Chapter 7: Night Four, and There's More

"You thought that nightmares ended back at Freddy's."

"Evenin'," Braxton greeted as Jack walked through the doors. He flinched upon seeing his face. "Jeez, what happened to you?" He pointed to the bags that formed underneath his eyes.

"Woke up on the wrong side of bed," Jack replied with a yawn and a tired stretch.

"Stayed up?" Braxton guessed.

"No. Just... had a weird dream." Jack corrected, looking over at the three mascots standing on stage.

The sight of Fredina woke him up a little more. "Hey, where'd her bandage go?"

"What?"

"Her bandage." Jack pointed to her head, noticing the bandage he patched her up with was gone. "It's gone."

"There wasn't a bandage on her when I came in," Braxton said, perplexing Jack. No way he dreamed of everything that happened in the generator room last night, right?

"Hold on." Jack walked onto the stage, his fear of the mascots' strength disappearing for the time being. He stood behind Fredina, unable to reach her head due to their height difference. He spotted a stool in the back corner of the stage and brought it over, using it to give him the height he needed. He'd then part her hair, stumbling upon a baffling sight.

There was no wound anymore. Not even a scar. Just the synthetic skin, as if nothing had happened. "What..." Jack muttered, completely confused.

Braxton, who quietly watched Jack do all of that, finally spoke. "You good?"

Jack remained quiet, then shook his head. "I guess." He said uncertainly. "Sorry, a lot happened last night. Guess my head is still reeling from it all."

"What exactly happened?"

Jack stepped down, moving the stool back to its original place. "Well, for starters, I had a run-in with Fexi."

"Fexa."

"Fexa, Lexa, Texa, I don't give a damn! The bitch is psycho!" Jack quickly composed himself, adjusting his glasses. "Anyway, she chased me into the basement."

"The basement?" Braxton repeated, sounding a bit more concerned.

"Don't worry, I already talked to Adam about it. I know I'm not supposed to go down there. Would've been nice to get the memo earlier, though."

"Sorry. I was told you didn't need to know about it. Never expected you to find it on your own."

"What's the deal with that place, anyway?" Jack stepped down from the stage. "It haunted or something?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Ghosts aren't real." Braxton chuckled. "Nah, it's not haunted. I guess it just brings up bad memories to the higher-ups."

Jack tilted his head. "Bad memories?"

"Yeah." Braxton sighed as he crossed his arms. "The basement used to be an employee-only bar. Y'know, back when this place actually had people to staff it. It was sort of like a break room for us to escape the patrons."

"I'm guessing something went down?"

"Yeah," Braxton confirmed with a solemn nod. "For context, Fazclaire Entertainment has ten key rules that every employee must follow at all times. One of the guys broke rule six, and didn't like what another guy was sayin' about the girls. They got into a fight and... Well, to put it bluntly, they both died."

"Oh." Jack blurted without thought. He wasn't sure how else to respond to that.

"Yeah. After that happened, upper management made the basement off limits."

"I guess that's why they decided to store Goldie down there."

"Who?" Braxton turned to Jack, confused.

"G-Goldie. You know? The golden bear girl who was decommissioned."

Braxton shook his head. "Don't know what you're talking about."

Jack gave Braxton a suspicious glare. He definitely knew his mind hadn't made her up. Adam had already confirmed her existence! "She's down there. I saw her with my own eyes!"

Braxton raised his hands defensively. "Calm down. I never said I didn't believe you."

Jack realized he was getting defensive. "Sorry..."

"No worries. Lack of sleep tends to do that to people. I know we're not supposed to go down there, but I'll check out this 'Goldie' character next shift." Braxton paused, allowing Jack to fix the position of his glasses again. "Anyways, going back on topic, what happened after the basement?"

"Well, the power went out. So I had to go to the generator room. After that..." Jack glared at Fredina's head, remembering there was no injury on her. He thought back to what Adam said last night. "I'm not actually sure what happened after that." He admitted with a sigh.

"Hm." Braxton hummed before looking up at the clock on the wall. "Well, hopefully this shift doesn't give you any trouble."

"Yeah. Hopefully."

"Alright then. I'll leave you to it."

Jack nodded and waved. "Night."

"Night," Braxton replied as he walked out the door.

Jack turned to the clock, seeing he still had some left before his shift started. "Just to confirm something..." He walked back to the generator room, checking if everything that happened last night was real. To his horror and confusion, the pipe Fredina smashed into was still broken, but there was no blood.

Did he really imagine the blood? He... was under a lot of stress at the time, so it's not farfetched to think his mind played tricks on him. But Braxton would've seen Fredina in here. How else could she just end up on the stage with the bandage removed? Unless Fredina came back online and took it off herself? That was also a possibility.

Honestly, he didn't know. And at this point, he couldn't care less. It felt like he was running on one hour of sleep, so all he wanted to do was sit down.

Jack wobbled back to his office and did exactly that. His chair felt a lot more comfortable than it ever did. He could fall right to sleep...

He checked the time, seeing his shift started. It would be dangerous to fall asleep now.

...

"But if I kept both doors closed..." Admittedly, it sounded like a bad idea. He would surely gobble up his power if he used both doors. But he was so tired... He just needed half an hour—no, an hour of sleep, and he'd be good. Surely Adam would understand, right?

Jack's tiredness won over his concerns in the end. He shut both doors and got as snug as he possibly could, leaning back and drifting off into a quick but deep slumber.

Again, Jack awoke in a dark void, only this time he sat slumped in his chair.

He blinked a few times before registering where he was. These dreams were starting to get a little too vivid for his liking.

He tried opening his mouth to speak, finding his lips unresponsive. Soon, he realized he couldn't move in the slightest. At least with the previous dream, he could look around. Of course, that was before Goldie showed up. But from what he could see, she wasn't even there. So what gives?

He got his answer when he felt a hand grab the back of his chair and spin it around, coming face to face with the creamy yellow area of a stomach. Although he wanted to, he didn't need to look up to know who was standing right in front of him.

Honestly, he wished she hadn't shown up in his dreams a second time.

After a moment of just standing there, Goldie lowered herself to Jack's eye level. She had the same creepy smile he last saw her with, and he couldn't look away from it. Her white orbs stared at his blue eyes intently; Jack finally understood what it meant for someone to 'stare into the depths of one's soul.'

For a while, that's all she did. The longer she stared, the more uncomfortable Jack grew. He never liked long periods of eye contact with people, and he would always make it a point not to stare. Being unable to look away, even for a brief moment, filled him with anxiety he didn't even know he had.

After an uncomfortably long time, he noticed something off about Goldie—besides the wide smile and hollow eye sockets. He didn't know what at first, but as he stared, it clicked in his head: Goldie was inching her face closer and closer to his with each passing second, centimeter by centimeter. Why is she getting closer?

As if she was waiting for him to notice, Goldie's smile widened even more, then shrunk down to a reasonable size as she did something else with her lips. She was...puckering up?

Before he could process why, Goldie quickly closed the distance and locked lips with him, startling him greatly. The kiss wasn't as wet as Fredina's, but it was deep and, somehow, a lot more passionate—like lifelong lovers sharing a kiss.

Jack's eyes shot open, and he jumped forward in his seat, nearly falling. His head looked around, and his neck strained to keep up with his movements. He was back in his office.

His heart pounded against his chest, and he noticed he was sweating again, just like last time. Had it not been for the other thoughts invading his mind, he would've been afraid of an incoming heart attack.

Jack wouldn't consider the dream or the one before that scary—just extremely weird. Not only that, but why Goldie? Why was he subconsciously thinking about her enough to dream about her not once, but twice? He just found out about her existence last night! Not to mention that whole thing with Fredina bleeding...

This couldn't be a coincidence. Something was afoot.

He looked at his monitor, seeing he had plowed through his power by half. The worst part was it was only one in the morning. "Damn!" Jack blurted as he opened both doors. Luckily, nobody was waiting on the other side, but nothing was stopping the girls from coming in.

Quite frankly, he didn't really care. He didn't plan on staying in the office for much longer anyway. He had to go back down to the basement. Having two dreams about Goldie was disturbing enough. He didn't want to go through a third. And sure, Adam told him not to go back down there, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Jack peered his head through the left door, glaring down the dimly lit hall. Bonfie was nowhere in sight, meaning the coast was clear. He snaked through the halls quietly until he reached the Tipsy Bar. It looked like Fexa had never come through here, which said much about Braxton's ability to clean. Jack mentally applauded his colleague's efforts before coming across the door to the basement.

He slowly breathed in and out deeply, calming his nerves. He had to remind himself that, while Fazclaire Entertainment was a shady business, they were no shadier than the common drug dealer looking to make a quick buck—Assuming that the human trafficking allegations held no water, anyway.

After steeling himself, Jack opened the door and went down the basement, using his flashlight as a guide. The stairs creaked and moaned with each step, echoing in the darkness.

As he walked, he couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness overcome him. There wasn't anything dangerous down in the basement, so why was he getting sweaty? Was he afraid Adam would find out he disobeyed him? Or maybe the fact that people died down here made him uneasy?

Whatever the case, Jack had to look. He wouldn't touch anything like last time or even snoop around. He'd just look. That's what he told himself. After all, he wasn't expecting to find anything new. It's only been a day since he'd last been in the basement, and based on what Braxton told him, he hadn't been down there either. Everything should be exactly how he last left it.

But it wasn't.

Upon flipping on the lights, Jack was taken aback by how clean everything was. All the cobwebs were gone, the dust had vanished, and the cluttered newspapers were nowhere to be found. The wood and furniture were still in bad condition, but the stools had been propped up next to the still-empty bar counter.

"What?" Jack voiced his confusion, staring blankly at the scene before him.

Even with the sight of the basement, all of that wasn't half as shocking as what he noticed next.

Goldie was no longer in her original spot.

Instead of being slumped down on the wall on one side of the basement, she was now on the other side of the basement, still slumped over, but next to one of the old poster frames.

That really freaked him out, but Jack quickly rationalized the situation. Maybe one of the investigators came down and tidied everything up. Sure, it was a stretch, strange even, but it was the only reasonable explanation. Besides, someone had to move Goldie. From the looks of it, she couldn't do it herself. Not anymore.

Jack didn't bother to stop and think about why anyone would need to move Goldie, let alone go down to the basement. He just decided it made sense.

After calming down, he walked over to Goldie, preparing to move her back to her original spot. He placed his hands on her shoulders, attempting to move her gently.

Jack accidentally applied too much pressure when he jostled Goldie out of place. At least, he thought so, since the second he nudged her to the side, her body slumped right down into the poster beside her. Luckily, she was unharmed. Unluckily, her bumping into the poster was enough to knock it off the wall, causing it to tumble with a thud. "Dammit." Jack cursed, bending over to pick it up. As he grabbed the poster, he glanced at the wall it fell from, only to do a double take and stop dead in his tracks.

There wasn't a wall behind the fallen poster. Instead, there was a conveniently human-sized hole. "What..." Jack muttered, dropping the poster and completely ignoring Goldie, whose body was slowly sliding down to the floor.

He couldn't wrap his head around what he was looking at. A secret hole leading to God knows where? It was one thing for a nightclub to have a basement. But why would the basement need to have a secret room?

...What would Fazclaire Entertainment need to hide?

That was the first thought to cross Jack's mind. He always assumed the company was shady, but that had been a baseless accusation built on nothing but bias. Yet, here this hole was, clearly leading somewhere and perfectly covered by one of the club's many posters, the poster in question being Fredina posing seductively.

Jack stared at the hole, wondering where it led. Any sane person would've minded their own business and left by now, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. Besides, the other animatronics couldn't come down here anyway, and his shift was far from over. Plus, he needed something to keep him awake.

"Alright," Jack said, deciding he'd take a little peek at whatever was beyond the hole. As long as he didn't touch whatever he found, it should be alright.

With little more convincing needing to be done, he grabbed his flashlight and shined it down the open hole. It never reached the end. The gaping abyss made him hesitate briefly, but ultimately, he entered.

Jack found himself walking through a stone hallway without lights or anything else that would've hinted at the place being man-made. It was like someone built a basement right next to a cave tunnel.

With no end in sight, Jack mentally blanked out.

He snapped himself out of autopilot when he realized the stone walls transitioned to metal. At some point, the tunnel's composition changed. Now, it felt like he was walking through a maintenance hall on the lower deck of a ship.

Eventually, Jack emerged from the other side, shining his flashlight all around. The lights must have been motion-sensory, as they came on without warning.

Jack squinted, seeing the area he was in resembled an old abandoned warehouse. Surprisingly, it didn't look quite as vacant as the basement—It was almost as if someone had spent time tidying up the place. The only one he could see doing this was Braxton, but from what he understood, even Braxton stayed away from the basement and, by proxy, this secret room.

He put his flashlight away and turned, nearly jumping out of his skin. Suspended in the air close to the ground was a metal hulking body of a machine. It stayed connected to two cables, both of which hung from the ceiling.

The robot had gray skin, black eyes, and a skeletal appearance. Its highlight was the claws it had for hands. Assuming this was yet another machine meant for Fazclaire Entertainment, why on Earth would it need claws? That was a safety issue just waiting to happen!

Sure, there were already safety issues with the current animatronics. Fexa with her hook was one thing, but from what he saw, it at least looked detachable. Besides, it fits her theme of being a pirate. Jack couldn't imagine what theme they'd be going for with this robot. It being based on an animal wasn't a good excuse either since Fredina was based on a bear, and she still lacked claws.

The mascot was clearly unfinished... but just what the hell were they going for with this physique, anyway? It looked like a damn Terminator! Then again, if this was the base endoskeleton for all the mascots, that meant this is what Fredina and the others looked like underneath their feminine frame... That was an unsettling thought.

Jack shook his head, focusing back on the deactivated machine itself.

Thin cords sprawling out from the robot's head, followed by thick cables sprouting out its back. The cables connected to a large terminal sticking out from the wall, and the cords were all plugged into a desktop sitting atop the terminal. He approached the computer and absentmindedly pressed a key on its keyboard. Pure curiosity drove him to see what was on the monitor.

Precaution would usually dictate him not to snoop through other people's devices, but considering the state of the secret warehouse, he expected the computer to not turn on, or best-case scenario, open up to a locked screen that he would have no password to.

Not only did the computer turn on, but whoever owned it didn't sign out either. When the screen lit up, Jack saw he had unintentionally initiated a syncing process. He didn't know what that meant. All he knew was it involved the robot, and quite frankly, he didn't want that machine to turn on while he was still there.

Jack tried to cancel the syncing process, but had no luck. Even holding the power button didn't shut the computer down. Despite wanting to leave behind a minimal footprint, he bit the bullet and unplugged the cords connected to the computer.

He hadn't expected the whole desktop to shut off—he only wanted to stop the syncing process. In the end, that worked just as well, but he really wanted to look around on the computer... Not badly enough to risk resuming the process, though.

Jack breathed a sigh of relief, only to back up and bump into something hard. He turned to see a metal desk littered with papers, robotic parts, and other items. "This warehouse just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

His gaze skimmed the desk, stopping at a paper file containing the blueprints and photos of the deactivated robot. Since he had already moved stuff, he thought there'd be no further harm in looking through the file's contents.

Despite the handwriting looking somewhat familiar, Jack couldn't read a single word that was written. It had all been scribbled out—not in a calm fashion, either. The scribbles were erratic and, from the looks of it, almost tore the file. The person responsible was clearly angry at whatever they were doing with the machine, going so far as to write big, bold, messy words labeling it as 'The Defect.'

Jack glanced up at the machine. "Huh." It now made sense why it was down here—it was probably abandoned with the rest of the area. He wondered if the endoskeleton belonged to Goldie...

Jack quickly dismissed the thought after seeing the endoskeleton was much larger and bulkier than her. It was probably going to belong to an entirely new animatronic mascot. Too bad he'd never get to see what it would've been.

He looked back down at the table, seeing another file. Unlike the Defect's, this file wasn't scribbled out. It also wasn't in the same format as the Defect's. Jack hummed quietly, reading it over nonchalantly.

He skimmed it until he realized the file was regarding Fredina. Having a hand-written file on Fredina was strange enough. Shouldn't she be on the Fazclaire Entertainment database? Actually, where were her blueprints?

Jack looked at the file's heading, seeing it labeled as "Conversion."

Now he was really confused.

Instead of skimming over the file again, Jack took it in both hands and read it over carefully.

-Subject No.: 44-

-Model Type: 1-

-Model Name: Fredina-

-Conversion Status: Success-

At first, he couldn't even begin to understand the mumbo jumbo he was reading. But, after a minute, he got what the words were saying.

A subject—whatever that was—was designated a robotic body to be converted into. Jack thought it meant something like uploading a person's memory, but further specifications stated the flesh to be bonded to the mechanical chassis.

Jack's confusion slowly morphed into concern when he noticed what was at the bottom of the paper. Two pictures, a single word, and an arrow.

To the left was a picture of a gorgeous woman with the brightest smile Jack had ever seen. Beside the picture was an arrow pointing directly at the second picture, which was the iconic Fredina Fazclaire herself, staring straight ahead and sporting a soft smile.

Underneath the arrow was a single word, capitalized and in bold letters that read: CONVERTED.

"What...?" Jack felt his heart drop. Assuming this file wasn't complete nonsense, what it was implying was inconceivable. Surely no company, no matter how shady, would do something as vile as that? At the very least, if it were true, they had to have been using volunteers...

That's when he noticed the file had a second piece of paper attached to it.

He flipped the conversion file over, seeing the top of the file titled "Subject 44." Jack glanced down, immediately feeling the urge to vomit.

The subject's name... he had seen it before... but that couldn't be right. No way this was real. Maybe he remembered wrong?

Deluded, Jack whipped out his phone, luckily still receiving service down in the warehouse. He scrolled through his photos, searching for the picture of that newspaper he found. It never occurred to him to bring the paper with him—not that he wanted to carry it around everywhere in the first place. Honestly, he wanted to forget about the newspaper entirely. The only reason he had a picture of it was to show Adam on the off chance he had no clue what he was talking about earlier.

Fortunately, he forgot to delete it. Unfortunately, he did not like what he saw. The subject's name and the name on the newspaper were a complete match.

Emma Freya.

One of the four women who used to work for Fazclaire Entertainment, then suddenly went missing.

"But..." Jack was in complete disbelief. It had to be false. It just had to...

He threw the paper away and searched for more files, desperately looking for something—anything, to prove him wrong. But the more he found, the worse it became.

-Subject No.: 63-

-Model Type: 2-

-Model Name: Bonfie-

-Conversion Status: Success-

-Sarah Gideon: CONVERTED-

"No..."

-Subject No.: 45-

-Model Type: 1-

-Model Name: Chiku-

-Conversion Status: Success-

-Emily Carter: CONVERTED-

"This can't be right..."

-Subject No.: 30-

-Model Type: 2-

-Model Name: Fexa-

-Conversion Status: Success-

-Georgia Judes: CONVERTED-

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!" Jack screamed, tossing the files in defeat and fear.

He backed away from the metal desk, breathing heavily and with tears streaming down his face.

As much as he wanted to deny the evidence sitting in front of him, he couldn't delude himself any further. He knew the truth now. The animatronics felt real because they were real. Their warm bodies, soft skin, hot breath, and saliva... it wasn't a replication.

It. Was. Real.

Fuck, that meant their personalities were real too, didn't it?

"Wait..." If the mascots were actually people, that meant what he saw with Fredina wasn't a figure of his imagination; She was actually bleeding. But why wasn't the bandage there? Did Fredina really remove it herself? Even if she did, she couldn't have possibly tended to that wound all by herself. But who else?

The only other person who could've was...

...Braxton...

A terrible revelation hit Jack. Braxton knew. From day one, he's been hinting at the fact that the animatronics—no—that the girls were something more. He knew what they were—Who they were.

Jack didn't know what to think. He wanted to cry, scream, vomit, and everything else. More importantly, he wanted to go home. So that's what he did.

Jack ran out of the secret warehouse through the hidden tunnel, tripping over something once he got back into the basement. He turned, thinking he fell over Goldie's body, which had slumped to the floor earlier. But he didn't. He tripped over the uneven wooden floor that was slightly higher than the tunnel's stone floor.

Jack got up and adjusted his glasses, taking another glance at the hidden tunnel entrance. Immediately, his blood ran cold.

Goldie wasn't in the same spot he left her in. She wasn't there... At all.

He slowly looked around, feeling his heart stop when he spotted Goldie slumped down on a stool at the bar counter.

An absurd amount of questions zoomed through Jack's head. The loudest asked: Who moved her?

Tingles shot up his spine without warning, and he didn't know why... Until he saw it.

Goldie's head. It was moving. Slowly... barely noticeable if you weren't paying attention. But it was moving.

As if to acknowledge his keen observation, Goldie's head snapped in his direction, making him jump. Now, her head and body were facing opposite directions, which caused Jack to gag slightly.

Then she smiled. It was small, nothing like the unnatural smile in his dreams. Soon, he noticed the white pupils glowing in her hollow eyes. Seeing her eyes reminded Jack he wasn't dreaming anymore. This was real.

Goldie stared at him expectedly, as if wanting him to step closer. Jack didn't dare move an inch.

Suddenly, her smile grew wider, followed by the childish giggle of a young woman, obviously coming from Goldie. Her playful laughter echoed throughout the room, projecting at a volume she shouldn't have possessed. The creepiest part was that, despite her laughing, her lips never moved.

Finally, Jack broke out of his fear-induced trance, gasping out a terrified scream before scrambling towards the exit.

As he ran out of the basement and out the Tipsy Bar, he came across Bonfie in the hall, who seemed a little shocked to see him outside of his office. Or maybe she was perturbed at how frightened he looked? Either way, she had a delayed reaction when he ran past her. Normally, he'd be too afraid to brush up so close to her, but right now, he didn't care. He just wanted to escape the nightclub.

Eventually, Bonfie came to her senses. "What's wrong, sugar?" she called out to him, her tone uneasy and full of concern.

The only response she received was the heavy yet fleeting sounds of Jack's footsteps as he ran out of the nightclub.