"Hi! This is Elise. Yes. Yup! No...haha. Yes! YES! WE WON! I know! Totally! Oh, do you want to talk to Steve? Here he is."
Steve took the phone. Elise mouthed, it's Kenny.
"Oh, hey Kenny! Long time no see."
"Grunt."
"Um... congratulations on winning the contest!"
"Grunt!"
"Very true."
"Grunt."
"Well, I've got to go...check the microwave. Have a nice day!"
"Grunt!"
Steve pressed the end call button and sighed. It wasn't that he didn't like Kenny, it was just that he couldn't speak his language like Elise seemed to be able to do.
Elise was cheerfully humming away, doodling in the margins of her sketchbook. With Steve's help, Elise had won the competition, and their robot, Maggie, was soon to join the Fazbear Four! Well, it will be the Fazbear Five soon.
Steve pressed the stop button and grabbed his pizza pop from the microwave. He flipped it over and took a big bite.
He recoiled. Ew. It was frozen solid! He set it down on the plate and put it in again for another minute.
While he was waiting, Steve looked around the room. The crowd had certainly shrunk over the past month or so. Just after his daughter's third birthday, ten people had quit. Ten! In a day! It was crazy, although it did seem like a smart idea with how many kids had gone missing or died.
And then there was...William. To be honest, after last week's...moment with the door, Steve didn't really feel safe around him. Even though he was his boss, something about him had changed. Which was to be expected after losing so much, but he seemed a lot more... dangerous, if that made sense.
The beeping of the microwave broke Steve from his thoughts. He opened it up and took another bite of his pizza pop.
Ew! Why wouldn't it cook right!
"Hey, Steve! C'mere!" Malik, another engineer, waved him over from the back. Steve waved and wandered over to him.
"Hey man. What's up?" He asked.
Malik pointed to his friend, Kyle, who was holding a delicious-looking container of spaghetti. "We noticed you were having trouble with your microwave over there. Wanna use ours?"
Steve smiled. "Sure." He grabbed his pizza pop and opened the microwave door.
"AHH!" Something grabbed his finger! He shook desperately trying to tear it off. He felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around.
"Hey! Dude, stop! It's just a finger trap!" Malik yelled. "We were just pranking you. Chill. Here, show me your finger."
Steve had a choice finger that wasn't trapped that he'd like to show Malik, but kept his cool and let Malik do his thing. With expert hands, he pulled the trap off Steve's finger.
"See? All good. You can use our microwave now."
Steve smiled and set his pizza pop in the microwave yet again. "Sorry I freaked out on you. I've just been a little tense recently." Steve took a seat on a nearby plastic folding chair.
Kyle held up his hands. "All good, bro. This place is mad creepy. Except for that Christian guy. I like him. We play Fort Night together."
Steve laughed. It had been a while since he'd spoken to Christian, who still thought his name was Steven or Sophie or whatever.
The microwave beeped and Steve took the bun out. Nervously, he took a little bite.
Mmm. Perfection!
Steve grinned. "Thanks, guys. Have a nice day!"
"You too!" Malik called.
As he was walking away, pizza pop devoured and stomach satisfied, he again felt that strange urge to walk down the stairs and open the rusty red door. Why? What was so important about it?
Steve glanced around. He didn't see anyone around that could spot him. The few people that were still there; Elise, Queen, Malik, Kyle, Linda, some guy named Paul who'd lent him a wrench the other day, and five others that Steve didn't know the names of, were all hard at work. Nobody would notice if he took a quick peek. It wouldn't hurt anyone!
Steve took a deep breath and ran down the stairs. His hand rested on top of the doorknob. He could hear a mechanical whirring coming from inside. Which made sense. He closed his eyes...and turned the handle.
Steve stepped into the room and collided into an object that seemed vaguely like a box, or that's what he assumed. The room was bleak, cold and completely dark. It was quiet and somber in there and he felt a chill run up his spine as the darkness engulfed him. It was the most piercing darkness ever - it was not merely the darkness that came out of absence of light, it was much more sinister. There was nothing warm and inviting about the place. Steve felt like cold and clammy hands were reaching out, grabbing his ankles, pulling his hair, dragging him down. He felt a million little eyes watching his every move, disembodied heads whispering words of anxiety in his ears. Shivering and shaking, he desperately felt up the wall for a light switch. He could feel some sort of cold metal rod pressed against his other arm.
Phew. There it was, a switch. Steve had nyctophobia, and being in the dark for long periods of time could cause anxiety or even panic attacks. In his house, every room had a night light. He'd faced bullies in the past who teased him about it, but luckily his wife was supportive and helped him cope.
Steve flicked the switch.
He yelped as the metal rod burned to life, causing an ugly red burn on the skin just below his left shoulder. He clutched it and grit his teeth to stop any more noises that could alarm the people upstairs of his whereabouts.
Down here, nobody can hear you scream, came the little voice in the back of his head.
Shut up, stupid voice!
The room lit by the flaming metal rods (weird way to light someplace) Steve took the time to look around. It was pretty much empty, or at least minimalistic for the most part. There were boxes everywhere, labeled 'Posters' or 'Plates & Cups' or 'Blue+Red Balloons', and it looked like a storage room from that. A completely normal storage room. Or at least, that's what it looked like to him, until Steve turned around.
It was just a simple chalkboard. Nothing to be worried about, right? Except for what was scrawled on it, the five letters taking up all the space.
It's Me.
The chalk lay broken on the floor in front of it.
Steve gulped. The itchy, cold feeling was back. Noticing it was one of those chalkboards that you could flip over, he nervously did so.
You know those detective shows? The ones where they'd have a bulletin board, with photographs or snippets of newspaper articles, or someone's old shoe. Then they connect it with pins and red string to find the culprit.
This was exactly that. Only, instead of trying to catch a culprit, it looked like the person who'd made this was the culprit.
There were children. Charlotte Emily, the three Afton kids, Henry...the only one left was William, who wasn't there for some reason.
Steve inspected another list, this one with more names.
'Aurora Marion-Ezra has a daughter and just had a son, use the son for fuel?'
'Testing on Lena unsuccessful, removed the body.'
'Testing on Elijah unsuccessful, removed the body.'
'Testing on Charlie successful!'
'Testing on the six successful! I was nervous, but I killed them and contained them! Our family is growing.'
'Red serum proved successful for me.'
'Red serum proved successful for all blood types!'
'Blue serum unsuccessful on those with B+ blood type. All died.'
'Blue serum proved successful for both me and him! Very exciting.'
Steve dropped this list and shook his body. He felt light-headed. Whoever owned this place must have been the Fazbear killer! And he stumbled into it...he had to get out. He had to get out and warn everyone, tell everyone! He had to-
Suddenly, a hand clapped over his mouth. The other held a wet linen washcloth to his nose. Steve held his breath, but it eventually got to be too much for him and he breathed in deep. The world spun black as he looked into a pair of flat silver eyes.
Steve slowly blinked his eyes open. Ugh. I feel drugged.
His head weighed a million tons, and he couldn't move his hands or legs. He felt tied to the chair he was sitting in.
Wait. He was tied to the chair he was sitting in!
Steve blinked his eyes open with a start. He looked around. Same room. Steve could feel a gag in his mouth. He looked down and saw his hands and legs tied together, and tied to the chair. Steve rocked back and forth, trying to escape his confines like Houdini. Only this wasn't a magic trick.
"Don't struggle. You'll only make it worse." A smooth voice came from behind him.
Steve angrily yelled into the gag. Nothing.
The person stepped in front of him, twirled and did a little bow. They had a cocky smirk on their face.
Steve wasn't even surprised, at this point. The man himself, William Afton.
"I hope you don't bite." William drawled as he undid the gag in his mouth.
Steve spat on the floor, coughing a few times, then turned his angry gaze towards William. He had so many questions. And so many insults to hurl at the murderer.
"Why am I here? Why did you kill those kids? Why did you-"
William put a finger to his lips. "Shush. All in good time, my friend."
Steve didn't comply. "What are you testing? What is this place? Where are the-"
"Steve. Considering I am a serial killer, and could easily murder you, your family, and everyone in this pizzeria, I suggest you shut your mouth and stop being so bitchy about it."
Steve wisely closed his mouth.
"Attaboy. Now, I'm guessing that you are wondering why I killed those-"
"Innocent young children. Yeah, I'd say that's the main question on my mind right now!" Steve spat.
William flashed a warning look and pointed to the photographs on the bulletin board.
"Nobody's innocent, Steve. I'll bet that boy there kills birds with rocks for fun, that girl scams and bullies kids online, and that other girl definitely watches. Humans all have a guilty pleasure, or a dark secret. None of them were completely innocent. And neither are you, or me, or anyone on this goddamn planet."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Yeah, except your's happens to be killing children. One of these things is not like the others."
William shook his head. "You don't get it, do you. I didn't kill them just for fun. I killed them because- because...well, I wanted a family. Or I wanted to rebuild my family, so to speak. And now I've got one! So don't you worry about me." William crossed his arms.
Steve wasn't impressed. "Why are you even telling me all this? I don't care about you and your soap opera life. And killing kids isn't exactly the correct route to go if you want a family. I'd start with finding someone who actually cares about you, maybe striking up a conversation, taking them out to dinner- oh wait! There's a major flaw in this plan: NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOU. You know why? Because you killed them all. You murdered all the people who ever loved you. You killed Henry's daughter. Now is that the right way to go about a friendship-"
William's hands were at his throat. Steve couldn't breathe. His face went red.
"Shut. Up." William snarled. "You don't know anything about me, or Henry, or anything. I didn't mean for Elizabeth to fall into the trap. I didn't mean for Evan to be killed by his brother. I don't care about Clara. And Henry was wrong. He said 'oh, don't you worry, your children will be safe! Here at Freddy's, we prioritize safety above all else.' Bullshit. If Freddy's going to take children from me, then I'll take children from Freddy's."
Steve's world was going fuzzy. His face turned blue. He knew he'd been treading on thin ice, he just hoped he didn't fully break it.
He'd simply cracked the ice. William finally let go of his throat, and Steve coughed and sucked in sweet, sweet oxygen.
"Why am I telling you all this? Well, you'll be dead in five minutes, so why not get this out of my system? It's been a while since I killed someone, been forever since I felt the life ebb from a body."
"You are a disgusting human being." Steve deadpanned.
"No, I'm simply taking advantage of a loophole in reality, dear Steve. The magic of science, the science of magic."
He's crazy. Sadistic, bonkers, mad, Steve thought
William hummed as he made his way over to a countertop. He selected a knife and went to clean it.
Steve closed his eyes and mentally cursed himself for being so stupid. But now was not the time to criticize himself. He needed a plan. He needed to escape in only five minutes. Think, think…
Wait. He had it! When he and Stella were first dating, they'd gone to a self-defense class that taught them exactly this. And luckily, Steve was rather skinny. This shouldn't be too hard…
He got to work on his legs. He twisted them, slipped one foot on top of the other, twisted and...yes! With his left leg free, his right leg slipped out even easier.
Hands. This one was slightly trickier. The rope was thick and dug into his wrists, rubbing them raw and red. He'd been told he had skinny wrists, so maybe that would make it a bit easier.
Twist...there's the rope. Pull, rock-
William spun around.
"Enjoying yourself?" He trilled.
Steve flashed him a grin and quickly rearranged his arms and legs into a tied-up sort of position.
"Oh, very much. Always wanted to be tied up and threatened with knives." His voice dripped with sarcasm.
William chuckled. "Didn't know you were into that. See, I told you not everyone was innocent." He went back to sharpening his knife and humming.
Steve rolled his eyes and went back to the ropes. Pull, twist, rock and...yes! The rope came undone. Quietly, Steve glanced around the room. There was the exit. If he was fast, he could probably make it out and make a dash for his car, home, and safety.
Steve quietly stood up and s-l-o-w-l-y made his way over the boxes and closer to the exit. Closer, closer…
Oh shit.
"Howdy! I'm Chipper the beaver! I wanna sing you a song! Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O!"
Steve and William made eye contact, none of them moving. Steve raised his foot off the singing beaver plushie he'd stepped on and activated, his face going red. Neither of the two men moved a muscle.
Then William laughed and ran towards him, brandishing his sharp, polished knife.
The three hours of training Stella made him do were kicking in now. "You never know when some crazy weirdo is gonna come rushing at you!" Stella had chirped cheerfully, practising her high kicks while Steve was sweating his brains out.
Steve took a deep breath…
And kicked him in the stomach.
Steve had read about this. It'll stun them, giving you a chance to run. William gasped and choked for breath. Steve took this opportunity to make a mad dash up the stairs.
William coughed and stood up. He knew he wouldn't be able to follow him out. Slaughtering a worker with a knife didn't make the best impression on people. But he knew too much…
"Steve! Wait. I'm not stupid, I can't follow you out. But if you tell a single soul, I'll kill you. And I don't care who sees it. And heed this warning...you'll regret ever coming down here. I'll find your family! And I'll kill you all! I'll kill them first so you can watch! I'll-"
"You done with your stupid evil monologue? I've got a sports game to watch."
Rage filled William's voice.
"YOU'RE FIRED!"
Calmly, Steve called back. "I know!"
He sped out of the room, panting, leaving William behind.
Elise came up to him, worry painted across her face.
"Steve, what's wrong? You look like a ripe tomato, and you're out of breath!"
Steve shook his head.
"Elise, I can't stay here. It's too dangerous. Please, I'm begging you, quit this job. Go work on your family's farm. Live a long life. Meet someone nice, raise a family, you'll make a wonderful grandmother. I've got to go." Steve told her.
Elise gave him a sad smile, and a quick hug.
"Goodbye, Steve Anderson."
"Goodbye, Elise Newberry."
"I'm home!" Steve called. He hung his black rain jacket on the coat hanger and awaited his family.
"Daddyyyyy!" His daughter ran towards him and hugged his legs, she was too short.
"Hey, sweetie. How was your day?" Steve lifted her up and hugged her close.
"Good. We're having panny fakes!" She flipped her wavy blonde hair and blinked her large hazel eyes. The hair she got from Steve, the eyes, from Stella.
"Panny fakes sounds wonderful." Steve set her on the ground. Panny fakes were her favourite food, yet she couldn't yet say pancakes. It was cute.
"Hey, honey. How was work?" Stella asked, flipping a pancake with expertise.
"Uh, not great. I, um, quit. It was just too dangerous, and I didn't want to risk it." Steve sighed. It wasn't completely a lie, he just wasn't telling the full truth.
Stella gave him a sad smile. "That's okay. That place is creepy, anyways. And I'll be starting up work again, so I think we can manage."
"Panny fakes?" His daughter looked up from playing with socks. For some reason, they were her favourite playthings. Steve didn't object. Free and toddler-safe, and they kept her quiet and entertained for hours.
"Yeah, let's eat." Steve smiled.
Steve woke up in the middle of the night. He groaned and checked the time, then sat up and rubbed his eyes. He'd only gotten two hours of sleep. And when he closed his eyes, all he got were nightmares.
He turned to the side to look at Stella.
But she wasn't there.
Chill, he told himself. She's probably just in the bathroom or getting a drink of water or something. But there was still a little snake of unease that slithered up his spine, coiling around it and threatening to squeeze so hard he'd break.
Maybe I'll go and check on my daughter. That'll make me happier. Steve told himself. He got up and put on his white terry-cloth robe and matching slippers.
Steve walked down the hallway. The house was eerily quiet. Dead silent. He creaked open her door. See, he told himself. She's right there-
She's gone.
The window is open.
The snake coiled around his heart and his gut and squeezed tighter. Steve banged open the door and ran over to her bed. All that was left was...a note!
He read it carefully.
Dear Steve,
Wow, you really are a heavy sleeper! I'll remember that. Now, I've killed your lovely wife and destroyed the body. Your daughter I've taken to a location you won't find. If you try to find her, or alert anyone about her disappearance, I'll kill her and then you. Slowly. Anyways, I've prepared fake medical documents for a fake disease that claimed the lives of your delightful family. I suggest you move out of Hurricane, what you do next is your decision.
Have a happy life, enjoy it while it lasts!
From, your pal, William (a heart was next to this)
P.S, this ink will disappear in twenty-four hours. Destroy the rest of it.
Steve crumpled to the floor and sobbed. His family, his whole life, his everything. Gone. Just like that. And he knew that William wouldn't lie, he wouldn't gain much from it. He'd probably do tests on her, torture her...but he couldn't do anything about it.
For a long while he sat on the floor, thinking and crying. He debated suicide, but opted against it. His daughter was a smart little girl. Maybe someday, she'd make it out alive. And then they could be reunited once again.
I'll miss you so much, he thought. My dearest daughter…
Ruby.