This is the first full chapter, but first I must explain. This is my first ever story. I have no practice, skill or talent for writing. I don't really even enjoy it, but I want to give it a try. I'm just a one man team, so no editor or proof reader. If I miss anything, I apologize ahead of time. I also have a life outside of writing, so updates won't be regular at first, if ever. I'm trying my best to find the motivation to sit and write. I will update more frequently if I gain an audience. anyways, enjoy chapter 2.
Gasping as his light gray eyes shot open, a young man in his early twenties awoke with a start from an already fading nightmare. He let the breath he was holding out as the small amount of adrenaline worked its way out of his system. He rubbed his eyes and yawned as he shut the alarm that was blaring from the bedside table off and stood up. He smiled as he picked out clothes, talking quietly to himself. "Today is finally here. I can't forget anything before leaving. What should I wear?" He looked towards his more formal clothing. "Maybe. No, I think I'm going straight there after to look and it looks pretty rough. Possibility of getting stains is too high to be wearing my nice stuff." He settled on his usual black tee-shirt and blue jeans, deciding on functionality before fashion. He made his way out into the living room and straight for the bathroom on the other side of the decent sized apartment.
As he finished brushing out his near black hair and doing his business he walked out into the attached kitchenette for a measly breakfast of three blueberry waffles and day old sweet tea. With a quick brushing of his teeth and grabbing a backpack resting next to the door, he was off.
The man pulled up to the bank in a mostly restored matte black 1974 chevy nova, parking in a space near the front door. He shut the car off and hopped out. As he walked up to the front counter, he pulled out a torn corner of notebook paper from his pocket and set it down.
"How can I help you?" the slightly younger woman behind the counter asked with a smile.
"Just here to sign papers from the online auction." the man replied with a gleeful smirk. "The guy I talked to on the phone gave me this information on Friday after the auction." She nodded and looked at the paper for a moment. She went pale almost immediately and set the paper down a little forcefully. "Do you happen to know what you bid on, right?" she asked, her voice lowered a bit. He didn't seem to notice as he nodded. "Of course I do. I loved the place as a kid. Where's Mr. Woodard's office by chance?" The receptionist pointed down a hall to her left, glancing at the paper again. "Third door down on the right side."
--
As the final line was signed with the name Grey Bloodhound, the tall man with the name tag Woodard grabbed the stack of papers and lined them up. He clipped the papers together and stashed them in a filing cabinet against the wall. "Well, Mr. B, you are now officially the owner of the long abandoned Freddy's. I wish you the best of luck in whatever may come your way." Woodard said with a smile.
Grey smiled in return. "Thanks. I assure you that the building has fallen into good hands."
Woodard shook his head, smile faltering. "I'd rather see it burned to the ground and sealed off beneath a memoriam for the lost ones." He sighed and stroked his mustache. "But I'm glad that if anyone has taken it, it's you. You'll do good with that husk of a building. Are you planning on going straight there?"
"Yeah. I need to see the inside before anything." He stood up and turned to leave. "Thank you for all your help, Mr. W. I couldn't have done this without you." With that, he left.
Grey was driving north, heading to the edge of city limits where the old building sat. He pulled off into the pothole ravaged parking lot, parking directly in front of the main doors. He shut the car off and looked around his new project. The ruins stood silently amidst the busy highway just a short distance back. What remained of neon lights, dark and shattered was all that hinted at a once bright past. Most windows in sight were protected by rusted shutters or rotting wood to prevent anyone from even seeing the inside. The doors were held shut by a small, rusted chain and a fairly cheap padlock. The once vibrant cream paint had faded to an off white that gave a depressing look to the outer frame. Dead weeds had grown thick along the edge of the building and through the parking lot.
Grey sighed, running a hand through his hair. He walked around and got into the large trunk of the car, pulling out multiple large sports bags that were stuffed full of different tools and some clean-up supplies. As the bags were set by the door, Grey grabbed a cordless grinder and set to cutting the chains.
--
Years of silence; of loneliness. Reputation, family, happiness and even his purpose was ripped away from him oh so long ago. Freddy Fazbear sat alone on the old stage, stuck in a type of limbo. Joints long rusted and motors seized, his systems had been shut down into a power savings mode, awaiting the last of the batteries to drain. Although not externally awake, he was still very much alive in his own head. With his computer awaiting external stimulus or a charge to awaken to full capacity, time seemed to move much faster as the bear watched days then months then years tick by, unable to do anything but wait for death. What awaited him after it was all over, he wondered solemnly. Did he get to go to heaven, or was it simply over? He had given up hope a year after he locked the others away. The clock suddenly stopped. Freddy was confused, scared even, as the minutes slowed to a crawl.
There was a muffled noise, something he hadn't heard in a long time. It didn't give him hope though. What battery he had would last him a month longer in this state, but if people were coming back after all this time, they were back to scrap him. 'This is it...' he thought as his systems powered on for the last time. 'One last look around. One last goodbye to all that I've lost. I just hope they don't find the others. Or that they are at least merciful.' His dirt covered cameras blinked on as he heard the front door swung open.