So here it is: the fifth night at the nightclub! This chapter took several months in advance to make, and I quite enjoyed it. After coming up with various scenarios that would end with the outcome I wanted, I believe the resulting storyline flows as smoothly and realistically as possible, as do the characters' emotions (synthetic and otherwise). If you find any Easter eggs and/or inconsistencies, please let me know—I enjoy all the feedback and theories you come up with! Thanks for the reviews, and let us see how the famous—and infamous—fifth night at Frenni's Nightclub turns out!
"You sound kinda somnolent there. What's going on?"
That was the first reply from Gregory when Michael called him that morning.
Since his last shift, Michael barely got any rest, no matter how much he wanted it. His mind kept running a mile a minute from what he experienced in the club, namely his first encounters with Foxxy. To say he was scared of what might happen later was an understatement. Eventually, he was forced to take his therapy-approved melatonin pills in order to force himself to sleep. Normally, he only used them for stressful moments concerning his family tragedy, but this qualified as a must as well. They indeed helped him, but being woken up prematurely by his alarm produced the side effect of leaving him drowsy for a few hours afterward. Once this passed, he noticed his phone had a missed call from Greg. Feeling his mind became clear enough to hold a conversation, he returned the call. It was only after exchanging pleasantries that his friend recognized Michael's yawning, and thus revealed his concern.
"Would you believe that one of the club's girls tried to attack me last night?" he summarized.
Greg's response was immediate. "Are you serious?! You're alright, right?"
"Well, yeah—I'm still here," Michael said. "But it doesn't change the fact that she came at me without provocation. Nor that she continued even after my shift was over—they're not supposed to do that, or so I was told."
"Holy crap on a stick—you weren't kidding before, about them getting aggressive."
"Yeah, and I have a hunch they're going to go all-out tonight," Michael sighed.
"Does that mean you're still going tonight?"
"I don't really have a choice, do I? Remember, I need some kind of job to help me here, and I don't think quitting after only four shifts will cast a good light on me." Michael heard a slight hum of understanding from the line. "Besides, I at least need the first paycheck that'll come after this."
"You sure got guts—I don't know how I'd handle it if I were in your shoes. But how're you going to manage it at this point?"
"Don't worry. I thought of a little failsafe that'll help," Michael assured, looking at the crumpled paper he wrote the previous evening, along with the open laptop in front of him. "And it will work."
"Alright, I hope it does work, man," Greg said. "With the storm coming in, it sounds like you're gonna need it. Just in case, though, if you need anything else, just let me know and I'll be there."
"Thanks for that," Michael smiled. After several other, more lengthy and pleasant topics were passed between them, the two friends decided to get back to their businesses. Upon hanging up, his eyes returned to the paper and laptop sitting before him. What he'd been doing before the call was doing some research based on what he found in the security room: the paper had the written info, and the laptop window had certain items related to said info. By luck, he found what he was looking for—it was merely a matter of picking them up while on his way back to the club. As he finalized his findings and shut the laptop, a thought suddenly crossed Michael's mind.
Wait, did Greg say something about a storm?
Michael shivered as he entered the club's back hallway, but not out of fear.
Sure enough, as Greg said, the weather that day had done a one-eighty over the course of the day. That morning, the sky was relatively clear, with a chippy breeze; but as the hours passed, dark clouds began to invade the blue horizon. Even as Michael ran a certain errand to a hardware store on the way to the nightclub, he could see the clouds moving ever-so-slightly to create an overcast atmosphere. By the time he arrived through the club's back door, a fine drizzle of cold rain was already coming down. Despite wearing a jacket, his limbs could feel the cold permeating through the fabric. It wasn't that he didn't like the rain, but rather he didn't enjoy the chilly sensations it brought. But he would not allow himself to be distracted by some natural shower—not tonight.
Hearing the door close behind him, he removed his jacket and shook off the droplets that clung to its surface. Once he made sure he was presentable, he moved on to begin his post. Unlike before, however, he forewent the stop in the locker room and walked straight for the security room, taking his pack with him. He didn't bother with lounging in the club for arriving early, nor did he pay attention to the girls even when they cast brief glances in his direction. He was completely focused on one thing: surviving another night at Frenni's Nightclub—and this time, he meant business.
The moment he stepped in the security room, he set his pack down and signed himself in. Once more, his boss left a note on his desk. However, this one had no chores written on it, but a simple message:
Hey kiddo, there won't be anything for you to do tonight. Don't take it too easy—weather's saying there will be a storm coming in. Nothing may happen, but keep your eyes peeled just in case. I'll be calling later to check on you. -W.A.
Like I didn't plan to do that already, he mused, setting his damp jacket on his chair. As he did so, his eyes caught the message recorder and found no sign of a memo for tonight. Michael didn't expect one after hearing the previous one, but the confirmation of it made him antsy. Let's pray my idea works.
Unzipping his pack, he removed its contents and set them on his desk. Within a minute, his bottle of iced water and snack bag—along with a spare flashlight, a coil of insulated wire, and a small handheld tool set—lined the edge of the desk. But the main item in his pack was the most important: a spare battery. This was the "failsafe" plan he researched; in case the club's female occupants would adapt to his orders and/or movements, he needed a sure-fire means of defense that had no temporal or energy limit. By adding an additional battery that was compatible to the systems working the security room's doors and lights, he could keep the appliances activated for as long as he wanted, even after 6am if necessary.
Setting the cubed battery by the tower which connected the wires for the doors and lights, Michael got to work. First, he made sure all the appliances were turned off, for obvious safety reasons. Then, he began unscrewing a panel of said tower with the tool set's screwdriver, and exposed its empty connections for the ones he needed. Finding them, he used the wrench set to screw on the wires' connectors to join the tower to the battery. This step took longer, as he required adequate light in the room, so he was forced to hold the flashlight in his teeth while tightening the bolts over the cords. Finally, he finished the job, and observed his handiwork. The moment didn't last long; not a minute had passed before it was time to empty out the club once more.
As the last of the visitors were ushered outside—much to their complaints upon seeing the deluge of rain—Michael double-checked the main clubroom and triple-checked the hallways himself before returning to the security room. As the nightguard of the place, he had to uphold his normal duties; with the weather changing, he didn't want some stranger taking refuge inside the building.
At least the girls' attention would be elsewhere. Michael frowned, and slapped himself for thinking such a horrible thing. He wouldn't dare wish a fate like the 'Break of 87th Street' on anyone for the sake of his own life. His parents raised him better than that. In an attempt to distract himself, he proceeded to move the spare battery in the space between the regular charge tower and the desk, so its presence did not obstruct any foot traffic.
As he worked, a simple ping rang on his cellphone, indicating an incoming message. Opening its screen, he saw it was a weather update. With a finger tap, he read the details of the report; and unsurprisingly, it talked about the incoming rainstorm with possible thunder—a real downpour. As if I needed to be told twice.
It was then that he saw movement in the monitor for the animatronics' room. Only a few minutes passed since his shift started, and already the trio of women were stepping out of their recharge pods and toward their door, with purpose in their steps.
It's judgment time.
He immediately activated the doors and the hallway lights, locking himself inside. Then, leaning over to reach the side of his desk, he took an apprehensive breath and flipped the battery switch. Laying a hand on the surface, he felt a gradual warmth from within, confirming the battery was working. As for the charge… he glanced at the display screen and gasped. A big surge of emotion washed over him as he stared unblinking.
…
The display remained at 100%, even after more than a minute.
"YES!"
Michael couldn't contain his joy—his idea worked. With this minor adjustment, he could now keep the room locked for as long as he wanted. As such, his future shifts would go without any worries of intruders, animatronic or otherwise. It was a simple solution in hindsight, yet its effects worked wonders for Michael's sanity.
As if on cue, a tap on glass interrupted his celebration. Jerking to the sound's direction, he saw two forms illuminated by the hallway's ceiling lights. Identifying them as Frenni and Chica, he turned to the other side of his room and saw Bonni also standing outside. They were observing him curiously, as they must have either heard or seen his exclamation, but their faces shone with blushed cheeks of impatient desire.
This time, Michael was not perturbed by their sudden presence. In fact, he returned their gazes with a fully confident smile—almost smug—and silently pointed to the charge screen. Upon discovering the full percentage wasn't dropping, their eyes trailed down to the new battery by Michael's feet, and seemingly put two and two together. As their stares returned to him, he emphasized his position by leaning back in his chair, completely relaxed and showing no cause for worry. Pouting sadly, the three slowly left their positions without a word, leaving him at peace. As their forms vanished from view, he leaned onto the desk to check the cameras for confirmation. In the screen overlooking the clubroom, he observed the trio continuing to increase their distance—until they almost past Pirates Cove. Like a motion sensor, Foxxy emerged from behind the curtains, and was about to step down until her comrades turned to her. For a brief moment, the four of them faced each other until the first three went their separate ways, while Foxxy went back inside her cove, looking very agitated.
Looks like she was about to try again before hearing the news, he guessed. Now that all the girls were informed, the chances of any attempt by them were less than likely, if not nil. Leaning in his chair again, Michael stared up at the ceiling and chuckled to himself, the rush of relief still flowing in his body. He kept thinking about why he hadn't thought of this when the jumpscaring began; as he was no fan of sudden adrenaline-inducing shock, it should have been natural for him to come up with this solution long before now. On the other hand, he did have his plate full of other matters that needed tending. All events considered, he felt he deserved this kind of break. As he mulled in his feelings, the sound of the rain grew more prominent, and a distant peal of thunder resounded. Recalling the reminders from his phone and Mr. Afton, it sounded like the possibility of an actual thunderstorm was likely.
Hold on—if a thunderstorm is coming, that can mean lightning strikes, which can cause a blackout. If that happens here… His eyes switched to the battery, and widened in horror. His failsafe plan, as he now realized, had a little hiccup.
On cue, the lights flickered. Michael stared up at them unblinking until they stay on. Unintentionally, his mind went back to that news article about the 'Break of 87th Street', and recalled the circumstances which led to it. Taking a quick look at the screens, he found only Frenni in her recharge pod, meanwhile Bonni and Chica were preoccupied elsewhere. Bonni was tuning her guitar in their room, while Chica roamed around the kitchen. Both were far enough that he could react if they decided to make a dash over here. So, even with the spare battery by his side, he continued checking the cameras and prayed the storm would pass.
Two hours passed, and based on how the rainfall sounds intensified, he started feeling like an uneventful nightshift was unlikely. At that point, the cameras showed Bonni lying on one of the dining tables, with her legs upright rather suggestively, and Chica was back in the recharge room yet not in a pod. No movement from either Frenni or Foxxy. But after witnessing their increased activity over the past four nights, who knew how long the standoff would last.
Then, as the clock ticked at 2:46am, it happened.
A shuddering boom rumbled through the walls, and the power went out instantly, plunging everything into darkness. The screens shut off, and the doors which were closed slid open again. On the main screen a warning popped up that read:
'WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED POWER SHUTOFF. NETWORK CONNECTION LOST. RESTORE POWER IMMEDIATELY.'
Michael started a mental swear parade. This was exactly what he was hoping wouldn't happen, but it did anyway. With the power out, the cameras or doors he relied on as shields were gone. Even his spare battery was useless now. Plus, there was no way to get out of this place or call anyone for help; his cellphone went dead because of its connection to the building's Wi-Fi, so that was useless too. And he could forget moving elsewhere—how can he move in this pitch darkness anyway?
He was completely exposed and yet trapped, exactly as the past guard had been.
Just then, he heard voices in both hallways coming to him.
Distraught, Michael cursed himself for still not seeing anything. By sheer luck, his mind recalled one of the saved recordings, about hiding under the desk. Hastily, he ducked into its foot space and tucked into a tight ball as far back in as he could.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl while he hid in the darkness, and waited. His body felt frozen in place—the cold touch of his xenophobia was crippling. He didn't even dare to move, or breathe. While most of his senses refused to work, only one was in high alert. The voices were now a bit closer, so his ears picked up the words more clearly.
"…still isn't coming out."
"Did he leave us here?"
"Where's that hornswaggler?"
"…All of you remain here. I will check on him."
A series of clicks from a woman's dress heels gradually got louder, and then the room became partially visible. Two spheres of light glided slowly over the walls side-by-side, until they eventually landed on the desk. But the sound of stepping heels didn't repeat, meaning whoever it was made no advance toward the furniture. Perhaps she could not see where he was…
"Mikey, I know you're in there," Frenni's voice hummed. "Why don't you come out and keep us company? I assure you'll enjoy it…"
In his panic, Michael's mouth ran first before his mind. "Not if it means dying in here."
…
"Why would you think that would happen?"
Michael peeked an eye, a flicker of confusion clouding his panic. The way she asked that sounded like she had no idea what he was talking about. "T-T-That's what happened… to the other guy before me. I-I don't want that to h-happen to me."
"You… don't?"
"No. I'm not some kind of lust-freak. E-Even if I was, what would I gain besides getting fired, or worse? I've only been here for five nights—I haven't done anything to deserve either, have I?"
…
A long pause ensues. When he heard Frenni's voice again, her tone was different.
She sounded… pained, ashamed.
"…You're right, you've done nothing wrong. …On behalf of the others, I'm sorry for distressing you, and I assure we will not pursue you any longer if you come out."
Michael's mind went blank as he comprehended what he just heard. "… Really?"
"Yes. As the lead of all animatronics here, I will not authorize any harm to befall you, an employee of this establishment."
A sense of relief washed over him. As his mind restarted, he recalled what Mr. Afton said about their uniform recognition program. He mentally kicked himself for not realizing that before. "Um, okay. But, uhh, I-I'll need to check on the power. Is there somewhere you and the other girls can wait in the meantime? I'll let you know how it turns out once I find out what's going on," he said, adding the last part in a rush.
"The Pirates Cove can accommodate all of us comfortably," Frenni responded. "I will let the others know, and meet you there." With that, he heard her walking away, the clack of her heels becoming fainter with every step.
A moment passed before Michael got the nerve to crawl out of the desk. Since his eyes hadn't adjusted to the darkness yet, he fumbled for his phone and activated its flashlight. Sure enough, Frenni was gone as he looked around. Feeling a bit more secure, he stepped to one of the doorways and peered around the corner. Of course, there's no telling where she and the others were lurking without the cameras, not without going out in-person. He clearly didn't fancy any sort of jumpscares, least of all the kind that can end his life. Thus, he took his time heading toward the breaker room at the back, double-checking every corner and large space before moving on.
Once the door labeled Power was opened, he tried his hand at several of the fuses. Nothing so far. Looking up, there was a long window with thick bars. Remembering it looked out to the back lots, he used a stepstool in the room to prop himself up to see outside. The back was also covered in the darkness, which meant the whole block was likely affected.
No way I can fix this, he concluded. Not with what I brought, and certainly not in this weather.
Turning, his phone light illuminated the doorway, vaguely directed to where the girls were probably waiting. A swell of hesitance rose in him, but he promised to inform them of any development he discovered. Steeling himself with pursed lips, he made his way to the Pirates Cove mini-stage.
"H-Hello? It's me, Michael," he stuttered upon reaching the stage's curtains.
"We're all accounted for in here," he heard Frenni say. "Just come through the curtains."
Quashing the reluctance rising in him again, he stepped onto the stage and slowly swept the curtains aside. There were several battery-powered lanterns illuminating a decent glow, so he could see a good portion of the Pirates Cove. It was actually another room, hidden away by public eyes that would assume was just a stage, but it indeed looked and felt like a cove. The cushion seats and dancing pole on the left weren't that surprising, unlike the large hot tub at the back and canopy bed on the right. However, the tub was empty of water, and the bed covers were unmade. Other smaller accessories were here too, but they were strewn about in a messy manner. A thin film of dust covered them, as well as several spots throughout the room, so it was clear the place hadn't seen visitors for a long while.
Speaking of, the animatronic girls were situated around the cove. Bonni was casually twirling on the pole-not exactly doing any special moves, but just moving for the sake of passing the time. Foxxy—at least he figured it was her because of her yellow eye—was sitting cross-legged on the tub at the far corner of the cove. Even though only her silhouette was visible in the dark corner, he could tell she was roughly the same size as Chica but with a slimmer form. Frenni, who was sitting with Chica on a long couch-like cushion in front of the bed, looked up expectantly. Seeing them remaining in their spots for a minute, the nightguard spoke his findings.
"Well, it looks like power is out for this block, unfortunately," Michael said warily, "so I guess we'll just have to wait until it comes back." He took a seat on a stool by the door, away from the girls.
For a long while, the five of them stayed where they were in awkward silence. His feet had taken to an uncontrolled shaking from the accumulated stress he felt a moment ago, and his breathing became haggard too. Every bit of anxiety and fear from the past week caught up with him in one huge rush, leaving him in a trembling mess. Tried as he might, he couldn't remind himself of his therapy lessons—it was just too overwhelming. Hearing some shuffling, he looked up to see Frenni having moved over to make a space between herself and Chica.
"You know, you can sit with us if you want," she offered. "It will help relieve some tension in here, and your neural stress level will lessen too. Don't worry, my pledge still stands."
Michael silently observed the space. The cushions did look more comfortable, and his present stress level wasn't going down anytime soon from where he was sitting. Still, his gaze switched to the cushions' present occupants. Neither Frenni nor Chica made any movement or gesture to him, as the former promised. Even if they did, though, his body was in no condition to run for any distance; he felt too physically exhausted and emotionally pent-up to resist.
Defeatedly, he spent what leg strength he had left and tottered over between the two girls, slumping into the space. As time passed, the trio remained where they sat, until another boom of thunder resounded. Almost immediately, Michael felt soft sensations from his arms. Frenni had slowly and tenderly intertwined his hand with hers, while Chica nestled her head on his other shoulder, using his other arm as a hug pillow. The sensations of their bodies caught him off guard once more; instead of cold, hard shells surrounded by a thin membrane of silicone skin, their bodies and skin were actually soft and malleable, like real flesh. They even emanated body heat. Again, he was reminded by how advanced these beings really were. It certainly helped that their touch wasn't eager or stimulating, but comforting.
It felt nice, like a mother's embrace.
Slowly, he felt his knotted stomach unravelling and the excess adrenaline leaving him. His haggard breathing also slowed to steady, deep breaths. After a moment, Michael regained some strength in his voice. "I, uh… I'm glad you're behaving yourselves," he said simply.
"Behaving?" Frenni asked.
"Y-Yes. Since I've started working here, y-you girls have been… a bit too welcoming for comfort."
"You mean when we're prowling around you like cougars stalking a feast?" Bonni asked casually.
Michael couldn't help but blush at the analogy. "Well… y-yeah. I appreciate you not doing that now." A moment of hesitation before he asked. "Do you really do that because of residual energy from your day performances? T-That's just what I heard."
"Partially, yes," Frenni explained, "but it is also our connection with the club network which allows us to roam freely in the building without orders. It is the main server which keeps our restrictions intact even when the connection is lost. Mr. Afton made sure to keep it on its own power source in these kinds of situations. That's why we can still follow orders despite the blackout."
"Restrictions?" he quizzed curiously.
"Limiters set in our programming. He says that they are for our safety, to keep us from going out of line."
I guess they would, he mused. However, he thought back on their past actions and words, and what they were capable of. Then, a certain thought struck his mind, and he couldn't help but ask.
"But, doesn't that make you prisoners too? Not just because you're all cooped up in this building."
Frenni and the other girls looked around at each other like such a thought never occurred to them. "… I suppose it would. Why do you ask?"
Michael dared to continue his train of thought. "I just don't understand you all. I mean, Mr. Afton created all of you as the pinnacle of artificial intelligence. Why would he go through all this effort to make all of you—completely state-of-the-art and as humane as possible, inside and out—and yet restrain you like this? Surely anyone who puts in that much work would want to see their creations perform at their fullest potential."
The girls shared a knowing look before replying.
"We are not as advanced as you think," Frenni said. "Originally, Mr. Afton made us to be 'state-of-the-art', as you say, in the field of artificial intelligence so he could attract as many investors and customers as possible. But we still have some kinks and bugs in our systems, as you noticed. He tried, but he couldn't find the source of why our software won't fully take with us. As of now, he is using us as prototypes for something bigger, perhaps to expand his business and mass-produce animatronics like us—minus the bugs."
"And what will happen to you four if that happens?"
It was Bonni who answered. "Best bet, he's gonna replace us first and throw us out like garbage."
"An' you all can bet I'll be first on the chopping block," Foxxy grumbled at last.
Startled by her voice, along with her annoyed tone, the young nightguard turned to her silhouette. "What makes you think that?" he asked.
Her eye darted toward him. "I don't think, I know. And so should you, kid."
"Foxxy, be reasonable," Frenni interjected calmly. "Michael is new, so he hasn't properly met you to know the reason why. Especially considering he hasn't even seen your condition." The response she got was a long growl of exasperation, much to his confusion.
"Fine," Foxxy grunted, and stood up to walk closer into the light.
His first clear sight of Foxxy left him speechless, but out of shock.
As he suspected, Foxxy was almost the same height as Chica, but not quite as curvy. As her name suggested, Foxxy's humane form also had the features of a fox. Her ponytail, much longer and messier than Frenni's, stood out as much as her red skin and pointed tufted ears. Her physique was more athletic too, as her abs were somewhat visible and her clenched fists showed a hidden strength that was greater than the other girls. What was clearly visible, though, was how badly damaged she was; her lower legs and arms were covered in long bandages, and she wore a sloppily-made eyepatch that was put over her right eye. Unfortunately, they did little in concealing the tears and openings in her silicone limbs, even exposing her inner frame in a few places. Along with her bandages, her clothing was dirty and coming apart in tatters, and her skin had smears of dust and grime. There was even a hint of a long nasty gash between the valley of her chest underneath her shirt, revealing a small glint of metal and carbon fiber. Overall, her appearance was very unkempt and neglected, if not outright mangled, unlike her fellow relations.
"Foxxy… w-what happened to you?"
Foxxy's left eye narrowed suspiciously. "Dontcha already know?"
"No, that's why I asked," Michael replied truthfully. "All I know was what Mr. Afton told me, that you were out of service for now. He never said you were damaged."
"'Course not, 'cause the next logical question would be how I got this way," Foxxy scoffed, "an' that would be the end of me for sure."
"What do you mean?"
Foxxy remained silent, and he decided it wasn't the right time to press, so he dropped the issue. The moment Foxxy sat back down in another seat, Frenni turned to face him.
"Michael, your reaction just now. My memory pool shows this isn't the first time you act like this when talking to us," she noted curiously. "When I sing onstage, when Bonni dances, and when Chica served your meal; your face expresses awe and admiration that is different from other people. Even now, you show concern for someone you have only just met. Why?"
The young man pondered her question. Thinking back, he did have those feelings whenever he interacted with them during open hours. How could he not, after seeing them act and hearing them speak? And yet… the memory of Afton calling them machines flashes in his mind. No, these… beings were different, too different from what is often described as cold, hard, and lifeless. The more he saw these girls act, the more distant that word became. And that's what he decided to tell them.
"Because I've met my share of technologies at my age, and there's nothing like you four. Even at this period of time, there's no way any artificial intelligence can show the movements and emotions like you can. To be perfectly honest, I thought you all were human women in cosplay when I first came here; I wouldn't have believed you were animatronics if Afton didn't show me the blueprints."
"You… thought we were like you?" Foxxy asked sharply, genuinely surprised.
"As humans, yes," Michael replied. "I still do even now, so I can't help but act like you're more familiar to me… though there are a few things that are unsettling."
"Such as?" Frenni inquired.
"Those limiters you have. For instance, why you follow certain orders, or why your eyes change color when talking about certain things. Also, your… eagerness to be around me," he named off.
"Like Frenni said, we're able to follow orders when the network connection is out," explained Bonni as she dipped back on the pole, kicking up one leg. "But there are certain orders we cannot follow, and certain topics we cannot answer. Those are hard-wired in us—probably because they're restricted or erased from our memory. Plus, a pesky firewall Mr. Afton designed around them doesn't help."
"That is a failsafe to prevent people from hacking our systems in attempts to make their own versions of us, or find a loophole to have their way with us," Frenni elaborated. "As for our eyes, we have numerous phosphor lights embedded in them to exhibit our current state of function, in case we are incapacitated in some way."
"Blue means we're functioning normally with the server," Chica piped up while caressing Michael's arm with a finger. "Red shows when we're not authorized to do something, and green is for maintenance and repairs, or when our systems are adjusting to new coding. There may be other versions, but we haven't seen them."
"And coming onto me? Is that part of your programming, or…" he trailed off, unsure how to finish that train of thought.
"That one's easy," Bonni declared, giggling. "You're just that hot."
Frenni smiled with her before turning back to the person in question. "Granted, but it is also part of the behavioral program Mr. Afton installed within us. We're meant to make those who come here comfortable and welcome. It is only when someone tries to violate the main rule concerning us that our nonviolent self-preservation protocol initiates. More than that… you are also different."
Michael stared at her, stunned. "Different how?"
"There have been numerous males that visit the nightclub, yet none of them are quite like you. You never looked at us with perverted lust, or took advantage of us. You even refer to us as human women and not machines. Not even Mr. Afton, our own creator, shows us that kind of respect." She cupped her free hand over his intertwined hand. "Such treatment from you makes us acknowledge that we may be more than art, but as… special."
"Yes. You make us special," Chica says contentedly, lifting her head to face him. "So, you must be special too."
"Enough to earn 'special treatment' in our eyes," Bonni chipped in playfully.
"Bonni," Frenni scolded with a smile.
Michael chuckled softly, moving his sights from girl to girl. He didn't think his actions towards them had that much of an impact. A thought then struck him, based on what they just said. "You know, you all make it sound like I'm the first person to make you feel that way."
"You are." He turned to face Frenni, who smiled with half-lidded eyes. "Rather, you are the first person to treat us so well. In your words before, you keep surprising us and that makes us want to see you more. That is why we kept approaching you, despite your refusals, during your shifts. To say we got a little eager and excited is one way to put it. Perhaps the reality is, our coding may have caused us to overstep your comfort zone." Frenni's expression changed to downtrodden, her eyes peering down at their joined hands.
"We can't help it," Chica spoke softly. "That's just how it is."
Michael took a moment to process everything. After hearing them explain their behaviors, his perception of their advances and ambush attempts was changed drastically. It explained why they tried to be closer to him ever since he arrived. From their position, they were treated as objects for pleasure in public eyes; but in private eyes… well, there was basically no one to see them differently. So, after several years, of course they would be glad to meet anyone who wasn't part of the former. Only, they couldn't help themselves from greeting someone the only way they knew how. What made it worse was that no attempt was made to resolve the issue; instead, Mr. Afton chose to restrain the four from having any proper interactions. It didn't seem fair at all. As Michael described, they were prisoners in this place with no chance of genuine company. Then again, Michael did no better by shutting himself away and not giving them a chance to explain themselves.
It's not that they're horny for a partner, he realized, remembering the sad looks on their faces earlier tonight. They're simply lonely for a real friend. Now it was his turn to feel shame.
"I'm sorry," he sighed dolefully. "I'm sorry you're stuck in that kind of loop. I may not be restrained by anything like computer programs, but I understand the loneliness of being unaccompanied by a loved one, or someone who really understands you. To be severed from a larger circle by force… it hurts." Turning his head up, he noticed the four of them listening with interest. "But maybe I can change that in a way that helps all of us. What if we became friends instead?"
All four animatronic girls looked at him seriously—even Bonni stopped her practice dance. "You want us to be your… friends?" Bonni inquired.
Michael exchanged the same look toward each of them. "It's not really a matter of what I want for you. It's what you want for you."
Frenni shook her head. "That is kind of you, Michael, but Mr. Afton did not program us with the ability to choose, let alone—"
"I would disagree on that," Michael interrupted, his expression becoming firm. "If memory serves, you chose to see me after your song the night before, Frenni. And Bonni, you chose to dedicate your little dance routine towards me, didn't you? And it was you, Chica, who chose the specific pizza to serve me. And Foxxy—" He stopped, having realized she hadn't done anything except stalk him with violent intent. In an attempt to keep the momentum going, he made up something simple for her. "…Well, you haven't been chasing me around tonight, have you? W-Whether it was by your peers' request or not, it was still your decision, right?"
Foxxy didn't seem moved, but neither did she object.
"And besides, Mr. Afton's not very willing to allow you all to interact with whomever you wish." Sitting up straight and determined, Michael tested them. "But I'm here, so I'm giving you the chance instead. So… what is it that you want?"
The girls stared at each other, their eyes flashing rapidly between red and blue shades. It happened for so long, a small part of him hoped they wouldn't fry their minds over conflicting instructions.
"If you are willing… to be our… friend," Frenni spoke slowly, red flashing randomly against the dominant blue in her eyes, "then we will… accept your offer."
Michael sighed with a smile. That was as good a 'yes' as he was going to get.
The ceiling lights suddenly flickered to life, fully illuminating the room before dying out just as quickly. The five occupants observed the occurrence in brief silence. Michael checked the time on his phone; even without any reception bars, he could still read the clock as 4:56am.
"It looks like the power in this area's about to come back," he surmised. "Um, will any of you remember this conversation once the network is back online?"
"Yes, but Mr. Afton regularly checks on our servers," answered Frenni, "to ensure there are no malfunctions that could potentially affect us. If there are, then he would perform a more thorough search in our systems, including our memory. He will have no knowledge of our conversation tonight even if he does look, because the network is down."
And that's thanks to the blackout, he thought. Well, hopefully this means they won't go out of line again. "Alright then, I suggest you all head back to your usual spots. I'll tell Mr. Afton what happened about the power. Hopefully, he won't have a problem. After that, well… I'm hoping things run more smoothly here."
"Does that mean you'll keep working here?" Chica asked hopefully, rising from her seat.
"Well, in case you didn't know," Michael answered, "I actually need this job for personal reasons, and the last thing I want is for there to be any rifts. If anything, I prefer we all are on good terms. So, I'll promise from now on to not isolate myself the way I have before, as long as all of you behave yourselves. That way, I can keep coming here with peace of mind, and we all can converse properly. Sound good?"
Frenni and the others—even Foxxy—nodded contentedly. "Yes, it does," Frenni smiled. "And thank you, Mikey."
The young man smiled back, a wave of relief washing over him for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Until one last issue came up. "Oh, um, by the way, since we're all friends now, do you think you can end the jumpscares if you want to see me? I kinda don't need that here."
"We could," Bonni giggled, "but where's the fun?"
"Our approaches were rather direct," Frenni considered, "but it is encoded in us to be forward with our advances, if you take my meaning. However, since you request this of us, we will make sure to keep the 'jumpscares' to a minimum so as to not impede your duties here."
"For now, I'll take that," Michael accepted.
Like a signal, the ceiling lights ended the conversation by returning back to their glow, and stayed that way. Ignoring the now-visible details of the room's dilapidation, Michael gestured to the curtained entryway.
"Alright then, let's get back to our posts, okay?" he asked kindly. As the girls passed by him, each of them gave him a different response: Chica gave him a bright smile; Bonni grinned while sashaying her hips; Foxxy merely scowled, but less than before; and Frenni… gingerly touched his hand while wearing an expression that could only be described as grateful. Once they disappeared through the curtains, another wave of emotions hit him, this time of disbelief. He never thought tonight would end this way, and not in the sequence that occurred. For him to feel confident to have this shift in the bag, only to be snatched from his grasp and faced with imminent doom, and yet end with himself and the girls making amends—it all sounded too incredulous. Of course, he was far from complaining; he preferred that this night ended with him still standing, regardless of what events happened in whichever order.
Speaking of standing, I should check on the breakers again instead of roleplay as a mannequin 'dummy', he recollected.
Leaving the Pirates Cove, Michael walked around the club, making sure nothing got burned out or shorted by the blackout. He finished his round at the Power room, and examined the fuses and breakers. Confirming their working condition, he returned to the security room, where he was met by a multitude of monitors displaying static. That was soon resolved after some finicking with reloading the camera feeds, and the whole setup was running again with clear screens. This gave him a view of the animatronic women's present position, which was being huddled together in their room. While in the middle of observing and wondering the content of the girls' conversation, the phone on the desk rang. Expecting the call to be from his boss, since it was well past his usual checkup time, Michael casually picked up the phone. But before he could utter so much as a "hello"—
"The hell's going on over there, kid?! I've been calling the club for the last hour—so whatever reason you got better be good!"
His angry outburst startled Michael so much, he had to readjust the phone in his hand. "I-I'm sorry, sir—the storm knocked out the power in this area for a while. I didn't know you've been trying to contact me—I would have called back otherwise, but my phone was connected to the WiFi here, so…" He trailed off, not wanting to reveal what else happened, namely his conversation with the girls. A moment passed before he heard Mr. Afton speak, more sheepishly this time.
"Oh. …I see. Eh, my apologies to ya—didn't mean to snap like that. Your work had been good so far, and it surprised me that the effort slacked off so suddenly." A short pause passed. "I'm guessing all is well now… and I'm guessing you didn't take a chance with the animatronics?"
His suggestion startled Michael in a different way. "No! I mean, not at all. I just gave them orders, and they followed them without a hitch, like you said."
There was a long pause on the other end, and for a split moment Michael wasn't sure if his boss believed him. At last, Afton's voice spoke up in the phone.
"Alright. …I just got a notice from the power grid—it's just as you said. Lucky us the power came back at all. Anyway, I'll check on the servers in the morning, just in case anything got damaged, but based on what you said, it sounds like everything's still in working order."
"That's correct, sir," he replied. "I even did a double-check on the breakers—nothing's been tripped due to the storm, and everything is back online."
"Great job, kiddo," Mr. Afton complimented. "Maybe you have what it takes after all. Just make sure the place is tidy as usual before you clock out. Keep up the good work, otherwise."
"Will do, sir." A click was heard in the earpiece, indicating Afton had hung up. Hanging up his end, Michael slumped into his chair.
He stayed in this position for the remainder of his shift, and then gathered his belongings. Just as he was about to sign out, the spare battery caught the corner of his eye. He thought about bringing it with him, but decided against it. It would likely have a better use here than at his apartment, in case of an emergency. With that, and logging out of the system, he trudged his way across the clubroom while ensuring all was as tidy as can be. Then he made his way down the back hallway to the exit door.
As he was about to leave, something made him take one last glance down the hall. Indeed, he recognized the luminous blue eyes of Frenni witnessing his departure from within the animatronics' room's doorway. With a warm smile, she bid him farewell with a small wave. Returning the gesture as amiably, a strange sense of reverie lurched in his mind. As he stepped out of the building, the feeling grew as his eyes glazed around the fog that hid the light drizzle that dampened every surface. Combined with the series of events that occurred tonight, along with the reprieve that came as a result, he felt like he was stepping into a dream he didn't expect to happen.
It wasn't until Michael reached his apartment that this dream-like state-of-mind was replaced by a real dream, as he drifted into the best sleep he had all year long.
So, what did you think? Now we know the reason for these animatronics' 'quirkiness', and our nightguard has managed to make amends and thus survive. But this is far from the end…
While I was putting this chapter together, I wanted to incorporate the same reactions one would feel while playing the game, as well as my own during this year, so any reader would sympathize with the main characters. I also thought it would be fun to add the battery element to reflect a kind of 'cheat code' because, well, who wouldn't want that for a game meant to scare the crap out of you? Of course, such attempts don't come without a price, or a weakness in this case. On a more personal note, I sought to add the start of seeing the 'antagonists' in a different light, not only for more depth and understanding but also for reasoning; after all, we don't really learn how or why the animatronics in the first game act the way they do until its sequels. For now, the four in this story are also found to be victims in their own ways, and our main character will discover these ways as he finally interacts with the girls.
On that note, my future chapters will be much longer, as each will be taking place in week-long increments. Luckily, though, I've already planned for which girls will be the focus, and am currently editing these chapters. Please be patient as I work on them, and tell me your thoughts in the reviews. Thanks, and have happy holidays!