Chica's Cupcake Factory was on the second floor. The stairs weren't extremely close to Bonnie's Bowling, but there was one measly security bot patrolling there and Gregory managed to get by on foot. The walkway was long and fairly barren with just a few electronic stands and a couple of kiddie rocket rides and advertisements filling the place. He walked through a set of shutters. A couple of S.T.A.F.F. security bots roamed the shiny tile floor of the dining area around the kitchen building. Beyond that, through a door, was the factory itself with a giant cupcake and conveyor belts.
Gregory slipped into the kitchen. Nine inactive kitchen bots stood around. Near the door was a list of random stuff, and then a website for online ordering of cupcakes. That sort of sounded like the online pizza delivery, didn't it? He looked over the list more closely and found plenty of phrases referring to delivery, in-factory baking, personalized ingredients, and controlling the bots. On the right wall was a large oven set on the counter itself with a cupcake icon. The thing could fit Gregory! Which, it wasn't going to do that. Beside it was a box connected to the front of a vat beside the cupcake machine. "SECRET INGREDIENT" was printed on the box. Gregory looked down at the Monty Mystery Mix he now held. He opened the box, stuck it inside, and shut it.
Nice.
Well, considering he didn't want to get killed by the chicken, here was probably not the best place to be standing. Although there were computers everywhere, the only place that came to mind with pizza delivery was the security room by the basement kitchen next to the Loading Docks.
Gregory, repeating in his head what he needed to do and the website to go to in his head, left the factory and then down to the first floor. He walked through Salads and Sides and used the elevator there to go to the power control room. He needed to take power away from "EDUCATION MAZE" and redirected it to "CUPCAKE FACTORY".
Okay, so, go to the office and then have the cupcake made and delivered. He'd need a distraction so that Chica didn't attack him in the office. Maybe leading Chica to the factory would be a good idea? He'd have the cupcake baked and then be transported back by the time she got there, hopefully. Then she'd come back and get jumped by Gregory–literally. Or he could just stay quiet. After all, she wasn't here right now.
He left the power room and crossed through the kitchen and a short hall and to the security room. He loitered for just a moment, indecisive, before turning to the security office.
Gregory set Bonnie on the desk, opened the pizza delivery app, and typed in a code. The screen flashed from one of pizza to "Chica's Cupcake Factory." He grinned and scrolled through the app until he found "Build Your Own Cupcake!"
The familiar robot voice stated, "Congratulations! You have enough credits for a free Chica Factory Cupcake. Additional charges may apply. Let's get started." He winced. Well, there goes "being quiet".
The screen became that of a kitchen littered with S.T.A.F.F. bots. As soon as the screen, now flanked by blue with an objective marker at the top left, turned on, all of the inactive bots turned on and drove to their stations. At the bottom of his screen, he could see a large bowl, like he was holding one in front of himself.
"You are now in control of one of our highly trained baking S.T.A.F.F. bots. Follow the instructions on the left side of the screen to force the bot to make your perfect cupcake. If your bot is unable to get to another part of the kitchen, switch to another bot using one of the arrows on either side of the screen."
Gregory glanced at the top left of the screen. Helpy's head with a little chef's hat sat snugly on the top left. "Gather Batter Ingredients" stayed beside it. On the top right were the numbers 9/9.
The baker bot stated in a voice that warbled on occasion, "Let us first prepare the cupcake batter. We will need: Egg. Flour. Sugar. Butter. Milk."
He commanded the baker bot to go to the fridge first.
"Milk. Butter. Egg." The bot listed off the ingredients as it pulled individual containers of varying sizes meekly labeling their contents into the bowl. They stayed in their containers. "Good. Now we will need: Flour. Sugar." The bot rolled to one of the cabinets nearby. Another few individual containers were pulled out. "Flour. Sugar," the bot listed off. It gathered them in with the rest of the ingredients.
"Good. It is time to make the delicious batter," it droned. The objective at the top changed to "Prepare Batter."
Chica entered the kitchen. The baker bots stayed at their stations, motionless, as Chica or Gregory's bot passed them. But, after Gregory's bot set the ingredients beside a large mixer, he spotted Chica at the edge of the screen staring at him.
Chica's head twitched and then she charged at the bot. The screen turned to static.
"No!" Gregory squeaked.
The screen turned back on, but this time across the kitchen. The numbers at the top right read 8/9.
"Wha–? Okay!" Gregory turned the bot to skirt around the island so that he didn't get too close to Chica, who successfully put his previous bot's misery to an end. He looked around and rolled the bot over to the fridge, where he took out a cake and dropped it on the floor. His bot rolled back quickly enough to keep from getting smeared in cake.
Across the room, Chica's head snapped up.
Gregory switched bots once Chica got close. She ignored the bot he had been using to grab the cake. Gregory's cooking assist bot opened the mixer and the containers of ingredients and poured them into the mixer.
The mixer turned on… and stayed on.
Computer bot asked, "How would you rate your experience so far? Pick two that apply."
The survey went ignored.
Finally, the mixer opened. The baker bot tapped the whisk on the edge of the bowl and withdrew the bowl. The whisk was set aside, where another S.T.A.F.F. bot immediately swooped in with a washcloth.
The instructions changed to "Find Cupcake Tin."
"Let's get a cupcake tin to shape our cupcake," stated the bot. It set down the bowl again and rolled across the floor. Chica lifted her head to stare at the bot as it approached. Her head twitched.
Gregory switched to another bot on her other side to fetch the cupcake tin.
Chica went back to eating.
Gregory's baker bot set down the cupcake tin.
The instructions changed to "Find Cupcake Liner."
"Now we need a cupcake liner. There are many choices of cupcake liners," the bot stated. Near where the tin had been, a cabinet held an array of cupcake liners–any size from mini to the size of a small child and every color and pattern one could imagine and more. Gregory randomly picked a pink one with yellow triangles.
Chica wandered. She caught sight of Gregory's baker bot. Her head twitched. Gregory, too concentrated on the cupcake liner, didn't see her. He did hear her bawk and his bot getting attacked.
He was forced into another baker bot. Of the nine that began in the kitchen, six remained, including the one he piloted. He pulled open a food cabinet and brought out a large container of sprinkles closest to the bot. He dropped it on the floor. It shattered against the clean tile. Sprinkles scattered over the ground.
Chica, finished destroying the previous bot, perked up at the noise and went to investigate.
Gregory switched to a bot close to the cupcake liners. Unfortunately, the one he had gotten originally had fallen to the floor, so he needed to retrieve another. This one was the same color and pattern being from the same stack. He brought it back to the tin and fit it inside. Why the baker bot didn't pack it in completely confused him, but he didn't think any more about it.
The instructions changed to "Pour Batter."
"It is time to pour the batter." The baker bot picked up a floppy-ended spatula and tipped the bowl over. The cupcake liner sank with a quiet sigh as the air was forced out from under it.
Gregory heard sprinkles tinkling over metal and landing on the floor. But, as the baker bot's bowl was empty, he could no longer hear the sprinkles. She still rummaged through it. Without stopping to wait for Gregory's command, the S.T.A.F.F. bot let go of the bowl with the hand holding the spatula and scraped out the batter.
Chica's noises tapered off.
The bot kept working. The batter didn't fill the entire thing, but the bot still scraped as much as possible. Did it really need to do that?! Really?! It got most of it! That was good enough! It had to be!
After an eternity, the bot set down the spatula where the whisk had been. Immediately, the washer bot swooped in to snatch the spatula and wipe down the counter.
The instructions changed to "Bake Cupcake."
Gregory preemptively switched bots. He switched just in time to see Chica grab the baker bot and go in for the attack. Sprinkles trickled out of her throat and peppered her icing-smeared beak. The number at the top right lowered to 5/9. He hissed in annoyance. She was right in front of the batter! How was he going to get back? Wait, was she going to eat the batter?
Panicking, he looked around and commanded the S.T.A.F.F. bot to roll over to the stacks of pots and pans on the counter. They rattled obnoxiously as he hit them. Chica looked back and immediately walked to the noise.
Gregory switched bots.
The bot stated, "Time to bake. An oven would be ideal."
His bot picked up the raw cupcake and rolled up to the oven. It opened, revealing a pan onto which he could place the cupcake. It closed immediately after accepting the cupcake.
The instructions change to "Prepare Icing."
"It is now time to prepare the icing. We need: Icing. Secret ingredient." Gregory grimaced. Hopefully, Chica wasn't going to go too haywire too quickly. He commanded the bot back to the cabinet with vats of icing and grabbed it. Within a box next to the oven was the "secret ingredient."
Monty Mystery Mix.
The bot opened the vat of icing and then the box of syrup.
Immediately, Chica's head spun around like an owl's. "I smell pizza!" she cried and turned around. Gregory's bot dropped the mix into the icing and shut the lid.
Gregory was forced into another bot's body. 4/9.
As Chica tore apart that S.T.A.F.F. bot, Gregory rolled around the other side of the island and picked up the closed vat. All he needed to do was fit the vat onto the top of the oven, right above the "ICING HERE" label.
Gregory was forced into another bot. 3/9. Was it just him, or was she getting more aggressive? Was she really that crazy over the mystery mix? Well, good for him, he supposed. Not right now, but eventually. He tipped over a garbage can.
Chica, confused and a little suspicious, raised her head to look at the noise. Her head twitched and she got up and approached the mess.
Gregory changed bots.
Ding!
The oven opened, revealing a box with Chica's cupcake printed on the front. The top and top half of the sides were transparent, allowing him to see the pink-frosted cupcake tinted green in places. "Chica's Cupcake Factory" stamped the front side.
The instructions changed to "Deliver Cupcake."
"The cupcake is finished. It is time to put it in the delivery system."
Chica looked up too late. Gregory's S.T.A.F.F. bot automatically wheeled to the corner of the kitchen with windows and set it on a slot that opened in the wall. The slot closed.
Computer bot announced, "Delicious! To ensure a safe and timely delivery, our cutting-edge Cupcake Tracker allows you to deliver the dessert to your own home or residence. Additional mileage charges may apply."
Hardly a second later, the screen went fuzzy as Chica attacked the now "free" bot.
Gregory stepped away from the computer and looked outside. He heard the whirr of a bot and a S.T.A.F.F. bot with a delivery cap on came in with a giant box holding his unique cupcake. He took it with a puff and wheezed, "Thank you."
The bot straightened up. "Thank you for your service." It rolled away.
Gregory shifted his grip on the box and stomped into the kitchen. He looked up and set it down below the catwalk. He broke apart the box and peeled the sides so not one inch of the cupcake was spared from the animatronic's vision. Gregory pressed the Freddy-head-shaped button attached to a cord on the wall. The catwalk's rails slid back. Heavy footsteps tromped closer.
"Gregory? Where'd you go?"
I'm just outside, it's fine. You should stay there. I don't want you getting lost or covered in icing or something.
Gregory ran out of the kitchen and back up the stairs as quickly as he could. By the time he opened the door to the catwalk above the kitchen, Chica had entered. She stooped over the giant, warm cupcake that smelled of vanilla cupcake and pepperoni pizza. "Pizza~!" she cooed and immediately ate the cupcake as quickly as she could shove handfuls of it in her beak.
"Please don't go for too long. I don't want to be alone."
I'll be back soon!
Gregory slunk a little further onto the catwalk and to the edge so he crouched directly above her. He took a deep breath and climbed to the edge. It squeaked beneath him, and he froze.
Chica paused and looked around the kitchen. She quickly went back to her toddler-sized cupcake.
After a moment of berating his hesitation passed, Gregory let go of the catwalk and jumped down feet first, heels pointed down and close together.
Chica's head turned upon hearing the metal squeak above. Her eyes widened, but she didn't have time to say anything before Gregory's feet connected with her neck and the side of her head slammed into the ground.
Gregory lost his balance and fell back onto her. Chica shrieked and turned her head back like an owl. Gregory winced and covered his ears as the noise–emanating from her upper chest less than a foot away–stabbed into his ears. His glasses glitched and the lights above them flickered. Her lavender eyes trained on him. "There you are!" Gregory's eyes widened. She tried to reach back to grab him, but her arms couldn't reach completely back. Her fingers caught onto his coat and started to pull him off. Gregory grabbed her hand and kicked her face. She croaked as his foot struck her messy beak. The first kick jerked her head to the side and the second knocked her beak loose. She released him, turned her head forward, and shoved her hands into the ground.
Gregory yanked himself up, braced his feet against her shoulder blades, and grabbed her by whatever her shoulder things were called. Chica pulled herself up. "Get off, Gregory!"
"How are you awake? I thought I knocked you out!" Gregory yelped and yanked her to the side. Chica stumbled. She hit a countertop and staggered away from it and into another. He ducked out of her grasp as she grabbed at him again. He didn't know where they were going, but as long as she didn't grab him, he was fine with it. Vaguely, he recalled Moon standing on Monty's shoulders before the animatronic alligator passed out. How did Moon shut Monty down? Could Gregory do the same thing to Chica?
She ba-gawked upon hitting a wall face-first, overcorrected and hit a wall back-first, extracting a squeal of pain from Gregory, and then tripped and landed on her face in a pile of garbage.
Gregory groaned and held a hand to his head. Oooooh ow. Headache. Backache. Everything-ache. Chica floundered in the trash pile, so of course he stayed on. Then, his headache worsened, his senses tried disconnecting from his brain, and he realized too late that this was not a normal headache.
He released her and looked up. Two big red eyes stared at him from the kitchen. The white rabbit stood by the counters. She held one finger up to her permanently grinning mouth and then pressed a glowing green button with the other. She waved and wiggled her fingers with a muffled giggle.
Gregory stared at her and then gasped as his entire world vibrated and got smaller. More precisely, it got shorter as the ceiling lowered. It stopped and groaned as it caught onto a metal bar. He scrambled to get out and tripped over himself. Chica turned on him, hissing. She snatched him by the ankle as he fled and threw him down as he tried to escape.
"No, no, no!" he yelled and tried to yank his ankle free. He kicked her fingers and slithered out of her grasp. She lunged for him and managed to catch him, barely, knocking the beam down with her.
The garbage compactor slammed down. Chica's hand spasmed and fingers twitched, but her grip stayed.
The white rabbit gasped theatrically, "Look at what you've done, Gregory! Oh, and she was only trying to help…"
Gregory looked up as the white rabbit abandoned the button and skipped toward him.
The garbage compactor raised.
Gregory turned back to the inanimate chicken animatronic. She jerked to life. Chica croaked and tried dragging him further toward herself–or maybe tried dragging herself out–and reached with her other hand. He flipped over and kicked her in the face with all his might, knocking her beak completely loose.
The garbage compactor's right wall closed in.
The white rabbit took Gregory by the back of his shirt.
Chica spat out static as the compactor squeezed her until her head shell cracked in half.
Gregory lashed out at the white rabbit with his fists and tried kicking Chica's hand again. When the compactor wall retreated, the bottom opened, and Chica slid down. Gregory started to slide with her.
The white rabbit gasped, "No! No, let go, Chica!" She stumbled forward and released Gregory, who clawed at the slimy ground as he was dragged with the animatronic chicken into the depths of the garbage compactor.
Gregory landed hard on a pile of rotting garbage. He groaned and sat up. When he opened his eyes, he saw nothing. He bit his tongue to keep from making a noise and scrambled to pull out his flashlight. When he did, he flicked it on and confirmed he was indeed not blind. He sat in what was essentially a garbage land, with what little his tiny flashlight could reveal. Beside him, Chica lay sprawled face-up, her beak barely hanging on by a few wires. He picked up his glasses, wiped them off on his shirt, and put them back on. Bonnie? You there?
No answer.
Gregory whispered, "Bonnie? Can you hear me?"
Beep! [Gregory! Why the heck are you in the sewer? How did you get there?]
"There was an accident with the garbage smasher," Gregory admitted. "Chica and I stumbled in, and the rabbit lady turned it on. Chica's banged up. I-I don't know how to get her out of here."
Beep! [Kid, don't worry about Chica. Get your hide out of there right now. I'll worry about her. You get out! Freddy patrols the sewers!]
Gregory's eyes went wide. Freddy patrols all the dark places. Gregory looked around, finding nothing in the black. He got up and snatched Chica's beak and voice box from her. "That's for trying to kill me," he grunted and stuck them in his jacket. "I'll give it back if you stop." He swept his meager flashlight over the ground and started walking until he found a slope leading to a long, huge pipe piled with more garbage and running water in the middle. He wrinkled his nose at the running water and kept moving along the cement walkway lined by yellow tape with black sideways arrows guarding him from the water. But that didn't last long so he jumped into the shallow water and climbed out to the other side. A working metal door allowed him out onto a short balcony with a guard rail. He flashed his light over the black, but though some water glimmered in the distance, nothing else was revealed in the void.
The walkway stopped suddenly and dropped into the black with nothing but a few planks to span the gap. The planks creaked underfoot as he crossed over them. One cracked and shuddered. He hopped onto the other side and glanced back. No Chica so far. Also, no Monty, Freddy, or white rabbit.
He had to climb over pipes, his heart lurching as he slipped on one with his wet shoes, and walk through a tunnel with other pipes and wires dangling through it. Still, he persevered, and he moved as quickly as he could. Just stay quiet and move fast. Animatronics are attracted to noise, Bonnie said so. Just stay quiet and maybe Freddy won't know you're here.
Eventually, he walked through a red door into a cement stairway right and up… up straight into a parking garage cluttered by a lot of not-car things. Barrels, ice cream carts, and boxes covered in cloth, that he could see. Or maybe that's just what he saw. Maybe it was clear further in. Maybe there were cars. Maybe it was empty.
Footsteps.
Gregory jumped and swung his flashlight around. The heavy, plastic footsteps echoed in the cement parking garage. Maybe they were coming from in front of him, though they could be coming from the right? Were they coming from behind him? Stupid echo! They were getting louder! Where was he supposed to go? Where was the exit?
He froze upon seeing two red glowing dots in the dark straight ahead and for a wild moment he felt a crazed version of relief upon seeing Moon–a threat, but a familiar one. The moment left as the dots turned into glowing lavender disks a few yards in front of him.
Gregory just stared at the lights. His flashlight fell on them and barely showed the outline of the bear's orange and cream torso and scarlet shoulders, gleaming off his shiny black bow tie.
Trrrriiiing tring, tri-tring, tring! Music started–twinkling, playful music.
A light flared inside of Freddy's head plates to the beat of the instrumental and with each gentle flash, the discs would be accompanied by bright white eyes, fangs, teeth, and the outline of his jaws and eye sockets. Everything else was hard to decipher past that point.
Gregory blinked. How… how was he supposed to react to this? Wasn't Freddy supposed to be trying to kill him?
Then, the music ceased, and the lights went out. Faintly, he could see two red lights behind his pupils three feet from him.
Gregory yelped and whipped out his camera. He shut his eyes tight and clicked the button. Freddy roared at the intense flash and Gregory himself flinched. He stashed his camera away and ran into the parking garage. He pulled out his flashlight and Fazerblaster. Freddy's feet thumped behind him. Gregory turned back to shoot. The only targets he had were two red dots. He shot and faced forward again as Freddy snarled and the red lights turned off. He barely had time to dodge obstacles and had to run up a slope at one point.
Gregory stopped as he nearly ran into another wall. "Stupid flashlight!" he spat. He turned to shoot Freddy again. Nothing happened. The light meter on the edge of the Fazerblaster had run completely out. His eyes went wide, and he stared up at the red lights.
Then, he set his gaze and turned to Freddy. "I'm not afraid of you!" he yelled and puffed up. "I'm even less afraid of that stupid rabbit!"
Freddy stopped. His teeth, claws, and accessories gleamed in Gregory's flashlight while the rest of his shell accumulated dust and dirt.
"I just got tossed into a garbage smasher! You think you're scarier than that? Ha! You're nothing compared to that! In fact, I stole Chica's beak! She dragged me with her, so I took her beak and voice box! Do you want me to rip out your stupid music box? I'll turn you into scrap metal!"
The lights on Gregory's Fazerblaster recharged. He shot Freddy in the face and darted off again. Finally, he found a chain-link door in a chain-link fence to run into. He yanked it open, slipped through, and shut it behind himself. It wouldn't afford him much time, but the bear was much larger than him so it would give him some time, at least.
The tunnel zig-zagged and a metal staircase led up to a tunnel with a ground of mismatched metal floor and a wall of tubing. Strangely, the thumping stopped behind him. Gregory chanced a look back. Far back, two red eyes peeked over the bottom of the stairs and a headache crept in. He turned ahead again. He left the tunnel and stopped before a set of massive doors. He pushed his way through and shoved the door behind himself with a hard thunk. When he tried opening it again, it clunked and wouldn't budge. Hopefully, that meant it was locked from both sides.
A few candles barely lit up their places covered in sticky notes but provided little light outside of that. He still hurried over the storm of sticky notes covering every surface and up the square spiral lime green staircase. Light not his own trickled in from above and he felt his legs almost give out from under him. He forced himself not to run the rest of the way up the metal staircase and into the cement landing littered with paint cans, lined with shelves, and holding a huge red tool cabinet. A few feet away was a chain link door through a chain link fence. The light source came through there from the buzzing, elongated ceiling lights in the laundry mat.
The time was four-forty am.
Wheezing and gasping, nerves frayed and heart still pounding at a million miles an hour, Gregory shut the fence door behind himself and staggered back to the kitchen.