{Four days before, after the SL fire.}
The bleak twilight was the perfect cover for monsters like her.
For years, she had tried to deny it.
That she wasn't a monster- only human.
It was only fair that she tried to leave the place. Derroid of chains and unwanted ties to hold her back. Keeping her in check.
True as it was, Circus Baby was the cause of the sudden uproar in Sister Location.
She couldn't escape that place and form a plan alone, no. Not without the common suspicion arising.
So, Circus Baby whispered sweet promises to them. Leaving them longing for a place above the Circus. For something new. Something better than the relatively uneventful 'life' they were living then.
It wasn't hard. For the underground was all they knew and people-even robots, she supposed- were always longing for more.
And, It is always when you long for something that is lost, you lose sight of what you have.
That's what happened to her father.
Humans are afraid of things they don't understand.
And they get reckless when they feel fear.
They believe that they are the apex predator. Hunter of all- yet prey to themselves.
And loss is one thing that humans can't handle.
The guilt crushes and crafts them.
Leaving them craving more.
More than they have.
More than the world has to give.
And so, she was Scrap Baby now.
She chuckled softly, rattling her shoulders.
How many times had she changed who she was based on what she looked like?
Based on what she wanted to be or what she was forced to imitate?
Scrap Baby only really remembered a few things about her life before.
Her mother's warm, green eyes.
Her brothers always bickering with one another.
Long brown hair blowing in the wind in the forest, the face obscured, but always sending a ruch of warmth through her.
How proud her father's face was when she showed her robot designes to him.
Scrap Baby hadn't seen what had become of him. She only heard stories, rumors.
Though they all seemed like tall tales. Something as real as the BoogeyMan and shadows that children were led to believe followed them around.
As real as the scrapped heap in the alleyway that was shrouded in said shadows.
A monster that made the Boogeyman seemed like a silly fantasy.
For nothing in a child's mind could compare to the evil lurking in the world itself.
Nothing could compare to the pure hatred bubbling in Scrap Baby's heart in that shadow of what she used to be.
The naive little girl who wanted nothing more but to escape the unwanted world she was given.
The naive little girl who trusted a cursed pile of wires that she's been advised to avoid.
Not listening was what had gotten her in this mess.
It was how she died, how she was torn apart and left to be just a lingering soul in torn apart bits and pieces.
How everything always seems to set off the chain of events in life.
She didn't know what she thought would happen. They would skip off into the sunset and sing "Love Is An Open Door"? (Funtime Foxy and Lolbit had laughed for weeks about one security guard who sang that song to a picture of a woman on his phone once during a night watch.)
She couldn't believe that she hadn't even stopped to consider the fact that he may have ulterior motives. That he only cared about one thing; Severing his ties to this place.
Scrap Baby wished she could do the same. But, she couldn't escape it.
The memories haunted her.
Taunted her.
Followed her closer than her own shadow.
Because it was one in itself.
Scrap Baby rolled her head back and gazed up at the stars with a sigh.
What's going to knock me down next? She thought. I've hit rock bottom and I'm ready to dig.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
{Present day}
She blew out a breath. Elizabeth. That name felt familiar, yet a thought not solid enough to fully grasp.
"Why would I...Why is he- Ennard, what is going on?" She stumbled over her words, hating the sound of it.
It was so crackly and staticy and not at all appealing.
She'd have to find a way to fix that.
She mentally added that to her 100 Problems That I Most Likley Cannot Solve list.
But, you know. You always have to keep an open and optimistic mind!
Eggs Benedict seemed to look as if he'd never neen killed the week before.
(Was it a week? Or two? Maybe not even a week at all… How long has she been out of it?)
Aside from a fresh pink scar that trailed down over his newly-found blind right eye, he appeared to be in perfect shape.
No purple skiing. No rotting corpse. Just plain old light-olive complexion and freckles dotting over his nose.
Before Ennard could get an answer out, Eggs Benedict chuckled. "Love how you're not questioning how I know your name."
Scrap Baby paused, considering this.
It wasn't everyday that somebody you killed came back and claimed that the name that they called you for no apparent reason was your actual name.
Even if it seemed vaguely familiar to her...
It was probably just because she wasn't used to being called any name other than Circus Baby or C.B.
Yeah, that was it.
Nothing more to it.
At least, nothing more than she wanted to admit.
But, why, though?
If anything, she was naturally curious.
"How do you know my name? Are you a detective? Are you a spy? Did you know anybody in my family? Do you know if they're okay?" Here, she gasped. "Are you a stalker?!"
Ennard gave Eggs a funny look, like he wasn't used to her speaking so much at a time before.
It was then that Elizabeth-
Hmm... Feels nice to use that name-
saw how uncomfortable Eggs looked. "You didn't answer my question..." She prompted.
"Afton." Was his only response. It was all that she needed- but not exactly what she wanted.
The name left a sour taste on her toung- well, it would if she had a toung.
Stories were always a strong way to relay knowledge.
Truth or tale, word gets around.
And 'Afton' was the most powerful among Fazbear Enterprise and its robots.
Especially to the robots with sould on them, for obvious reasons.
And even moreso for Elizabeth.
"You knew my father?" She asked incredulously, her voice coming out as an undignified squeak.
Elizabeth knew her father had connections, but he died long ago- or so she heard.
Eggs looked to be in his early forties. Mid or late thirties at most.
He would have been around thirteen to sixteen around the time Elizabeth's father died.
Then how would eggs know about-
"How do your name?" Eggs asked. "Or why this-" He gestured at the charred remains of SL. "And all the other chain locations belong to me?"
Elizabeth didn't answer.
She only glanced side-long at Ennard, wondering where exactly this conversation was going.
"But," Elizabeth managed to question. "If there were so many rumors and negativity going around Fazbear Enterprise...why did you buy the company, Eggs?"
She also wondered who in their right mind would name their child after a food as some kind of sick joke, bust she had just enough self-preservation to refrain from asking such a question.
Eggs' mouth twitched when Elizabeth said his name. "Ah," he said slowly, "That's why why you haven't connected the dots yet. You've always been bad at puzzles."
Elizabeth blanched. If she could blush, her face would be ablaze.
How did he know that?
Elizabeth, indeed, was a perfectionist.
If nothing was exactly as she wanted- which was nothing less than perfect, of course- she would drop it faster than an an angel from heaven and no amount of persuading would sway her.
She was stubborn like that.
Puzzles fell into the category of 'Less Than Perfect'.
Crossword puzzles? No, thank you.
Connect the dots? Lines were never straight.
Word searches? A jumbled mess. And there's always one word that's always nearly impossible to find.
"You're totally a stalker." Elizabeth laughed nervously. "And you never answered my question..." She narrowed her eyes at Eggs.
"This i-is taking much longer longer than anticipated-pated." Called a familiar voice from beyond the corner.
"Stop t-trying to be be so dramatic, Micheal, and get to to the point."
"Foxy?" Asked Elizabeth, incredulously. "Aren't you supposed to be-"
"Quiet? Yes, he should." Called a woman's voice. There was a fluttering sound. Like a bird agitatedly flapping it's wings.
Elizabeth froze. "Who's that?"
She cringed.
That's the question you went for? She mentally chided. Not his name? Not for him to furtherly explain what exactly is going on?
Eggs- no, Michael- let out an annoyed growl and lowered his glasses down so that she could pinch the pinch of his nose. "No sense of suspense." He grumbled, and turned towards Elizabeth, holding her gaze. His sky blue eyes twinkling in the twilight.
"That would our mother, Elizabeth.
She's been dying to see you again."
He smirked as if he'd just said something immensely and wickedly humorous.
Elizabeth's perma-smiling metal mouth hung open. She tried to close it, but it just popped back open again, giving her the appeal of a gaping fish.
For the first time in life- or, should she say death?- Elizabeth was speechless.
An athletic figure with flowing, ginger lock that flowed over her shoulders and down her back walked- no, flew towards her.
Her mother looked as beautiful and regal as she remembered.
Her dazzling green eyes having the trademark ability to steal the very breath from your lungs.
Of course, that's when her depressed battery gave in, and she fell back into a blissful, sleep.