I'm back!
I know that it's been two months since the last chapter, but I had other priories that I could not afford to ignore, so the story has been on the backburner.
However, it is here at last and it is a long one.
I struggled with this one a bit, trying to make sure that the language doesn't come over as boring, so it underwent several rewrites before I wrote up the final draft.
I will simply upload when I can, but thank you for your patience.
Strange to think that FNAF is still going strong even though the series has largely ended following Ultimate Custom Night back in June and the last FNAF Book, the Fourth Closet.
Although if anyone has seen Scott's post on Steam, you'll know that he isn't done with FNAF just yet, with incoming VR and Console Port Games.
And then there's the movie, he's written a final draft for the first film and it will be based on the games, although I suspect that he'll tweak the story slightly to give it a mysterious edge.
To Guest and May07, thank you very much for your reviews and for following the story, it's nice to know that people are enjoying it.
Also, many thanks to Jack0lanterns, xcottonxqueenx, Disasterteen13 and Jose Adrian Araux Sanchez for favouriting/following this story, there's much more to follow I can assure you.
Please enjoy. . .
Chapter 35.
Monsters Are Made, Not Born.
"This time, there is more than an illusion to fear!"
Nightmare Fredbear from Ultimate Custom Night.
"I won't let you die, because this is not where your story ends," Rachel whispered gently, gripping Balloon Boy tightly in a warm embrace so to calm his nerves.
Even though she was a child like him, she quickly became the more 'adult' of the two.
"How, I'm trapped on all sides," BB groaned, trying to wipe away his tears.
"Yes, but they don't know that do they?" Rachel replied warmly as BB felt her hair brush past his.
He didn't know whether she was physically here with him, or whether that through his senses she was somehow creating that impression. Either way, it felt nice to have a companion in this life or death struggle that he was unfortunate enough to find himself in. She was right though, the possessed prop suits didn't know where he was. They had no idea that they held a golden opportunity to get their long overdue vengeance.
There was a brief pause before Rachel spoke again.
"Do you remember. . ."
Another pause came, amidst the various sounds of the possessed prop suits moving about in the dark.
"Back when we were hunting the nightguard, you used to throw your voice and make them think that you were somewhere else?"
"Yeah, I do," BB whispered back, although he spoke in his mind, his voice sounded heavy and tired, but he was interested. He could easily guess what she was going to say next, but he let her continue.
"My advice, throw your voice as far as you can, wait for them to move and then go," she stated clearly.
"I can throw my voice when laughing, but I've never do it when speaking naturally," he mentally replied in a rather plain tone.
"Then now is the time," she answered back, tightening her hold on him.
"Rachel?" he asked sully.
"Yes," she replied, her voice was soft and gentle.
"What was it like to die?"
There was a brief noticeable pause, she was properly casting her mind back to her last day of living.
"I remember it well, it was very painful, but also very quick at the same time."
Another pause.
"I would not recommend it to anyone, for it's a memory that you can never forget," she whispered.
Suddenly there came a loud stomp out of the dark, just in front of BB's position.
It was followed by the sound of joints creaking, but so far none of the possessed prop suits had found him. Maybe they were just waiting for him to slip up and reveal his location. At least he roughly knew where three of them were. As for the other three, it was anyone's guess where they might be.
"You need to be brave, you will win, these horrors, these ghosts are still people, somewhere deep inside is their humanity," Rachel whispered calmly. "They just want to see their families again, and then ascend into the light."
Balloon Boy gently lifted his head from his knees and sighed before answering back with.
"They want to kill me, because I killed them."
"I know and I'm truly sorry for forcing you to do that, I can never stop apologising for what I did," Rachel whispered, sounding very downtrodden, like those acts had become an immense weight on her soul.
"Hatred can be a strong anchor point for the dead, but it can also become. . .addictive."
"Very, very, addictive."
BB knew what she meant.
It was a craving that never ended and was extremely difficult to get out of.
Mike Schimdt himself would definitely agree, seeing how they nearly killed him on several occasions.
The act itself had felt so good. . .but only for a few seconds.
BB sighed deeply, before returning to the matter at hand. "Rachel, I am being forced to play a game of cat and mouse in a memory; and in order to get out, I need to get an item from Party Rooms 2, 3 and 4."
"I can get to Party Room two by means of the vent, but three and four are locked out, and I need to type in a three digit code to unlock each door and gain entry."
"And it involves finding a random set of numbers, which requires a light source to see, and everything else in here is dead, including the flashlight."
He knew that he was giving her a lot of information, but he had to lay everything out, so she could stand a chance of helping him in his dilemma.
"Can you help me please?"
There was a long drawn out silence which made BB evermore nervous. Oddly enough, the noises from the nearby possessed prop suits had died down considerably.
Even 'David' had ceased screaming his head off.
Eventually Rachel responded.
"Well. . .any outsider would say that we are screwed."
"We?" BB asked.
If Rachel could roll her eyes, then she properly was doing. "I'm attached to you, aren't I?" she replied with a hint of sarcasm. "Oh right," BB muttered sheepishly. "Is the flashlight dead?" Rachel asked, letting the moment pass. "The light died when it hit the floor, I don't think it's working anymore," BB answered back, rather sullenly.
"Try to shake it and point it directly at the floor, keep it very close to the ground so they don't see?" Rachel urged, encouraging him to try.
Balloon Boy slowly reached out, picked up the flashlight and held it just inches from the floor. He shook it rapidly from side to side and then he pressed the on switch. There was a light and it was bright, but because he was holding it so close to the floor, its range was drastically shortened and far beyond any preying eyes.
He mentally breathed a sigh of relief to which Rachel giggled.
"We are not dead yet," he muttered softly.
"Now throw your voice, wait for them to move and get to the Party Rooms," Rachel replied, sounding rather pleased with BB's frame of mind. Determination replaced despair, that had previously held a tight grip on his soul as Balloon Boy slowly rose to his feet.
Creak
Groan
Stomp
He could hear them wandering about in the dark, still trying to find him.
He had to give them credit for their determination, they would be hard to shake off.
He cupped his mouth with his hands.
"Please work, I ask for nothing else but to see another day," he mentally begged, hoping that fate would hear him.
He closed his eyes and opened his mouth.
"Damit!"
No words erupted out of his mouth, instead they came from far away in the darkness.
And it awoke a nest of irritated vipers.
"G…A…M…E O…V…E…R B…B!" {GAME OVER BB!} 'David' screamed, instantly turning in the direction of the yell and sprinted towards it, making his worn out body groan in protest. Sounds of gears shifting and metal moaning came from in front of BB; as the second possessed prop suit now followed its comrade's direction. And finally, there came similar sounds from the doorway of the main hallway, as the third possessed prop suit also made its move.
"I…T'S P…A…Y D…A…Y!" {IT'S PAY DAY!} 'Jessica' sneered, forcing her old joints to move.
Internally Balloon Boy smirked.
"Jokes on you Jessica, happy hunting though," he mentally chuckled, waiting for the right opportunity to make good his escape.
He stood there in the dark, listening to the sounds of his enemies wandering off to what would be a major disappointment.
But by then he would be long gone.
A few seconds passed by, with the sounds of neck joints clicking, feet stomping and gears shifting, drifting over from the door to the stage area.
Balloon Boy had a clear escape route lined out for him, and he took it within a heartbeat. Although, he wondered how long it would take for them to discover that it was just a ruse. But for now, if he could keep them off balance long enough, then they would never find him, chasing his cries in endless circles, always seeming so near and yet somehow out of reach.
Lure them into a labyrinth and keep them there.
"Rachel, there's six of them in total, I don't know where the other three are," he said, turning his focus on the matter at hand. "Don't think about it, just go to Party Rooms Three and then Four," Rachel answered firmly, mentally pushing him forward.
Balloon Boy moved quickly, but also silently so not to draw any further unwanted attention.
He soon reached Party Room Three, finding as expected a barred jail door.
"I unlocked the Party One door by finding that the posters on the wall had an unusual number of items on them that didn't exist before," he said, filling Rachel in. "Then check for the same thing, shine the light on the posters," she suggested, cutting straight to the most obvious solution.
BB pressed the on button, the flashlight flickered briefly before eventually stabilising.
He smiled, that's a start.
He then shone the light through the metal bars at the posters of the Toys, which were situated on the right wall towards the back.
And there it was as predicted, for on the poster of Toys Freddy, Bonnie and Chica were a set of stars. The posters themselves had been deliberately damaged and torn but the stars were still visible.
Two above Toy Freddy, five below Toy Bonnie and three next to Toy Chica.
Of course, there was more red writing around them, probably more insults, but that didn't matter.
He turned the flashlight off to preserve its battery and entered the door lock: 253.
Instantly, there was a grinding mechanical groan as the door slowly slid open. BB sneaked inside, he needed to be fast and get out before the others realised their error. Ignoring the pain that he could still feel in his neck, head and nose, which was still bleeding, he reached the posters.
Again, there was something odd about the Toy Bonnie poster, its left upper corner was peeling slightly. He grabbed it and slowly pulled, carefully tearing the poster off the wall. Falling away to the floor revealed a small hole carved into the wall, just like before.
Inside was a pirate's hook, it was clearly Foxy's, as no one else had one.
BB swiftly took it, before stuffing it into his other back trouser pocket.
"Good, now let's go to Party Room Tw-"
Rachel stopped talking as a series of mechanical groans filled the air. BB instantly turned in their direction towards the doorway that led out into the main hallway.
Someone was there.
"S…t…u…p…i…d c…h…i…l…d f…o…o…l…i…n…g u…s, h…e c…a…n o…n…l…y h…i…d…e i…n c…e…r…t…a…i…n p…l…a…c…e…s," {Stupid child fooling us, he can only hide in certain places,} a strained voice muttered in a mixed tone of frustration and bitterness.
Balloon Boy recognised the voice, he felt a wave of nostalgia and remorse hit him.
"Richard, good to see you again…I suppose," he mentally whispered.
There came the stomps of heavy footsteps hitting the floor as the body forced itself to move. BB would simply wait for him to pass by. It wasn't worth attempting to throw his voice, not now at least. The footsteps continued, walking by the room he was in. . .and then they abruptly stopped.
BB's heart froze, he knew what was up.
The footsteps came again, getting closer as 'Richard' entered the room.
Neck joints shifted, internal gears creaked and groaned, but BB remained completely still.
"W…e…l…l w…e…l…l w…e…l…l, t…h…i…s i…s a c…h…a…n…g…e," {Well well well, this is a change,} 'Richard' remarked in a calm manner, as if he was slowly processing the situation that lay before him.
"I w…o…n…d…e…r w…h…y t…h…i…s d…o…o…r i…s o…p…e…n?" {I wonder why this door is open?}
Obviously, he knew why it was open and who opened it. His neck emitted several mechanical clicks as he looked from left to right. There was a heavy groan from his internal gears as he stepped forward, followed by a mechanical snap as he gripped the table with his hands.
"Y...o…u k…n…o…w B…B, I w…i…l…l a…d…m…i…t t…h…a…t t…h…i…s i…s n…o…t h…o…w I i…m…a…g…i…n…e…d m…y d…e…a…t…h," {You know BB, this is not how I imagined my death} he remarked casually.
It was quite a bold move for him to assume that Balloon Boy was in here, just because the door was open. He could be somewhere else for all 'Richard' knew and he would simply be talking out loud to an empty room.
Then again, maybe he was just voicing his frustrations, letting off some steam, either theory was possible.
'Richard' took another step forward, resulting in a heavy metallic thud, as his foot made sharp contact with the tile floor. There was of course another creaking groan as his leg joints moved, being bent in a manoeuvre that they were not designed to perform.
"I d…o n…o…t k…n…o…w w…h…y y…o…u a…n…d t…h…e o…t…h…e…r…s k…i…l…l…e…d m…e," {I do not know why you and the others killed me,} he muttered, sounding very confused. Although in his position it was understandable.
He suddenly growled in frustration.
"I…t i…s c…r…a…m…p…e…d i…n…h…e….r…e, w…i…t…h m…y c…r…o….p…s…e e…n…t…w…i…n…e…d w..i…t…h s…p…r…i…n…g l…o…c…k…s, a...n…d G…o…d k…n…o…w…s w…h…a…t e…l…s…e." {It is cramped in here with my corpse entwined with spring locks, and God knows what else.}
"T…h…e p…a…i…n t…h…a...t I f…e…e…l i…s e…t…e…r…n…a…l, a…n…d I b…l...a…m…e y…o…u f…o…r i…t B…B," {The pain that I feel is eternal, and I blame you for it BB,}
He then gave a dark chuckle, possibly leaning over the table as he spoke.
"I n…e…v…e…r t…u…r…l…y b…e…l…i…e…v…e…d i…n t…h…e s…u…p…e….r…n…a….t…u…r…a…l u…n…t…i…l n…o…w," {I never truly believed in the supernatural, until now,} he said in a smug tone, despite the strong robotic element in his voice.
"W…h…o w…o…u…l…d h…a…v…e t…h…o…u…g….h…t t…h…a…t V…i…n…c…e…n…t A…f…t…o…n k…i…l…l…e…d t…h…o…s…e k…i…d…s, t…h…e s…h…a…d…y b…a…s…t…a…r…d." {Who would have thought that Vincent Afton killed those kids, the shady bastard.}
"Puppet knew, but she had no hard evidence to back up her claim," BB mentally muttered to himself.
"He covered his tracks well," Rachel added in a hushed tone, even though 'Richard' couldn't hear her and never would.
"M…e, g…e…t…t…i…n…g b…y k…i…l…l…e…d c...h…i…l…d…e…r…n, a…n…d t…h…e…n b…e...i…n…g f…o…r…c…e…f…u…l…l…y s…t…u….f….f…e…d i…n…t…o a s…u…i…t," {Me, getting killed by children, and then being forcefully stuffed into a suit,} 'Richard' remarked, sounding as if he was humoured by the strange turn of events.
He laughed again, although it was dry and sounded sad, which turned quickly into depression. "I a…m n…o…w a d…e…a…d m...a…n w…a…l…k…i…n…g." {I am now a dead man walking.} His raspy intakes for air suddenly became shaky, although BB couldn't see it, he imagined Richard's hands to be trembling.
"I…t t…o…o…k m…e a…g…e…s t…o d…i…e, a…n…d t…h…e…n d…a….r…k…n…e…s…s t…o…o…k m…e, b…u…t t…h…e a…g…o…n…i…s…i…n…g p…a…i…n d…i…d n…o…t c…e…a…s…e."
(It took me ages to die, and then darkness took me, but the agonising pain did not cease.}
"T…h…i…s i…s n…o…t l…i…v…i…n…g," {This is not living,} he muttered scornfully, his words were directed to the situation that he found himself in.
"T…h…i…s u…n…a…t…u…r…a…l, I d…o…n't w…a…n…t t…o b…e h…e...r...e, I w…a…n…t t…o g…o h…o…m…e!" {This is unnatural, I don't want to be here, I want to go home!}
He was clearly angry, but there was also a strong underlying tone of despair in his voice, a desire to break free from this living hell that he had been dropped into.
"I…T'S N…O…T F…A…I…R!" {IT'S NOT FAIR!} he screamed, slamming his hands down onto the table, making it shake.
His words maybe stretched out to the point where they were near impossible to be understood, but BB could hear the emotional weight behind them very clearly.
It was like a tidal wave of negativity that threaten to overspill and drown any hope for better days. Innocent lives had been taken without reason, a senseless act without remorse, carrying life changing conquences. Prospects had been destroyed beyond salvage, dreams and aspirations lost their meaning, and any joy that they held died with them.
Their world grew dark and lifeless, as the energy which had sustained it was drained, leaving it as a husk.
The rest of the world moved forward, while they were left behind.
The children who had been murdered had turned savage, becoming feral beasts. They had lost their humanity and became as cold and vile, as the evil that had claimed them. Even the Fazbears had become hard and stern in their demeanour, facing the world with a heartless indifference.
They had become content to live in a decaying world and would wait until they leave it the same way that everyone else does.
No one would attend their funerals, no one would care.
And now the nightguards who were clearly innocent of any wrong doing had been swallowed up by them, transforming into twisted versions of themselves.
Vincent took the children, who took over the Fazbears, and together they had taken the nightguards to their demise; and in return they would do the same to their killers. It was a never ending circle of vengeance upon vengeance. And in the end, they all wanted the same thing, they just wanted to move on.
Yet, that simple wish seemed to be too much to ask for these days.
Richard's voice filled the air again, breaking the silence that had briefly settled.
"I c…a…n…n…o…t l…e…a…v…e t…h…i…s p…l…a…c…e, I a…m s…t…u…c…k i…n t…h…i…s t…h…i…n…g!" {I cannot leave this place, I am stuck in this thing!} he growled, venting his frustration at his new look.
"T…h…i…s i…s m…o…r…e o…f a t…o…m…b t…h…a…n a b…o…d…y, w…i…t…h a…l…l i…t's b…l…o…o…d…y u…n…c…o…o…p…e…r…a…t…i…v…e p…a…r…t…s!" {This is more of a tomb than a body, with all its bloody uncooperative parts!} he hissed, immediately followed by multiple sounds.
The creaking mechanical groan of shifting gears, and joints being bent in ways that they were not supposed to echoed about the room. There were also several cracking sounds, that sounded like bones breaking and snapping.
The thing was, that prop suits were never meant to move, only be stationary. They were also never made with the intention of being worn like a springlock suit. It was a surprise that the night guards were even able to fit inside them when they were being shoved in by the possessed Fazbears.
Well. . . they mostly fitted.
"D…a…m, t…h…i…s t…h…i…n…g k…e…e…p…s o…n f…i…g…h…t…i…n…g m…e!" {Dam, this thing keeps on fighting me!} 'Richard' shouted, as the mechanical joints of his suit groaned even louder, refusing to move where he wanted them to.
"I H…A…T…E T…H…I…S T…H…I…N…G!" {I HATE THIS THING!} he roared, his voice was now more robotic in its tone, becoming a broken high pitch yell. It now sounded like he was shaking in it, wanting to break free from his rusty chains, but he knew that he wouldn't get very far without it.
"W…H…Y D…I…D Y…O…U H…A…V…E T…O K…I…L…L M…E?" {WHY DID YOU HAVE TO KILL ME?} he shrieked, his voice still retaining a strong robotic element even though he sounded murderous. Yet underneath that rage was a strong desire for answers, which were long overdue.
In truth, BB couldn't give him an answer, at least not one that would make sense, but he couldn't justify it.
Rachel however, being the one who had killed through BB's hands, could give an answer.
"I thought you were Purple Guy, I truly did," she answered, although only BB could hear her and that was nothing new to him.
"I N…E…V…E…R D…I…D A…N…Y…T…H…I…N…G B…A…D T…O Y…O…U O…R T…H…E O…T…H…E…R…S!" {I NEVER DID ANYTHING BAD TO YOU OR THE OTHERS!} 'Richard' cried, now he was almost sobbing, expressing his despair at the unfair situation which he had been dragged into.
"I W…A…S Y…O…U…R F…R…I…E…N…D!" {I WAS YOUR FRIEND!}
Again, that was also true, and BB felt more than a pang of guilt in his heart.
"I W…A…N…T T…O D…I…E!" {I WANT TO DIE!}
But he was already dead. . .
"I W…A…N…T T…O M…O…V…E O…N, B…U…T Y…O…U A…R…E K…E…E…P…I…N…G M…E T…R…A…P…P…E…D H…E…R…E!" {I WANT TO MOVE ON, BUT YOU ARE KEEPING ME TRAPPED HERE!}
That last line startled BB, making him slowly inch his way along the back wall. Trying to outflank 'Richard' and therefore reach the doorway and ultimately freedom. He feared that 'Richard' would now make his move and attack him, hoping that through killing BB he would be freed from his suffering.
How ironic, it was just the same mindset that the ghost children had back in the 80s and 90s. Killing who they thought to be Vincent Afton, so they could be free. However, it didn't work, because of a simple fatal misunderstanding in identity, but in Richard's case perhaps it would work, given that BB technically did kill him.
"H…O…W L…O…N…G H…A…S I…T B…E…E…N, T…H…E…Y S…A…Y 2…0…1…5, T…H…R…I…T…Y Y…E…A…R…S!" {HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN, THEY SAY 2015, THRITY YEARS!} 'Richard' sounded confused, dumb shock even.
"W…H…A…T A…B…O…U…T M…Y F…A…M…I…L…Y, W…H…E…R…E A…R…E T…H…E…Y!" {WHAT ABOUT MY FAMILY, WHERE ARE THEY!}
"H…o…w a…r…e t…h…e…y?" {How are they?}
His tone suddenly dropped at the last sentence, trailing off as if reality was sinking in, and he was having to process it. Then there erupted a mechanical clang, followed by a soft thud. It sounded like someone collapsing to their feet, and then having their head hit the table.
At least that's how BB imagined it, given that he couldn't see anything in front of him.
"H…o…w m…u…c…h h…a…v…e I m…i…s…s…e…d?" {How much have I missed?} 'Richard' asked out loud, still sounding shocked beyond anything.
"T…h…e…y'll b…e i…n t…h…e…i…r f…o…r…t…i…e…s b…y n…o…w." {They'll be in their forties by now.}
So much emotional sorrow was in his voice, even though it carried a strong robotic overtone, it still leaked through.
"C...a...n I e...v...e...r s...e...e t...h...e...m a...g...a...i...n?" {Can I ever see them again?}
As he spoke, most likely to himself, BB continued to steadily make his way across the room.
Given the direction of Richard's voice, he was probably now exactly opposite to him.
"B…u…t i…n t…h…i…s m…o…n…s…t…r…o…u…s f…o…r…m. . ." {But in this monstrous form. . .}
There was another mechanical grinding sound, as several gears shifted position when he turned about, probably examining himself.
"T…h…e…y w…o…u…l…d d…e…s…p…i…s…e m…e." {They would despise me.}
BB slowly sneaked sideways, moving through the pitch blackness to the far wall. He was ignoring Richard's voice, as he tried to focus on not making any noise.
"B…u…t w…e b…o…t…h k…n…o…w n…o…w B…B, a m…o…n…s…t…e…r d…o…e…s…n't h…a…v…e t…o l…o…o…k h…o…r…r…i…f…i…c o…n t…h…e o…u…t…s…i…d…e t…o b…e e…v…i…l." {"But we both know now BB, a monster doesn't have to look horrific on the outside to be evil.}
"I…t c…a…n e…a…s…i…l…y e…x…i…s…t w…i…t…h…i…n, a…n…d t…h…a…t's o…f…t…e…n t…h…e c…a…s…e. . .e…s…p…e…c…i…a…l…l…y w…i…t…h V…i…n…c…e…n…t A…f…t…o…n, a…n…d n…o…w y…o…u." {It can easily exist within, and that's often the case. . .especially with Vincent Afton, and now you.}
Yet, what he said next made BB stop dead in his tracks.
"D…o y…o…u f…e…e…l a…n…y g…u…i…l…t f…o…r w…h…a…t y…o…u t…w…o d…i…d?" {Do you feel any guilt for what you two did?}
Two. . .he must be referring to Rachel, seeing how he clearly knew about the ghost children having a role in his death.
"W…h…a…t i…s y…o…u…r n…a…m…e?" {What is your name?}
Yes, he was definitely referring to her, and he probably wouldn't let them leave without an answer.
Normally he would just ignore the possessed prop suit and keep on going, but 'Richard' wasn't hunting him, rather he was trying to engineer a conversation of sorts.
"W…h…a…t i…s y…o…u…r n…a…m…e c…h…i…l…d?" {What is your name child?} he asked again, in a plain tone which didn't appear to hide any sinister intentions.
"Should. . .should we speak to him?" Balloon Boy asked mentally, calling out to Rachel, who had so far remained silent.
"Maybe, his interest seems to be genuine, but then again, I was fooled by a friendly looking man in a golden suit with bunny ears who said a lot of nice things, so I am wary of such risks," she replied cautiously.
"I j…u…s…t w…a…n…t t…o k…n…o…w p…l…e…a…s…e?" {I just want to know. . .please?}
'Richard' sounded sincere with his question, a simple longing for confirmation for the reason of his death.
A dead man calling from his grave for answers that only a dead child could answer.
"A…t t…h…e e…n…d o…f t…h…e d…a…y, a…r…e w…e n…o…t h…u…m…a…n s…t…i…l…l?" {At the end of the day, are we not human still?}
Balloon Boy's heart soften at Richard's words.
He wanted to complete the game that he was playing. However, he felt that he had an opportunity to fix things, if he could get Rachel and 'Richard' to talk to one another. His gut twisted, he was wary of undertaking this idea, the other possessed prop suits were still out there, and if he revealed his location, then the only way out was blocked by a potential enemy.
Yet, the atomsphere around him felt different, there was no alarming sense of a threat to his life.
"Rachel, talk to him, he's clearly calling to you not me," he said mentally, calling out for her in his mind
"I think he is trustworthy, and this might be an opportunity to make amends for what we did."
There was a small pause before she answered.
"Ok, I'll talk, but should things get worse then we run, and I'll dictate that," her voice was calm, but decisive.
Having been killed once, she was in no rush to go through it again, even though she was a ghost, and would therefore survive the ordeal. Although she was willing to follow through with BB's idea, and he trusted her to be in control. To carry him to safety should it be required.
He closed his eyes, feeling a similar presence washing over him like a tide, and pushing him underneath it.
It was like he was drowning, as a warm force emerged from the depths of his subconsciousness and took over his body, becoming the main driver. He soon lost consciousness, like he had done so many times before, slipping into a semi dream like state with vivid images that flickered and swiftly passed him by.
The only thing he could feel was a collection of emotions which mentally linked him to Rachel.
Her thoughts
Her senses
Her feelings
He was no longer in control, but he could pick up on her mood, flowing around him like water around a rock.
In this dream like state, he was devoid of his actions, everything was in Rachel's hands now.
Normally he wouldn't know that she was in control, because she would possess him at night like the others, when they were all sleeping, so they felt no change take place. They were none the wiser to what happened at night, only to find in the morning that the night guard was missing from their post with their car still out front, and that the security office had been trashed.
And there would be blood strains leading them to one of the backrooms, where they would find. . .them.
He could feel Rachel's overriding sense of concern, fear and doubt. She was rightfully scared of what these 'monsters' could do should they catch them. Her sense of doubt came from whether forgiveness could be earned after all the horrible things that she had done in the name of revenge.
All of this due to a simple mistake in identity.
He could tell she was nervous, her emotions were flowing back to him like a flood, all stressed and fraught. And then she spoke through BB's mouth in a tense, frighten tone that was trying to come across as calm and collective, but failing miserably.
"I am Rachel, that's my name."
Her anxiety levels rose as the sounds of mechanical gears turning and joints creaking erupted from the other side of the room. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists tightly, knowing that the glow from her white dots for eyes were giving away her location.
Then there came the predictable stomps of mechanical feet, bending as they dragged themselves forward across the tile floor.
"W...h...y d...i…d y...o...u k...i...l...l m...e, I d...i...d n...o...t...h…i…n…g t…o h…a…r…m y…o…u?" {Why did you kill me, I did nothing to harm you?} 'Richard' demanded, now speaking sternly as he made his way over to her.
BB could feel the fear in her soar like an eagle as Rachel pressed herself up against the wall. The footsteps got louder as 'Richard' drew nearer. His rasped breathing echoed as it became evident that each breath intake sounded like a struggle, and each outtake was more like a vile hiss.
"W…a...s i…t f...u...n k...i...l...l...i...n...g m…e?" {Was it fun killing me?} he demanded in a frustrated tone, as he now was on top of her, followed by multiple creaking groans as he straightened himself. Although he was probably staring down at her, given the height difference between them.
Rachel was trembling in BB's body, every part of her was shaking with her eyes going wide, filling with dread. She found herself to be tongue-tied, unable to speak a single word, let alone mutter any sound.
"I…I,"
"S…p...e...a...k, p...l...e...a...s...e," {Speak, please,} 'Richard' ordered, eager to get a response of sorts.
Somehow, she was able to get her words out, although they were in a jumbled fashion.
"I thought you were him, minster Afton, I swear!"
Her panicked voice only stressed her vulnerability to him.
"I'm so sorry for what I did, but I really thought that you were him!"
Her focus was entirely on him, brushing anything else aside.
"D...i…d y…o…u n…o…w?" {Did you now?} 'Richard' muttered softly, his tone might suggest that he was quite calm about it all, but the tension between them said otherwise.
Then there came a small mechanical creak from immediately in front of her, she didn't know what it was, but she feared the worst.
Maybe he was gripping his fists.
"R...a...c...h...e…l," {Rachel,} he began, God it sounded so unclean as he said it in a stern like manner that left little to the imagination.
"H...o...w d...i...d I...t f...e...e...l f...o...r o...n...e s...o i...n...n...o...c...e...n...t t...o t...a...k...e a...n...o...t...h...e...r i...n...n...o...c...e...n...t l...i...f...e, a...n...d t...h...e...n a...n...o...t...h...e..r, a...g...a...i...n a...n...d a...g...a...i...n a...n...d a...g...a...i...n, u...n...t...i...l t...h...e...r...e w...a...s n...o...t...h...i…n...g i...n...n...o...c...e...n...t l...e...f...t i...n t...h...e w...o...r...l...d?" {How did it feel for one so innocent to take another innocent life, and then another, again and again and again, until there was nothing innocent left in the world?}
Rachel's lower lip of wobbled in fear, she knew what 'Richard' was referring to without a doubt.
How much blood can a victim spill before they lose sympathy?
When they become what they hate and are too blind to see it because their cause is just.
Thirty. . .thirty lives had been taken before she looked back at herself, dripping in blood and gore. Her white dots for eyes were burning with an irrational hated of a man that could never be found, no matter how hard she looked.
And then the reality of her actions came crashing into her like a tsunami, filling her with dread. How the hell can she move on, knowing what she did in those dark years?
Together, she and the others had killed more than Vincent ever had, and he was supposedly the bad guy in all of this.
Killing children was unforgiveable, there were no excesses for those do commit such heinous acts, but a similar line was given to adults too. People would only see her, the other ghost children, the Fazbears and Vincent Afton as murderers, if they knew what had gone on in the past.
Not that they could do anything to hurt her in any meaningful way.
"It felt good, I was getting my revenge, someone else was feeling my pain and after years of sorrow and anguish, I couldn't care less about anyone else."
That earned her a dark chuckle from 'Richard', with several creaks from his suit as he appeared to be leaning forward, looming over her.
"A…n…d n…o…w t...h...e p...a...s...t h...a...s c...o...m...e b...a...c...k w...i...t…h a v...e...n...g...e…a…n….c...e R…a...c...h...e...l, s...o...w t...h...e w...h...i…r...l...w…i…n...d, r...e...a...p t...h...e w...h...i...r...l...w...i...n...d." {And now the past has come back with a vengeance Rachel, sow the whirlwind, reap the whirlwind.}
It was a very true statement with everyone having a vendetta against someone, never able to let go, or in her case not wanting to.
And now potentially it could be her turn, or rather BB's turn to be precise. This was his body that she was possessing, and he would get the worst of whatever harm 'Richard' would inflict if he choose to do so.
She could fight, but she wouldn't win, no doubt BB could feel her distress and fear from the depths of their shared subconsciousness.
"L…e…t m...e a…s...k y...o...u a q…u...e...s…t…i...o...n R…a...c...h...e...l, w...e h…a...v...e b...e...e…n t...h…r...o...u...g...h t...h...e s...a...m...e s...h...i...t f...r...o...m o...u...r d...e...a...t...h...s t...o n...o...w s...o w...o...u...l...d i...t b...e w...r...o...n...g o...f m...e t...o k...i...l...l y...o...u r...i...g…h...t n...o...w?" {Let me ask you a question Rachel, we have been through the same shit from our deaths to now, so would it be wrong of me to kill you right now?}
Before she could mount a reply, a cold hard mechanical hand touched her neck, slowly gripping it, forming an iron bound.
She gasped for breath, her white dots for eyes darted for any sign of relief or salvation, but there was nothing.
"C...h...o...k...i...n...g," {Choking,} 'Richard' continued in a plain dead tone.
"W...o...u...l...d g...i...v...e y…o...u a s...i...m...i...l...a...r e...x...p...e...r...i...e...n…c…e t...o w...h...a…t I f...e...l...t, a...s I c...h...o...k...e...d o...n m...y o...w...n b...l...o…o...d, w...h...e...n y…o...u f...o...r...c...e...d m...e i...n...t...o t...h...i...s d...e...a...t...h t...r...a...p." {Would give you a similar experience to what I felt, as I choked on my own blood, when you forced me into this death trap.}
His voice was cold, and yet there was a subtle undertone of enjoyment to it.
Rachel's panic levels went through the roof as did BB's, as he could feel the immense inflow of emotional distress that was overpowering their shared mind.
"I am a child," Rachel pleaded, as she gripped his hand with her own, trying to loosen them and give herself some breathing room. Her fingers wrapped around a cold tough metal that was utterly lifeless despite being possessed.
'Richard' merely tighten his hold on her neck, cutting into her airwaves.
"B…u…t a…r...e y…o...u a...n i...n...n...o...c...e…n…t c...h…i...l…d?" {But are you an innocent child?} he asked coldly.
Rachel could not give him an answer, because she knew which one was right.
"I. . .I. . .I don't know," she stammered, unable to fight her rising panic. Instantly 'Richard' strengthen his hold on her neck, cutting off the air from her lungs.
"Y…e...s, y...o...u d…o, y...o…u j...u...s…t d...o n…o…t w…a...n...t t...o s...a…y i...t, b...u...t y...o...u k...n...o...w w…h...a…t y...o...u a…r...e R...a...c...h...e...l." {Yes, you do, you just don't want to say it, but you know what you are Rachel.}
He could sense her fear, she was emitting an absolute aura of terror, just like he did as they dragged to his death.
"M...o...n...s...t...e...r...s a...r...e m...a...d...e, n...o...t b...o...r...n," {Monsters are made, not born,} he muttered, chuckling in a dark tone as Rachel gasped for breath, sensing her to be flaring about in his grip, but unable to escape.
"S…e...e…i…n...g y...o...u p...o...w…e...r...l...e… s...s i...s l...i...k...e m…u…s...i…c t…o m…e, h...o...w d….o…e...s i…t f...e...e...l t…o b...e o...n t...h...e r...e...c...e…i…v...i...n….g e...n…d f….o...r a c…h...a...n…g…e?" {Seeing you powerless is like music to me, how does it feel to be on the receiving end for a change?} he asked, enjoying every second.
"Not. . .nice," she croaked, stressing her distress as her brain screamed at her for air that she could not provide.
"B…u...t y...o…u c...a...n...n...o...t d...i…e c...a...n y...o...u R...a...c…h...e...l, n...o...t u...n...t...i...l y...o...u c...a...n m…o…v…e o…n, b...u…t V...i...n...c…e...n…t i…s n...o...t h…e...r...e I'm a...f...r...a...i...d." {But you cannot die can you Rachel, not until you can move on, but Vincent isn't here I'm afraid.}
He increased his grip on her, squeezing her windpipe. She could feel BB's panic which was screaming at the back of her mind for her to get out of whatever it was that she was in.
"Y...o...u w...i...l...l d...i...e R...a...c...h...e. . .l, b...u…t t...h...i...s b...o...d...y w...i...l...l, a...n...d y...o...u w…i...l...l f...i...n...d a n...e...w h...o...s...t, s...o, l…e...t's t...a...s...t...e d…e…a...t...h a...g...a...i...n, a…n...d a...g...a...i...n, a…n...d a…g…a...i...n." {You won't die Rachel, but this body will, and you'll find a new host, so, let's taste death again, and again, and again.}
The prospect of death frightened Rachel, even though it wouldn't mean the end for her; but to experience it again with all the torments that accompanied it, overloaded what remained of her common sense as instinct took hold.
She opened her mouth to scream, but she couldn't due to a lack of air. Her heart was racing, pleading for relief as her mind screamed in its need for fresh oxygen. In its starved fear driven state, the current moment brought up vivid images of SpringBonnie with his bright green eyes towering over her with a joyous smile, that hid a murderous intent.
Flashback. . .
November 1987 Hurricane Utah
There was screaming and shouting as Mangle had just attacked a member of staff, giving way to the infamous 'Bite of 87'. People ran in all directions, as the security staff tired their best to contain the situation.
The other Toys were frozen in shock at what just happened, standing, eyes wide and their mouths aghast at what was unfolding in front of them.
Rachel was with her friends on the edge of it all, watching from the side lines near the Egg Baby attraction.
Her parents were nowhere to be seen, there were so many people running around. The atomsphere of fun and enjoyment that had existed only seconds ago seem far off now. She had just been playing Midnight Motorist, trying to beat Sammy's high score. His dad had designed some the games here, so being the son of an employee he had gained early access to them, and knew how to get the highest score.
"What's going on?" Sammy asked curiously, trying to see over the panicking crowd, but failing due to obvious height issues.
Suddenly Toy Freddy ran past the group, charging straight into the fray with Toys Bonnie and Chica in tow, having already dropped their instruments.
"MANGLE, JESUS CHRIST, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Toy Freddy yelled, shoving various staff members aside as he attempted to gain some form of control over the situation.
"WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THAT!" Toy Bonnie shouted, trying to jump in and wrestle Mangle off the poor unfortune woman, who had she for unknown reasons attacked.
"GET HER OFF, GET HER OFF NOW!" Toy Freddy ordered aggressively, trying to pry Mangle's grip loose, so the staff members could pull the woman away.
"SOMEONE CALL AN AMUBLANCE!"
Toy Chica was circling the maelstrom, unable to intervene due to the mass of people that were trying their best to rein Mangle in.
She seemed to be driven by a hungry bloodlust, lashing out at everyone who would dare come near.
"MANGLE, WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?" Toy Chica screamed in shock, upon seeing the blood on her friend's teeth and the enraged, irrational look in her yellow eyes. Rachel stared at the Fazbear's despair, this was unexpected to say the least. Her friends maintained their gaze, too dumbstruck to move, everything was in chaos.
At last though, one of them, Charlotte spoke.
"Should we go somewhere else?" she asked quietly, intimated by the noise.
"We should find my dad immediately," Sammy answered, instantly taking the role of the leader. Then the shadow of a tall figure fell across the group, in their startled state, they quickly turned to face the newcomer.
The figure was in simple terms, another Toy Bonnie, given that they had bunny ears and they also possessed bright green eyes. Although they were clearly a male given their physical features, plus they wore a smart golden suit with a purple bowtie.
"It's a good thing I found you lot, my name is SpringBonnie Fazbear; we need to leave; in emergency situations, all children are to be placed in the safety room, you will need to come with me."
"It's ok, we just need to find my dad, he'll keep us safe," Sammy answering, walking forward. He had to lean his neck back slightly to fully make eye contact with SpringBonnie.
"You might know him, Henry Emily, he made some of the games in this place."
But SpringBonnie shook his head with a dismissive expression.
"Sorry, no can do I'm afraid, all children are to be placed in the safety room, it's the rules of the pizzeria," he stated, reaching down to take Sammy by the hand.
"Trust me, it's for your own good, you'll be safe while the staff try to deal with this. . .unfortunate incident."
With a firm hold on Sammy's hand, he led the children away from the chaos. They passed the main stage and went out into the hallway, which was now deserted with most people having either legged it to the exit or were trying to hold Mangle down.
"Once you're in here, I can go and find the remaining children, then we'll all do a head count," SpringBonnie said warmly, upon finding the right room. "In you go," he ordered, opening the door for them, the room itself was pretty much empty save for a few boxes that contained various supplies for the Pizzeria's actives.
"It's not much I know, but when we are all assembled, I can entertain you with songs from my banjo while we pass the time."
"What's a banjo?" Sammy asked curiously, seeming to have never heard of such a thing before. "It's a guitar like Toy Bonnie's, but only much smaller," SpringBonnie answered in a statesman like manner.
As the other children entered, Rachel stopped in the doorway, a certain question had hold of her mind. "Something wrong kid?" SpringBonnie asked, sounding concerned as he looked down at her with his bright green eyes.
"It's just," Rachel began, unsure of how to frame her words.
"I've never seen you before and I know all the Fazbears, even the older ones."
SpringBonnie chuckled, in a somewhat delighted tone, which felt odd somehow.
"Oh my, it's rather simple, I am a special entertainer, I only come in on birthdays and special events."
He slowly pushed Rachel inside.
"You'll be safe in here until the danger has passed," he said reassuringly.
Then rather unexpectedly, he entered the room and closed the door shut behind him.
"It's quite hectic outside, and someone else could disturb our fun, so to avoid all of that, I'll just lock the door," he stated, turning the key in the lock to prevent any 'disturbances' from interrupting their 'fun'.
"Wait, don't you need to go and get the other children?" Charlotte enquired, feeling rather confused.
"And is it completely necessary to lock us in?"
SpringBonnie slowly turned round to face the small group of children, his eyes now seem. . .off.
And his grin now looked. . .intimidating.
"No, you five will do just fine, I'll get my banjo out and we'll forget our troubles," he remarked casually.
Yet there was something else underneath that tone, something threatening, enough to make Rachel feel uneasy. There were still screams and shouts coming from outside as SpringBonnie reached into his trouser pocket to pull out his banjo.
"Let the fun begin," he remarked joyfully.
Only it wasn't a banjo that he soon held in his hand, but rather an extremely sharp knife, that he clenched in a tense grip. His smile suddenly turned murderous, as his green eyes lost all their warmth, becoming two cold, hard pupils of sheer ruthlessness.
"You should never walk off with strangers, it's usually fatal for children like yourselves," he sneered in a sarcastic tone that fitted his demeanour.
Instantly a dozen alarm bells went off inside Rachel's head, this was bad, very bad!
She stepped away from SpringBonnie, her eyes were wide with immense fear.
SpringBonnie merely followed her move, making sure to block off the only exit.
"Now there's no use in trying to prevent the inevitable kids," he said, speaking in a warm tone that did nothing to hide his cruel intentions.
"Everyone has to die at some point, even the young."
As he slowly stepped towards them, the children continued to back away, all huddling together against the far wall.
Rachel now spoke, her voice cracking with emotional panic.
"But I don't want to die!"
She seemed to be the only one who could summon her voice to say anything.
"I want my mom!"
SpringBonnie shook his head, dismissing her pleas for mercy.
"There's no such thing as innocence I'm afraid, life crushes it, if you've seen and lived through what I have, you would understand."
Then Sammy spoke, trying to sound brave, but failing miserably with his eyes glued on the knife that SpringBonnie held.
"My dad will find out who are and then you'll go to jail."
SpringBonnie slowly turned to face him, his green eyes narrowed slightly, as if he could be intimidated right now.
"He won't do Sammy, your father, for all his talent, is not as smart as you give him credit for," he replied, in a confident yet stern tone.
Tears quickly began to fall off Rachel's face, she trembled under SpringBonnie's piercing gaze as he now towered over her.
"I don't understand," she croaked as SpringBonnie lightly gripped her shoulder.
"I know you don't, just like I did when I lost my innocence, everything vanished in quick succession from my life," His voice was now cold, which did match his sinister slasher grin. Yet there was something else in his tone too, hidden beneath the cold demeanour.
Sadness, loss. . . a painful despair perhaps?
The smooth sharp edge of the knife that he held in his hand, reflected in her horror filled eyes. All the while SpringBonnie continued to stare down at her with his own eyes.
They were still a bright green, but there was now no life behind them anymore.
"Don't be scared," he muttered softly, as if he could reassure her that death wasn't terrifying.
"It'll only hurt for a moment. . ."
It's good to be back.
The last part is how I pretty much imagined the Second Missing Childrens' Incident would take place, given the minigame cutscenes from FNAF 2.
Having the nightguards and the ghost children interact with eachother seemed to be interesting route to take. Especially given how they both did nothing wrong that would justify their deaths.
One of the main ideas for this story was that nearly everyone has blood on their hands, no one is completely innocent.
It's really just a matter of perspective of who you sympathise with.
I have some interesting ideas to implement in the next chapter though. ;-)
Please Review, your feedback is more than welcome.