring to not be temporarily blinded.
You felt the animatronic's fingers run through your hair once more, making sure to get all the suds washed out. You didn't want to think about what this might've looked like. You knew it had to have been leaning over your body to achieve what it was doing now. Disgusting.
It was a thought, an image, that made you loathe yourself. Made you loathe the animatronic more.
But you couldn't do anything. Wait for the animatronic to finish. That's all you could do. Let it do its thing. When it finished this, it would have no reason to remain. It'd be over once it did everything it 'needed' to do.
And, eventually, it was done. Satisfied with its work. It leaned back, allowing you to sit back up. "We'll wash up your body, then we'll be done." Great. Now you had to endure the animatronic touching the rest of your body. You just loved that.
You could hear the animatronic shuffling around behind you, presumably lathering its hands with soap. You felt it hesitantly touch your back, using slow movements to ease you into a sense of security. Whether it actually cared if you felt comfortable or not was another question.
Get this over with. That's all you had to do. Just let it do whatever it wanted. All you had to do was endure. Endure through these tormenting actions. You could do that. Right?
Sure, it was a lot of self-control, but you could do that. As long as it didn't try anything, you'd be 'Ok.'
You hoped so anyway.
"Your skin is tantalizing." Sorry. Did you miss something? You glanced down at the hand that was currently making its way down your arm. Its hand was large, dwarfing your body.
"What?" Why did it have to make a comment like that? And just when you had begun to ease into a state of calmness too. You turned your head to look at it, to question it.
"It looks… Flavorful. Feels... soft." It snickered as it spoke, holding your arm in a tight grip. "-says you taste delightful too." It opened its mouth, ghosting the flesh of your arm. "Wanted a chance to taste too." Its eyes burned into you, expectantly waiting for your answer.
"Don't." You tried to pull away from it, but its hands kept you in place. You didn't need its saliva on your skin. You didn't need it touching you either. The real question was, would it respect your decision? It didn't do that often. This was just another example of that.
"Just a small nibble? A lick?" You were already covered in little pinprick marks, bruises, and lacerations. You didn't need a bite mark added to that collection.
No meant no. It didn't mean you'd think about it, it didn't mean that you'd reconsider. "Don't do it." You were bracing yourself for it to do it anyway.
But it didn't.
It drew its mouth away from your skin, instead continuing the task of washing your body. As if nothing had happened. It guided your arms away from your body, lathering your forearms with soap. However, it didn't touch your hands. In fact, it deliberately avoided rubbing the suds into the open, ragged cuts.
"Almost done." Its hand temporarily left your body, allowing you to catch a bit of a breather. It brushed the back of its fingers against your thigh, and slowly, it got more comfortable with touching you.
It made it quick, its fingers barely lingering. Whether it was as uncomfortable as you were, or it was done playing around with you, was undecided. Either way, you were glad to be free of its chilling touch.
"Not so bad." For it. Not so bad… For you, however, that was a different story. It was atrocious. Disgusting. The animatronic acted like you didn't have feelings. Like your opinion was invalid. "We'll let you do the rest." So, it was giving you some time 'alone.' It would still be nearby, but you wouldn't be picked apart by its preying eyes. Would have its hands off you, would leave you alone.
The animatronic stood up, washing its hands off once more before leaving you alone. Its shadow was visible for only a few seconds before it disappeared. You assumed it was going to put on its spare articles of clothing, the ones that weren't covered in your blood.
You only stared at the water, watching as it was put to waste. You moved your body so that your back was being hit by the water, your frontside facing the shower curtain. You shivered as the water began to get slightly colder, prompting you to rinse yourself off quicker.
But you didn't have the willpower to stand up. Sitting there suited you just fine. Well, it would have had the water been warmer. Now it was just cold. Cold and unbearable. Cold and… Unwelcoming.
Soon, the silhouette of the animatronic was visible, familiar now that it was wearing its typical clothing. It was waiting for you. Waiting to tend to you once you were ready. But a question returned to your mind. A question that you wanted an answer to. "Why did they make you waterproof?" Something to fill the silence.
"They wanted to make maintenance easier. They already have to clean up four other animatronics. It's not necessarily an easy task, considering they need special cleaners and rags to preserve their metal exterior." So, the animatronic were just an extra no one wanted to clean. Fun.
But the animatronic wasn't done talking. For better, or for worse. "Children are messy things. So, by making us waterproof, it allows us to clean ourselves." Fantastic. Guess you could blame the people who made the animatronic immune to the degrading effects. Was it not waterproof, you wouldn't be enduring this. Wouldn't be experiencing this.
"What'd they do to make you… water immune?" Now you were scrambling for conversation, hoping it would take your mind off the freezing cold water. Goosebumps riddled your body, your limbs quivering uncontrollably.
"They put a layer of silicone on top of our metal exterior. We do have to get it reapplied every month or so, but it saves the employees a lot of time." It sounded so happy about this. As if it was unaware of the fact that it was just an animatronic no one cared about.
It wasn't a show animatronic.
It was, in fact, an animatronic made for taking care of kids. It was in charge of doing a chore no one else wanted to do. And, in its own way, was sad. Maybe you would have had a little bit of pity for it had it not kidnapped you. Why should you care? It didn't give you any pity. Why should you give it any?
"What about your wires?" You were looking for some kind of weakness. Something you might be able to do to fight back. You had seen the exposed wires at the back of its faceplate, but it never gave you a chance to examine them. That was with good reason too. If given the chance, you'd rip them out in a heartbeat. No questions asked. Nothing in return.
"You're quite the curious one!" Curious. Right. That was the right word for it. Definitely. Was that enough sarcasm? Or should you keep going? "They use silicone tubing for my wires." Great. Water damage wasn't going to be an effective option for you.
If only the employees were just a little more excited to rub down their automatons.
By now the water was ice cold. You were huddling on the tiled floor to preserve your body heat, but you had a feeling it would only get colder. Your teeth were chattering, your body struggling to maintain its body heat.
The longer you waited, the colder it got. The colder it got, the harder it would be to stand up and turn off the water. You stood up, your arms pressed into your abdomen.
You used your elbow to maneuver the valve. It wasn't any better.
You were still shivering, droplets rolling down and off your body. Cold. You were so cold. You could feel those odd little bumps running up your arms, legs, and back. The feeling was horrible.
You grit your teeth together, giving up on attempting to enjoy the time 'alone.' You were tempted to lie on the floor, but the animatronic was waiting for you.
"May we come in?" It didn't matter how you replied. Why would it care? It didn't care whether you were comfortable with it taking off your clothes, it had done it anyway. You had expressed obvious discomfort, and it had still continued. It said it would be considerate, but it hadn't been.
A ruse to get you to accept. You shouldn't have let it do anything. But you had. You had let it scare you with its sickeningly sweet words. You had let it make empty promises that it wouldn't keep.
"It doesn't matter. You'll do it anyway." This got the animatronic cackling. It knew you were right. It knew what it had been doing. It pulled aside the curtain, still laughing like a maniac. It wrapped a black towel around your body as it regained its composition.
"You know us so well Thing." Its words were threatening, meant to put you in a state of unease. "You learn so quickly. And soon, you'll learn to understand that you aren't going anywhere." Its smile was a toothy one. One that was designed to intimidate.
It folded the lip of the towel over itself, allowing it to remove its hands from your body. Not that it was being considerate. It stalked over to the bench, picking up a bundle of clothing. Right. Just as it had taken off your clothing, it was also going to have to put it back on.
"We may be absolutely dreadful, but we've been trying. We really have." Was that supposed to make you feel bad for it? Because guess what? It didn't. It might've been 'trying,' but it definitely wasn't doing a good job at it.
You had various pieces of evidence scattered across your body that proved your point. And really, if it cared, it would respect your boundaries. But clearly, it didn't. It had undressed you, it had handfed you, it had tongue-kissed you, touched you, salivated on you, and more.
How long? How long until it started taking your pet name into literal terms? How long until you were treated like a literal toy? Like a thing used for empty entertainment?
It was touchy enough, already testing your limits. Trying. Yeah. You were sure it was. "Loosen up. You're going to get a migraine by stressing yourself out." A migraine. You'd prefer one of those over whatever this promise of 'love' was. "Your body is already stressed enough, it's best not to make things worse." And whose fault was it that you were covered in various injuries?
Not even ten (10) minutes ago it had asked to bite you. It would've added to the pain. Would've made things worse. And yet, it was trying to make it sound like it was your fault. It was trying to guilt you into obeying, into being the perfect little object to meddle around with.
Its toy.
Its plaything.
"We've got you fresh clothing, still a staff uniform though." You didn't care about the clothing. You cared about what the animatronic might do. What it wanted to do. Because you weren't going to be able to stop it. It could do whatever it wanted, and you'd powerless against it.
"Come here, let's finish what has been started." It held out its hands, gesturing for you to approach it. You stared at it, it staring back, before you finally gave in. You couldn't bring yourself to bite back. It would only draw out this experience. It would only make everything worse. Worse than it already was.
Once you were close enough, it snagged the towel, wiping off some of the droplets that remained. Once satisfied, it set the towel aside, reaching for the fresh clothing it had gotten for you. It held out a pair of pants for you to step into, it having to kneel down to achieve the feat.
All you could do was get it over with. Instead of staring, waiting, or thinking it over. You allowed it to readjust the waistband as it pleased, unable to do anything about it anyway. It didn't try anything, putting your mind in a hesitant state of 'ease.' A troubled state at that. One plagued with uncertainty.
It picked up the shirt next, straightening the sleeves before holding it out for you. You looked at it for a few moments before carefully sticking an arm into the fabric, being careful not to brush your hand against the fabric.
It stood up, maneuvering behind you to make sure the shirt went around you properly. It brushed its fingers against the side of your bare arm once it was ready for you to put on the other sleeve.
From behind you, it reached down toward the bottom button of the uniform. This caused you to let your arms settle at your sides, letting the animatronic do as it wished. However, when it got to the very last button, it hesitated. "Would you like us to leave this one unbuttoned?" Oh. So, it cared enough to ask.
"Please?" It didn't seem opposed to this, instead, collecting the towel and walking over to the counter of the bathroom. You trailed after it, watching as it picked up the other bloody towel, metal bowl, and discarded clothes.
"We'll be back real quick. Wait here." Leaving you alone. Again. Didn't it know what happened last time?
It walked over to the door, casting you a final glance before exiting.
Clearly, it was aware. It knew. It knew too much. It knew you wouldn't try anything. That you wouldn't try anything stupid. Not again.
Just because you wouldn't try anything, didn't mean you wouldn't be planning. That you'd let it win you over. You would never accept that you were its thing of entertainment. You just… Couldn't do anything. Not yet anyway.
You'd find something.
Eventually.
You just needed to find out exactly what it was that you could do against it. Something that wouldn't screw you over. Just something. Whatever that 'something' was.
It knew you wouldn't try anything. Not this time. It would be a waste to try. Just another failure that would hinder you more. A waste of an attempt. A waste of your energy.
And so, you waited. Standing there, looking at yourself in the mirror. You were a pathetic, soggy, sight to behold. Like a wet dog, waiting to know what was going to happen next. Waiting. Obeying. It was all you could do.
It didn't take long. But eventually, you heard those soft bells. It had been right. It had been quick. And you weren't sure if you liked its eagerness to return.
It opened the door, instantly locking its eyes on you. "You look exhausted Thing." Exhausted? Or fed up? You were just barely able to tolerate the animatronic, forced to do as it wanted. Forced to endure.
It reached for you, picking you up, and holding you to its chest. You shied away from its cold exterior, involuntarily shivering. "S'pose I can let Moon out earlier than planned." You didn't care what it decided. But… You did wonder why it spoke of its other as if it were a caged animal.
You said nothing, your opinion didn't matter to the animatronic. It would do what it wanted to anyway. It slowly began making its way back to the daycare. Slowly sauntering toward the staircase at the end of the tunnel-like area.
And maybe. Maybe, you were a little bit tired. The dim lighting definitely made it easier for you to close your eyes. It allowed you to relax. The animatronic's fingers brushing against your skin, however, brought you back from that 'relaxed' state. Whether against your cheek, or your hands, it was annoying. It was deliberately touching you. Either trying to keep you awake or trying to soothe you.
Before you knew it, the animatronic was walking down the main entry hall. The faint lights must have prevented it from turning, but it must've been just barely holding on. It wasn't much of a difference from the LEDs in its room. It definitely had something to do with whichever was in control, some kind of… Turning point you assumed.
The animatronic ducked underneath the shafted doorway, turning around to close them with a single press of a green button, shaped into the outline of Freddy Fazbear.
It was another hindrance to getting out of here. Out of this place. Another reason you had to wait. Another reason why you had to be cautious and avoid making idiotic mistakes.
The animatronic started down the stairs, quickly reaching the button. It opened up one of the castle-themed doors, the bright colors and light of the play area had you turning away.
Tired. Tired of dealing with the animatronic. Tired of listening to it. Tired of it touching you. You were tired. Tired of caring. It made you burn with hate for each thing it did, but clearly, arguing with it didn't solve anything. It really only made things worse.
You felt the animatronic shift you in its hold as it hooked itself up. And then, the two of you were suspended midair. You hated the feeling. Hated its touch.
Your stomach still ate at you as the unusual feeling come over you. But not thinking about it definitely helped. Made it… Not as bad. The animatronic was quick, ducking into its messy, unkempt room.
It walked over to the light switch, hesitating for just a moment. A split second. Once that switch was flipped, the lights went out. Slowly, the colors were stripped from your vision.
The blue LEDs were the only things allowing you to make out the objects around. But the colors were tainted with the soft hue, hard to recognize.
The animatronic's grip on you tightened, not so gentle now that it was in the process of handing over its control to another. You could only hope that it didn't pulverize your body with its claws.
But you weren't in control of that.
You were never in control.
That ticking began to start up, its rays retracting, being replaced with that familiar night hat. You could see the pain written on its face; its mouth turned in a snarl. But it seemed to be frozen in place. That was until it let out something of a guttural sound. Something you could only describe as it 'gagging.'
It starked into motion, instantly hunching over into its signature pose. "Sorry." Apologizing. But why? For what?
"Why are you apologizing?" Either you had missed something, or… Or what? It stared down at you, but didn't answer your question. Whether it chose not to, or was formulating an answer, you didn't know.
"Sunshine-shine said you were tired-drowsy. Do you want-want a-a Moondrop to help-aid you with your-your fatigue?" More drugs, great! You could really do with more of those!
Not really.
"I don't need one." You huffed, holding back a bitchy retort. The animatronic only let out a soft chuckle, though it didn't sound as… Grueling this time. Perhaps even genuine, for once.
"You r-really are fussy tonight-night." The animatronic turned to sit down with its back against wall.
It was talking to you like you were a child having a late-night tantrum.
The animatronic moved to cradle you in its arms, its soft clothing cushioning your body. "Why-Why don't you re-relax? Sleep is the-the body's best-best remedy."
An opportunity to be left alone. You hated the animatronic, you hated everything it did. But its promise of the dreamworld was too great to resist.
You began to let the desperate exhaustion that had been clawing at your body, claim you.
Sleeping.
A place where you didn't have the animatronic constantly hovering over you. Didn't have it constantly touching and annoying you.
Sleeping.
A blessing in disguise.
Chapter End Notes
That was... Oddly fun to write.
Remember, consent is very important. Don't do anything that someone hasn't consented/agreed to. It's awful.
Discord Link: (Available to those wanting announcements, social interaction, polls, etc.)
https/discord.gg/zA437hyq6N
They Ruined It All
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
You had fallen asleep. And on the animatronic too. Embarrassing really.
You didn't say anything. Didn't do anything. Your brain was disorientated, struggling to catch up with the rest of the world.
The animatronic was still holding you, but it was no longer sitting up. In fact, you were lying on top of it. You couldn't be sure if it had been trying to make you more comfortable, or if… If what?
It was a surprise the animatronic had even been able to move around without waking you up. Especially when you hadn't been forced into the dream world with one of its candies.
The animatronic had its arms draped around your middle, keeping you in place. If you moved, talked, or did anything, it'd be aware that you were awake.
You didn't like the animatronic, and not enough to willingly let it hold you. Not like this. But if it meant that it wouldn't ask you questions, or pay you any attention, then it might just be worth it.
Maybe.
Your body was stiff, and the more you became aware of your surroundings, the worse it became. The more you thought about it, the more noticeable it became. The more it felt like you had to do something about it.
You felt tired. You had yet to get used to this odd schedule the animatronic had created for you. Speaking of which, what time was it? You knew that the daycare opened eventually. If you could recall correctly, sometime at eight (8) am. Maybe sooner. Maybe later. You wouldn't know.
But why would knowing what time it was, matter to you? You hadn't been aware of the time since you first woke up here. Sure, you recalled something about Tuesday and… El Chips was it? You weren't really certain.
But it barely mattered. What really mattered, was getting out. By then, you could care about the other things in life. What you needed to worry about now, was your life.
The animatronic moved. It resecured its hold on your body, balling up the fabric of your shirt in its hands.
This seemed to be the moment when your brain finally came to its senses. Off. You wanted to get off of it. You wanted it away from you. It was cuddling you, and it made you feel… Something. It made you feel something. Whatever that 'something' was, you didn't like it.
You tried to squirm in its grasp, trying to get it to let go of you. But that backfired almost immediately. Its hold on you tightened, hugging you closer to its body. "Let go of me." You hissed, glaring at the animatronic as best you could.
But it didn't seem to care for what you wanted. It didn't care, so long as it had you to itself. You could see the smirk forming on its face, which only pissed you off even more. "I see-see no bene-benefit to-to let-letting you go-go."
Maybe a better mentality? A happier mood? The animatronic didn't care about those factors. It hadn't cared before, now would be no exception. It definitely liked your absent answer, a drawn chuckle escaping it.
It turned on its side, taking you with it. You tried to turn away from it, but it ended up spooning you instead. It pinned you against its body, preventing you from moving around. That included pushing it away. Not that you really could anyway.
"Thing." So, it wanted to make small talk. Great. "Do-Do you-you feel better-happier?" Feel better? Were you ever feeling 'bad' in the first place? Or had that just been the animatronic's self-diagnosis on you? "More sleep-eep perhaps-maybe?" Neither didn't appeal to your taste.
You had just woken up from sleeping, and anything else required the animatronic's help. You didn't want its help. You didn't want it. What you wanted, was a way out. An opportunity to leave.
You had been a moron and missed that first chance, instead hindering your abilities. Clearly, you had only screwed yourself over with the attempt. And you were really starting to regret it. It allowed the animatronic to do so much to you. It allowed it to get away with so many things.
You just wanted to go back to sleep, where it wouldn't bother you. Where it would actually leave you alone. "I just feel tired." Sort of. Anything to get the animatronic to stop talking to you. Anything to be allowed to ignore it.
However, the unexpected response, was it withdrawing away from you. You expected it to continue cuddling you, or perhaps even reposition the both of you into a different orientation.
You looked over your shoulder at the animatronic, confused by its actions. It had already pushed itself into a standing position, walking over to a cabinet and rummaging through the drawers.
When it turned back toward you, it was holding a blue wrapper in its hand. A small moon emblem was printed on the center of the wrapper, giving it its signature look.
This was your second encounter with the item. And last time, it had resulted in you waking up early. Maybe, if you woke up early again, you could try to do something.
Last time, you had waited. Instead of waiting, you could look around. Who knew what the animatronic stored around its room? There had to be something that could help you.
Something.
Just one thing.
The animatronic unwrapped the candy, holding it between two of its fingers. "I'll-Will be back-return when we-I put-get all the little-fragile kid-kiddies to sleep-sleep." It knelt down beside you, holding the candy up to your mouth, prompting you to take it.
Not that you wanted to take it. But you did. You knew there wasn't another option. You'd be forced to take it, you were sure. And if not forced, there would be some sort of alternative. Whatever that alternative was, you were sure would be worse than taking the pill.
"They're-Are exception-exceptionally good-great at putting you-you to-to sleep, you should-should be grateful-thankful for them-them." The animatronic was peering down at you, a lazy, lopsided smile hovering over you.
"Them?"
"The Moon-Moondrop."
————————————
"Have you heard? They're planning to decommission another animatronic."
It was the talk of the Pizzaplex. Every time an animatronic passed by, every time a show was announced. Everyone would wonder, everyone would guess. But no one would know until it finally happened. Or until the corporation said something.
"Who do you think they're getting rid of?"
Scrap, replace, repeat. It was how the company kept everyone on their toes. New sights to see, more reasons to return. And the more people that returned, the more money they got.
"Hate to say it, but probably the theater animatronic. It's great for entertaining kids, sure, but it just feels more like an add-on no one asked for."
And if that animatronic was put out, it'd be a whole section of the Pizzaplex out of use. You assumed they'd replace it with something else, something better. Whatever that 'better' was.
"They better figure it out soon, before the conspiracies start forming."
Not that you necessarily cared about the reputation the place got.
————————————
A headache. That's what woke you up. It felt like someone was repeatedly bashing your head into a wall. But that's not what was happening. You were completely motionless. Lying against the animatronic and its plush clothing.
The animatronic.
You were propped up against its side, its arm draped over your body. Now, you knew the animatronic had done this purposely. But you weren't worried about it. Not yet anyway. You had more important things to think about.
That was if you could even think straight. You were overly tired, and your thoughts kept getting interrupted by the sharp pain radiating through your skull. Not to mention, you just felt… Overall terrible.
The restraints, nor was the gag helping. Your mouth was dry, saliva barely able to do its job. You assumed it was the middle of the day. It had said it would be back when it put the children to sleep. The real question was, were you 'back?' It could be later than had been planned. It could also be earlier.
It didn't appear that the animatronic had taken notice of you, it was, in fact, talking to itself. It was mumbling its words, talking to, you assumed, Sun. But each time you tried to listen in, you were hit with a fresh wave of dizziness.
The animatronic was staring down at a wrinkled piece of paper, whispering to itself. Discussing something. What it was discussing, was unknown to you. You could barely focus on the paper, your body making it as annoying as possible to discern anything properly.
You weren't sure when it stopped talking, or when it finally decided to give you any attention. But the act of it balling up the paper had you recollecting your last few brain cells.
You drew your eyes to look at the face of the animatronic, but it gave nothing away. It wore its signature smile, displaying its uncanny white teeth. You could only wonder what it had been talking about, what it had been doing.
"I know-know you're up-up, Toy-Thing." So it knew. Great. That wasn't much of a surprise though, you weren't exactly trying to hide it. And if you feigned sleep too long, it'd catch on. That was not the desired outcome. Better to get it over with, right? It was inevitable that you'd have to talk to the animatronic again, as long as you were here, it was ensured.
But there was something off. Something was off with you. With it. You felt absolutely terrible, and the animatronic was conversing. Conversing with its other, talking about something. But what was that 'something?' And did it impact you in any way?
The animatronic tossed the paper off to the side, moving to undo your gag. It was… Somewhat of a relief to have the gag off of you. You ran your tongue across your dry lips. Uncomfortable.
Uncomfortable and painful.
"Are…" It hurt to talk. Your throat was absolutely raw. You let the words die in your throat, it wasn't worth it to use your voice. Not right now. Not for a while.
"Go-Go on." You shouldn't have spoken. The animatronic was going to prod you to say… Whatever you were going to say. Just a few words, right? That's all it was.
It wasn't worth enraging the animatronic to keep your silence. "What's going on?" Going on with you. Going on with it. Your body was struggling. Struggling with something. That something, however, was unknown to you.
The animatronic didn't answer immediately. If anything, its smile only grew more unnerving. "That's-That's not what-what you were-were originally-primarily going to ask-ask." It was right. It wasn't.
It really felt like the animatronic wanted to strain your voice. It was painful really. "Are you alright?" You could feel the beginning of a sore throat stir up, soon to get worse if the animatronic kept prodding you to talk.
You weren't asking because you cared. You were asking to prepare. To prepare how the animatronic might act toward you. If you should be wary of what to say and do.
"We're fine-great." Didn't sound like it. It was clearly irritated with something. "J-Just… Fantastic." Mhmm. You believed that. Definitely.
You weren't going to point anything out. You'd let it say what it wanted to. But you knew that what it said, was not the truth. It really didn't take a genius to figure that out.
You chose not to say anything more, and it seemed to agree with that decision. It sat there, allowing the silence to draw out. You let it ponder, you let it wrap its arm around you. Anything to prevent it from hurting you. Anything to keep it from doting on you.
Or so you thought. Nothing would keep it from leaving you alone for five (5) minutes. "Are you-you hun-hungry?" You couldn't be entirely sure yourself. But you had a feeling that no matter what you replied with, it'd course you into doing it anyway. Whether you truly weren't hungry, or not.
"I don't know." You really didn't. And it really didn't matter. Whatever the animatronic decided, it'd do. It had shown that no matter what you did to express your discomfort, it'd do what it wanted anyway.
This seemed to be enough for the animatronic. It withdrew away from you, standing up to look around. "How-Is about-about you try-attempt? We suspect-guess that you-you won't-not be able to-to eat-sustain for a-another twelve-twelve hours." And what time was it now? There was really no point in giving time estimates if you couldn't keep track. But that was a long while from now. So when did the animatronic give you the last Moondrop? And when was the last time you had eaten? It had been with Sun, yes, but when?
Your sense of time had been warped. Completely ruined. And the animatronic acted like you'd know the time at all times. Sucks. It was quite unfortunate that you couldn't have an internal clock. It wasn't your fault that such a thing didn't exist.
You didn't say anything, only watching as it wavered on… Something. "We'll-Will start with something-thing light-light." It decided, picking up the shirt that it had set aside. Oh. So it was going to gag you back up? Great. You should've seen that coming honestly. "We'll have-require to gag-gag you-you, b-but I won't be-be long-long." It did a shushing motion once it had finished tying the gag in place, backing away toward the balcony.
It didn't waste any time in 'Won't be long.' The only sign that it still existed was its ticking. That was until it died down, leaving you to dwell in the silent atmosphere.
You let your head hang, waiting for the animatronic to return. You couldn't do anything. It had decided to tie your forearms behind your back, worsening the bruises. It was the only comfortable position that didn't strain your arms.
It was back to waiting. With waiting, came boredom. Boredom, loneliness, and pain. Forced to dwell on the increasingly horrible state of your body. Forced to feel lonely. No one to talk to. No one to socialize with. And nothing to do. Nothing to occupy your brain.
But that loneliness… You hated it. It made part of you want the animatronic to return. To talk to you. And just moments before, you wanted to push it away. You had wanted it to leave you alone. And, temporarily, it had.
So why did you feel so desperate? Why were you willing to forgive it, if it came back? You knew the feeling was temporary, you'd go back to loathing the animatronic once it returned. But why now?
Why were willing to accept what had happened to you? Why were you willing to do anything to have it interact with you? It treated you terribly, and now you were yearning for the animatronic. Yearning to fill that gap of loneliness.
No. You wouldn't forgive the animatronic. You would never. Not for what it did. But letting it get closer was the equivalent of 'forgiving it.' Neither. Neither were options you'd take.
But… But you just felt bad. Why did you feel bad? What was wrong with you?
Why were you willing to forgive the animatronic all because of some sensation of loneliness? Why was it affecting you so much? This was the only time the animatronic didn't interact with you, this was the only time it couldn't toy around with you.
The feeling made you sick.
It was repulsive.
And you absolutely despised yourself for feeling so… So desperate.
————————————
"You said you have problems sleeping, right?" Your cousin, flashing you a smug grin. For what they were looking so smug for, was beyond your understanding.
"Yeah?" And why would they care? It was your problem, not theirs.
"They're issuing a new candy. It's supposed to help you sleep." Interesting. It was probably just a rip-off brand of melatonin. Something the company could easily make money off of without having to put intricate thought into it.
"What's the catch?"
"They haven't been perfected yet." Right. So why were they telling you this? Filling you with false excitement. "But get this, they let me have a sample…"
"And?"
"I thought I'd let you test it out. They're trying to sell these things to people like you!" And why would you want to try it? What if they were laced? Or had some serious side effects?
"I think I'll be good. I already have doctor- prescribed melatonin." You wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't some kind of addiction-added ingredient. Something to make you want more.
"Are you sure? These precious things might go to waste."
You didn't care. But… You agreed. You agreed because you didn't want your cousin to feel bad. You agreed because… You just did.
————————————
When it came back, it carried two (2) bags of trail mix and a bottle of water. Maybe not what you were expecting, but you couldn't be one to argue back. You hadn't cared before, now was no exception.
That underlying hate returned. But your loneliness didn't dissipate. If anything, it only got worse. The animatronic was no human. The two of you were not equals. You knew you were the lesser between the animatronic and yourself, but that didn't mean you'd respect it. That didn't mean you'd let it have its way. Not without a fight that was.
The animatronic got down on its knees, setting the items down beside itself. It reached for the gag, pulling it off your face in a quick movement. It tossed the fabric aside, moving to tear into one of the two bags. "If you-you don't-not want to-to eat-eat, j-just say so-so." Surprising. It was going to allow you to reject its attempts to hand-feed you?
You didn't say anything, only watching as it poured a small handful into its palm. It set the bag off to the side, propping it up so the contents inside didn't spill out.
It selected a small granola piece, holding it carefully between two fingers. "Open-pen up." It brought the 'bite' up to your face, prompting you to take it. It dropped the piece into your mouth, having to accommodate for the size change between the different food items.
The animatronic quickly selected your next bite, patiently waiting for you to finish with the first. However, when it offered the second, you didn't take it. The animatronic said something to itself, pulling away from you. "What?" You could hear the slight irritation in its voice, its eyes seeming to bore into you.
You didn't answer, only staring back. Maintaining strained eye contact. "You're re-refusing. Why?" It knew. It knew there was a reason behind your refusal. And not because you weren't hungry.
"You're acting differently." It was acting differently. You were acting differently. You felt lightheaded and delusional. You had missed the animatronic. You knew fair well that you hated it. You knew that your opinion on it would never change.
But… You had longed for it. Had wanted it. And not to mention what it had been doing before you had come to your proper senses. What had that been about?
And it was acting so… So nice? Nice was not the word. It had been acting differently since you had fucked yourself over. You had missed something. Something important.
The animatronic appeared motionless before it flung the raisins, nuts, and other small pieces across the ground. It quickly stood up, turning away from you. You could hear the bits continuing to slide across the floor.
The sudden action had you alert, nervousness overcoming you. The animatronic seemed to be on its last nerves. Struggling to remain calm. You had gotten past that single barrier of 'calm' with only a few sentences.
You stood with its back turned toward you, its hands clasped behind itself. You only watched in anticipation. What else could you do? You had treaded where the animatronic didn't want you. And now it appeared to be upset with you. "I know-know I'm-we're acting diff-differently." It snarked, keeping its voice low.
Right… But why?
You would've asked if it didn't have complete control of the situation. But it did. It decided what did, and did not happen. You were merely a puppet in the grand scheme of things. You didn't think pushing your luck was a good idea.
It stalked over to one of the various cabinets on the other side of the room, forcing open the drawer. "I'm assuming-guessing you-you want-wish to know-know why I'm acting sooooo different-differently." It reached in and pulled out… Something. It held the item up to one of its eyes, a chuckle escaping it. "Go on. Don't-Don't be shy. Ask."
It was forcing you to ask. It wanted you to ask. But you weren't sure if you wanted to know why anymore. Not with its sudden change in attitude. But it was going to make you. "Why?" Your voice was quiet, barely audible.
"W-Why, what?" Its strained smile was on the edge of intimidation, and 'Just barely hanging in there.' You could see it barely holding onto its cool. It was visibly shaking, attempting to control itself.
"Why's everything so off?" The animatronic turned toward you, slouching over. It snickered, taking a step toward you.
It undid the wrapped candy, tossing the wrapper on the ground. "Why?" It let its tongue slip from its teeth, saliva hitting the floor. "Because-cause I have to-to suffer from Sun's actions. I have-have to watch them. Endure-dure them. I j-just get jealous-envious because of them-them!"
It knelt down in front of you, tilting your head up so that you were looking up at its face. "I had-had it all planned out-out, every-everything was perfect. I trusted-obliged Sun-Sunshine to play-lay their p-part, but they keep-keep messing it up-up." It took hold of your face, using its finger to force your mouth open as it placed the item into your mouth.
Almost instantly you recognized what it was. It had the same texture and shape as a Moondrop. But the taste was different. It fizzed on your tongue, dissolving fairly quickly. The animatronic using its cold, tasteless finger to keep you from spitting it out.
What 'it' was, was a Sunnydrop.
"I could-could see-see that pure hatred-filled sh-shame on your f-face. You hated-despised every bit of it-it! Oh, yes-yes, I know-know y-you d-did." It pulled its face away, allowing it to turn a full 360 degrees. "I tried to stop Little Shining Star, but they wouldn't listen." Its voice was full of mocking disappointment, full of… Feigned sympathy.
"You hate-loathe us. I know you-you do-do. And every-every t-time I feel-feel like I'm-am get-getting somewhere, something happens to-to ruin it." It removed its finger from your mouth, picked up the gag, and re-gagged you.
"We love-obsess over you, we r-really do." It moved away from you as another cascade of saliva fell from its mouth. "However-ever, some-some of us, don't know-know how-how to play the game properly." The animatronic cupped its hands to its mouth as more of the salivary solution poured from its mouth.
The animatronic stumbled onto the balcony, snarling and gagging at itself.
But you had lost control of your focus.
Pure adrenaline had taken over, your fight or flight response had been forced into motion. You were bound by the restraints, which only made things worse.
Everything was worse. The animatronic had done something to you. It knew what it had done, and it was just leaving you in the dark. It was leaving you to figure this out on your own.
What had the animatronic given you?
What was happening to you?
Chapter End Notes
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Whiplash
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
You could feel your pupils dilating. You could feel your brain working to find the perceived threat. But you were alone. What threat was there? If anything, a 'threat' would be better than none. That meant someone was around. Someone might be able to help you. To save you.
But there was no one. You… Knew that, sure, but did you really 'know?' Maybe you did. Maybe you didn't. Clearly, there was something wrong. There was a threat somewhere. But what was it? Where was it? Was it even real?
This was real, right?
Yes. It had to be.
Your body was growing increasingly hotter, the skin-covering clothing did nothing to help you. It was hot. Very hot.
You could feel your skin rashing up, starting to itch, starting to burn. Your brain hurt, the world spun, and your thoughts jumbled together. The headache only grew worse. Everything was just getting worse.
The blue LEDs only hurt your eyes more, too bright for you. Too bright for… For everything. You could feel your attention being ripped around, your brain failing to discern the details. Your brain failing to do… Anything.
You could hear Moon's voice echoing. Fueling the pain in your body. But the words… The words were unrecognizable. Saying… Something. It had been saying something, or… Was that just your imagination?
Were you hallucinating?
———————————————
The Moondrops did not help you sleep.
They never did. They never have.
———————————————
Blinding lights. Screaming children. Overjoyed voices.
It felt like someone kept jabbing your brain. Like hot needles were being stabbed through your cranium. Over, and over, and over again. Everything hurt. Everything was out of your control.
Your head did not stop spinning.
Your eyes did not stop watering.
Your heart did not stop burning.
Your lungs did not stop cramping.
Your muscles did not stop spasming.
Your tendons did not stop aching.
Your skin did not stop itching.
Your body did not stop working overtime.
———————————————
The Sunnydrops were not just balls of liquidized sugar.
They were so much worse.
———————————————
Your vision was doubled. It was hard to focus. It was hard to control your body.
You could feel your stomach tightening and cramping. Everything. Everything was cramping.
Your brain stumbled and turned, unable to make sense of the world.
You knew where you were. But you didn't know what was happening. Didn't know what was affecting you.
Didn't know… Things. What should've been common knowledge.
———————————————
It didn't take long for the effects to kick in. To… Take their toll.
It hit you quick and fast.
Moments where your brain would disconnect from your body.
There was a knock on the window.
Who had done that?
A loud crackling sound.
What had done that?
A faint, faraway whisper.
Where was it coming from?
A half-filled coffee cup sat on the counter.
When had you placed it there?
The Moondrop's plain taste lingered.
Why had you taken it?
Things moved. Tastes lingered. Voices called.
How was this happening?
———————————————
It never stopped. There were times when the pain would lessen, and the cramps would give you a break. But it never stopped. Never seemed like it would stop.
Would the animatronic help you when it got back? Maybe.
Could you try to convince it to end your suffering? Maybe.
Did it know this would happen to you? Maybe.
Did it care about the amount of torture it was putting you through? Maybe.
Everything hurt your eyes. The colors were too vibrant. Too bold.
Your muscles kept spasming. Involuntary movements racking your body. Shivers and shudders kept you from staying still. Impulsive movements to get up and do something. But you couldn't. You couldn't do anything.
Your skin was hot and clammy, the friction of the fabrics only worsening your discomfort. Restraints, gag, clothing. Nothing was helping. Nothing could help.
And the awful screaming. Noise. You just wanted the world to go silent.
You just wanted someone, something to help you.
———————————————
The newly developed Sunnydrop your cousin had given you had desecrated your throat and upset your stomach. Laying in bed was the best thing you could do. Stay still. Ease the pain.
It was your best hope.
You felt absolutely awful. Never again would you be willing to try an alpha release Sunnydrop. Not after this experience.
Whoever thought these 'Sunnydrops' were at all 'ok' to ingest, had something coming their way. And to even think someone might've tried one and liked it.
If this was how it had affected you, you could only think about how it might affect all the little children. Especially due to their underdeveloped immune systems.
You could only hope that the future versions of the Sunnydrops would not make anyone this sick. Friend or foe, this was awful.
You could only pray that the company actually cared enough to change them.
———————————————
How long had it been? How long had it been since this had all started? Since the animatronic had done this to you?
An hour? Two? Thirty (30) minutes? Five (5) seconds?
Time was warping. It was beyond your recognition. It had been that way since the animatronic had kidnapped you.
You couldn't focus or pay attention. Couldn't count the time or think. Couldn't listen. Couldn't do anything.
Inflammation took its hold on your body. Tears soaked into your gag. Your throat was dried up, parched, and raw. You wanted to call out for help.
But you couldn't.
You wanted to put as much distance between you and the animatronic as possible. But again, you couldn't.
The animatronic had done this to you. It knew what it was doing to you. It was well aware that what it had given you, would be painful. That it would be mind-numbing.
That this would be a horrible experience.
It hurt. Everything hurt.
It knew that you were suffering, yet it had chosen to do this to you.
And now you could barely think. Could barely move.
Could do nothing.
Could do nothing but wait. And wait for what?
For it to return? Or wait for the effects to pass? Because, at this rate, it felt like it would never end. That this torment would never diminish.
What you needed, was help. Help from anyone. Help from anything. Even if it was the animatronic aiding you, you needed the help. Needed someone to end the atrocious effects of the Sunnydrop.
Someone.
Anyone.
———————————————
They thought they knew what they were doing.
They had planned everything out. Start to finish. From luring you. To kidnapping you. To making you fall in love with them. Their plan had been perfect. But they were not.
There was a problem. A big one. And it was getting in their way. They thought it would be a minor bump on their path to claiming you. They were, in fact, wrong. So very wrong.
They wanted you to be their puppet. They wanted you to oblige to all their needs and wants, to understand their insatiable urges. They wanted you under their control, to let them course the entirety of your life.
They were so close. So close to completing the picture. So close to having you all to themselves.
But you were so defiant.
You may not have been aware of what you were doing. Or what you were constantly denying them. They had plans, and they required action. They required your agreeability. But you just made things so difficult for them. Whether you knew that or not, they got annoyed by it. Made them impatient. Made them pushy.
You constantly refused them, denied them, disobeyed, hated, disallowed them. They only had so much self-control. That was, if they had any at all by the end of each day. They had to deal with the shenanigans of the children, had to endure their stuck-up attitudes while keeping a cheery environment.
And then when they got to see you… Got to interact… They were never satisfied. You left them wanting more. Left them always, always obsessing. At times they wanted to ravage you with their unwanted love.
But they couldn't.
They knew it came with consequences. They knew it would never end with you loving them. And so, they had to wait. Had to play their cards right. But they only had so much patience before they spilled. Before they overreacted.
They had their problems. Both of them.
Moon could barely hold back their stutter. Could barely keep their saliva from spilling. Moon was smart, yes, but with enough pressure, and with enough promise, they would break. And break they had.
And Sun? Sun had their problems too. Too handsy, too attention starved. Was too naive and desperate. What Sun wanted, was not equivalent to what you'd let them do.
They may have been in control of the situation, but you were in control of the problems. You hindered them. You really did. But they wouldn't tell you that.
They had to stay in control. They couldn't let you get away with things.
You needed to be put in place.
Needed to…
No.
No, they couldn't do that.
Wanted to, yes.
But couldn't.
———————————————
You just wanted this to be over with. You just wanted the animatronic to return so it could help you. So that it could provide comfort or company. You wanted someone to be there for you. You didn't want to suffer this alone.
It was unbearable. It was so painful.
It felt like your body was being cut open. As if someone was removing your entire nervous system while you were still alive. While you were wide awake, completely aware of what was happening to you.
You could feel your body convulsing, trying to get rid of the Sunnydrop. But your gag had completely numbed the reflex, leaving you with the awful taste of extra saliva.
You could feel that your body was tired. Tired of reacting. Tired of the torment that wouldn't leave you alone. But you couldn't do anything. The adrenaline still ran through you, keeping you awake.
Keeping you aware.
———————————————
Restart, and reboot.
Restart, and reboot.
Restart… And reboot.
They knew it'd be a painful experience for you.
They knew what it'd do to you.
However, if it would do what they wanted, was another problem.
It was their short-term resolve, temporary. But it'd work… For now.
Moon had said too much. They knew what they were saying too. Could've stopped talking at any moment. But they chose not to. They chose to tell you, and now they had to solve this.
They blamed each other. Wouldn't take the fall. They agreed on so little, you were, however, the exception. The small percentage that they could agree on.
But even then, they had different ideas of what they wanted to do to you.
Moon had their own ideas. Sun had others.
The Attendant wanted to do so many things. But you wanted to be left alone.
They knew you couldn't ignore them forever. That eventually you'd let them in. But it seemed that no matter how nice, how caring, how comforting they were toward you, they would never be successful.
That's why they had to go to the extremes.
That's why they had to take matters into their own hands.
———————————————
Your body had burnt through your energy. You were unaware of the things around you. But you couldn't sleep. The adrenaline didn't allow it.
You could barely move on your own. It was just your body working instinctively. You did not feel like you were in control. You weren't sure if you even were anymore.
Your brain was scattered with the sensory overload. The bright colors, the screaming, the nausea, the symptoms, everything.
———————————————
"We love-obsess over you, we r-really do." Stop talking. Moon wouldn't stop talking. They had to stop. They were saying too much. Giving away too much. They needed to control themselves.
But they couldn't. They couldn't shut up.
Their saliva wouldn't stop pouring from their mouths. It wouldn't stop producing. They couldn't regulate it. Couldn't control it. They couldn't control themselves.
"However-ever," stop talking. "-Some-Some of us," stop salivating. "-Don't know-know how-how to play the game properly." They had to get out of here. They needed to get away from you. They were saying too much. Giving away too much.
They clasped their hands over their mouth, biting their slippery tongue. Shut up. They had to shut up and keep quiet.
Leave. They needed to leave. Needed you to forget.
The effects would kick in quickly. They knew they were about to desecrate your mind with the Sunnydrop. But you would live. You would be fine.
Hopefully.
Sure, it would be a torturous ride, but that part was intended. It had been necessary. They couldn't let you think about it. Couldn't let you think at all.
Moon may have spilled, but they had also thought of a smart resolution. However, they knew that wasn't going to slide every time. They couldn't keep saying things, had to keep their mouths shut. Had to stay quiet.
But it was hard to control themselves. Not when you kept taunting them. Not when you kept leaving them wanting more.
They knew they couldn't do what they wanted. Even while you were vulnerable. Even while you were helpless. They needed to keep to themselves.
But it was just… Just so hard to do. They liked getting handsy. Liked touching and prodding. They liked when you reacted to them. Anything but hate, they liked.
They had to wait for you to come to them. But it was too hard. Hard to share. Hard to take turns. Hard to engage with you. It was like a snail race for them.
They both wanted the first bite.
The first show of affection.
They wanted so many things.
And yet, the only thing you wanted, was freedom.
They knew that.
They knew that all too well.
———————————————
Was there an end to this? Hopefully.
Would the animatronic be able to help you? Maybe.
There seemed to be no end in sight. You had been waiting and waiting. Waiting for it to be over. Waiting for sweet, sweet relief.
Your brain couldn't even process the agony. Your cognition was rapidly deteriorating. Whether permanently, or temporarily, was unknown. All of it was unknown.
You were delusional.
Nothing felt real. Nothing seemed real.
But it was.
This was no dream.
This was your present reality.
———————————————
Tempted. They were so very tempted.
When you had cut yourself up, they had been mad. Furious. They had to clean up the bloody mess, had to clean the wounds. Had to make sure you weren't making things worse.
But the more they thought about it, the more they realized.
You were completely dependent on them. You had to rely on them. You couldn't do anything without their help. Sure, you could still run, but that was about it.
All the doors required some sort of security pass. That was something you did not have. That was something they'd make sure you'd never get. But there was still a lingering sense of fear. A feeling of worry.
You had already proven that you wanted to escape. And because you were so desperate, you had managed to make things worse for yourself. It helped them. It eased that paranoia. But as long as you were still able to walk… To move… They'd have their eyes on you.
They had trusted you once, and you had lost it all with one stupid, unplanned move.
They had thought it was working. And it was. But slowly. Slower than anticipated. Slower than they wanted. Moon had set the plan up, had put all the pieces together. But now, their hardship was to refrain from messing it up.
By telling you, by letting you in on their ideas. Or by scaring you, or taunting you, or ruining you.
If they rushed, they might ruin you.
They didn't want to ruin their Plaything.
It was hard replacing their toys.
Especially when said toy, was one of a kind.
You were exclusive.
Their limited edition.
———————————————
You wanted to throw up. Felt your stomach trying to. But your body didn't respond. Didn't move, didn't react. It hurt to move, hurt to think.
Your body was trying to get rid of the horrid thing that had caused this, but it couldn't. Your body wouldn't respond to anything. Not even you, or what you referred to as 'you,' was able to move. Not able to think. Not properly.
When would this be over?
When would it end?
The headaches, the light-headed feeling.
All of it.
———————————————
They wanted you to just accept them.
They wanted you to just give in already.
They wanted you to be theirs.
They wanted you all to themselves.
You played in and out of their hands. You resisted and refused their attempts to get closer to you. You refused to be their doll. They fantasized that one day you'd just give in, that you'd let them do what they wanted.
They knew they could do so much for you. Could adorn you with their loving compliments. Could put you in a state of pure bliss. All they needed, was for you to give in.
But the chances of you saying something like that only diminished with every passing day. You were another thing they wanted but just couldn't have.
They could look and admire, and sometimes even talk. But you were only for display. They couldn't touch, couldn't feel or explore. You were like an art piece in a museum.
Off-limits.
It was a concept they couldn't understand.
They had five senses, just like everyone else. And with those 'senses,' came exploring. What was the point of staring at something so pretty, if they could not touch said thing?
Smell it, but not taste?
Touch it, but not see?
What made sense to the fleshbags around them, did not make sense to them.
———————————————
Anything other than this.
Anything to ease the burning, rashing rage of your skin.
The itching that swelled in your blood.
The feeling of not being in control of yourself.
Everything piled on top of each other, everything weighing you down.
Yet you could do nothing. You were tied up, bound by the animatronic's dreadful ribbons.
You had never felt anything so painstaking. So volatile. So torturous.
———————————————
They knew that you would never willingly take a Sunnydrop.
They knew it would be an experience you wouldn't enjoy.
But what they didn't know, was just how bad it could get. How bad it would get.
They both claimed that it was necessary. That they had no other choice. That they had to do it. Moon had spilled. Moon had slipped up. And now, Moon was going to fix the problem.
Sun played coy for Moon. Distracting and entertaining the children. Continuing as if everything was normal.
But nothing was normal. Their excitement was forced. Their smiles were cheap. Their attention was not entirely focused, constantly drifting back to their room. Wondering just exactly what it was that you were doing.
They wanted to know everything about you. From what you treasured most, to what you thought about. If they could ask you questions, and get answers, they would.
But you never answered with a smile on your face. With a genuine look of happiness. You were always so… Depressive. So defiant and resistant.
But they knew that wasn't the real you. You were blocking yourself off from them.
Your cousin had told them so much about you.
Any time they asked, your cousin would always have an answer.
They wanted to see that delightful, cheery side of you. Wanted to experience it. Wanted to lavish themselves with it.
But they needed to figure out how to break you from your shell. And they had a plan for that too. But it was hard. They both found it troubling to get you to agree to anything. Whether you were aware of it or not, you were constantly denying them.
They needed to figure something out.
And they needed to figure it out now.
Reboot.
And restart.
———————————————
You hadn't noticed that it was back.
You hadn't been able to notice anything. To be able to fix your attention on something.
Its yellow silhouette stared down at you, examining your fucked up state. It was talking to you, but you couldn't comprehend what it was saying. It nudged your shoulder with its knuckle, prompting a response.
But you couldn't give one.
It reached behind your head to undo the gag, examining your facial features. It got on its knees, touching and prodding you. But you couldn't respond. Didn't have the energy to be able to.
At some point, it forced a finger between your lips, forcing open your mouth. It popped a blue candy in, which had instantly begun to melt on your tongue.
The animatronic tilted your head up, forcing your unfocused eyes to look up at it. It said more things, more words, but you were unable to understand its gibberish. Whether you wanted to, or not.
Its touch was soothing. Cold and chilly against your scalding hot skin. You couldn't help but lean in. Its soft silicone was smooth and unnaturally comfortable to rest against. It felt nice. Too nice.
You leaned into its touch, letting it cradle your head with its large hand. You could feel its other hand prodding and touching. Eventually running down your neck, all the way down to your collarbone.
You welcomed the icy touch.
You longed for it.
Chapter End Notes
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Hot and Cold
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
You woke up to the biting sting of being cold. You… Didn't exactly hate it. But your body was already struggling to maintain its warmth. Struggling to maintain your excessively sweaty state. It seemed there was no winning to this debate of hot and cold. Especially not now. Not when your body couldn't facilitate anything. Not properly.
You were shivering, goosebumps arising on your skin. It was the water that made you cold. You were not in the balcony room anymore. You weren't clothed either. Against the animatronic, its chilled body pressed up against yours. Cold fingers tracing circles into your back, a feather-light touch.
Even if you wanted to push the animatronic away, you couldn't. You wouldn't. Everything hurt. Everything was either sore or inflamed. The cold water, cold air, and cold silicone. It… Actually helped. You hated to admit it, but the animatronic's touch was… Soothing. Was comforting.
You didn't know if the animatronic knew you were awake. You didn't really care either. So long as it didn't draw attention, didn't try to engage, you'd be fine. You'd be just great.
That was if you could ignore the position the two of you were in. Or rather, the position it had chosen for you. With its body between your legs, with the two of you being chest-to-chest. It was too close for proper comfort. But you were too weak to do anything. Even keeping your eyes open was a struggle, exhaustion eagerly weighing down upon you.
Let it do what it needed to. What it wanted to. It was the easiest way to get through this. The easiest way to recover. That was your top priority. Healing. And a significant step to making sure you healed as fast as possible, was to sleep.
The bonus to that was not having to worry about anything else. The animatronic was fine with letting you sleep. In fact, it encouraged the activity.
It helped pass the time. Would help you get through these painfully long days. Would help you get through the worst of it. Of… Everything.
Helped you escape the life you called 'your own.'
———————————————
A Moondrop for all their problems. That was all they needed. They were potent. They were effective. And if used correctly, could be extremely deadly. And not in the sense that it could kill someone. That would be… A waste of a fleshbag.
Moondrops had originally been created to make it easier for children to go to sleep. The main ingredient was not what was written down. 'Melatonin.' Lies. Lies of the company. They used that lie to cover up the sick truth. The sick truth lying behind the Moondrops. Of what they were made of. What they did. Of what they could do.
Moondrops aided in the process of putting people to sleep, yes, but there was so much more they could do with the candy. It was… Their little secret. They needed a continuous supply of candies. And when they said needed, they meant it. Needed it to accomplish their own wants and desires. Their own needs and plans.
It was… A developed technique.
"You t-talk about your family so-so often." Maybe not the entire family, but one person in particular. One who seemed so odd. So… Different. "We really do-do wish to meet said f-family members." Just the one. That was all they really wanted. But they couldn't be acting suspiciously. Had to be… Inclusive. Couldn't reveal anything. Not to anyone else.
A false sense of security. That was what they were trying to establish. Trying to lure them into telling. Into spilling information. Had to play it off smoothly. Had to be patient. They had to wait. But they could barely contain themselves. Barely.
"I could try. But I can't promise anything." To try. It was good enough for them. Usually, they'd get disregarded and talked down to. But they understood why. They were pieces of machinery, built by the very mushy sacks of flesh that treated them atrociously.
They would never get the same treatment the Glamrocks did. The Glamrocks. Everyone's favorite. Of course, those electronic models got treated better. They always would. And they knew that.
"Try-Trying is b-better than letting your d-doubtful subconscious win-win." It was true… In some regards. They didn't care though. They would continue pushing this sad, sorry person into doing whatever they wanted.
That's what a puppet was for, right?
———————————————
Waking up again. Waking up to being too cold. Shivering. Your instinctive reaction was to curl in on yourself. Your hands hurting because of the way they were pressed up against your chest, but you were too cold. Too cold. You assumed part of the problem was the damp state of your clothes.
Perhaps even the floor. The floor of the balcony. Wooden floorboards that did nothing in aiding you any warmth. Hot and cold, there was no 'winning.'
Your body was shivering, your teeth chattering. You could feel the animatronic's ghostly presence behind you. Watching you. Observing. "Cold?" Really? Did it look like you were cold? Yes. Very much so. You would've been glaring at the animatronic were you not suffering. But that was, however, not the case.
You didn't give the animatronic a response, didn't want to either. However, the animatronic didn't need one. It did what it wanted. Sure, maybe you had a tiny bit of influence on its actions, but it was nothing significant. It would never be anything more, if not less.
You watched the animatronic's shadow, too cold and too hungry to turn your body to look at it. To really even pay attention to it. Sleeping could only do so much. Doing nothing only got you so far. But you were doing just 'nothing.' You were recovering. That was fair enough, right?
Right.
The animatronic walked by, choosing to stand directly in the center of your vision. It reached toward its bed, shifting some of the covers around. It glanced back over at you, its pupils staring down at your miserable form. "M-May we move you to our bed? We think it'll provide... Optimal warmth." And what was to stop it? It had already prepared the area for you.
You didn't care. You were theirs to maneuver, to do what they wanted with. It seemed to be a game of waiting. Waiting and hoping that someone might save you. Hoping that someone might notice your disappearance.
Speaking of which… How had no one noticed yet? How long had it even been? Maybe… Four (4) or five (5) days? Somewhere around there… Maybe. You would've thought someone would notice your absence. Or maybe they had and the police were looking for you? That was the best scenario. But… Who knew?
God damn it. How were you-
"Well?" Right. The animatronic was waiting for an answer. Waiting for 'permission.' Yeah, because it really cared about that kind of stuff, didn't it? Not. Trick question. The animatronic had said it would respect your boundaries, and then it hadn't. It had forced you into doing what it wanted.
You let out a grumbled reply, your voice coming out weak and inaudible. Your tongue felt like sandpaper. Dry. Overly dry. It was disgusting really. The animatronic, however, continued staring down at you.
"S-Sorry?" You felt like it was picking you apart as a vulture does a carcass. Regarding you reproachfully. Waiting for your reply. Why didn't it just do what it wanted? Why was it forcing you to speak? To answer?
"Yeah." Your throat was dry. The word didn't come out properly, especially not through your chattering teeth. And somehow, the animatronic understood what you said. This time.
You were tempted to ask for a cough drop, but you doubted it'd have such a thing. You also doubted it would waste its time getting one for you. It wasn't worth its time.
The animatronic turned toward you, kneeling down. "You sure are quiet t-today." Commented the automaton. Quieter, or less bitchy? You were aware that when you weren't speaking, you were typically stewing in a fathoming hatred. You assumed that the animatronic was sensing this change as well. Ugh.
And you hated that. It was observing you. Watching you. And waiting. You didn't want it to pay any attention to you. Wanted to be left alone. In fact, if it hadn't noticed you, hadn't paid attention to you, you wouldn't be here.
The animatronic reached toward you, carefully pulling your body toward its own. You grumbled your complaints, unable to fully voice them. Not that you wanted to. For all the animatronic cared, it could just drop you and call it a day.
You doubted it would do that though. Ever. It hadn't ever done anything like that before. But who knows? Maybe it would. As far as you had evidence for, it hadn't purposely tried to hurt you. Well… Maybe? Had it? You couldn't be sure, the days were seemingly merging together. Your schedule was off track and disoriented, the details of said days were no better.
The animatronic set you in the bed, kneeling beside the edge. It waited until you had finally stopped moving around before pulling the comforter over your body. Tucking you in. That was what it was doing.
You… Didn't appreciate the action. You really didn't appreciate anything the animatronic had done so far. You would've preferred that it had just killed you. No matter how gruesome, how torturous, you would rather not be here. This was torture in itself.
Your hands were useless to you. You were spoon-fed, against your will, by the animatronic. You… Had to shower with it. You had to endure its unnecessary love and affection. Had to go with what it did, what it asked of you. You were not in control. Never had been since you had woken up.
You just wanted to live a normal life. To be left alone to do your own thing. You had no interest in loving another. Had no interest in spending your time with them either. Especially when your obsessor was a robot built for kids. Made to entertain children.
Fucking hell. This bullshit was unnecessary. This drama in your life was unneeded. You had suffered through all of the 'little' things life had thrown at you, and this? This was how you were getting paid back?
A boring life. That's what you wanted. Left alone to rot without anyone else. It was better than this. At least you actually had some kind of freedom in that alternative. You would be able to do what you wanted. Would be free of… Everything.
But you weren't. And fantasizing about such freedom was pointless. All it had done, was add to the depressing thoughts that had started to swarm your brain. In your thoughts.
It made you feel hopeless. And that's because you practically were. Basic human functions… You couldn't even do those. It was pathetic. A human so… Ruined. That was you. All because you caught your hand on a fucking vent. A vent. Of all things.
Suffering through the consequences. Suffering through your stupid actions.
You should've waited. Should've waited and actually thought things through.
The animatronic was still staring at you. Not even a blink. Which… Was fair assuming that it didn't really ever close its eyes in the first place. But it didn't have to stare. It didn't have to… Make you feel small and squeamish.
After just a few more moments of locked eye contact, it finally spoke. Finally dared to break the tension. "How do you feel?" Though you preferred that it hadn't. It wasn't even a real question. It knew exactly how you were feeling. It knew… Lots of things about yourself. Things that even you didn't know.
It knew what was happening to you. It had been the one to give you the Sunnydrop. It was the one with the Sunnydrops in its possession. It… It was the one at fault.
It was the reason any of this was happening to you. And you refused to believe otherwise. You had done nothing but live your life. And guess where that got you?
Right. You didn't have to guess. You were currently living through that reality, weren't you?
"Terrible." A singular word to describe it all. Except, that word didn't quite carry the same hatred that you felt. Whether you were describing the damage of the Sunnydrop, or describing everything else that had happened so far, it was awful.
The animatronic tilted its head, rays swaying with the motion. "Just 'terrible?' Afraid that doesn't help us, Toy." You weren't going to talk for the automaton. It couldn't force you to do that. Sure, it could threaten you into doing so, but it couldn't do anything else. You doubted it would do anything over something so small. A waste of its time. A waste of your time.
You didn't respond, rolling your eyes and burying yourself further into the bed. It was slowly getting warmer. Slowly easing the uncomfortable numbness throughout your body. Too slowly. You were still a shivering mess, your hands throbbing at the undefined temperature.
"We need more information, Thing. P-Perhaps you could describe how you're feeling? Symptoms maybe?" It was funny how it was trying to act nice. Trying to act as if it cared. It was repulsive. Disgusting.
That horrid candy. It had given it to you. It should've known the side effects. Should've known what would happen to you. And yet, it had ignored the possibilities. It had just downright given it to you.
It had fucked you over. And it had fucked you hard.
"It sucks." You snarked, refusing to give it the descriptive answer it wanted. What it wanted, did not correlate to how you wished to respond. That was its problem. It could put the clues together. It could be the smart animatronic that it was.
The animatronic reached out, tapping your nose with its index finger. "We're trying. We really are." It folded its arms onto the bed, resting its head on top of them. Its rays retracting into its faceplate as it settled into a 'comfortable' position. You had heard those words before. And you still didn't believe them.
"Do… Do you wish to sleep?" Did you? Maybe. You wanted to sleep through all of this. You were already in the animatronic's possession, what more did it want from you?
But at the same time, you didn't have your human rights. Were separated from others. It… It wasn't fair. Life wasn't fair. Nothing was fair. It just so happened that you were one in eight billion. How lucky you are. Such an opportunity to be kidnapped. Really, was your irony not enough to express your hate?
You would do so much for things to be normal. To be released. To be saved. Anything to gain your humanity back. To be treated with some sort of respect.
Maybe sleeping was the best option. But even then, nightmares still existed. In fact, they had been more frequent since this all began. You couldn't exactly remember them, but you knew you had them. It was like any old dream. Nothing special. And nothing new.
"I don't know." You seemed to have been saying that phrase a lot. Leaving the animatronic to figure out those things for itself. Why? Because you didn't care. You wanted the animatronic to hate you. You wanted it to push you away. Because maybe then, it'd let you go.
It was a distant hope, but at least you were still trying. Giving in just seemed just too easy. It was basically you telling it that you accepted this horrible fate. And you didn't. You would never. The problem was keeping yourself alive.
You could easily jump off the balcony. It was right there. It was just that… That you wanted to get out with both your skull and spine intact. That you'd still be 'sane' by the time you got out. That you'd still be functional.
It was awful. The animatronic. Its… Pill-like candies. Its behavior. Its ability to kidnap someone. All of it. Everything. It was horrible. It was bad enough on its own. But with its candies, it brought the nightmare into color.
It had been awful. And to think those things were meant for kids. Meant to be handed out as a 'reward.' Either your own had been defective, or… Or something. All you knew, was what you had experienced. That you would never take another. That you'd never look at it the same ever again.
"How's about this, Thing." It reached out toward you, cupping your face in its hand. Unpleasant to the touch. Especially just after getting warmed up. But you didn't push it away. You really couldn't. "If you go to sleep and get well-rested, we can do anything after hours." Anything. Interesting. You barely cared. You just wanted to sleep. To be left alone. Anything but this.
"We could do… Mazercise." Funny. You… Had used to love Mazercise. You rarely got to go, and when you did? It was always alone. And now the animatronic was offering. To say you had a flicker of appreciation. You didn't like the feeling. Didn't like the animatronic.
"The Cupcake Shop is always open as-as well. Perhaps if you want to eat something sugary later, we can satisfy that sweet tooth craving." Maybe. Sugar seemed like a bad idea. And it usually was, especially in large amounts. "However, what we do t-together, will be up to you." Ahh, yes, of course. You definitely believed it. Totally.
It wouldn't be the first time the animatronic pulled some stupid lie to convince you. And you were sure it wouldn't be the last either.
Rest. That was all you had to do. It was a benefit to you. And it was what the animatronic wanted. Right? Seemed like it should've been a win-win situation for the both of you. But you knew you couldn't trust the animatronic. That you never would. Would never want to. "How does that sound? Sounds fantastic, right? Why don't you try to get a bit of shut-shuteye?" It was forcing this. Was forcing you into accepting again.
But as long as it didn't give you a Moondrop. Anything that carried a similarity to the god-awful Sunnydrop was a huge no. The texture, the taste, and even the visual appeal. You would remember that. You would remember what it looked like and what it did. And never would you take it again.
Maybe sleeping would be beneficial. Wasn't like you could do anything else. No form of entertainment. Nothing to draw on or read. Not even a pencil. And… Not like you could do either. You'd have to ask the animatronic to read to you, and you were positive that would be an experience you wouldn't enjoy. You would, in fact, loathe it instead.
"I…I guess." The animatronic smiled at your response, pulling away from you. You resisted the instinctual urge to roll your eyes. You weren't in the mood. Never had been. Never would be.
"Why don't you try, Toy? We have all night." Lies. It would only wait so long before it fed you a Moondrop.
And to you, that was not all night. That was, whenever 'all night' ended for it. When it decided that it was tired of waiting.
You wanted it to give up on you. You wanted it to think of you as a waste of space.
You just wanted to go home, free of these lingering thoughts.
Was that too much to ask for?
Chapter End Notes
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Feeling Dizzy Yet?
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
You were still in the animatronic's bed. That bit was obvious. And just as blatantly aware of that fact as you were, you were also just as aware of the feverish state your body was in.
Bleary, unfocused vision. A scrambled mind. A sore body. Shivers and chills. However, you were hot. Shivering, but hot. The room was stuffy and dry, unhelpful to your indecisive state.
The animatronic's hold on your body prevented you from moving around, nonetheless allowing you to move to a more comfortable, less back-aching position.
Your upper half was using the automaton as a replacement pillow, covered by the comforter up to your waist. Not that you necessarily had a choice. But you were too tired to care about anything.
You were in too much pain to truly pay attention to the world around you. You were just too exhausted. Too tired to really care. Too tired to try and do anything about it. You were comfortable right where you lay, and that was all that mattered to you at the moment.
The animatronic was curled over your upper half, keeping you close to itself. A cruel part of you wanted the animatronic to be affected by your own illness, another part of you wanted to distance yourself from it. All the disadvantages of being kidnapped by something inhuman.
The burning soreness in your throat was awfully painful, swallowing your saliva only made that fuzzy, hot sensation hurt more. You could only imagine talking. You knew that would only make it hurt more. So much more. But eventually, you'd have to. You knew you'd have to.
You just wanted to get better. Just wanted to get back to a reasonable condition. However, that wasn't happening. Not anytime soon that was.
You hadn't been eating consistent meals. You hadn't been able to take care of your injuries. You hadn't been able to sleep restoratively. And the constant stress placed upon you too. None of it was helping. None of this was doing you any good.
The ugly truth. It always had a way to reveal itself, to make its presence known. Struggling with the infection running through your body. Struggling with the fever that had taken hold of you.
Irritable and weak. Aching headaches. An extreme loss of appetite. The symptoms piled atop one another, making things worse than they already were.
If the animatronic had just taken proper care of you, you wouldn't be here. Wouldn't be suffering as much as you were. If it hadn't given you that Sunnydrop… That Sunnydrop had done something to you. It had completely destroyed your immune system, had weakened your body's natural barriers against bacteria and infections. And not to mention your horrible experience. Never again. Never would you put another one of those things into your mouth.
That was your main worry. You just had to cling to your false sense of hope. It didn't mean a lot, but it was something. Just had to hope that the animatronic wouldn't hurt you even more. That it would let you heal.
But how could you be sure it'd let you do that? It wanted you to be dependent on it. Because if you had to rely on it, then that meant it had control over you. That you couldn't do anything yourself. But…
But you didn't have to think about that. Didn't want to.
You snuggled yourself into the animatronic, enjoying the softness of the fabrics it wore. Not the company. Its company was… A different story. But you didn't have to worry about that. Just had to focus on how comfortable you felt. Didn't have to focus on its wandering hands. Didn't have to pay attention to any of it.
"-eat, and perhaps do some other activities…" You had barely noticed the animatronic's deep voice talking to you. It was talking to you, right? But as much as you tried to focus on its words, you couldn't. Its low-octave, uninterrupted voice was too hard to pay attention to properly.
You could barely tell if it was talking to inform you, or if it was just talking to soothe you. It was barely mumbling its words, some even slurring together. But its intentions were still unclear. It… Didn't seem upset that you weren't listening to it, leading you to believe that the animatronic was only talking to fill the silence. Excluding its mechanical ticking, of course.
The animatronic brought its hand up to your face, pressing the back of it to your forehead. You only curled further into yourself. But you didn't exactly pull yourself away from the unwanted contact.
It continued mumbling its words, continued talking. But you could barely comprehend its indistinct speech. But you were aware of its new pattern of speech. It hadn't stuttered, not yet anyway. But you were so used to it tripping up on itself every so often. So used to its unique way of talking. Whether its speech pattern was intentional or not, it was intriguing.
You… Didn't think that it was intentional, however. When its other stuttered, it always had the irritated look of annoyance. As if it were upset by the constant repetition. You had a feeling that wasn't intentional, that it, in fact, despised the habit.
You would ask… If you weren't scared. If you weren't in pain. If you weren't too tired to truly care. You were just barely hanging on to consciousness, your eyelids drooping against your will. You were on the cusp of going back to sleep. Just wanted to be left alone. Just wanted to go back to your dreamland.
But you were too cold. That was why you hadn't slipped back into subconsciousness yet. Soon, it wouldn't matter, not when your body forced you to go back to sleep. But on your own will, seemed almost impossible.
It was just that the air was too cold against your face, neck, forearms, and feet. It was just uncomfortable enough to keep you awake. To keep you aware. An ugly feeling. A feeling that made you feel generally icky. Made you feel… Gross.
"P-Poor you, Sweet-Sweet Thing." And now, it seemed to be talking to you. It was talking loud enough for you to listen, to comprehend. It was stuttering in its familiar pattern now. Normal. It was talking 'normally.' "We'll tend-tend to-to you later-later to-tonight. Make-Make you feel better-greater than you do-do now-now." Informing. Informing you of its planned activities. But did that really matter? It was going to do what it wanted anyways, so to you, it was rambling. Rambling on and on. Rambling about your future demise.
"Have p-planned activities-things to do-do. Have things-things to-to help you feel-feel better-great." It traced a finger across the patch of uniform covering your infected wound. "Want-Wish to-to fix-fix the accidents-mistakes that should not-not have-have come to-to existance."
Fix. Fix their mistakes. Fix their 'accidents.' For starters, they could let you go. This whole thing was a mistake. This was morally wrong, and clearly, the animatronic couldn't see that. It didn't change anything. You were still here. Until you were safely back in your bed, and had gotten proper a night's rest, you would not consider yourself free.
Suffering through all of it. Just had to find a solution. Needed a plan. Whether that plan was to escape or to care for your wounds. Either way, it was a step forward. A step toward freedom, something every human craved deep down inside.
"Perhaps-haps we c-could try some more-different food options-decisions." Food. You didn't think you could stomach anything. Too cramped, too… Too something. "May-Maybe a drink-liquid that may akin-agree with your t-taste. It'll help-help you stay-stay hydrated-healthy. It will-will be easier-better for us-us." Easier for it. But what about you?
The animatronic moved its hand to comb through your hair. Pulling you closer so that it could cradle your smaller body, forcing you to press up against it. A pathetic attempt to soothe your feeble mind. But you weren't going to push it away. Not that you really could.
You were too tired for this. Too… Stressed out. You just needed a break, a day of relaxation. Needed something to occupy your brain, something that didn't worsen the pounding in your skull.
"Go-Go b-back to sleep-sleep, Fav-Favorite." You wanted to. Could barely keep your eyes open. A break. A vacation. The only way you could achieve that, was by sleeping.
And sleeping, seemed to be your new remedy for everything.
———————————————
Itchy. A light burning sensation that they wanted to claw at. But they couldn't. It would be a horrid sight. It would, however, be fun to see the reactions of the apes down in Parts and Service.
They hated that they could feel anything. The touch of the children's sticky hands, the scratchy cotton interior of their clothing, and God damn it, their itchy tongues.
It was an 'organ' they would prefer not to have. Seeing the disgust on their faces every time they went down there, constantly having to deal with their stress stutter, having to maintain it themself. And while there was the benefit of being able to taste things, it just wasn't worth it.
They would say they enjoyed the faces of disgust they were able to elicit from the common fleshbag, but it hurt sometimes. Inhuman. That's what it was. And all because they were constructed of mechanical parts, they'd never be treated the same way. They would never be equal to the skinsacks that surrounded them.
And none of them were responsible enough to actually fix them. They did the bare minimum. They were all there just for the money. Just to get face-to-face with the popular stars that represented the place. And they knew, they knew that they would never be seen as equals. They'd always be an extra piece when compared to them.
And they would always take the blame. Montgomery had another meltdown on stage? It was somehow their fault. A motherboard was missing from Parts and Service? It was their fault. Roxanne was suffering another depression episode? It was their fault. Everything was their fault. Someway, somehow.
It was just a pitiful display. A display of cowardice. Everyone's problems were pushed onto them, the poor animatronic who was stuck taking care of children. And it was all because people couldn't stand up for their own mistakes. Couldn't admit to what they had done wrong.
If they were going to be blamed for something, they could at least try to make it something exciting. For say… Kidnapping a person.Or perhaps… Killing one.Maybe even drug abusewould suit their taste.
But no one would expect something like that from The Daycare Attendant. Sure, a lot of things were blamed on them, but nothing as extreme. Nothing worthy of being decommissioned for. That didn't mean they wouldn't do anything like that. Not to say that they hadn't already done any of those.
And did they regret it? No.
You were worth so much to them. Precious enough that they'd kidnap you. Obviously, that point was already proven with you laying in their arms. And if you refused to accept that you were theirs, they'd go to the extremes. Maiming you… Branding you… Physical trauma… There was a lot they could do. And they weren't scared to explore the different options at their disposal.
At least it'd prove a point: They weren't some plaything to throw all the blame on.
People were paid to torture helpless animatronics, so why shouldn't they get anything in return? If anything, those fleshbags shouldn't be getting money for something they enjoyed doing. That they absolutely delighted in.
They loved Parts and Service. Absolutely delighted in going down every other week. In fact, they couldn't spend enough time down there. Really, it was a shame that Parts and Service couldn't do routine maintenance more often.
What wasn't to love about it?
It was the place where they got 'properly' taken care of. It was the place that always left them feeling brand new. That prevented them from being put out of use. Cleared their systems. Made them feel grateful for the human maintenance workers that slaved underground just to keep them in working order every day.
Running anti-viruses, replacing their outer silicone layer, and making sure they were in working order.
Right.
That was why they hadn't done anything disastrous yet.
Not anything noticeable, that was.
———————————————
"And-And you're positive-absolutely sure you aren't hungry-starving?" It wasn't that you weren't hungry. It just felt like you couldn't stomach anything. You'd rather starve yourself than continue to teeter on the edge of constantly feeling like you had to throw up.
You whispered a soft reply, not that the animatronic could make out what you had said. Nor yourself. All you knew was that the animatronic had taken your 'response.' And to you, that was a win. Your point had gotten across, and that was sufficient enough for the two of you.
The animatronic had told you it'd take you to Mazercise, not some shitty fast-food restaurant. And it's not that you wanted to be doing anything, but rather that you were being forced to. Something about using this time to get to know each other more. You would rather that it knew nothing about you. It already knew too much; it didn't need to know anything more.
You were already suffering. Your fever wasn't going to let up anytime soon, not while infection coursed through your body. And here the animatronic was, forcing you to walk, forcing you to interact. Loathing. You were loathing every moment of this forced exertion. You just wanted to lay down and sleep. Lay down and, at least, do nothing.
At the very least, it could carry you. Instead of dragging you around by your forearm, it could just carry you. Everything hurt too much for this, but you could barely complain. You could barely talk. Was it really so hard for the animatronic to supply you with a cough drop? Or did it choose not to?
You would rather be doing this at a time when you would actually enjoy the activity. That was despite the animatronic. It'd always be close enough to touch you. That was, when you weren't tied up like a rabid animal. Because, apparently, you were just 'too precious' to lose.
But even so, your well-being should be at the top of their list. They had kidnapped you for the purpose of love, and what was there to love if you were dead? Realistically? They should think again about dragging you everywhere when you should really be resting.
Almost anything would be better than this. You were caught between being too hot and being too cold. Goosebumps were forming around the skin where animatronic's hand was, its exterior too cold for your warm body.
The point of a fever was to burn the bacteria out of your body. The animatronic's touchy self, did not help with that. Laying down and resting. That's what you needed. However, that was not what it allowed you to do. Why? Because the animatronic was too ignorant to provide what you needed, rather focusing on what it wanted.
You'd rather be anywhere else but here. Moving your stiff and sore muscles was painful. Standing up with your weakened legs was painful. The animatronic's tight grasp on your arm was painful. Enduring this, was painful. You were like a toy in the animatronic's hands. Meant to be maneuvered and manipulated, all for personalized entertainment.
"You'll-Will have to-to eat-indulge eventually. P-Perhaps we could try-attempt something-thing bland-tasteless and light if-if your appetite decides-chooses to-to remain-main absent." It wasn't absent. It was just that you preferred not to potentially embarrass yourself. It would be… An interesting part of this 'journey' to remember.
What you really wanted, was for the animatronic to drop the subject about food. You also wanted it to let you go home, but that was truly beyond reason. You had done nothing to get yourself caught up in such a disaster, but life wasn't fair. Was it?
"D-Don't look so-so d-down, Sweet Thing-Thing. We-I j-just want you-you to-to enjoy this new-newfound free time-time." Enjoying and suffering were two different words. However, the animatronic managed to use them interchangeably! "And-And you can't-not waste all-all of your time-time sleeping-resting. It's not-not a healthy-good thing-schedule to do-to have." It's not that you wanted to sleep. You'd rather do a lot of things rather than that, but you were a sick, suffering person. Sometimes sleeping was the only useful pain reliever available to you.
Its inhumane drugs were no different. Sure, they put you to sleep, but what else did they do? You weren't willing to trust anyone's answer to that. Whether it was the animatronic's, your own, or, as you had just said, anyone's.
What you truly wanted, was to be left alone. Left alone to do what you wanted. But the animatronic didn't understand that want, that desire. And that's what set the two of you apart. You would never warm up to the animatronic, but you certainly wouldn't be dead set on hating it if it had at least tried to make you comfortable. Had at least acknowledged your feelings and boundaries. But it hadn't. And it was starting to look like it never would.
At least something to tone down your fever. That would be useful for both you and the animatronic. If you were going to be forced to be awake and forced to do things, the animatronic could at least try to nullify the pain. Could at least… Do a lot of things for you.
You didn't want to suffer through this waking nightmare. Didn't want to be here for whatever horrorish thing would show next. Whatever it took the form of, whether it be illness… Or stress... Or worry...
It was the fuel behind all of this. Something, something always happened with every interaction with the animatronic. It didn't matter what you did or how you acted, something always went wrong. And you just couldn't avoid it. Every outburst weighed down you, leaving you wary.
You felt the animatronic's grip on your forearm loosen, eventually drawing its hand up to its chest. Its pace slowed to a stop as it focused its attention on the faint, blue lighting of a vending machine. Tucked in the corner, hidden behind a few fake plants. Those seemed to be a common reappearance within The Megaplex. But you couldn't be the one to judge the people who had designed the place.
"Per-Perhaps we could get-provide you with-with some-some water-water?" It was not a thought directed toward you. It was not something you had a choice in. "Just-Just some-something to-to have for later-later. We feel-think it'd be-be good-useful to-to have on hand-hand." As stated before, you didn't have a choice in what the animatronic decided. And you didn't have very much influence on the animatronic either.
The animatronic turned toward you, eyeing your weak form. And you only stared back. What else were you supposed to do? "Wait-Wait for us-me, for me, right there-there." You only give it a mumbled reply, and that seemed to be enough for it.
You slouched over, staring down at your torn hands. You could feel the dull ache of pain. Pain that hadn't subsided since you had first messed them up. A freak accident. And, lucky you, it seemed to be a much more serious problem than what could visually be made out.
You could see the redness of your raw skin. The uncomfortable warmness. The ugly pinkness of your flesh. And the glistening shine of your sweaty palms. Gross. You wouldn't be surprised if your hands got infected as well. But it certainly wasn't a thing you wanted to happen. Awful. That would be absolutely awful.
All you wanted to do, was reach the overhang of relief. Sweet, sweet relief. However, what 'relief' included, was too much for you to ask. Another dream. Another false hope for you to cling onto. That seemed to be all you were running on lately.
You pried your eyes away from your hands, unable to stare at them any longer. However, where your eyes wandered to, wasn't much of an improvement. But it was really the only other option available to you.
It was the animatronic. Staring at the different options, though you knew what it would pick in the end. It knew what it would pick in the end. It had said it'd get you water, so why was it staring at the other options? Surely getting anything else would be illogical to it?
Then again, it had already done a lot of 'illogical' things. Kidnapping you was already a shitty example of that. You just wanted to go home. Just wanted to avoid any future pending disasters. You just weren't feeling like it. Weren't feeling up to the challenge of surviving another day in this nightmare. But who were you to decide that? You already knew you weren't the one in control, the animatronic, however, was.
The animatronic finally pressed the water icon, one of the many buttons on the small selective panel. You did have a question. But that question wasn't significant. And therefore, you didn't look into it. It wouldn't be the first demonstration of this… Scenario. But it was, however, a recurring one.
Did the animatronic have to pay? And if not, why? Why were the animatronics, who didn't eat, didn't require sustenance, free to take food whenever they wanted? Able to use all the money-required things? Didn't make sense to you. And essentially, this was another support in the 'How' this kidnapping was even possible. Yeah… Fuck the company.
The water bottle hit the bottom of the small vending compartment with a loud thunk. What was funny, however, was the surprised reaction of Moon. It was nothing more than a small jump, but it was something. Something you wouldn't have expected from the animatronic. Not ever.
The Attendant reached in and grabbed the plastic bottle, dwarfed in its larger stature. No matter how small it might appear while hunched over, it would never be any less scary. Any less powerful. Any less intimidating. It would always be it. And it could do nothing to change that.
It turned toward you, shifting the water bottle to its other hand. As you stared at it, it stared at you. Whereas it was staring at you just for the purpose of needing something to look at, you stared at it for fear of its next move. It was unpredictable, and you didn't trust it for anything.
"Thank you, Toy." You especially weren't trusting it when it wasn't stuttering. That too, was out of the ordinary. Especially for it. You didn't trust it; you couldn't trust it. Not when your stomach cramped up at just the thought of believing it, letting it manipulate you without some kind of fight.
You almost backed away when it took a lazy step toward you. Almost. It felt like instinct to keep your distance from it, to keep it, the root of your recent problems, away. But if you stepped away, avoided it, backed away from it, it'd ask questions. Or it might just get upset. And that, that wasn't very difficult to imagine. Why? Because it wouldn't be the first time it had gotten mad over something so small.
"We-We know-acknowledge following rules isn't-isn't your strong-best suit." Way to insult you. Whether that was the intended purpose, or not, you couldn't help but feel a little prideful in that fact. Good, that meant it acknowledged your constant resistance and loathing in the things it did. "We'll-I'll have to-to work-improve on that-that defect-issue when we-I get the time to-to do-do so."
That 'pride' was instantly hurt. It wasn't a defect; it was just your personal feelings and opinions showing their true colors. And God help you for whatever cruel thing the animatronic had in mind to fix this 'defect.' Anything the animatronic thought of was cruel, twisted, and morally wrong. It wasn't that you were any different. It was just that the animatronic never knew you to begin with.
You couldn't be sure if it had been its tone of voice, or if you were just a touchy person. All you knew was that what it had said, hurt. Not a lot, but a little bit. Maybe just a tiny scratch. Nothing of importance. Something that would heal over within a day or two. You were fine. You knew where you stood, and you weren't going to let that sway you.
The animatronic sauntered forward, its fingers just barely touching the polished flooring. And yet, as close as it was to the floor, hunched and all, it was still just as threatening… If not more. "You-You look-seem to be exhausted-tired, perhaps we-I should carry-transport you-you." If it made one more stupidly obvious observation, you were going to lose it.
That's how it picked you apart. Pointed out the things you already knew, and then built off of that. And you were quickly getting tired of it. And when you said 'it,' you meant everything. You were not in the mood. You had never been in 'the mood' ever since you had realized what had happened. Ever since you realized that some sociopathic animatronic wanted to dote on you in the weirdest ways possible. Either way, the love was unwanted.
Despite the water bottle, the animatronic was able to pull you to its chest and pick you up. It shifted you into one of its arms, carrying your body bridal style. This seemed to be its favorite position to carry you in. In reality, you would much rather it didn't carry you at all. But who were you to complain? It's not like it would actually listen and take the time to adjust and do things to your preference.
It was greedy for your love. Too antsy to get to the end result it so desperately wanted. And because of this, it had really only slowed itself down. It was forcing you to return its twisted love, which really only made you want to push it away.
You wanted nothing to do with it, and it just didn't see that. It was like holding a bubble between your hands. If you went slow enough, the bubble would remain intact. However, if you did the opposite, the bubble was sure to pop. And what did the bubble represent? The possibility of a relationship. That's what. And with every action, with every move, word, sentence, or event that the animatronic did, or participated in, really only lowered the chances of anything happening between the two of you. Anything good that was.
But sometimes you had to give in. Temporarily. It was only temporary. Leaning into the animatronic was temporary. Burying yourself into its fabrics, was temporary. This comfortable feeling wasn't going to last forever. And you knew that. Ever since any of this started, you knew that every feeling you enjoyed, or had once found joy in, would be temporary. And that was a fact.
All you had to do was focus on the good in these situations. And yet, that was harder to do rather than dwell on everything else that you hated. It was something you had to practice doing. It was not something that came naturally. And it definitely did not come naturally to you.
But now you felt obligated to focus on those goods. Obligated to find something. You could pick up on the fact that you felt cozy. Cozy in the light-fluff fabrics. Or perhaps that you didn't have to walk. Maybe it could be that the animatronic wasn't talking to you. Wasn't jabbering away on yet another topic that you just couldn't bring yourself to care about.
If only its mouth got dry. It'd be talking a lot less often than its normal routine of commentary allowed it. You didn't understand why it made useless talk if it was all for nothing. You didn't pay attention to it for the majority of the time you were with it. After these couple of days, you'd have thought that it'd pick up on the signs. On the signs of someone who wasn't listening. Of someone who didn't pay attention to what they said.
But that seemed to be its whole thing. Ignore your feelings, your emotions, your thoughts, and your opinions. But mess around with your body. Use you like the toy they labeled you as. Ignore how you felt on the inside. Or the pain and suffering. That seemed to be what worked for it.
If pain could scream, yours would be endless. Your sore muscles, your burning throat, your teary eyes. It was obvious you were in pain. Pain of all kinds. It could be so much worse, yes, but if you could be helped, then you had every right to bitch. It was self-centered, sure. But the only way you were going to get out of here, was by focusing on yourself. Whether your state of mind focused on making you feel better or decided to screw everyone else over. Your freedom was at stake. You had to take the chance. You had to do what you thought was best. You had to do what was best.
But you weren't doing what was best. Not right now. You were ignoring the animatronic, locking yourself away from the present. It was the easiest way to block out your pain. Was the easiest way to get through this. You had done so much listening before. You had enraged yourself over every word it had said. And maybe, that wasn't good for you. Maybe you just needed to cool down. You know, take a chill pill?
Right. Focus on other things. That's what you had to do. That's what you had been doing. But it was just certain things that got under your skin and picked at your brain. You just wanted to block yourself off from everything around you. And yet, you couldn't. Constantly reacting to the stimuli. That's all it was. That's all life was. A constant reaction to the outside world. Events that shaped the life of a person.
The event, however, that had chosen to shape you, was the one you were currently suffering through. And your constant reactions were based on what the animatronic did. What it did, what it said. And you hated it for that.
But you were still letting it carry you, weren't you? Maybe. 'Letting,' was too much of a generous word for whatever this cursed bullshit was. It would still be holding you despite your protests. If anything, it'd keep you closer, just to spite you. Just to make you hate it more. And all for its own enjoyment too.
You jumped as you felt the cold touch of a water bottle against your arm. Instantly you were trying to push the object away with the back of your hands. You glared at the animatronic's hand before shifting your gaze up to the deadened eyes that seemingly stared down at you. A small grumble, a complaint, just barely left your parched throat. Even to you, the words were indistinguishable. Again.
The animatronic continued staring down at you, cocking its head questioningly. You could see its toothy grin wavering as it stood there. You hadn't noticed that yet. It wasn't walking anywhere, in fact, it had completely stopped. And now, it was just a pointless staring contest. And you knew you'd be the one losing. It was common knowledge.
It was just picking you apart. Watching you for any movements to push it away. Something that might hint at… At something else. Whatever it expected that you might do, you didn't know. But it was calculating those possibilities. It was going to crush every attempt. Or so it thought.
You were going to make sure you got out of here. Whether it be through dumb luck, pure wit, or perhaps even suicide. You were going to be free. So long as it-
You blinked. You blinked and the animatronic wasted no time.
"Are-Aren't you listen-listening to-to us?" Cold irritation filled its voice, and it finally lost its stupid smile. And though you hated the animatronic, you couldn't help but feel like you had disappointed it. It was a feeling you couldn't stand. A feeling that squirmed and wiggled restlessly right underneath your diaphragm.
Saliva fell from its mouth, landing on the back of your hand. That jumped you back to reality for yet the second time.
What had the animatronic said?
"What?" You forced the word to come out loud enough for the animatronic to hear. The hoarseness, however, couldn't be prevented. It would've been embarrassing were you actually paying attention to this conversation. But that was the thing, you weren't. You truly didn't care. And you had no will to show that interest either.
The animatronic brought its hand up to yours, letting out an animated sigh. As if it were attempting to prevent itself from lashing out at you. Funny. It cared about you. The feeling wasn't mutual. And you hoped, you prayed, that it knew that.
The animatronic briefly held onto your wrist, wiping off the saliva that had dropped onto your skin. Gross. They really should get that checked out. It was a wonder they were still allowed to be near kids with such an unhinged organ. Even being allowed to have the appendage was its own absurd story. But you didn't care about that story. You had no reason to.
"N-Not listening to-to us again." It sneered; its stern glare was almost successful in making you feel somewhat bad. But clinging to the absolute hate for it, you ignored the pitiful feeling. "Just-Just another-other behavioral issue-problem to fix-make better." It wasn't a behavior issue. If it took just two seconds to think about anything it had done to you, it'd be a different conversation.
The animatronic began walking again, but that didn't mean you were just going to stop being upset. You weren't going to make the animatronic's task any easier. You weren't going to let it jab at you and get away with it.
If you really mattered so much to them, then why did it feel like constantly poking you with insults? Why did it like purposely upsetting you? If it wanted to get anywhere, it could try actually being nicer. It could try and act like it was actually sympathetic. It didn't have to be real sympathy, but some kind of true attempt could go a long way. "It's not a behavior issue."
The scoff you got from it was almost instant. "Don't-Don't for-forget who the-the one-one holding you is-is." You hadn't forgotten. In fact, it was impossible for you to actually forget a detail like that. A detail that was actively happening. "Do-Do not test-testify what we-we say-do." Something had clearly bitten it because it was undeniably pissed off.
"Why shouldn't I? You don't know everything. Who says that you know any better?" Pushing your luck. You knew you were doing it. But you could barely bite your tongue. You were fed up with its bullshit, it deserved this. It deserved more than just your bitchy attitude. But your throat didn't. You were straining it too much. An idiot's mistake.
"Shut it-it. What's out-out of-of p-place is-is your-your behavior. Bad-Disobedient p-people don't-not get to-to do-do fun things." Pushing its buttons. Had your ignoration really annoyed it that much? Or was it your so-called behavioral issues? You were fine just the way you were. And if the animatronic saw a problem with any of your flaws, then clearly it didn't love you. It was only looking at the good portion of you, and that wasn't what 'love' was.
"I don't care if I can't do fun things just because I'm disobedient. It's my-"
"Don't talk-speak to-to us like-like that-that." You stopped talking almost instantly. You could feel the regret settling in. But you had started this, and you would have to finish it. And if you wanted to finish it, you'd have to stay silent. There was a time to stop talking. That time was right now. "We're try-trying to-to do some-something fun without-out you ruining it-it. J-Just as-as you've d-done every other-other time-time." But the jabs were constant. And those jabs hurt sometimes.
The animatronic turned its body, ramming it into the door as it used the momentum to push it open. Upset. It was upset. And you did not care. You had absolutely no reason to give it an ounce of appreciation. A drop of understanding. It would get nothing from you.
Nothing except the harsh, uncomfortable cramping of guilt.
You didn't give it a reply. You couldn't bring yourself to do so. You had hurt your throat more than intended. It was meant to be a simple statement. A simple hint of retaliation. And yet, that retaliation had you feeling like you were chewing your own tongue.
Swallowing your spit did little in helping your dry throat. And as much as you needed it, you weren't going to ask the animatronic for water. Too awkward. Too much of a potential chance that the animatronic might make the experience absolutely horrible.
You'd rather suffer. You weren't here to let it get the best of you. You weren't here to be pissed off at it. But you just couldn't help the seething hatred. You hated it, loathed it, despised it, but… But you felt guilty. You shouldn't be feeling guilty. Why? Why did you feel bad for lashing out? You had every reason to argue back. Had every right to express your dislike.
And yet you were chewing yourself out. Punching yourself internally. Putting yourself down over a simple feeling. A feeling you shouldn't be feeling. It wasn't right. None of this was. But you couldn't stop your gut from doing whatever it wanted. In its own repulsive way, it was similar to the animatronic. Stubborn. …And oddly persuasive.
Warming up. This was a step closer to it. Feeling this crippling emotion was a step toward listening to it. Toward letting it have you. You couldn't feel bad. You didn't feel bad, that was what you told yourself. But you knew it wasn't true. You couldn't lie to yourself like that without your brain stepping in. Stepping in and turning on yourself.
No. No, the only one here with a behavioral disorder was the animatronic. It was erratic and hostile. It was uncontrolled. At least you had the decency to let it carry you. To prevent yourself from 'acting up.' If it wanted bad, you could show it bad. It wouldn't be too hard to achieve such 'undisciplined behavior.'
The only thing that prevented you from doing that, was what might happen to you. It had hurt you before, and nothing was going to prevent it from doing it again. It was already fuming with agitation, pushing your luck was not worth it. Not with how easily you could make it switch on a dime. But the temptation was still there. It would always be there.
"There's so-so much-a lot of-of fun to be-be had-had." You were surprised you weren't ignoring it again. But you sure wished you were. You didn't want to hear it ramble on and on about something you just didn't care about. It was exhaustive as it was annoying. The commentary you didn't need. The commentary you didn't want. "B-But you d-don't seem to-to care-care for what I-we have-have to offer-show you. You never-never know-expect, you m-might learn something-anything interesting-intriguing if you p-pay attention." You might. But it was right, you didn't care.
You didn't want to learn useless information that you already knew. It had no greater impact on your life, and therefore, you did not care. The greater impact that affected you, that you cared about, was your freedom. The potential to be free. It was all you wanted, all you hoped for. And yet, was something that you had to continue striving toward. Wasn't your pain enough for it? Did it really need your love? Because that seemed to be the very thing that it wouldn't be getting.
"May-Maybe if-if you listen-listened, you m-might act-actually learn a bit-touch of res-respect." Fat fucking chance. It had shown you nothing but intimidation. Respect. It was a concept the animatronic itself didn't understand. You weren't going to learn anything from it. Not if it thought 'respect' was gained through threats. Threats and lies. That's all it was. A liar.
As the animatronic walked over to a door placed on the right side of the area, an automatic greeting played. "Welcome to Mazercise! Work off the calories while you eat. Sign up for a membership pass today! Super cool perks include discounts on-" And so it continued on and on. Food promotion. This was definitely not the place for something like that, but Fazbear's way of marketing things was none of your concern. What was your concern, however, was why the animatronics were able to kidnap people.
But this did bring something to your attention. Hearing the voice of the other animatronic. Could you possibly get help from them? They would help you, right? They'd realize that this was some form of 'Customer Displeasure.' Just… Just something. They'd help you. Right?
If you could get their attention, any of theirs, you'd be going home in no time. The problem was actually running into one of them. There was always Rockstar Row, you knew that was their main place to hang around. You just had to find a way to get to the large area-dedicated space.
Someway, somehow-
"Will-Will y-you please listen-listen to us-me?" Every time you started to drift off to think about something, the animatronic was demanding your attention. Whether it was angry or not. It left you chewing on the inside of your cheek. Not because you were nervous. Rather because you were holding off from provoking yet another bickering session. Not that you were willing to drop the last one just yet.
"I'm listening." You rasped back. What was the point in listening if it didn't give you a proper reason to listen? All it did was talk. Talk about itself, about you, about its plans, but it never gave you any reason to interact. It didn't ask you any important questions. Therefore, you had no real reason to pay attention.
"Thank-Thank you." It walked past the other areas of Mazercise, the other… Key components that made it what it was. "We-I said-told you that we-we plan on-on take-taking you b-back to the balcony-our room after-after this. We-I think-know it might-assures to b-be a good-fantastic idea to-to gr-grab some anti-antiseptic cr-creams and apply-apply them proper-properly." And why did you need to know what it was saying? This was just a waste of your attention span. And that was already running thin. Hadn't it already told you this too? It was starting to feel like déjà vu.
There was a semi-corridor with two different doors, their doorframes lined with bright pink LED lighting. A large fenced-off area obstructed your view of two other doors that you had failed to notice before. However, was noticeable once the animatronic approached the furthest door on the right.
The entrance to the maze. That's what it was. And it practically spelled out that your time for recuperating was up. Fantastic. You could try and make it a fun time, but it would be hard to ignore the biting bile in your stomach. Hard to ignore all the things that brought you down.
It was especially hard to ignore the fact that you had been kidnapped. That was your main source for being so 'depressive,' as the animatronic said. It was slowly ripping the things away that deemed you human. Your social life was one of those things. Your opinion was another. Not to mention your once expansive options for food. Now it was limited to just four places.
You could also go on and on about the secondary impacting fact. Your hands. You had fucked up your hands. You knew they'd scar. They were deep, untended to lacerations. A reminder of this fateful event. A reminder that you were a caged animal.
And then your fever. Your muscles were sore, your throat was dry. You had a slightly runny nose, and your eyes felt unnaturally dry. But what was painful was the long, deep cut that ran through your chest. Its origins didn't matter anymore. What mattered, was ridding it of the infection. Getting rid of the reason as to why you were sick was the best start.
But the animatronic hadn't even started to help you in that department. It spoke of doing so, but it wasn't actively trying to ward off the thing infesting your body. You were dealing with the consequences of leaving something so serious, unattended. It, however, was not.
You just wanted to go home and sleep. You wished that you had never gone to The Pizzaplex. And definitely not on the unfortunate day that led to you getting kidnapped. Nothing was worth any of this. A lifetime of happiness? Absolutely not. Friends that would never leave you? Still no. You just wanted to go home. To go home and forget everything.
The animatronic caught you off guard when it started to kneel down on the floor. You instantly turned to cling to it. However, your plans of holding onto it for support were trampled when pain sparked in the wounds. You only leaned into its body, pressing yourself against it. A pitiful move on your part, but what else were you supposed to do? "What're you doing?" You glared at the floor, not wanting to stand up again.
"Set-Setting you d-down so-so you can direct-direct us through the-the maze-puzzle." But again, you didn't want to stand. The arches in both your feet already hurt from the excessive standing the animatronic made you do. And definitely not with the pathetic state you were in. You could barely stand properly; didn't it see the pain the simple action caused you?
This weakness just proved how pathetic you really were. But what's to say? You were suffering a mid-life crisis, it was a… Plausible excuse. As of now anyway. But it still didn't make you feel better. You were still vulnerable. Still, an easy target for anyone to prey on. Just as the animatronic had done.
It allowed you to get on your feet, holding your upper arm and waist as it attempted to help you stand. Cold hands holding onto you. You wanted it to stop worrying about you. To forget that you even existed.
Another string of incoherent grumbling left you. You tried to push yourself away from its grasp but failed in doing so. It was metal, and you were, in fact, flesh. No match for the atrocious amount of strength that it possessed. A danger in itself.
You leaned against the animatronic, giving up on distancing yourself from it. Goosebumps started to form on your skin, your body losing the warmth of the animatronic's fabrics. What didn't help was the screaming pain in your calf and back muscles. You were barely able to stand properly with the weakening effects of your ailment. But the animatronic didn't care.
It would force you to do what it wanted anyway. And it would continue to pin the blame on 'Not enjoying your time.' What was there to enjoy when you were a suffering ball of hatred? Loathing everything the animatronic forced you to do. Opposing what it wanted to do at every turn and every corner.
The cramping in your body was not helping. Uncontrolled muscle contractions that had you wishing you were laying on the floor. But all you could do was suffer through them. No matter how badly you wanted to collapse on the floor, or at the very least, sit down. But you couldn't. The animatronic wouldn't allow it.
But soon it was out of your control what your calf-cramped body did. Kneeling onto the floor, you leaned against the animatronic. You bundled its shirt in your hands, ignoring the pain of your scabs. So what if you bled again? Your hands weren't going to get any better with the mistreatment of the animatronic anyways.
The animatronic wrapped its hands around your body, hugging you against its cold frame. Wait. Wait and suffer. You wanted to push it away. You wanted to distance yourself. But you couldn't even attempt to get it to back off. You were not about to strain your throat just to spit another sentence of hateful words. You already knew the attempt would be futile. And it didn't take two geniuses to figure that out.
But instead, you were being forced to endure. To endure all of this. Isolated from the outside world. Unable to decide basic things for yourself. Fed you (supposedly) harmful substances on a daily. Forced to overexert your body. Forced to do all these different things you either didn't want to do or just physically couldn't do. But why would you want to do anything for the animatronic? Unless you were being offered your freedom, you'd continue to be a dead weight. Something that the animatronic was better off just cutting loose.
Self-absorbed. Controlling. Stubborn. Nagging. And everything else above.
It was pushing your sanity. Pushing your limits. And yet, you couldn't fight back. The frivolous truth? You were too scared to fight back. You were all bark and no teeth. You didn't have a chance against the animatronic. The most you could do was annoy it into releasing you. Into letting you go. But that was it.
You couldn't just run and hope to escape it that way. You didn't stand a chance. What did you hope to accomplish? The animatronic's seething anger? The long talk about, you know, 'Not trying to escape?' That speech would be absolutely evident if you got caught during your next attempt. What was to come after that, your 'punishment,' however, was not quite as obvious. And you weren't sure if you really wanted that to be revealed either.
"Such a-a sad-pathetic sight-thing you-you are. Hopeless-less might we-we say-observe." It let out a chuckle as it observed your pain. An asshole move. But what's to say? The animatronic was a vile thing, a comment like that, was expected. You were just waiting for the time when the animatronic didn't comment on everything unimportant. Where it would leave you alone to suffer in silence. One day. One night. That's all you wanted. However, that was not what you would ever be getting.
Again, life wasn't fair, was it?
Truthfully, it wouldn't ever be something someone would call 'fair.'
You were pressed into the fluffed fabrics of the animatronic's clothes. You were clinging onto it. Yet you still glared at the hands of the animatronic. The cramps began to subside, but you dared not move. Only someone who wanted a death sentence would move. It was a universal rule.
However, the animatronic was also aware of the subsiding spasms. It must've sensed your relaxing body, the release of tension. "And-And how are-are you-you feeling?" Did it matter how you felt? Because no matter what it did, you'd still feel the same. Horrible. And that was if it decided to put the actual effort into helping you. Which you doubted it would ever actually do.
You finally pulled your hands away from the animatronic, holding them up to your chest. Yet the animatronic still held you close to itself, staring down at you. Staring. You wanted it to look away, to ignore you. You mumbled something in response to the animatronic's question, but again, it wasn't audible. And the animatronic didn't care enough to get you to speak up.
You attempted to stand up, the animatronic instantly moving to help you with the process. So what if you fell victim to more muscle cramps? They were insignificant problems compared to everything else. Everything else that referred to your kidnapping. To the constant doting of the animatronic.
Once you were properly on your feet, you turned away from the animatronic. You didn't want to face it. Didn't want to see it. Didn't want to be here with it. But that wasn't in your control. As much as you desperately wished it was, it wasn't. You had no power here. Didn't have an opinion that mattered. And who was going to listen to that?
Certainly not the animatronic.
You were slowly being stripped of the things that made you human. It was a wonder that you still had some rights. However, that didn't mean you had all of them. And that didn't mean that what you could do was anything actually significant. It was pathetic really. But admitting that hurt more than you were willing to admit.
The animatronic's fingers brushed against your bare forearm, causing you to jump back. You turned to glare at it, crossing your arms the best you could without igniting any more pain. You had felt enough of that.
The animatronic's pupils flicked across your body… Just the slightest of grays lighter. Explorative, curious eyes. Its stare made you uncomfortable. Made you feel icky inside. Made you question just how much the animatronic knew.
You preferred its blank, pupilless eyes. You didn't like how you could tell that it was looking directly at you. Didn't like how it was analyzing you. Watching your every moment. Staring at… You. It was picking you apart so carefully, so delicately. And you hated that feeling. Hated how its dilated pupils never left your body.
"Don't look-feel so frightened-terrified. We don't-don't bite." That was a fat lie. It very much had the potential to. Not to mention that it had even asked to bite you when it had forced you to shower with it. It was a liar, and the two of you knew it. So why did it continue to lie to you?
You ignored the embarrassment tightening in your stomach, pushing aside your hatred with it. The animatronic held out its hand, gesturing for your own hand. Of course. It couldn't go two seconds without touching you, without interacting, without staring.
You were just like every other human. Pathetic. Weak. Fragile. Stubborn. And supposedly, a problem-solver.
Funny.
This thing was made by other humans. It was only as smart as its creators… If not smarter. However, it was limited by its protocols and coding perimeters. But that was the thing. It was a self-sufficient AI. It was programmed to learn. Learn about its surroundings, its environment, the preferences of different people, and the different techniques behind entertaining children.
You placed your forearm in its hand, its fingers instantly wrapping around your skin. And as long as it was touching you, it meant you couldn't go anywhere. Your chances of escaping were quickly dwindling.
And so were your hopes. But the chances of actually getting anywhere were so dumbed down. It was like you were digging a hole six (6) feet deep. If not deeper. Not to mention that you also happened to have forgotten the ladder to get yourself back out. In other words, you were slowly realizing just how fucked you were.
Your hope was rapidly dwindling. It wasn't gone, not completely. The constant stress crushing down on you was not helping. The animatronic was not helping. The threats and ignorance included. You just wanted to go home and forget about all of this. But you couldn't. Going home wasn't going to be happening any time soon. That, however, did take a genius to figure out. Supposedly.
Your skin was hot to the touch, unlike the animatronic's. It was cold. Freezing. Chilly. And you couldn't be sure if you welcomed the forced touch or despised it. You didn't want it to touch you, but its icy temperatures felt… Alright against your sweaty, itchy skin.
Heat rashes had already begun to form on your arms. Itchy patches of dehydrated skin had broken out across your arms and neck. They were like mini hives. Itchy and uncomfortable. Small, blistery lumps had formed across these rashes. Ugly. They were ugly.
Its touch readjusted on you once more, moving closer down to your wrist. "When-Whenever you're ready-able to-to start, T-Toy." It's 'Toy.' Is that what it really thought of you? Because you were going to be fairly honest… It hurt. Every time it called you that, it hurt. You would think you'd be a little more than a 'Toy' to it.
Sure, you were fragile, small, and crushable. And yet, all at the same time, easily ruined. You were its toy, and sure, you played with toys. But any reasonable person would be careful with their things. However, the animatronic was not reasonable. It never had been. And it never would be.
The animatronic didn't care about you. Not like it should be. It cared enough to go out of its way to kidnap you. To spend extra time with you. But it didn't care about your necessities or your wants. Didn't care about your feelings or state of mind. You were, in some ways, important to the animatronic. At the same time, you were a thing it discarded so often, so easily. You were nothing to it, but at the same time, everything.
It was a control freak. The animatronic wanted you to have nothing. Wanted to keep you. To control you. And to break you and your feeble mind until you were but an obedient object to play with.
The animatronic, still hunched over, shuffled closer to you. You might've been able to ignore its touch, but not its presence. You just wanted to suffer alone. But being alone wasn't an option to you.
You wanted to suffer this alone. But there would always be a reminder of your underlying condition. The wheeze in your lungs had you choking down phlegm that kept getting caught in your throat. It was gross. But that was what thick mucus was. It was something you couldn't control. But it could certainly be reduced… By making sure you never got ill in the first place.
Going to Mazercise shouldn't have been the priority. Your injuries, however, should've been the first thing on the list. Things would only get worse. You couldn't properly heal without the right medical care. You wouldn't ever be able to get better if the animatronic decided dragging you around everywhere was the best course of action.
You stepped forward into the maze, the animatronic matching your small step. That was hint enough to you that it wouldn't be letting you out of its sight, that it planned on holding onto you the entire time. Fantastic. Great. Really, it was (not) terrific.
You looked around the dimly lit area. You assumed it had turned off some of the lights to prevent itself from switching. It was only proof that they both were scrambling for control. Whether it was because they wanted to spend time with you or wanted to spend their time in control of their body, was unknown to you.
But it didn't affect you. Either way, you were still 'theirs.' Their 'Toy,' their 'thing.' To you, they were the same thing. They had the same mindset. They had the same goal. They just had different personalities and thought processes. At the core, they were the same thing. And that was a hill you were willing to die on.
The different colors of the walls easily caught your attention, the pathways shadowed with the different variants of color. It was… Disorientating. This would've been easier in the light. But you couldn't bring yourself to stall any longer. Couldn't bring yourself to talk. Couldn't bring yourself to attempt to convince it into doing what you wanted. Too weak to do anything. That's what you were.
"Go on-on. Mazes don't solve-complete them-themselves." At least it could have the decency to wait for you to decide what to do. Hey, at least you were trying. You were so ready, so willing to just give up. To drop to the floor and wait for the consequences of your actions to claim you. But you hadn't done that, yet. You were giving it a chance. You were trying. And to you, that was something. Something you just wanted to give up on.
You walked straight ahead to the split in the pathway. Your end goal was off to the right, so at some point, you'd have to go right. There was a forced right at the end of the main path, however, it was up to you to decide if diverting off the pathway right now was the right choice.
You went right.
There was a difference between mazes on paper and mazes in person. You could see the course of the maze from a bird's eye view. However, in situations like this, you couldn't. And so what? All you had to do was get through this one maze. Just this one and then the animatronic would let you rest. It had said so itself. And you would be absolutely livid if it didn't stick to what it said. You were looking forward to sitting down and doing nothing. To sleeping. To finally get some sort of relief.
The animatronic matched you step for step, pacing itself with your smaller, weaker body. It was annoying. But you weren't going to say anything. Pissing off the animatronic any more than you already had was not a good idea. Even if the idea was tempting, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Didn't have the willpower to do so.
You blamed your bitchy attitude on the stress. The stress of ruining your hands yet again. The stress of walking on your weak legs. The stress of the fever. The stress of an unexpected outburst from the animatronic. The stress of adjusting.
Adjusting to this new environment. To this new diet you had unwillingly adapted. To the sudden, and drastic changes of your sleep schedule. To this loss of control over yourself. To the loss of your freedom. You were just getting used to it all. Right?
Ha. Look at you being absolutely hilarious. Coping. You were coping. You knew you hated this. You knew you hated the animatronic for what it had done. You knew exactly how you felt. It was putting those feelings into words, into actions. It was the problem of pushing away those bitter feelings. It was the problem of accepting this.
You stopped at the next split in the maze, looking back at the animatronic. It stared back. Waiting for you to speak your mind. Whether it be another complaint full of loathing, or a genuine question, it was listening. It would always be listening. "Do you know the layout of the maze?" A faint whisper, but enough for the animatronic to make out your words.
"We don't-don't. B-But if-if needed, we-I c-could." Right. Whatever it meant by that. You looked back at the two paths you were supposed to be deciding between. You were aware of the animatronic staring at you, its gaze making your skin itch more than it already was.
You decided to go left. If you turned right, you'd be walking parallel to the original path. Not that it was bad. But rather that it felt like you'd be backtracking. However, if this was the wrong choice, you'd quickly figure that out. Or so you assumed.
You were relying mainly on your gut feeling. It existed for a reason. That didn't mean it was right all the time. But what else were you supposed to do? Overthink yourself to death? Wait for the animatronic to prod you into choosing? You didn't feel like it. And were definitely not in the mood.
You had done these mazes a lot. It was the only reason you actually went to Mazercise. Well, that and the food. If they were going to make it a workout place, they should not be advertising food. But you weren't the only one who had been lured by the prospect.
They had a whole membership that solely focused on promoting unhealthy eating habits. Not that you had signed up or anything. It was just that they mentioned it so often. That they tried to promote it. You'd think a gym-like attraction would be selling gym memberships. That they'd be promoting healthy dietary habits. That was, however, definitely not the case. Not with how often they promoted their greasy pizza.
Sure, maybe you'd grab a slice or two when you were hungry, but that wasn't how you spent your time. No, it was the mazes that had your attention. You had done so many of them, and they had never taken more than fifteen-some minutes to complete. It was completely randomized every time, which was a bigger bonus for you.
It was your main attraction of choice. Sure, riding go-karts was fun, but so often they had to shut down for days at a time. And, on top of that, there was no variety. All you did was go around the track and attempt to beat other people. It was good for a little competition, but it was the same track, with the same obstacles.
Then there was Fazer Blast. It was fun. You liked spending your time there. But you could only run for so long before you were out of breath. It was also really easy to get frustrated. And if you fell behind in points, it was often extremely difficult to catch back up. The winners were often determined on the performance level of the teams at the beginning of the round.
And Gator Golf? It was a golf area, and golfing by yourself was boring. Golfing with a group you didn't know, was awkward. It was better when you had multiple, laid-back people. People who wouldn't be bouncing off the walls within seconds. People who weren't dry talkers. People who could make anything fun. That was, without being a jittery ball of energy.
Repetition wasn't bad. But not all fun things remained enjoyable forever.
The next decision was between yet another two-way. You hadn't come across any dead ends… Yet. You were having decent luck with guessing. With trusting the option that didn't make you feel worse than you already did. All you had to do, was get through this. And then, the animatronic would do as it promised. It had promised. It had said so. All you wanted, was relief. Sleeping, resting, relaxing. Something that didn't require movement. Something that didn't require brain power. Something that didn't require anything from you.
The animatronic followed you down your chosen path. Right. You had gone right. The soft bells and cold touch were the only signs that it was right behind you. You were surprised it hadn't made some stupid comment about anything you had done. Or that it hadn't started speaking gibberish. Not that you wanted it to talk. Not that you wanted it to bore you to death. It was just… Surprising for the animatronic.
Your next turn was a three-way. You could continue going down the path or turn onto one of the paths on either side. Continuing down would mean technically going right. You could just barely see the turn, but you figured that it wouldn't just end. So, you decided that your eyes weren't deceiving you. You hoped not. It would be embarrassing if you walked straight to a dead end. Especially with the animatronic right behind you.
You briefly glanced at the path on your left, but you were fully prepared to start walking down the one on your right. You walked down to the turn, rounding the corner. A wall. A dead end. Should've expected that with how straightforward it had been.
The animatronic was staring at you. But you had expected that. The animatronic let go of your forearm, stepping back to give you space. "B-Better luck next-next time." You couldn't tell if it was being truly optimistic or was just trying to rile you up. Again.
That seemed to be one of its favorite activities. Prod you for your reaction. Poke fun at you. Tease you. Except, it never did any of these in a joking manner. It was intended to hurt you. To make you purposely feel bad about yourself.
You would never tell it that what it said hurt. That was its goal. In its own cruel way, it wanted you to hate it. It wanted to get you to hate it, but at the same time, it hated when you spoke back. It was indecisive. Or rather, it had its goals set on a path too specific for you to follow. And it couldn't see that.
The animatronic considered you 'theirs.' So, if you were 'theirs,' then that meant that you were their problem. That they should have to deal with who and what you were. They couldn't force you to be someone you weren't. And they couldn't shape you into a new 'Thing' no matter how hard they tried to reform you.
You were their problem. You were who you were. And it was going to have to deal with that. Whether it liked your reasoning or not. You just wanted your freedom back. And you were willing to do a lot to get it back. Some… More than others.
But you had suffered through all these years, you had survived this long. You weren't going to go down like this. This was your life, and you weren't about to just give yourself up. Giving up. You couldn't do that. You wouldn't do that.
You walked past the animatronic, making your way back to the main hallway just before the dead end. You could hear the bells on the animatronic's wrist and shoes jingle as it turned to face your direction. Directly behind you. It was directly behind you. You could feel its shadow being cast over you. Creepy. It had no reason to be creepy. It had already done enough of that.
Its mechanisms ticked idly, but you had grown accustomed to the background sound. This was not true silence. It would never be truly silent when the animatronic was around. But every time you were alone… You wished for company. Something, someone that wasn't the animatronic. Perhaps another person you could talk to. Someone who wasn't as annoying as the automaton was.
Or at least go without the restraints. You could go with being alone if you weren't tied up. Tied forearm-to-forearm. Ankle-to-ankle. Gagged up. As if you were a danger to yourself. A danger to the non-existent people around you.
You glanced behind you at the animatronic. There was a time and place for everything. And there was always a chance to be convincing. "I don't want to do this anymore." You whispered. You knew it heard you. The animatronic was staring down at your pathetic body, its faceplate idly turning around its head as it thought about your request.
"You-You're not discouraged-put off be-because you made-decided one-one wrong t-turn, are-are you?" Discouraged. The animatronic was funny. Could it really not see how weak you were? How sick you were? It was painful to stand. It was painful to do anything. Your body protested every movement. You were not discouraged; you were in pain.
"No." What else was there to say? What else could you say? What else could you bring yourself to say? Your throat burned with each word. Raw, dry, and filled with thick mucus that didn't belong. It was gross. But oftentimes, grossness was the best way to get your point across.
"Fine." Hissed the animatronic. It stood straightening its posture. Crossing its arms, it glanced behind itself. "We'll leave-leave if-if you do-do some-something for-for me-us." Great. And what could you possibly do for it? That was, other than being a bitch and finding ways to make it question its choices. But clearly, you hadn't been doing a good enough job with that. Why? Because you were still here. Weren't you?
"What do I have to do?" Maybe you did need some of that water. You glanced down at its hand. And, surprisingly, it still held the water bottle. You would've expected some kind of pocket or… Something. Carrying it around everywhere, rendering a hand partly useful. It seemed like a waste. And maybe a little exhaustive, if you were going to be honest.
The animatronic glared at you, its smile finally dropping. The smile it wore so often, was gone. It was like a person who typically wore glasses had just taken them off. You could tell it was the same person, but it just didn't look right. Not to you. "It is-is a-a yes or no-no question-proposition."
And that wasn't ominous at all. You could be signing your death wish by saying 'Yes.' But you would also be forced to continue suffering if you said 'No.' But you couldn't stand for much longer. You were so close to just giving up and collapsing on the floor. "Yes." But that would be embarrassing. And who knew how the animatronic would respond to that event?
"As-As you say-wish. We-We can always-always try-attempt this-this some other time-time. Per-Perhaps we could-could also-also try something-thing else." The animatronic stared down at you. Judging you.
It was judging you. Harshly.
"Come on-on, Thing-Thing, let's g-go."
Chapter End Notes
We rapidly approach some exciting events.
I hope you're all prepared for what I have in store.
Discord Link: (Available for those who want announcements, polls, theories, social interaction, etc.)
https/discord.gg/zA437hyq6N
Recuperation
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
It wasn't anything bad that it had gotten you to do. If not beneficial to you.
It was fine. You were fine. Everything was fine. That was, as fine as it could get here. It was just an accident. It was all an accident. A mistake. You were just overthinking things. You just needed to destress. Had to focus on yourself. Ignore the animatronic.
Ignore the sole reason as to why you were stuck in such a problematic problem. As to why you were currently running lukewarm water over your hands. The reason to why you had even tried to escape in the first place. To why you were even here.
Push past the pain. The reason. Reasons. This was beneficial to you. You could suffer through this. It wasn't that bad. And even so, it would help in the process of 'getting better.' That was your main priority. It should've been your main priority. You had come down with a nasty fever because of your wounds.
It was hindering you. And it hurt. You had been bearing the aching dull in your chest and shoulder. But even you couldn't say that it didn't hurt. Because it did. And that wasn't even including the other symptoms of your stupid fever. The fever that originated from your infected wound. The wound that came from the animatronic. Or, so you assumed. Even if it wasn't their fault, they could've at least tried to take care of the injury.
At least.
The animatronic's reflective exterior kept catching your attention as the light shined into your eyes. It was only instinctive to find the source of the thing that had caught your attention. Was it not? It was just human nature, to be aware of any possible dangers. The difference with this situation, was that you were constantly in danger. In need of assistance.
You heard the slam of a cabinet door off to your left. It was just the animatronic, sure, but it was the animatronic. You couldn't trust it. Didn't want to trust it. If there was one thing it couldn't have, it'd be your trust. There was so much meaning behind a single word. And yet, it was equal to any other word. Just a word used to describe. A word used to tell a story. A word to get a point across.
A jingle of bells. The animatronic. Near. Far. Close. Distant. It was all the same to you. You were still in its presence. Still a victim. A worthless, pitiful one at that. You meant something to the animatronic. It did so much for you. But it also did so much to you.
But that was the thing. The feelings of hatred were stronger than the ones of forgiveness. You despised the animatronic. No matter what it did for you, you'd always remember the pain it had caused you. You wouldn't forgive it. You wouldn't let those hateful feelings go.
So, you would have to put up with its behavior until you were finally free. Finally out of its clutches. Out of reach.
Another loud, and quite unnecessary slam off to your left. Again. You glanced over at the animatronic, watching it pick through the cabinets. It opened another cabinet, but this time it didn't slam it closed. It looked at itself in the mirror, staring for a good second or two before going back to its search. What it was looking for, you didn't know. And neither did you really care.
It was leaving you alone, wasn't it? This seemed like a win for you. For now, that was. It was obviously looking for something. Whether the item it needed, or rather, wanted, involved you, left you feeling wary. It could be nothing good, or it could be something of little importance.
You just needed to push your worry aside. Focus back on yourself. Let the animatronic do what it wanted. You just had to keep to yourself. Prevent something dumb from happening. Obey. Don't give it a reason to hinder you. Don't give it a reason to start insulting you. Or argue with you. Or play around with you. Remain neutral to it. That's what you wanted.
But was it that you would ever get?
No. You wouldn't.
It just hurt too much. The sting in your hands. The droplets making their way into the crevices of the scars. Your soft, sensitive skin was not ready to be touched or messed around with. It would continue to be like that for the next couple of days. You were positive about that.
You could see the twitch in the tips of your fingers. A sign that you were resisting to pull away. A sign that you were in pain. But the animatronic would be upset if you pulled away so soon. It had told you it wanted the wounds as clean as they could get with water.
Wait. Just wait. That's all you had to do. You could do that.
That was dependent on how long you had to wait. It could be mere minutes. It could also be a seemingly endless number of minutes. It all depended on what the animatronic decided. You were just reacting to its threats and meaningless words. You could only do that for so long before you finally gave up. Before you gave up, and did what you wanted to do. But you knew that never ended well. It was the strife between two beings that were both reaching for control.
You glanced at the animatronic in the mirror, which had stopped its search, and now stood behind you. Through the mirror, you could see your own pain written in your body language. Was it really so obvious? Or was it your paranoia over-thinking things once more?
The animatronic brought its hands behind its back as it properly stood upright. You didn't need to see its pupils to know it was staring right back at you. The burning sensation creeping on your skin was enough evidence of that.
You didn't trust it enough to take your eyes off it. But that feeling was mutual. You had caught it staring at you more times than you could count. And certainly, more times before it had realized it had been staring for far too long.
You had grown accustomed to that odd sensation. Far too accustomed. It was a whole new pit of fear that opened up at that thought. It was as if you felt guilty. But what was there to feel guilty for? You hadn't done anything. Not yet anyway. You planned on it, sure. But what could you have done?
Was it because the animatronic didn't trust you? Was that why it always had its eyes on you? Just because it didn't trust you? That feeling was mutual.
But the animatronic should be smart enough to know that you wouldn't dare try anything so soon. Unless you were completely out of your mind, you wouldn't dare push your luck any further. Not that you really had any to begin with.
You were a moron who managed to get their hands caught on a vent. You would've expected light, easily healed scratches at most. But that was not the case. Obviously.
The animatronic finally broke eye contact. It looked toward the door before refocusing its attention back on you. "We-I need-have to retrieve-get the necessary-essential anti-antiseptics I-we'll be using-applying." Oh, fantastic! It was finally going to start taking care of its sickly, human pet. Right. Because that's how it thought of you. "St-Stay put. D-Don't do any-anything we wouldn't-would not allow-permit." Didn't plan on it. There were better things to do rather than mess up miserably.
What were you going to do anyways? Open a door and reopen, yet again, your lacerations? You could barely move them. Even the tips of your fingers were numb.
The consequences weren't worth the effort. The consequences weren't worth anything. It was better to wait and gain its trust. It had told you that it didn't trust you. Pushing your luck would only be an idiot's move. Not that you weren't an idiot. But it was better to at least try to be smart about it.
The only problem was that rebuilding trust took time, and it took interaction. You wanted to get out of here as soon as you could. And definitely in the safest manner as well. You would rather not lose a limb.
And interacting? The animatronic's personality did not coincide with your own. It was hard to let it order you around. To let it talk with meaningless banter. You weren't the person for that.
But it wasn't your choice. You were the one who was trapped here. You were not the one in control. As much as you wished you were, you weren't. And truthfully, would never be. Not when you were the victim of the acts committed by the automaton.
You just wanted to get out and go home. And from then on, relax. Relax and recuperate. Let your hands heal. Take care of the other small scratches and nicks that littered your body. Let the bruises fully heal. Let the ugly coloring turn back to your 'normal.'
Lay back and relax. Something you couldn't do here.
Instead, your muscles were constantly tensed up. Were often strained with the position the animatronic chose to tie you up in. Tying your forearms behind your back left your shoulders feeling numb, left your spine feeling sore. Sore. Stiff. Numb. Useless.
You needed to find a solution around that. One that was permanent. And one that worked while you were knocked out with the Moondrops. Not that you wanted to take the dastardly candy. It was just gross. Especially since you didn't trust them.
Not after the Sunnydrop situation.
Whatever had been in those, had completely messed you up. It had felt like adrenaline had taken over your body. Except, the effects were worse. Enhanced should you say. And when you had been tied up like that…
You had been unable to move. Unable to spend the unnecessary energy that was coursing through your body. It had been a mental strain. A skull-aching headache. That was what it had been. Even now, that ache lingered. But it wasn't nearly as bad. And to you, that was a relief in itself.
You also noticed that it had left your body exhausted. Lingering exhaustion, that was.
Like right now.
You had to prop your elbows on the counter and let your wrists go slack, all because you couldn't bear to strain your shoulders to properly hold them out. It was a combination of not having enough energy, and not being able to properly feel them. A two-in-one problem. You fix one thing; you still suffer the consequences of the other. There really wasn't a 'winning' to this.
But you could definitely avoid the Sunnydrops. Obey. Don't ask stupid questions. Don't do anything that might get you stuck in a sticky situation. Don't provoke the animatronic. Don't annoy the animatronic.
It was a long list of 'Don'ts.' But how else were you going to ensure you didn't ever set eyes on the thing again? You couldn't get rid of them. Like, honestly, what would you do? Throw them off the balcony? The bag would still be somewhere far down below. And at what point in time could you do that? It, the animatronic, would always be too close to you for you to be able to do something like that.
Really. It was all a game of 'Don't Hinder Yourself.' And so far, you seemed to be on the losing side.
And yet, even through all this whiplash of thinking, the animatronic still stood. It waved its hand in front of your face, catching your attention. "Have-Have you heard-listened to wh-what we-I s-said?" Oh, you heard it. You just didn't bother to give it a response. At least, not then. You weren't trying to cause problems right now. Couldn't even bring yourself to do so even if you wanted to.
"I did." You mumbled, letting your gaze drift down to the running water. Watching as it pelted the raw skin. Ugly. Gross. Painful. The animatronic nudged your arm with its colder hand, causing the water to hit a newly formed sore spot in the center of your palm.
"And?" The animatronic nudged your arm again, eliciting a sharp inhale from you. "P-Painful?" The animatronic chuckled as it watched you withdraw your hands from the sink. The once warm water turning cold as it was exposed to the frigid air.
You glared at the animatronic as you kept your hands close to you, allowing your warm breath to help keep your hands from getting too cold. "No. No, I won't do anything idiotic." You hissed as you flexed the muscles in your hand, that sore spot sending a fresh wave of stiffness into your joints.
The animatronic stared for a few moments more before turning to leave, however, it called out to you before it completely left. What caught you off guard, was the use of your name.
"Please. Please don't-don't do-do anything-thing. Sunshine has-has something they-they want to-to show-present to you. I don't w-want that-that s-surprise to be ruined-messed up." You only stared at it. Unsure of how to respond. Unsure if you should respond. The animatronic only needed your acknowledgment, however. It closed the door behind itself, off to get what it needed.
It was suspicious. But at the same time, it seemed genuine. It hadn't called you one of its pet names. Hadn't called you something so… So degrading. Something that left you feeling inhuman.
Was it done preying on you? At least, for the time being? Was it starting to realize that it had been doing everything wrong? It… That didn't mean you forgave it. But it definitely meant that you were one step closer to getting out of this hell. One step closer to having a little freedom. That the animatronic would be less… Infuriating.
You hoped so. You needed it. Wanted it. You were in need. Needy. But at the same time, you didn't want it. Independent. Stubborn. You. It was you that you were fighting. So why did you try so hard to convince yourself?
You knew what you wanted. You knew what you needed. And at this greater time, you couldn't be lying to yourself. You needed to know where you stood. You needed to know yourself. You needed to be who you were. You wanted a shot at escaping. That was all you had to focus on.
Left alone with yourself. But was that such a good idea when you were starting to doubt the most loyal, most trusted person you knew? Yourself?
Seeking out the animatronic's help hurt. You told yourself that you could do it on your own. But was that true? All you knew was that it hurt every time you had to rely on the mechanism. Ruined your morale. Ruined your perception. You knew the goal you had in mind. You knew the goal you had to achieve.
Freedom.
It was your distant dream. Where your sense of ease was. The release of your strenuous tension. You just had to hold to what you knew. The animatronic still thought of you as an object of play. One use of your name. That was all it was. One use of 'pleasant' wording. One time. It was not enough.
So why were you feeling doubtful? Why were you turning on yourself? Deny the lies. Deny the false usage. Deny everything that wasn't right. You could do that.
Couldn't you?
Maybe. You were a stubborn, defiant person. And yet, you were helpless and in pain. And, with only a single seed of doubt, you were turning on yourself. You were trying so hard to deny the truth, what you knew. But why? Why were you doing this to yourself?
You looked down at your hands, the red, swollen areas seemed to have calmed down. Only a little bit. They were still ugly. Still noticeable. But they weren't nearly as bad. Was it worth it, however?
Not really.
You looked at the center-row benches. You needed to sit down. You needed to let your sore calves have a break. If only for a couple of minutes, it'd at least be something. You stumbled to the wooden piece, letting it take your body weight.
You just wanted to get over this muscle-deteriorating fever. The fever that had so violently taken hold of your body. And it was all because the animatronic hadn't taken proper care of your wounds. You were suffering the consequences. The lack of proper care.
And if the animatronic didn't do something, it'd lose oh-so-valuable you. What a tragic loss. It'd be such a shame.
You could only hope that if you did die, the animatronic would feel absolutely horrible about it. It'd be worth it. At least, you felt that it was worth it. However, that was just your opinion. And an opinion was meant to be seen specifically by the eye of the beholder.
This was all a disaster that could've been avoided. If it had just taken proper care of you. If it hadn't been so neglectful, it could've avoided this whole situation. It could've provided you some form of relief. But now, it was stuck with what you were. With what you had come to be.
You were just a pathetic, sick 'Thing.' And yet, it only had itself to blame. All you had done, was live your life. All you had done, was do what you could do. Endure. Endure the illness. Endure the pain.
It was going to get infected sooner or later. Especially with the way the animatronic had been treating you. No, not verbally. And not physically. You were talking about its negligence. It had put this off. It had known. And yet, it had done nothing. Nothing.
And now it was beginning to fester. Was starting to turn sour. Was starting to show its ugliness. Its grossness. And yet, you were stuck with it. Stuck with it until your body began to recover. Until the infection was properly treated.
This was more evidence that you shouldn't do anything stupid. You needed that antiseptic to be applied properly. And you could only ensure that if you were awake. If you were aware. Which meant you couldn't be sleeping. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't. You just couldn't.
You stretched your fingers once more as the stiffness began to properly settle in. It hurt, straining your flesh the way you did. But the feeling of the stiff, soreness was worse. It felt like your joints were locking up. Left your bones feeling oddly… Heavy. You couldn't stand the feeling. Especially when you were actively aware that they were stiff. That they were locking up.
But you had to deal with it. It was your body. Your problem. And, because the animatronic had roped itself in, was responsible for making sure the incisions properly healed.
It had said it itself, you needed stitches. But they didn't have stitches. And they couldn't get stitches. Obviously, it wouldn't have been as upset as it had been if that were not the case. And so, it was stuck having to keep a close eye on the split flesh.
Though it wasn't too good at preventing the small incidents that had caused the scars to be reopened. Which didn't seem to be… Proper. Though what was it to do? You had caused your own hindrance. And so, you couldn't say anything. Couldn't complain. Couldn't argue back. Your slow healing progress was your own fault. You were the only one who could be blamed.
At least, for your hands. Your chest cut was not your fault. That was the animatronic's own fault. You were not to be blamed for that one. You were not going to take responsibility for that one.
Right. You had already been over this with yourself, hadn't you? There was no point in dwelling on whose fault it was. All that mattered, was that it existed. That it had happened. And that you were about to get antiseptic medicines to aid in your treatment.
It was just awful luck that you had managed to get here. That you were in this awful state. It might take a little bit of 'luck' to help you get out of here. However, you hadn't been coming across that. Point proven, your hands and the vent.
You just needed to wait. Wait until the right moment. Wait until you actually had a chance. But it was an antsy feeling that made you impatient. That impatient mindset set you up for failure. It made you act stupidly. But you couldn't seem to do anything about it. Because all it did, was tie your stomach in a knot. It made you indecisive.
Just two things you needed to focus on. Sleep and medical treatment. You needed to heal up. You needed to let your hands heal. You needed to be able to use them as soon as you could.
You also needed to recover from the fever. Everything was sore, even doing the simplest of tasks left you breathless. The mucus that kept getting caught in your throat, made it hard to breathe properly. It also gave you the icky reflex one got when they needed to cough.
Sometimes it felt like you were choking on a piece of food that got stuck in your throat. Or as if a bump had formed in your throat. And each time you swallowed; you could feel the difference. Gross. Icky. Disgusting. But it was factual.
At least that was something you knew for a fact. Something you could trust was happening. Because in the animatronic's world, you felt lied to. Deceived. As if nothing was to be trusted. But what could you do against it?
That reoccurring answer. It always seemed to make its way back around. Because it was nothing. You could do nothing.
You hung your head, letting your brain do what it did best. Think. Whether it be overthinking, or perhaps rethinking, it was still thinking. Going over the details. Reviewing the facts. Putting them into play. Thinking through the different scenarios. The possibilities. The differences. The answers. The situation. The reasons.
And then, a soft jingling of bells. It caught your attention because you knew the source. The animatronic. It was back. Closer and closer that soft sound got, and then, the pattern was broken. It was the same moment the door was pushed open.
In one of its hands, it held two different tubes. One with the signature color of white, the bold lettering colored red. The other, however, was a sloppy mix of white, yellow, and red. White and red. Both were common colors in the medical industry. Not that you minded. Just a detail you happened to notice.
The animatronic's gaze landed on you, its faceplate tilting in your direction. Its smile was seemingly wider than usual. However, that might've just been you. It pushed past the door, sauntering over to you in its familiar hunched-over position. It knelt down in front of you, discarding one of the tubes. That being the white, red, and yellow one.
It cracked open the cap, peeling of the tin layer on top. It rubbed some of the ointment onto its fingers before focusing its attention on you once more. "Hands." It held out its hand in a gesture for your own. You looked at it warily as you gave it your wrist.
You looked away as you felt its cold fingers lightly touch a spot near your thenar muscle. You resisted the urge to tense up. You resisted the urge to pull your hand away.
You'd only be making things worse for yourself. You just needed to relax. You just needed to let the animatronic do what it needed to.
You stifled a gasp as its fingers rub over the main incision. The one that ran from the webbing between your thumb and index finger all the way over to the other side of your palm.
The animatronic quickly made its way to the incisions on your fingers. Other than the expected pain, everything had gone… Alright. It was when the claws of the animatronic dug into the torn flesh of your middle finger, that you tried to pull away.
The animatronic quickly let your hand go, a surprised look of its own as it held its hands up and away from you. Keeping them close to its chest, it eyed your hands. "So-So sorry. Shining Star-Sun wants out-out." It grumbled to itself as it glared at… Something. "N-Not your turn-turn." Talking to its other.
It was at a time like this that you wondered if they loathed each other. Clearly, they fought for control. Clearly, they both wanted control. And neither of them spoke positively of each other. Were they sick and tired of each other? Or did they struggle to agree on common themes?
Except you. They seemed to agree on you. Your pitiful combination of useless disobedience seemed to be what they loved about you. You just seemed to be the combination that they so openly had a hate-love relationship with. A combination they adored. A combination that also seemed to tick them off all too often.
The animatronic reapplied the ointment to its fingers, gesturing for your other hand. "So-So sorry. We're al-almost d-done." You stared at its hand which was gesturing for your own. You stared at it, hesitantly placing your other wrist in its hand.
The animatronic started off slow, carefully massaging the antiseptic into your cuts and scars. Painful as it was, you let it do just that. You just needed to get this over with. You needed this. And now, you needed to suffer through the pain before you were met with the sweet embrace of relief.
With careful movements, it rubbed the padded parts of its fingers against the lacerations. And eventually, it was done. Eventually, its cold exterior was off your skin. Your hot, sensitive, rashy skin.
You had to admit. It didn't feel bad. In fact, it had helped. Somewhat. Though, you wouldn't ever ask for it to touch you. Absolutely not. Not if you could help it.
The animatronic stood up, moving toward the sink. It began to wash off the excess antiseptic. A reminder of its silicone exterior. Water wasn't going to be an effective option in your escape. You could try to ruin it, sure, but that was the animatronic you'd be touching. You were positive it wouldn't let you mess with anything like that.
Right. So, you had to think of something else. The real question was, what could you use? The other things you could think of were either nearly impossible to get, or too farfetched. There must be something, you just had to find that alternative.
The animatronic eventually turned back toward you, once more kneeling in front of you as it capped the tube. You finally got a good look at the red lettering. Polysporin. So, it was using infection protection for your hands. That… Made sense.
Before you could catch a glimpse of the other antiseptic's wording, the animatronic snatched it up. It discarded the Polysporin as it broke open the lid of the secondary tube.
It reached toward the second to the top button of your shirt, tapping it with the tip of its finger. "M- May I- I?" Asking. Didn't matter. You needed it. You merely shrugged, turning your head to glare at the floor. You could feel your heart rate picking up as the cold silicone of the animatronic brushed against your skin.
"Go for it." You let the words escape your messed-up throat. You could feel the voice crack in your throat as you spoke. Hoarse, forced words. But understandable.
You felt the button come loose as the animatronic slipped it through the slit-shaped hole. Another button quickly following after the first. The animatronic pulled your shirt down toward the infected area, something you didn't want to look at. You didn't want to know how bad it was. How ugly it looked. How… Bad it was.
It undid one more button before applying the white-pasted cream onto its fingers. It cast aside the oddly colored bottle before it pulled your shirt back to reveal the heated opening. It pressed its cold fingers onto your skin, a dull ache radiating throughout the area.
You could feel the blisters as the animatronic rubbed the antiseptic in. Each touch, poke, prod, and graze had you holding your breath. It hurt. Your hands flexed instinctively at the pain the cold touch elicited. It was painful. Painful, but sure to be worth it. You'd get better. You'd break the fever. You'd heal up.
That was, if you didn't do anything that would completely fuck over those chances.
The animatronic eventually pulled away, standing up as it finished rubbing the cream into your skin and flesh. It walked back over to the sink, once more washing off its fingers and hands. Funny how it used soap too.
It stared at the two antiseptic tubes on the floor before moving to pick them up. It closed the lid of the secondary tube; the label was too small to properly read. The animatronic opened a cabinet, placing the two antiseptics inside.
Then it focused its gaze on you. It cocked its faceplate as it stared at you. It picked you up, deciding to hold you bridle style. However, you were switched to just one of its hands as it used the other to rebutton your shirt. Again, it left that top button undone, allowing you some breathing room. Which, to say the least, you really needed.
It walked out of the shower room, turning off the one active light in the room. It started down the corridor, heading toward the familiar set of stairs. The set of stairs that got the two of you from the Employee Rooms, up to the main entrance of the pizzaplex.
You could feel sores beginning to form on your wrists where the animatronic had taken hold to keep you steady. More bruises to worry about. Yay. Wasn't your excitement just absolutely contagious?
The animatronic made quick work of the stairs, pausing at the top as it shook its head. "Antsy. Ant- Antsy." Commented the animatronic. Though it wasn't directed toward you. You knew that. You hadn't done anything. And it certainly wasn't paying any mind to you.
The animatronic pushed past the door, making its way to the set of stairs that led to the 'Superstar Daycare Pick-up.' It was a door tucked behind the gift shop's upper-level entrance. A wonder parents could actually find the entrance on their own.
The room before the actual daycare was your favorite part. You'd admit that. The background noise of the water fountain… The darker atmosphere. It was calming in its own way.
It would certainly be better if the animatronic was out of the picture. Its jingling bells. Loud ticking. Cold touch. Too close for comfort presence. For you, it ruined the entire area. But that was just your simmering hatred for the animatronic. No place would be the same with it around.
You attempted to curl in on yourself as you felt a cramp begin to take hold of your stomach. Uncomfortable. It was uncomfortable, but not painful.
The animatronic opened the shafted door, making sure to close it back up behind itself. It kept people out. But it also kept people in. And guess how you knew? Experience. First-hand experience.
The animatronic went through the lobby, filled with furniture. A tv played a Moondrop advertisement, but you didn't care enough to actually pay attention. The animatronic made quick work of the stairs that led down to the medieval-themed doors.
Closer and closer.
The second it made its way into the play area of the daycare; it called down its hook. It hooked it to the loop on its backside. Almost instantly, the animatronic was being dragged up into the air. You let out a pitiful jumble of complaints as you stared down at the floor, which was rapidly growing farther and farther away.
And then it was on the balcony. It turned around and stepped down into the room. It looked down at you, the blue LEDs reflecting off its eyes. "What was that?" It had never cared about your complaining before. Odd that it was now.
So very odd.
"My throat hurts." You mumbled. Not that it was your main complaint, but rather, the most important one you had to offer. You ignored the strain in your voice, instead clearing out the build-up in your throat. You were slowly losing your voice. With every word, every sound, the strain grew worse.
The animatronic tilted its head toward the cabinets on the right side of the room. Its smile turned into a slight frown as it flicked its tongue out of its mouth.
"I'll-We'll let Sunshine-shine do-do that-that. They-They've b-been wanting to-to g-give you some-something." The animatronic knelt down so it could set you down on the floor. Your back rested up against the singular step between the room and the balcony.
The animatronic didn't bother really standing up, more or less crawling over to the light switch placed on the far-right side of the room. It used a cabinet to help it stand upright.
It looked back over at you, its smile returning as it stared you down. "I think-know you'll like-love S-Sun's fever-ish sol-solution. We-I think it-it'll be-be quite-very e-effective."
Chapter End Notes
Alright, so the next two chapters are going to come out slower than planned. And all of the chapters so far are going to get a complete revamp as well. (Yes, this includes this one. Of course, when I get to it.)
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Afterword
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