The pizzeria was quiet save for the slow footsteps of the nightguards as they moved down the dark hallway. Mike¡¯s body acted as a makeshift flashlight, illuminating the scribbled children¡¯s drawings on the walls. The light didn¡¯t reach very far but it was bright enough to let them see three steps ahead of them.
Though his steps were slow, his purpose was very clear. Mike kept up a steady pace with his eyes on a swivel. Any small movement could mean their deaths here. They were walking into the belly of the beast, the lair of all the Animatronics that were housed here.
Mike¡¯s brows furrowed as they reached an intersection. He put out a hand out to stop Jeremy in his tracks. The blonde guard jumped slightly, trembling as he began frantically scanning their area, ¡°W-wh-what is it? Is it Foxy?¡±
The taller guard shook his head, ¡°No way. You remember what I did to that thing? The mechanics won¡¯t be able to get him working again for a while. Though it wouldn¡¯t surprise me if we ran into him. These things are damn resilient.¡± Mike didn¡¯t mention how he was secretly hoping the pirate bastard would show up again. He didn¡¯t get to finish him off last time. This time though, he¡¯ll make sure that the machine won¡¯t even be recognizable anymore.
Mike puts a hand on the right corner and pulled his head around to peer down the hallway. While he did that, Jeremy focused on the thrashing bundle of metal in his right hand. Swallowing nervously, he tapped Mike on the back, ¡°Um, Mike? I understand not wanting him to disappear and possible hurt us, but do you really have to keep holding him up by his head like that?¡±
Mike turns around to look at the hand he has clenched around the tiny robot¡¯s head. His grip is firm enough to cause dents to appear in the metal of the robot named Balloon Boy. The small machine keeps spinning its arms and legs in a vain attempt to get away from his captor. Mike shakes him up and down in rapid succession to stop his thrashing. The sound of gears being rattled echoes through the empty halls until the guard stops. Seeming to have gotten the message, the little bot keeps his arms in their standard position. Both held out to the right and left with a sign that just says ¡°Hello¡± in his right hand.
Satisfied, Mike goes back to looking around the corner, ¡°Don¡¯t feel any sympathy for these things, Jere. Everyone of ¡®em has no problem with killing us at any and every opportunity. Besides, he doesn¡¯t have a neck I can grab so this is the next best thing.¡± Mike does another shake to emphasize. He focuses his gaze down the hallway around this corner. His sight didn¡¯t seem affected by the oppressive darkness that used to leave him blind without a source of light. Yet another thing he has to thank these new powers for. It certainly makes this easier than it otherwise would be. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but he knew that meant little around this place. He picked out the open vent right above the door to the party room. The door to the room was covered in a multitude of plushies of the mascots. They were a hit with the kids, so it made sense to make a bunch of them. Even Mike had to admit that they had a strange, teddy bear like charm to them. Right now, though, they were small landmines that would go off and give away their position if they weren¡¯t careful.
He turns around, nods towards Jeremy, and slowly moves around the corner in a crouch. He¡¯s careful to step around and away from any stray dolls on the ground. Jeremy, after doing a double take around down the other hallway to be sure, followed Mike as best he could. The older guard¡¯s steps were difficult to keep track of for Jeremy. They seemed almost other worldly at times. Even when Mike did end up stepping on an unavoidable plushie, he did so with so little force that it doesn¡¯t make a sound.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Keeping his voice low, Jeremy says, ¡°Mike, I-I¡¯ve got to tell you something.¡±
¡°Yeah, what is it?¡± Mike places his back up against the wall right before the door to the party room. Jeremy follows behind, his legs shaking slightly at the thought of being discovered.
¡°Well,¡± Jeremy stops numerous times trying to find a way to articulate his point, ¡°Last night, after you pass out, the Marionette came out and it¡.it¡.it tal¡ª¡±
The sound of glass shattering rang from inside the party room. Both nightguards froze up, surprised at the volume of the sound. They looked at each other once, before Mike dashed into the prize room with BB still held in his right hand. Jeremy tried to stop him but his friend was too fast. Realizing his source of light was now inside the room, he quickly moved in after him.
The prize room itself wasn¡¯t very remarkable. A standard prize desk were the kids can cash in tickets for the plushies set up on the shelves on the walls. The only major difference was the giant, white and pink striped box in the middle of the room. It was where they kept the Marionette animatronic.
And it was currently tipped over with its sides stomped flat by a multitude of feet. Next to the open hatch, a tiny, brown music box with the remains of a ballerina smashed against the ground.
Jeremy fall to his knees with his hand outstretched towards the destroyed item. He looks at it with the eyes of a man whose only lifeline has just been cut. He couldn¡¯t say anything, just mumble nonsense while his brain tried to come up with an appropriate response. His hand drooped to the ground along with his head. His voice finally came back to him, ¡°It¡¯s¡. it¡¯s¡. no. It can¡¯t be. How are we going to survive now? That will¡. it¡¯ll just¡. grab us right out of the office and¡.¡±
¡°Jere, calm down,¡± the calm, collected voice of his friend reached his ears, once again dispelling the despair that was taking hold of Jeremy¡¯s heart. He stood up as Mike turned towards the door.
Jeremy followed, ¡°Ok, but Mike, aren¡¯t you even a little bit worried?¡±
¡°Why should I be?¡± came the curt reply.
¡°You know why! That thing is the most dangerous one of them. The light glitch doesn¡¯t work on it, it knows exactly where we are no matter what room it is, and its too fast for us to keep track of so we can¡¯t make a plan to counter it,¡± Jeremy takes a breath, finished listing off the reasons why the situation they were in was one of the worst they couldn¡¯t been put in. ¡°And the music box was the only way to stop it. Without that¡. what can we do?¡±
Jeremy reached the side of his fellow guard. He looked up into Mike¡¯s face and beheld the same manic smile and burning eyes that he remembered from when he started choking Vincent.
Mike turned towards his friend and spoke with utter certainty, ¡°Jere, don¡¯t you remember what we talked about last night? What our plan was?¡±
Slightly afraid of Mike¡¯s feral gaze, Jeremy gulped before replying, ¡°Y-yes. We just let you handle everything, while I stay out of sight. B-but that was for when we were in the office.¡±
¡°So?¡± Mike quickly walks to a wall and starts to size it up. His stance is relaxed and ready with his arms at his sides. BB¡¯s feet almost touch the ground, causing the small robot to start trying to get away from the nightguard. Mike nods and says, ¡°The plan hasn¡¯t changed. Just the way we get it started. Instead of waiting for them to come to us¡.¡±
The sound of drywall being smashed in caused Jeremy to jump. He stumbled over the plushies that littered the floor, falling to the tiled floor on top of a pile of plushy goodness. He shakes his head, looking over to where Mike was¡. then his jaw dropped to the floor.
Mike stands with BB slammed into a newly made, small, BB shaped hole in the wall. With a tiny chuckle, Mike speaks loud enough for his voice to carry, ¡°We¡¯re brining the fight right to them!¡±
In the first Party Room, on top of a wooden stage, the red curtain begins to rise¡
The Show Begins
Mike slammed the round animatronic into the metal desk. The sound echoed throughout the empty room making Jeremy put his fingers in his ears. The older night guard placed the grey tablet that controlled the cameras near Balloon Boy¡¯s face. He kept a firm grip on the animatronic¡¯s neck while speaking, ¡°This is what you wanted isn¡¯t it?¡±
When the bot didn¡¯t reply, he slammed it against the table again. This time he yelled his question, ¡°Isn¡¯t it!?¡± BB nodded as much as his robotic frame could with his neck held in a vice grip. The nightguard chuckled darkly, ¡°So you can understand me, eh? Good to know. Now then, why don¡¯t you show me where your friends are?
Mike tapped the tablet with his left index finger. The device powered on with a staticky noise, revealing a slightly, static-filled picture. The room being observed was the Toy Room, where the box with the Puppet still lay smashed and broken. In the bottom left corner lay a simplified map of the restaurant with the names of the different main rooms in small boxes. The box with the office in it was symbolized by a blinking green light that never went out.
¡°Just tap on where your little buddies are, and I¡¯ll let you go. Won¡¯t even rip a limb off. Ok?¡± Mike stood there and waited for the animatronic to reveal his comrades¡¯ whereabouts.
However, five minutes passed, and BB hadn¡¯t moved an inch. Mike adjusted his hat with his left hand, then tapped on the tablet again, ¡°Come on, now. We haven¡¯t got all night.¡±
He was met with more silence. The only sound in the room was the monotone droning of the fan. Jeremy scratched the back of his neck as the tension in the room rose ever higher. His gaze kept flicking between his friend and one of the robots that had attacked them every night going on two months now. He kept fingering the flashlight at his side, wondering if he would even need to use it tonight.
As the silence dragged on for another five minutes, Jeremy spoke up, ¡°Um, Mike? I don¡¯t think he¡¯s going to¡ª¡±
He is cut off as BB is lifted from the table and crashes into the back wall. He starts to fall, before Mike slams into him with an elbow to the throat. The little bot struggles a bit, before Mike slams him into the wall again, this time cracking both it and some of the suit covering up BB¡¯s gears. As the crack makes it way across BB¡¯s eye, Mike growls in a feral voice, ¡°This is your last chance you demented, balloon peddling, bastard. Tell me where they are, or I start ripping your circuitry out one by one.¡±
Once his initial shock wears off, Jeremy realizes what his friend is doing and rushes towards him. He starts to pull at Mike¡¯s arm while yelling, ¡°M-Mike! Calm down, calm down! You¡¯re going too far! There¡¯s no need to torture him!¡±
Mike sees his friend pulling at his arm and his features soften a bit. He shakes his head and sneers at the robot he has against the wall. He holds BB there for a few more moments, before sighing and throwing the robot back onto the desk.
The older Nightguard looks at the ground to avoid eye contact with his friend, ¡°Sorry about that. But, what do you mean ¡®too far¡¯?¡± He looks over at his comrade, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
Jeremy, suddenly feeling very small underneath the scrutiny of his friend, starts to stammer out an answer, ¡°W-w-well it¡¯s just that, uh, I-I know they¡¯ve done some¡. bad things to us. B-but do you really have to be so¡¡ aggressive?¡±
Mike sighs while placing an arm around Jeremy¡¯s shoulders, ¡°Jere, we¡¯ve been¡ª¡±
Before Mike could continue, the sound of a camera changing its viewpoint hit their ears. Quickly, they glanced at the desk, only to find it empty save for the tablet and fan on it. Mike dashed towards the left vent while Jeremy went to check on the tablet. The older Nightguard stared down the empty vent, cursing as he heard BB getting farther and farther away. He stood up and turned to look at his friend. His face turned from frustration to concern at the awestruck look on Jeremy¡¯s face.
Mike looked over his friend¡¯s shoulder¡. only to snatch the tablet out his hands and stare at it with the same amount of awe.
The camera was set to Party Room 1, looking straight at the stage.
And standing on the stage, where almost all the animatronics. They stood side by side, with the only exceptions being the original Freddy and Foxy. Everyone else, even the repaired Mangle, original Bonnie, and original Chica were there. They stared straight into the camera with their cold, unblinking eyes and unmoving mouths. At the center of their formation was the black and white figure of the Marionette. Its elongated, clawed hands were holding up a large white piece of paper with three words written in black ink that ran all the way down the paper:
Come. Get. Us.
Jeremy brought a hand to his mouth at the sight of the message. He fell back into one of the chairs, trying to make sense of what was happening. The animatronics were calling Mike out? Why would they do that? Jeremy knew there was something more to them after what happened with the Puppet last night, but to do this? Don¡¯t they know what Mike can do? Why would they openly call him out¡ªunless they have a plan.
A sudden, terrifying realization hit Jeremy just as he looked over at Mike. A pit formed in his stomach as he saw the manic grin on his best friend¡¯s face.
Before Jeremy could even speak, Mike was already fast walking towards the hallway. With speed he didn¡¯t think he had, Jeremy vaulted over the desk and grabbed Mike¡¯s right arm to stop his friend in his tracks. He shouted, ¡°Don¡¯t Mike! It¡¯s obviously a trap!¡±
Mike firmly, but gently removed his friend¡¯s hands from his arm. He turned around and said, ¡°Then what should I do, Jere? Just sit here and do nothing while they taunt us like this!?¡±
Jeremy was so nervous he could feel his legs shaking, but he couldn¡¯t stand by while his friend walked into such as obvious trap, ¡°Well, eh, yes!¡± At Mike¡¯s incredulous look, he quickly continued, ¡°Think about it, do we really need to fight them? All the animatronics are in the Party Room. It¡¯s almost 2:50. If we can just survive for three more hours we can go home. There¡¯s no reason to fight them.¡±
¡°No reason to¡ªhave you forgotten!?¡± Mike¡¯s voice was barely low enough to not register as a scream, ¡°Everything they¡¯ve done! How many times have we been forced to huddle in a corner while they start closing in on us? How many times have we had to put on that stupid, Freddy hat to fool them? And worse still, how many Nightguards do you think they¡¯ve killed up to this point? How many more they will kill if they finally get lucky one day and stuff us in a fucking suit?!
Mike grabbed hold of Jeremy¡¯s shoulders, ¡°This isn¡¯t about survival anymore, Jeremy! This is more than that! This is about retribution! And I won¡¯t stand here doing nothing while they taunt us! And if it is a trap, so what? I¡¯ll fucking break out of it, no problem, and get back here before 6:00!¡±
With that, the oldest Nightguard patted his friend on the shoulders and turned to head down the hallway. Before he left, he looked back and nodded at his friend saying, ¡°Trust me.¡±
With that, he was gone.
Unable to find any words to dissuade his friend, Jeremy could do nothing but sit back down in his chair. He stared down the long, dark corridor after the golden glow of his comrade. Then it disappeared around a corner into the restaurant. Jeremy sighed while picking up the tablet and started switching through all the rooms in the Pizzeria. At the very least, he could keep an eye out and try to warn Mike if the animatronics had set something up in advance.
As the younger Nightguard tapped away on the device in his hand, the door to the Parts and Service area slid open. A hook reached out of the darkness, followed by a large, brown foot paw.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
It didn¡¯t take long for Mike the reach Party Room 1. It was quite literally just around the left corner of the hallway to his right. He adjusted his hat before bursting into the open doors of the room. It was still the same, boring grey that it had always been, but this time the tables and chairs had been pushed up against the wall. The floors were covered in confetti and popped balloons that were almost invisible in the darkness. The lights were on, but they were so dim that Mike could hardly make out anything in the room¡at least until he stepped inside.
The glow around his body lit up enough of the room to see all the way to the stage. There stood the Puppet, flanked on all sides by its entourage. To its left stood the newer Toy animatronics, their shiny, plastic bodies reflecting Mike¡¯s glow into all corners of the room.
At their center was Toy Freddy, his mike constantly being beaten against his palm in anticipation of what was to come. Toy Chica was to the left, cupcake gone with her hands crossed over her chest. Her beak was gone along with the plastic eyes that normally resided inside her head. Instead, her eyes were black pits with small white dots shining through them. To the right was Toy Bonnie, the blue rabbit holding his electric guitar like a bat. He gave it a few test swings while staring at the Nightguard as he walked into the room. And right above them all was the newly repaired Mangle, still as¡well mangled as it always was. It hung from the rafters while making that same, static-filled noise that sounded like a corrupted phone line.
On the Puppet¡¯s right were the repaired Chica and Bonnie. Well, ¡°repaired¡± was subjective. They looked the exact same from last night, but they were back to working order. Bonnie even had his arm back, something it demonstrated by miming crushing Mike¡¯s skull in his hand. Chica just rocked from side to side, her opened jaw attempting to close itself with each movement.
Mike raised an eyebrow at the fact that Freddy and Foxy weren¡¯t anywhere to be seen. He¡¯d thought that after what he did to the duo, they¡¯d get the first shot on him. Didn¡¯t matter much, but it was something he kept in the back of his mind.
Instead, he focused his attention on the only robot looking at him with any sort of real intelligence: The Puppet. It had placed the piece of paper with the challenge written on it at its feet. Its eyes never left Mike as it rose to its full height. Every one of the robotic monstrosities towered over the Nightguard and this one was no exception. It floated into the air as the strings on its back pulled it upwards using some invisible force. Its smile mask was curled downward in a frown along with its eyes. Its head moved back and forth like a clock until Mike stepped into the middle of the room. Then it stopped and raised up a clawed hand.
The entire room fell silent.
Mike scanned the animatronics that stood before him. He counted all of them and took out one of his cigarettes. He placed it in his mouth, took out his lighter with his right hand, and lit it up. He kept the lighter in the palm of his hand while he curled it into a fist. He took a single, long drag on the cigarette in his mouth. Then he let it all out with one puff.
As the smoke cleared away, Mike smiled at the creatures before him, ¡°Only seven of you? Heh. I might actually have to break a sweat this time. But, before we start, I got something to ask you, Puppet Fucker.¡± Mike pointed at the floating Marionette with his left index finger.
The Marionette tilted its head to the side to indicate it had heard him.
¡°Tell me this, how many guards have died before Jere and I got here?¡±
The Puppet didn¡¯t move for a few seconds as it looked through its memory banks to find the answer. Mike stood waiting, his eyes never leaving the robot.
Finally, it held up five long fingers as its face changed into a smile.
Mike looked at the bot¡¯s hand, then laughed out loud. He looked at the ground and shook his head, ¡°Always thought it¡¯d be a single digit number. Thought it¡¯d be like three or two or something like that. Was hoping it¡¯d only be one. Not that it matters much, after all¡.¡±
Mike let the cigarette fall from his mouth onto the floor. Then he stomped it out immediately.
His cutting, angry gaze lifted up to the seven soon to be broken robots in front of him, ¡°Even that, would¡¯ve been one too many.¡±
With the thunderous sounds of heavy metal feet hitting tiled floors, six animatronics rushed the lone nightguard in the middle of the room. The Puppet remained floating in place, both of its hands at his sides as it observed what the Nightguard would do.
Mike stood stock still with both his hands by his sides and his foot still on the spot where he crushed the lighter. He didn¡¯t give away anything about his current condition, even as the herd of metal robots closed in on him. He stood there and waited with his eyes on the Puppet the whole time. His gaze was firm and unmoving for the few seconds remaining until the animatronics reached him.
It was when Toy Bonnie¡¯s shadow passed over him did his eyes move away from the black and white ringleader.
He grabbed the neck of the instrument with his left hand and kicked out at the robot¡¯s knee with his right foot. The sound of metal creaking and shattering under intense pressure was heard, as Mike ripped the guitar from Toy Bonnie¡¯s hands. He brought it back until it was over his shoulder then swung with enough might to knock Toy Bonnie¡¯s head off.
As the blue bunny¡¯s head fell to the ground in slow motion, Mike ducked underneath a swipe from his predecessor¡¯s right arm. From below he saw a yellow, pointed foot coming for his eye from his right side. He fell to the floor and rolled away from the group to get some distance. The foot continued to follow him, soon joined by a brown paw that crashed near the left side of his head. With little room to maneuver, Mike swung out with the guitar that was now an improvised baseball bat.
He felt two legs give way and saw the falling forms of Toy Chia and Toy Freddy. Mike leaped to his feet just as Mangle dropped from the sky. A chill breeze made Mike feel the top of his head where his hat used to be. He looked back and a bluish streak flies into the air along with the amalgamation of parts.
Mike scowled up at the ceiling before something that felt like two metal rods fall against his outstretched arms. He crooked his head around to see the older Chica rearing her head back. The sound of mechanical footsteps made him jerk his head forward to see the older Bonnie rushing at him with a wound-up right arm. The lone red eye in the bot¡¯s head made trails in the darkness as it ran at Mike. Behind it, Mike could see the headless body of Toy Bonnie crawling its way towards its detached head, while the other Toy¡¯s were heading towards him too.
The Nightguard looked at the four robots surrounding him, felt how much give and resistance Chica¡¯s ¡°wings¡± afforded him, and prepared his plan. Taking a deep breath, he pushed his back up against Chica¡¯s chest until she took three steps backward. This gave him the leverage he needed to pull his legs up into the air. As he expected, Bonnie¡¯s claw missed him by mere inches. Before the purple fuck could move away, Mike let his feet slam down on the robot¡¯s paw, hard. The force was enough to slacken Chica¡¯s grip, let Mike elbow her hard enough to send her flying back a few feet. The purple bunny¡¯s arm acted as a fine, metal bar that Toy Freddy and Toy Chica tripped over before they could stop their running.
Bonnie kept pulling at his arm to no avail. With a smile, Mike kissed the fist holding his lighter and turned to the animatronic in front of him, ¡°Hey, Bunny Fucker. You feel a trip down memory lane?¡±
Bonnie¡¯s shriek was cut off as Mike punched his entire torso clear of his lower half. His arm and legs were the only things left while his body crashed against one of the tables set up in the corner. Mocking shaking his fist, Mike stepped backward and aimed the guitar in his hands like a javelin. The headstock acted as the point as he took aim at the light blue form of Toy Bonnie who had just gotten close to his head. Then, Mike chucked the instrument, impaling the Toy¡¯s torso into the floor. It fell silent as the eyes in its head looked towards the Nightguard with a blank stare.
The Nightguard smiled, before turning around and kicking the older Chica in the side. She let her wing fall to grip Mike¡¯s outstretched leg, but that just gave him the chance to jump up and kick her in the head with his other one. As she tumbled to the ground, Mike lifted his foot up in preparation. But just before he could bring it down on the bird¡¯s head, the felt something try and bite into his shoulder.
Emphasis on try.
Rather than pain, Mike only felt a slight pinch on his right shoulder. He turned and stared at the face of the Mangle, now wearing his Nightguard hat. Their eyes met for a moment. Mike reached up and took his hat back. Then he punched the robot so hard that it almost hit the Puppet as it floated above the stage. The Marionette caught Mangle in its arms before they crashed together.
Mike scowled at the floating bastard, before dashing over to where Toy Freddy and Toy Chica were picking themselves off the floor. They were next to some of the tables that had been set up against the walls and Mike took full advantage. He grabbed one and slammed it down hard enough to crack it in twain. The two animatronics found themselves smacked back into the ground by the force. Before they could stand, Mike, did the same thing with three more tables to be sure they wouldn¡¯t be getting up any time soon.
Confident that most of his opposition was either out of commission or in pieces, Mike turned his gaze to the Puppet. He pointed towards it with his right index finger and shouted, ¡°It¡¯s just you and me now! Let¡¯s see what ya got, ya ugly bastard!¡± Mike¡¯s golden glow had been kept at a low light this whole time. It hardly illuminated more than the area below his feet. But now, as he jumped into the air towards the floating ringleader, it began to shine intensely. A mark that symbolized the sun as it shined in the sky at the peak of dawn shone brilliantly on his forehead.
Yet, even in the face of this glorious, golden demi-god flying towards it with a fist of fury, the Puppet¡¯s smile stayed on its face.
It wasn¡¯t until he heard the familiar scream did Mike understand why.
¡°MIIIKKKEEE!!!!¡±
Mike stopped in mid-air, his fist mere millimeters away from the Marionette¡¯s smug mask. As he fell to the ground his head swiveled to the entrance to the Party Room¡.and he felt his heart sink.
Jeremy was held in the grip of Freddy Fazbear, as Foxy held his hook up to the human¡¯s neck.
The Show Ends
Mike felt various emotions as he landed on the creaky, wooden boards that made up the stage. Chief among them was anger as he watched the bear hold Jeremy with his large, mechanical arm around the human''s neck. Jeremy struggled in the animatronic''s grasp, kicking his legs ineffectually at the bear holding him hostage. His hat had fallen off at some point, leaving his disheveled, revealing blonde hair.
Tunnel vision set in as adrenaline mixed with anger in his mind. He felt his fist tighten and hearing shorten until the only thing he could hear was the sound of Jeremy''s struggles. Without any deliberation, he kicked off the stage to hit the ground running. His arms pumped with purpose as he went to save his best friend.
Almost as soon as his shoe hit the ground, Mike heard a sharp intake of breath come from his friend. He stared up in horror as Foxy''s hook dug deep enough into Jeremy''s neck to draw a trickle of blood. However, the sight of the dark red liquid only served to spur Mike on. He was certain he could get there and save his friend. He just had to move a bit faster.
Teeth grit in concentration and drive, the vivid nightguard put as much force behind his legs as he could. The image of Freddy''s caved in face flashed through his mind as he rocketed towards the robot. He faintly saw Jeremy''s lips moving, but he couldn''t hear the words through his fugue. His fist was brought back in preparation to knock Freddy''s block off again.
Out of the corner of his eye, Mike saw something glimmer in the air. He payed it little mind as he reached the middle of the room.
Then, pain lanced throughout his entire body.
His momentum abruptly came to a stop as long, black wires, completely hidden within the darkness of the room, hugged his body until they covered him from head to toe. A soft, stretching sound echoed through the room as the taut wire cut into Mike''s skin. Faster than he could see, the wires were pulled back and brought him to a screeching halt.
Mike, his tunnel vision gone in the face of the pain and bleeding, grunted loudly at the sharp pain he felt. His entire body was on fire, his movements were restricted, and his hat had fallen from his head again. His right hand involuntarily opened, dropping his lighter to the ground with a soft ding against the floor. Mike twisted in his bonds to get out, but all it accomplished was digging the wire deeper into his skin. He grunted out, eyes flicking every which way to find the one who did this.
It couldn''t be anyone of the animatronics he fought earlier. Each and everyone of them was in too much disrepair to do anything save aimlessly wander the perimeter of the room. Freddy and Foxy were in front of him, their permanent smiles mocking him as he struggled in the web of cables. That Balloon Fucker was no where to be seen, and he wouldn''t be able to do anything like this anyway. That leaves¡ª
"You acted just as I predicted," the low, mechanical, menacing voice came from behind Mike. He tried to turn his head to look behind him, but he could hardly move with the amount of coil around his neck. He was forced to watch as the Puppet elegantly floated above the wires and down in front of the captured nightguard.
Mike''s eyes looked up and stared at the strings that connected the Puppet to the machinery in the roof. Jeremy understood more about the inner workings of that shit than he did, but that didn''t mean he couldn''t understand how this mechanical fucker managed this.
The Puppet daintily lifted Mike''s chin with one hand. The wires connected to its fingers shifted, but not enough to let the human snap them in two. The animatronic examined Mike''s face like he was a piece of meat much to his frustration. Eventually, the machine let his head drop, "You''re not him."
Mike attempted to reply, but the coils around his neck tighten to silence him. He still manages to growl with enough threat to make the Puppet unwillingly step back. The room is filled with the sound of the other animatronics trying to put themselves back together. While Mike hand bent their outer shells in multiple places, some of which had wiring sticking out of the side, he hadn''t put them all out of commission. Old Bonnie and Chica put their associated body parts back on with ease, while Toy Chica and Toy Frieddy started to pull themselves out of the ground. Even the Mangle was slowly making its way back into the ceiling. Part of its head was caved in, but most of the damage had been negated by the Puppet''s intervention.
The Puppet floated towards Jeremy, its hand outstretched to grab him by the chin. Jeremy looked terrified but he didn''t flinch when the Marionette got close. He stared down the white pinpricks that acted as its eyes without averting his gaze once. The Puppet got close enough to prick the smooth part of Jeremy''s skin¡then turned away.
"I know this one. It''s not him, either. Foxy, Freddy, you know what to do," the Marionette said as it floated over Mike''s body towards the stage, "We''ll take care of Mr. Schmidt here. Make sure to hide their bodies everyone, kids shouldn''t see thing like th¡ª"
As it landed on the floor behind Mike the Puppet tugged on the strings wrapped around its fingers¡and was confused. It tugged them again and felt¡slack in them. But the only way for that to happen is if¡
That was when he heard the snapping.
And the sound of blood dripping to the ground.
Everyone in the room watched as Mike Schmidt, slowly but surely, walked to his best friend.
Jeremy had a front row seat to what was happening to Mike. Freddy was gripping him hard enough to make sure he didn''t slip away, but not enough to crush his windpipe¡along with the rest of his torso. He could''ve gradually slid his way out of the bear''s grasp if it wasn''t for the pirate''s hook stabbing into his throat.
He knew he couldn''t do anything from the position he was in.
But that didn''t make having to watch the events unfold hurt any less.
Jeremy had watched as Mike ran straight to him, saw the Puppet stretch out its fingers, then saw the gleaming wires reveal themselves in Mike''s path. He yelled out a warning, but Mike couldn''t seem to hear him. He was forced to stand by as the wires coiled around his friend''s body and drew so much blood from him. He couldn''t act at all as the Puppet proceeded to pass judgement on the both of them without so much as a second thought. As if their guilt had been decided from the start.
However, he hadn''t given up. As they had seen, Mike can take more punishment than a normal human should be able to. Based on what the Puppet had said, the animatronics were planning to stuff them into suits. Jeremy couldn''t survive that, but Mike could. He would wait until Freddy and Foxy left the room, find some way to slip away, and hide out until 6:00 AM. He hated the thought of leaving his friend behind but gambling on Mike''s powers was their best option right now.
That plan was made through Jeremy''s logical and rational thinking.
It was soon drowned out by the immense dread he felt at watching Mike force his way through the wires.
"Stop! Mike, stop! Y-y-you''re going to die!" Jeremy renewed his struggles within the bear''s grasp, not caring about the hook poised to piece his flesh. He did have a plan to gamble on Mike''s powers, trust he could survive the pain, then break out of the suit to escape, but this was too much. The wires were stretched thin enough to slice through bone given enough time and Mike''s actions expediting the process! And based on the steadily increasing trail of blood at the older man''s feet, his powers couldn''t help here.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Jeremy kept yelling, pleading for Mike to stop and let his body rest. However, every step Mike took snapped more and more wires every time. By the time he got past the tables, both of his arms were completely freed. However, they weren''t clenched in fist of anger as the black strings fell from his hands. They hung limply at his sides, completely useless. His legs were next, followed by his torso, and finally his neck and head, until all the black coils snap and fall to the ground lifelessly.
Mike, blood staining his uniform black lumbered towards Freddy, his eyes firmly set on Jeremy. Foxy made to step in his path, before a weak but firm shove from Mike forced him back. The pirate was forced back slightly behind the bear as the nightguard stepped up to Freddy.
Jeremy stared into Mike''s blood covered eyes. Where once there was life and vibrant expression, there was a blank stare. But his eyes were still shining with the embers of defiance, ready to perform one last action.
He reached up, grasped the arm that was holding Jeremy, ducked under the hook from the right arm, and pulled.
Jeremy hit the ground with a soft thud, standing in front of Mike.
Mike placed one hand on Jeremy''s chest and smiled.
Then he pushed him out of the room, just when Freddy grabbed him by the back of his collar. Mike was thrown backwards into the Party Room, where he hit the ground hard. All the animatronics that could still move closed in. He managed to get to his knees and stare up at the various robots coming his way. He saw a shadow fall over his face as the Puppet descended into his field of view.
"Impressive, but ultimately futile," its mask was still smiling, "Don''t worry though, we''ll deal with you here before going after your friend. Any last words, Mr. Schmidt?"
Mike stared into the eyes of the Marionette as the other animatronics (sans Toy Bonnie and Balloon Boy) surrounded him. His head swiveled in a circle as he looked at each and everyone of their blank faces, before finally turning to their leader.
He lifted his head up and spat blood on the Puppet''s face.
He smiled as the Puppet''s mask shifted into a frown.
Next thing he knew, he was knocked to the ground by a fist from his right.
Jeremy scrambled to his feet outside of the room, using the wall as support to get to his feet. The room was too dark to see into from the hallway, but he could here the sounds of Mike being beaten to a pulp. A constant, wet, crunching and mechanical sound that echoed into his ears. He was breathing heavily, head whipping to and fro, trying to think of what he could do here.
His first thought was to run, so he started to make his way to the office. The Puppet had said that he would be next once they were done with Mike and it was obvious his best friend had done everything in his power to make sure he lived through the night. He didn''t know what time it was, but he could easily find that out from the office. All he had to do was get into his chair and hold out. The music box was gone, but he could probably find something to fend off the Marionette.
As he got closer to the office, the sounds from the Party Room kept getting quieter and quieter. His pace was quick at first but slowed as he reached the corner that connected to the main hallway. His hand was on the wall while the other was held at his sides. Though he could hardly hear the beatdown, every little noise that reached his ears made him feel the pain. He flinched at each smack or crack that came his way. Eyes closed, teeth clenched, he tried to force himself to the office.
''Mike''ll be fine,'' he told himself as the crunch of bone came to him.
''He''ll survive this,'' he told himself as a bloody smack made his stomach churn.
''He can survive anything, he can¡ª'' at this point he stopped telling himself things.
Slowly, he stepped into the office. With its fan, tablet, chair and table.
He stared at the items on the table and reached out one hand.
Mike''s eyes could hardly stay open anymore.
His arms and legs were broken in numerous places. His chest hurt and he had trouble breathing, he was pretty sure a lung was punctured. His back was covered in bruises, and everything was red with the color of his own blood. He had been in plenty of scrapes and been beatdown plenty of times. But he had to admit, this one was the worst of the bunch.
Didn''t help that the animal fuckers knew how to follow up. One would punch him in one kidney, then the other would kick him in the second. They always followed each other''s strikes ensuring that the pain never dulled. His body was destroyed, and he doubted that he''d even survive this. He could already feel his heart pumping slower and slower by the moment.
''Damn,'' he thought as Mangle''s teeth bit into the shoulder it couldn''t damaged before, the skin weakened by his injuries, ''Was hoping I could last till 6. Sorry, Jere, but at least you''re safe. I''ll be seeing ya¡ª"
A loud CLANG sound caused all of the animatronics to cease their attack.
They all turned to look at Freddy, who slowly turned around to look behind him. Mike lifted his head up as much as he could to see what had happened. His eyes were blurry with blood running down and catching in his eyelashes, but that didn''t stop him from seeing the familiar form standing behind the bear.
Mike felt his stomach drop at the sight of Jeremy, entire body shaking in fear, holding the fan from the office in his hands like an impromptu weapon. The device was bent from where it had hit Freddy, but the younger nightguard still held it out in front of him for dear life.
He stood his ground, gulping as he tried to look threatening, "L-l-l-leave m-my best friend alone!"
Mike tried to tell him to run but all that would come out of his mouth was blood. He coughed as he tried to get to his feet. Pain shot through his body that nearly caused him to pass out. He heard Freddy''s footsteps and ignored it.
''Come on! Come on! Get up!'' he shouted in his head even though his body wouldn''t listen. He looked up at the sound of Jeremy yelling, watching the blonde nightguard rush at the bear with the fan raised high.
Freddy backhanded him and sent him flying into the wall to the left.
Jeremy slid down the wall and slumped against it.
The bear turned to continue the assault against Mike¡until the sound of metal being ripped open screeched throughout the room.
Freddy, feeling a change in his weight, looked down at this chest.
It was the last thing he saw being his entire body was ripped in half by the bare hands of Mike Schmidt.
The Puppet, completely floored by how this human was still moving, directed everyone to attack the nightguard. However, none of them would listen to the Marionette. His eyes kept swiveling between his friends, wondering why none of them would move. Mike was still bleeding enough to leave a trail on the floor, and he had just destroyed Freddy. Shouldn''t they all be piling on top of him by now?!
The Puppet shout a furious glare towards Mike¡and then he understood everything.
As Mike walked over to Jeremy, checking the younger man''s pulse, the Puppet saw something behind Mike. The nightguard''s golden glow was back and brighter than ever before. It illuminated the entire room, giving off enough light to burn away all the shadows in the room. The mark on his forehead was back and literally projecting its symbol onto the walls as Mike took his friend''s body into his arms. But it wasn''t any of this that gave the Puppet pause.
No, it was the figure standing behind Mike.
The Puppet had never seen anything like it. It stood tall enough to touch the ceiling, was armored from head to toe, and had gauntlets that looked like they could punch through even the thickest of walls. It followed Mike''s movements exactly, as if it was an extension of the smaller man. As he stared at the transparent thing, the Puppet felt the exact same feeling he had yesterday when Mike had spoken to him during the day shift. The feeling of needing to apologize for everything that it had done. To go to the authorities, bear its heart to them, and be punished for the crimes it had committed.
For, as it caught a glimpse of the apparition''s eyes hidden within its helmet, it understood one thing very clearly.
There would be no mercy from here on.
Only execution.
In the blink of an eye, Mike was at the entrance to the room, where he set Jeremy down on the floor. Then he was back in the Party Room, bending over and picking his lighter from the floor. In a panic, the Marionette tried to think of a way to escape. It remembered the vents and attempted to head for the roof¡but its legs refused to obey it. They remained rooted to the spot as Mike picked up the lighter, wiped the blood from it, and turned his attention towards the remaining animatronics.
The six remaining animatronics finally got a full view of Mike''s face.
His eyes were shining gold.
And, with one glance into those swirling pools of light, they knew they stood no chance.
With a battle cry that shook the very foundations of the restaurant, Mike shot forward towards the sinners he would bring judgement upon this night.
When Mr. Fazbear came to his establishment to welcome the day, he beheld a horrible sight.
In one of the Party Rooms, his two nightguards were slumped against the floor. One was lying in the hallway, his chest rising and falling steadily. The other was in a pool of blood with lacerations and bruises all over his body. His uniform was destroyed beyond any reasonable repair.
But what truly caused him to be furious, the primary cause for his distress, was the state of the animatronics.
There was hardly anything left of any of them.
No bodies.
No endoskeletons.
No wires, gears, or oil.
Nothing except for their severed heads impaled on the stage itself.
Separate Ways/A New Threat
¡°And in a shocking announcement today, William ¡°Fazbear¡± Afton, owner of the popular and lucrative children¡¯s restaurant chain, has temporarily closed down the latest Freddy Fazbear¡¯s Pizzeria. This comes as a shock to the community, considering the restaurant has been open 24/7 even during harsh weather conditions,¡± the reporter¡¯s voice crackled slightly as it emerged from the hospital room¡¯s TV. Outside, a torrent of rain poured down to the earth in a staccato pattern. Dark clouds covered the sky, making what should be early morning sunshine feel more like a gray, gloomy afternoon.
Jeremy and Mike had their attention glued to the screen. Jeremy was on Mike¡¯s right, sitting in a chair with his uniform still on. He wasn¡¯t as hurt as his friend, so his clothes were still intact. He would scratch at his head as he watched the News with a nervous feeling in his gut.
Mike, on the other hand, was in the hospital bed with an I-V in his left arm. A heart monitor was sitting right next to it with its own wires and diodes placed upon his body. He sat up in bed in his green hospital gown. The older nightguard grunted and shifted in the bed while scowling at the TV.
The reporter continued, ¡°While Mr. Fazbear refused an interview with us, he did give a public address to explain the shutdown.¡±
The screen transitioned from a man behind the desk to a woman holding a microphone in front of the familiar, round form of Mr. Fazbear. His eyes kept darting to the side while he spoke to the reporter, ¡°I regret to inform the public that Freddy Fazbear¡¯s will be closed for an indeterminant amount of time. Some¡hoodlums broke into the restaurant last night and damaged the animatronics. The restaurant will remain closed until we can get repairs done. That is all.¡±
The screen went back to the man, ¡°That is all the information Mr. Fazbear shared with us. The police are already searching for anyone who coul¡ª¡±
Mike hit the power button on the remote sitting on his bed. The TV winked off, causing the man to let out a sigh as he laid back against his pillow. He turned towards the younger nightguard at his side, ¡°Jere, be straight with me, what happened last night?¡±
Jeremy started wringing his hands as he spoke, ¡°Well¡what¡¯s the last thing you remember?¡±
Mike shook his head, but smiled, ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to answer a question with a question, Jere. But the last thing I remember was you getting knocked away by that fucking bear after you tried to fight him with a fan. Why¡¯d you do that anyway? You knew it wouldn¡¯t work.¡±
Jeremy looked down at the floor, ¡°I-I wanted to help¡¡±
¡°Hey, I¡¯m not saying it was a bad thing. I just didn¡¯t expect something like that out of you. You did good,¡± Mike saw the tension drain from Jeremy¡¯s body and continued, ¡°After that, my vision went red, I lost control of my body, and charged right at that brown fuck. And from there, it¡¯s just blank.¡±
Mike shrugged while indicating that Jeremy should tell his side of the story with a wave. The younger nightguard nodded, ¡°I¡¯m about the same. The attack knocked me out and I didn¡¯t wake up until I was in the ambulance. They took me to a normal hospital room since I didn¡¯t have any real injuries. The doctors say I have a minor concussion and some head trauma. But I should be fine as long I don¡¯t do anything too strenuous.¡±
¡°Is that why they¡¯ve got your head wrapped up like a Christmas present?¡± Mike indicated the gauze that wrapped all the way around Jeremy¡¯s head.
Jeremy scratched at the wrapping, slightly irritated by the dry sheets, ¡°Yeah. They cleared me to leave today. I can go whenever I wish.¡±
¡°And what about me? Do I have a green bill of health too?¡±
Jeremy flinched at the mention of Mike¡¯s condition. He fidgeted for a time before answering, ¡°W-well they¡they¡the doctors say that you¡¯re almost completely healed. You should be able to get out of here in one more day. But¡ª¡±
¡°Buuuttt?¡± Mike questioned his friend.
Jeremy looked Mike in the eyes, ¡°They want you to stay for three more days after you¡¯re cleared.¡±
¡°What?¡± Mike sat up a bit in his bed, ¡°Why? Why would they want me to stay here after I¡¯m cleared to go home?¡±
This time, Jeremy looked at Mike with a deadpan face. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before speaking, ¡°Mike, by all accounts you should be dead.¡±
Jeremy continued before Mike could say anything, counting off his fingers as he explained his point, ¡°You had lacerations that went as deep as your ribs, two of which were broken and punctured your lungs. Your legs were twisted to a point where they were considering experimental treatments to get them working again. Your breathing had stopped a while ago, and they had figured most of your brain cells were dead before you even got to the hospital. Many of your vital organs were bruised, smashed, or leaking fluid into your body. All in all, you shouldn¡¯t have lived through the night. They were ready to announce you dead first thing in the morning. And then the very next day¡¡±
Jeremy snapped his fingers, ¡°You¡¯re immediately doing better. Your ribs? Repaired and pushed back into place. Your legs? Untwisted and healing at a healthy rate. Your breathing and brain cells? Completely, 100%, normal and healthy. Your organs? Sealed up and no longer leaking any harmful fluids at all. All this within one day. And today? You¡¯re holding a conversation with me as if you never got hurt in the first place!¡±
Jeremy let the implications of the situation sink in. Mike stared at his friend for a bit without any explicit emotion on his face.
Then he gave a sad smile, and Jeremy wished he could take back what he said.
¡°That so,¡± Mike looked down at his hands, trying to sound upbeat, ¡°seems I caused you some more trouble, eh Jere?¡±
Jeremy tried to speak, but Mike continued, ¡°You were right, you know. I should¡¯ve listened to you from the start. Those bastards had set a trap for us and I walked right into it. If I had just stayed in the room with you, I could¡¯ve fought back that fucking bear and fox. Then, you wouldn¡¯t have been in danger. Instead, I let my damn pride and overconfidence get the best of me.¡±
Mike looked at his right hand with its palm up, ¡°I thought that now that I had this power, I could¡stop it. Stop the constant fear that we both suffered all those nights. Let us have a normal job for once and avenge all the ones who came before us.¡± He tightened his hand into a fist, ¡°Guess it was just a pipe dream, huh? Sure, I took out the robots, but you got hurt and I nearly died. Not to mention that there¡¯s no way Fazbear will let us off the hook for this. He¡¯ll tell the police that we were the only ones that had access to the building last night, and they¡¯ll use that to connect us to the crime. Even if we can say we had nothing to do with it, I have no doubt our rich boss will ¡®persuade¡¯ them to find us guilty anyway. Don¡¯t even get me started on if he decides to sue us.¡±
Mike¡¯s smile faded and his expression turned to despair as he ended his tirade, ¡°I didn¡¯t think about any of this until after it was all said and done. And because of that, I¡¯ve fucked us, Jeremy. I¡¯ve fucked us hard.
¡°C-come on, Mike. It¡¯s not that bad. You saved me after all, and I¡¯m sure that Mr. Fazbear will¡um¡¡± Jeremy was trying to cheer Mike up.
It wasn¡¯t working.
¡°No, Jere. This time, I¡¯m screwed,¡± Mike said while looking up at his friend.
Jeremy paused as he examined what Mike said, ¡°Wait, ¡®you¡¯re screwed¡¯? Don¡¯t you mean ¡®we¡¯re¡¯ screwed¡¯?¡±
Mike shook his head, ¡°No, Jeremy. I mean me. Fazbear still doesn¡¯t know exactly what happened back there. All he knows is that something happened between us and the animatronics. However, once the police investigate, they¡¯ll find my prints all over what¡¯s left of those robots. But not yours. The only thing you touched was the bent fan and at best Fazbear will take the money to fix it out of your paycheck. You haven¡¯t done anything worse than some minor property damage. Me? I¡¯m looking at nine counts of major property damage at least. If I take all the blame, you get off scot-free. It¡¯s the least I could do for ya for putting up with me all this time and for putting you in danger.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
¡°Mike¡no¡you don¡¯t have to¡,¡± Jeremy couldn¡¯t think of any argument that didn¡¯t sound illogical. The older nightguard was, objectively, right. There was no way Fazbear would let this slide. He¡¯s always placed his company and property over his employees. Why else would he force nightguards to stay quiet about the animatronics on pain of losing their jobs?
¡°Don¡¯t worry Jere,¡± Mike pounds his right fist into his left hand, ¡°I can take care of myself. Anyone who messes with me while I¡¯m locked up, will get a huge surprise.¡±
¡°But¡but¡no¡no! I won¡¯t let that happen!¡± Jeremy yelled so suddenly that even Mike was surprised. Jeremy¡¯s eyes stared at Mike, water gathering on the edges of his eyelids, ¡°You can¡¯t go to jail! Not now! Not after everything we¡¯ve been through, everything that¡¯s happened over the last four months! I¡¯ll figure something out! I can talk to Mr. Fazbear, get him to drop the charges. Threaten to expose what we¡¯ve been through each night to the public. I¡¯ll get his monetary records somehow, discredit him in the public¡¯s and investor¡¯s eyes. I¡¯ll¡ª,¡±
Mike put a firm hand on his friend¡¯s shoulder, cutting Jeremy¡¯s tirade off. He spoke to his friend with a finality to his voice, ¡°Jeremy, stop.¡±
Jeremy froze up for a few moments. Then the tears started to flow as he turned towards the bed, unable to meet Mike¡¯s gaze, ¡°I¡I¡¯m sorry, Mike. It¡it¡¯s just¡I don¡¯t want you to go. You¡¯re my best friend and you¡¯ve done so much for me. If it weren¡¯t for you, I¡¯d be dead ten times over now or have gone crazy from the constant horror every night. You¡¯re the only reason I¡¯ve been able to fight as long as I have. If you¡¯re gone then¡then I¡I don¡¯t know.¡±
¡°Jeremy, look at me,¡± Jeremy looks into Mike¡¯s eyes. Mike gazes at his friend with conviction, care, and purpose as he speaks, ¡°You were able to live through everything those fucking robots threw at you for how long? You said I¡¯ve been with you for four months and last I checked, it¡¯s November. You held them off for almost a year, without me. Don¡¯t you dare say that you¡¯re useless without me there.¡±
¡°But¡ª¡±
Mike cut him off, ¡°Heck, you¡¯re the one who figured out it was a trap in the first place. And the one who saw the wires long before my dumbass did. Not to mention everything you do outside of our job. Do I look like the kind of guy who can get his finances together?¡±
Mike shook his head at Jeremy, ¡°Not in the slightest. You can handle yourself, Jeremy. If anything, you¡¯re my reason for fighting as long as I have. So, don¡¯t start putting yourself down over anything. Things will be fine, and I¡¯ll be out of the clink before you know it! So, cheer up!¡± Mike slapped Jeremy on the back and shook him in a friendly gesture.
Jeremy was silent and unsure for a few moments. His mind raced as he tried to think of something to say to argue Mike¡¯s point. But, in the end, he couldn¡¯t. Mike was completely right, as per usual. He couldn¡¯t help but feel slightly resentful of that fact.
Jeremy smiled sadly, wiping the tears from his eyes, ¡°Alright, Mike. But I still don¡¯t know if I can do it.¡± He takes a moment to think, then snaps his fingers, ¡°How about we both promise each other something? I promise to stand on my own two feet while you¡¯re gone, and you promise not to cause too much trouble while you¡¯re in jail?¡±
¡°Jere, what makes you think I¡¯m gonna cause any trouble?¡± Mike feigned being hurt for about two seconds, before letting the fa?ade down and laughing alongside his friend. He composed himself and continued, ¡°Yeah, sure. Sounds great to me. I¡¯ll be the best prisoner they ever had there. Shake on it?¡±
Mike held out his right hand and Jeremy eagerly took it. The two men shook heartily on their shared promises. Their celebration was short-lived, however, as just then the door to Mike¡¯s room opened.
Mr. Fazbear, still in his business suit with a face that showed all the repressed rage he felt, stood right outside the room with two police officers flanking him on either side. Mike and Jeremy separated as they shared a solemn look. The door to the room closed behind the three guests. The policeman on the right stepped forward, ¡°Good morning, gentlemen. My partner and I would like to ask you a few questions.¡±
Mike and Jeremy looked at each other, nodded, and told their story.
Within the halls of the shutdown Pizzeria, Balloon Boy¡¯s body was propped up against one of Party Room One¡¯s walls. Near him was the crumpled, battered, eerily empty, and yellow form of the originator of the entire Freddy Fazbear name.
Fredbear.
The suit was deactivated but seemed to stare at the center of the room with a burning intensity. One need only follow its gaze to understand why.
There, hovering about in the middle of the party room, were the spirits of the ten children. They congregated around the only parts left of their old bodies, their severed heads. Each one held their heads down in silence, the grey streaks running down their faces extremely prominent in the darkness of the room.
They each looked at Fredbear with uncertainty. The first spirit, the first victim, slowly emerged from the golden bear¡¯s body. It floated up to be with its companions as they gazed upon the remains of their old bodies. Before, no matter how much they were damaged, their gifted forms would always be repaired by the next day. They had lost limbs, heads, and even been cut in half. Yet, the bottomless pockets of the Fazbear Entertainment Franchise could fix them up no matter how damaged.
But this¡this time it was too much.
The only thing left of their bodies were the heads.
It was easy enough to replace an arm or reattach that which has been removed. But rebuild nine bodies completely from scratch?
That was where Fazbear¡¯s generosity seemed to end.
It wasn¡¯t long before their shining forms began to dissipate. They each grew more and more intangible by the second. Their bodies weren¡¯t just their way to act upon the world around them, they were their anchors. With their robotic possessions and their bottomless desire for vengeance, they could keep themselves tethered to this reality.
But now, not only were their bodies gone, but their revenge was further away than ever before.
All thanks to Mike Schmidt.
The children, completely removed of any recourse they knew of, huddle together in the middle of the room. The eleven wayward spirits grouped together into a hug as their sobs began to echo throughout the empty building.
They stayed that way for five minutes, doing what they could to comfort each other as their souls started to leave this world.
And then, a voice whispered to them from the darkness.
What a pitiful fate that has befallen you, children.
The spirits all jumped in surprise and fear. The spirits of the Puppet and Golden Freddy looked around the room, herding the rest of the spirits behind them.
You tried so, so, so hard to find your killer, and now look where you are. Beaten by one man you had already broken.
The voice seemed to be all around them. They couldn¡¯t see its body, but they could feel its presence. It chuckled at their panicked states as it kept speaking in its raspy, sonorous tone.
You aware of the reason you lost? It is because of that man. Yes, that one man has inherited an extremely potent power. One I am very familiar with. I can give you the power you need to bring him to his knees.
The voice laughed loudly, this time with his voice concentrated into the Party Room.
That is what you truly desire. I can see it inside of all of you. You want to defeat that man. You want to break him. Destroy him. Humiliate him. Torture him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.
The power to do so can all be yours. All you must do is swear to me. Swear to me that you will OBEY.
It felt like the voice had leaned in on the final word, as if the choice it gave them was more of a suggestion than anything else. The spirits couldn''t help but huddle closer together as the cloying darkness around them seemed to get worse. Then, as soon as it came, it was gone. The voice continued on, acting as if it hadn''t frightened the daylights out of the children.
What say you, little children?
Ordinarily, the kids wouldn¡¯t have listened to the voice.
They had no reason to trust it at all. Half of them said as much to Golden Freddy and The Puppet. It wanted them to obey it, and they had no idea what that might entail. They had been led astray by a stranger¡¯s voice before and who¡¯s to say it won¡¯t happen again. Everything about the situation should¡¯ve made them all say no.
But, they had nowhere else to turn.
This was their only lifeline.
The only way they could stay in this world.
The only way they could finally obtain their vengeance.
It didn¡¯t take much to convince all in attendance of that fact.
All eleven children silently agreed to the deal.
The last thing they heard was the insane cackling of the voice as their vision went black.
The sound of a window opening followed behind Vincent as he jumped through it. In his standard purple uniform, the wiry man chuckled darkly while dashing through the hallways. He moved with practiced ease, his experience from previous ¡°acts¡± guiding his steps. He was careful to not disturb any part of the building that could be traced back to him while staying laser-focused on his task.
It didn¡¯t take him long to find the hidden Safe Room at the back of the Pizzeria. This place wasn¡¯t on any of the building plans nor the camera system. As far as the general public and standard employees were concerned, it didn¡¯t exist. Very few people know it lies within the restaurant, hiding in plain sight of all who pass by. Vincent was one of them and he had used this knowledge to the fullest these past nine months. No one had even raised an eyebrow when he took those gullible little brats back here and gutted them like fish. The looks on the dumbass parents¡¯ faces when they found out their precious children were gone were priceless. And now, with everyone warned away from this place, he could do it all again! The thought made him smile a toothy, unnatural grin.
Vincent covered his mouth with a hand to hold in his laughter as he approached the hidden door to the Safe Room. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out the key to the door. He composed himself and inserted the key into the doorknob.
It was only then that he noticed the tiny flash that passed by his eye.
Then, pain shot throughout his entire body.
He tried to scream but multiple long, thin ropes shot down his throat, muffling his voice. He gagged on the intruding objects, his body shivering as something started to crawl underneath his skin. His eyes scanned the halls around him frantically to find the source of his sudden pain. The employee desperately struggled to escape his bonds but found his body would no longer listen to him.
Just when he thought he would pass out from the pain, Vincent heard footsteps approaching from behind.
He managed to turn his head far enough to see who it was.
His eyes widened in abject terror.
A light, sonorous voice declared, ¡°Finally. We¡¯ve found you. Now, everyone. What shall we do with him?¡±
That night, Vincent entered the closed down Freddy Fazbear¡¯s Pizzeria¡and never came out.
Two Years Later
Mike takes his first step out of the prison in two years. He looks up at the sky with his new ¡°proper¡± clothes on. The pressed, blue button up shirt and brown pants with matching belt felt stifling in the summer sun. He ran a hand through his much shorter black hair, letting the sweat slick it back slightly. His beard had been shaved, leaving his chin completely exposed to the elements. In his other hand he held the straps of a green bag with what little belongings he got once he was out. Some cash, a t-shirt, sweatpants, and worn tennis shoes.
His body was much different than it was when he first entered the facility. His pale skin was tanned by his activities. His muscles were much more defined and could be seen through the tight shirt on his body. They were mainly concentrated on his upper arms and legs, making him look slightly uneven. He cracked his neck while looking down both sides of the road, his ears open for any coming traffic. He sighs and glances at the guard to his left. The prison guard was the picture of what someone of his position should be. He stood tall, both hands behind his back and hat sat straight on his head. He kept one eye on Mike and other on the road heading towards the prison.
Mike scratched his neck thinking back on his ¡°relationships¡± with the guards in the joint. They weren¡¯t very good ones, mainly due him always getting put in solitary for ¡°causing trouble¡±.
What they called trouble, he called defending himself. But give certain guys a fancy shirt and tell ¡®em they¡¯re in charge, and they think they can do whatever they want to you. Out of all the guards he had dealt with while doing time, only two hadn¡¯t gone made with power. Those two were cool and would be the only ones who spoke up for Mike when he was being punished. Made conditions in there a bit more bearable.
The former nightguard arches his back while yawning to keep his body moving. He¡¯s noticed his body has had much more energy ever since he was in the prison. Couldn¡¯t exactly let his guard down at any moment. Just about everyday had him on edge and waiting for the next attack. Not something that¡¯s going to go away overnight.
Just as Mike stopped stretching, the faint sound of a car¡¯s engine reaches his ears. The guard¡¯s head swivels towards the east to stare down the road. Mike does the same, watching as a silverfish car rolled to a stop right in front of them. Like clockwork, the guard stepped in front of Mike and bent down to investigate the car¡¯s driver side window. Before he could say anything, the window rolled down and revealed a young face with a blonde beard and mustache combo.
The guard coughed into his hand before speaking, ¡°Name and proof of identity, please.¡±
The young man handed the guard a license while speaking a much deeper, yet still slightly girlish voice, ¡°Jeremy Fitzgerald.¡±
Mike lifted his eyebrows in surprise, but he refrained from dashing forward to take a closer look at his bud. Wouldn¡¯t want the Boy in Blue here to get the wrong idea and come up with a reason for him to stay longer.
The guard made a show of inspecting the card, constantly looking between it and Jeremy. The man¡¯s blonde hair had lengthened and now reached the base of his neck. He rolled his eyes as the guard finally gave him his license back.
The man turned towards Mike and beckoned him over with a scowl on his face. Mike walked forward as the guard began to speak, ¡°Everything seems to be in order. Remember, you¡¯re on parole, not off the chain. Speak with your officer and make sure you don¡¯t step out of line. Cause if you do¡,¡± he jerks a thumb in the direction of the prison to punctuate his statement.
Mike rolls his eyes while nodding along with whatever the man says. He walks around the front of the car and gets into the passenger side. The second he closes his door, Jeremy hits the gas and takes off down the road.
The two men sit in silence for a long time. Both keep glancing at random things on the road or in their hands as they search for a good conversation starter.
Mike is the one to break the silence, ¡°So¡got a car, huh?¡±
¡°Around last year,¡± Jeremy says while casually turning a curve.
¡°It¡¯s spacious, sounds nice, rides smooth. Didn¡¯t you say you wanted a speedster? Like a Jaguar or something.¡±
¡°Well sometimes priorities change,¡± Jeremy adjust the central mirror slightly, ¡°Got a better job than the old one. Pays a thousand times better.¡±
¡°I¡¯m absolutely positive anywhere paid better than that place.¡±
Both men chuckled at the joke, then lapsed into silence again. Jeremy turned right on an intersection before his spoke, ¡°So, what about you? How was¡you know?¡±
¡°Prison?¡± Mike cut right to the chase, leaning back in his seat, ¡°Bout what you¡¯d expect. Shitty food, shitty people, shitty everything. They¡¯re not exactly nice places to be.¡±
¡°Oh,¡± Jeremy was quiet as he thought about how to approach the subject he was getting at delicately, ¡°Did, uh¡did any of¡ ¡°that¡± happen to¡ª¡±
¡°Hell no,¡± Mike said those two words with a finality, ¡°Like I would let any douchebags do that to me. They tried to, oh they did. Failed every time. Thanks to these two right here.¡±
Mike clenched his hands into fists then kissed his knuckles, ¡°They were some of my only real friends in that joint. Never let me down, not even once.¡±
Jeremy glanced at his friend out of the corner of his right eye, then started to chuckle again, ¡°Looks like you haven¡¯t changed a bit, Mike.¡±
¡°In comparison to you, ¡®Mr. Successful¡¯.¡± Mike points two fingers at Jeremy while winking.
Jeremy shrugs, but smiles too, ¡°It¡¯s nothing special. Just got lucky enough to land a good, stable job at an actual restaurant.¡±
¡°Really?¡± Mike put an elbow near the window while holding up his head with his hand, ¡°You a busboy? No offense, but you kind of have a face that would lead people to think that, Jere. Even with the face fuzz.¡±
¡°You¡¯re close. I started as a busboy. But, unlike our old job¡,¡± Jeremy says while pulling into a driveway. He parked the car, took off his seatbelt, and looked at his friend with a smile full of pride, ¡°This one wasn¡¯t a ¡®dead end¡¯.¡±
Mike got out of the car at the same time his friend did, eyebrow raised in confusion. When he stepped onto the concrete of the driveway, he beheld a sight that made his jaw drop.
Jeremy stepped over to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. It was only now that Mike noticed that Jeremy was as tall as him, ¡°Say hello, to our new home.¡±
Mike could do nothing but stare at the two-story house, covered in windows, lights, and with three, white garage doors staring back at him.
¡°God damn it!¡± Mike falls backwards onto the three-seater sofa in the middle of the living room. He kicks off his shoes and lets them fall to the ground, too frustrated to put them in front of the door. Greyish light seeped through the curtains into the well-lit room. Mike turned onto his side, letting his arm flop onto the glass table a couple of feet in front of the sofa. He looked towards the medium sized TV set up against the wall a couple of feet from the window. The black box silently reflected Mike¡¯s image back towards him.
He had long since replaced his business casual shirt and pants with something that was more his style. A simple red t-shirt with black and gold shorts that covered his thighs. Worked as both everyday clothes and workout clothes. Plus, it made it less obvious how jacked he was now. Bout the only thing he could do in prison was workout, so he had done so with impunity. Had to make sure his muscle didn¡¯t suffer atrophy while he was in the joint.
His beard was coming back, he could feel hints of stubble whenever he rubbed his chin. Same with his hair though at a slower rate. It would take a while get his old hair style back.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
He glanced at the table and picked up a Sports Illustrated magazine. Just as he was about to open it, a knock on the wall caught his ear. He looked up and saw Jeremy standing in the threshold between the kitchen and the living room, a thick book under one arm and a brown box in both hands. On top of the box was a plate of freshly made Pizza Rolls.
Jeremy smiles while walking towards the sofa, ¡°Didn¡¯t get the job?¡±
¡°How could you tell?¡± Mike asked while shifting to let his friend sit down.
Jeremy sat on the center seat and placed the box on the glass table while keeping the book in his lap.
¡°You always reach for the Sports Illustrated when you¡¯re feeling frustrated. Want one?¡± Jeremy indicates the rolls.
¡°Am I really that predictable? And hell yeah I do,¡± Mike instantly grabbed three of the hot rolls and popped one into his mouth. He savored the flavor for a bit before swallowing.
¡°No, it¡¯s just that this is the fifth time you¡¯ve done it after coming home from an interview,¡± grabbing one of the rolls himself, Jeremy moved the plate from the top of the box to the table, ¡°Why did they refuse you this time?¡±
¡°Same reason as the others, though none of them had the balls to admit it,¡± Mike said while swallowing the third of his rolls, ¡°I¡¯m a convicted felon. A criminal. So what if I got out on parole for good behavior, they¡¯re not gonna risk their hide for me.¡±
Mike sighed as Jeremy nodded, ¡°Figures. You know you don¡¯t have to do this, right? I make more than enough money to support two people.¡±
¡°And you know I couldn¡¯t do that Jere. I don¡¯t wanna mooch off you.¡±
¡°You could get a job at my restaurant,¡± Jeremy taps the sofa, ¡°As you can see, they pay pretty well, and I can put in a good word for you.¡±
¡°Thanks, but no thanks man,¡± Mike leans forward while grabbing more Pizza Rolls, ¡°Once they find out I¡¯m a felon, your rep would hit the floor. That and it would make it harder for me to build up a relationship with the rest of the employees. Some felon who only got hired cause the boss pulled some strings? I¡¯d get more than just bad looks.¡±
Jeremy shakes his head, ¡°Mike, you¡¯re not exactly making this easy. After five rejections don¡¯t you think that, I don¡¯t know, you should give it some serious thought? I can take whatever flack my superiors throw at me for it and it¡¯s a safer bet than continually putting in for jobs you know won¡¯t take you.¡±
Mike hangs his head in sympathy, ¡°Sorry, Jere. It¡¯s just¡it¡¯s something that I¡¯ve gotta do on my own. It¡¯s the principle of the matter.¡±
An uneasy silence falls over them both. The rolls sit undisturbed for a few minutes, as if grabbing another would mean restarting the conversation.
Mike reaches out and grabs another roll while sitting up and smiling, ¡°Oh yeah, I met my Parole Officer.¡±
Jeremy looks towards his friend, thankful to have the subject changed, ¡°Really? How are they?¡±
¡°She¡¯s pretty cool. Her name¡¯s Alice. Remembered me from back when I saved that lady. The one being attacked by that creep on our way home? She decided to cut me some slack thanks to that little good deed. Not much mind you, but she won¡¯t be breathing down my neck,¡± Mike places his arms behind his head with a smug smile, ¡°Guess being a hero does have perks.¡±
Jeremy¡¯s expression gets a bit dark, ¡°Actually, that¡¯s what I¡¯ve been meaning to talk to you about. Your powers.¡± Jeremy makes air quotes with his hands when he says powers. He opens up the large book on his lap after moving the rolls off the box on the table.
Mike sits up as Jeremy starts flipping through the pages of the large book. He notices that the edges of the pages have literal flowers painted on them, and the paper changes colors whenever Jeremy gets to a new section or chapter. It starts out whitish with a hint of grey, before shifting to a sky blue with tiny black dots on it. Many of the pages were covered in long walls of text that Mike felt would give him a headache if he read them for any long period of time. Judging by the glossy hardback and pristine condition of the book, it must¡¯ve cost Jeremy a pretty penny.
He stops on a page and holds it up for Mike to see. He points at the top of the page and ask, ¡°What do you see here?¡±
Mike examines what his friend was pointing at, ¡°It¡looks like a sun. There¡¯s a hole in the middle, but yeah it¡¯s the sun.¡±
¡°Right. And below that, it has the word ¡®Dawn¡¯,¡± Jeremy moves his finger to the word, ¡°This is a Caste, a sort of ¡®class¡¯, in this RPG called Exalted.¡±
¡°Huh. Is that what the book you¡¯re holding is? Where¡¯d you get it?¡±
¡°That game store we used to pass by on our way home from work. It¡¯s called Comet and they sold it to me for about eighty dollars.¡±
Mike whistles, ¡°Wow. Never thought I¡¯d see the day you had the cash to burn on something like that.¡±
Mike could swear he sees a hint of pride flash through Jeremy¡¯s eyes, before he continues, ¡°So, what does this have to do with my powers?¡±
¡°If I¡¯m right, everything,¡± Jeremy says as he picks up the remote and turns on the TV. The sound of the News Report comes on as he gets ready to stand.
Suddenly, Mike grabs Jeremy¡¯s hand to stop him from moving. His eyes were wide with slight panic as he pointed at the TV screen, ¡°Dude, are you seeing this?¡±
¡°Seeing what?¡± Jeremy¡¯s brows furrow in confusion, until he sees what Mike is pointing at. Then they open wide in dread.
There, scrolling across the bottom of the screen in bright white text were the words they both hoped they would never hear;
Freddy Fazbear¡¯s Pizzeria: Grand Reopening!
¡°And our Top Story today,¡± the News Anchor spoke with a happy smile, ¡°Freddy Fazbear¡¯s Pizzeria, the popular Pizza joint for children, is having its Grand Reopening tomorrow. The family-oriented restaurant chain, famous for its state-of-the-art animatronics, closed two years ago after an employee destroyed the mascots for unspecified reasons. However, it is finally coming back to entertain children once again. We now take you to our agent in the field Ms. Julia Nanam.¡±
The screen changed to show the same woman that Mike had saved two years ago standing in front of a camera. He¡¯d only met her for a few minutes, but the red hair and green eyes were hard to forget. She stood there with a black jacket, shirt and skirt combo with a genuine smile on her face.
¡°Thanks Tom!¡± she turned to look towards the familiar face of Mr. Fazbear at her left, ¡°I¡¯m here with the owner of the restaurant chain himself, Mr. Fazbear. Tell me, what made you decide to reopen after all this time?¡±
Fazbear hardly looked any different from the way he had two years ago. His mafia-esque suit and pants still gave off a feeling of dread, though it was muddled in the afternoon sunlight. His pudgy body matched his face, the fake smile accentuating his joules as he spoke, ¡°Well, Ms. Nanam, we previously shut down thanks to the horrid vandalization of our beloved animatronics. They were so damaged that we didn¡¯t have the funds to repair them in a timely manner, however last year we had a very generous donation from a benefactor who has requested to remain anonymous. Thanks to them, we were able to not only repair the mascots but give them a complete redesign!¡±
Julia¡¯s eyes widen in surprise, ¡°Really? Can you tell us anything specific about these new designs?¡±
¡°I¡¯m afraid not,¡± Fazbear holds up a finger, ¡°you¡¯ll just have to wait until-¡°
The TV turned off.
Jeremy sets down the remote.
He closes the book and places it on top of the box.
Then he lets himself fall backwards onto the sofa. His body sinks into the leather while a hand goes to his hair. He shakes it while squeezing his head in one hand, ¡°Ho-how could they¡¯ve rebuilt so quickly. I thought it would take them two more years at least.¡±
Mike was just as dumbfounded, but that was drowned out by anger and frustration. He crossed his arms with a sneer on his face, ¡°I¡¯m more concerned about this ¡®benefactor¡¯. After all the shady shit that goes on around that fucking restaurant, who the hell would want to support it by this point? Let alone with enough money to repair and retrofit those fucking bastarding robots!¡±
Mike¡¯s fist hit the table once, causing the plate of rolls to jump. Jeremy caught it just in time to stop them from falling to the floor. He sighed with relief then placed them back down on the glass. He looked at his fuming friend with worry gathering in his stomach. He could feel the same helplessness and fear rising up in his chest again. It was like seeing that place coming back had made his old self resurface. He hated that feeling but seeing that News Report just¡got to him.
And if that¡¯s how he¡¯s feeling, imagine what Mike is-
¡°I know what you¡¯re going to say Jere,¡± Jeremy¡¯s head shot up to look at Mike. Mike¡¯s eyes were staring into his, ¡°And I¡¯m saying it right now; We are not going back to that place. I can¡¯t cause I was convicted for the very thing that closed them down. Fazbear was very clear about me never coming near that restaurant ever again. Besides, if I go back I¡¯ll just fuck something else up for the both of us. You can¡¯t go back cause you have a better job than that place ever was or will be.¡±
¡°Yeah,¡± Jeremy said, straightening his back against the sofa, ¡°but what about the kids or the new nightguard?¡±
Mike smiled, leaning back and placing two hands behind his head, ¡°Don¡¯t need to worry at all. First, those things had no interest in harming the kids. They had plenty of chances to do so and, really, there wasn¡¯t a lot anyone could do to stop ¡®em. No, they wouldn¡¯t hurt the kids now or ever. Second, while I can¡¯t exactly remember what I did, I do know that I broke those sons of bitches good. Even if they are repaired, there¡¯s no way they¡¯ll be the same as when we were there.
He sweeped a hand across the room, ¡°And that¡¯s all there is to it. Really, we¡¯re not needed there anymore, Jere. That place is our past and it¡¯s a shitty one at that. We don¡¯t need to let it define our future.¡±
Jeremy stared at Mike for a few moments. Then he started to chuckle, ¡°And here I thought things were different. Yet, here we are again. You lecturing me and I just sitting here listening.¡±
¡°Hey,¡± Mike patted Jeremy on the back, ¡°things have changed. Wouldn¡¯t you normally be the one telling me to not go back?¡±
Jeremy returned Mike¡¯s gesture, ¡°Guess you¡¯re right. Looks like we¡¯ve both changed a little bit.¡± The two men laughed, the feeling of camaraderie strong between them. The two prepared to relax a bit, as Jeremy got ready to continue reading from the book.
The sound of knocking came from the front of the house.
Both men looked towards the door, then at each other with their eyebrows raised.
¡°You expecting someone?¡± Mike asked while standing up from the sofa.
Jeremy shook his head while getting up as well. He headed towards the door with Mike following behind him. They heard two more knocks against the white door as they reach it. Jeremy squinted his eye as he looked through the peephole at the top.
His eye widened as he saw someone he never thought he¡¯d see again.
¡°Fritz,¡± he whispered as the man beyond the door began to speak.
¡°You there, Jeremy, Mike? I¡¯ve got a job offer for the two of you.¡±
A New Day
Jeremy flipped the last piece of french toast onto the third plate set up on the counter next to him. He carried the three plates of french toast towards the square, brown wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. With graceful movements gained from two years working in a restaurant, he skillfully places the food onto the table in front of Mike with care. He did the same with Fritz, but with a slight forcefulness that made the glass clatter when it hit the table. Fritz stared after Jeremy, who ignored the nervous look on his face. He placed his own plate down at the head of the table before gathering the silverware and doing the same. He went to the fridge, taking out a pitcher of orange juice. He placed it in the middle of the table, before picking up three glass cups in his arms, handing one to Mike and Fritz before placing the last in front of his own chair.
He pulled out one of the four matching wooden chairs, sat down, and waited while looking at Fritz with as neutral a face he could manage.
Fritz chuckled nervously, his eyes darting between the food on the table, Jeremy''s impassive face, and Mike''s death glare from his right. He scratched his orange hair with one hand while the other pulled at the color on his plaid T-Shirt. His blue jeans wrinkled as he shifted in his seat.
Mike let Fritz be uncomfortable for a bit longer, before snorting and leaning back in his chair. He looked the slightly pudgy man in the eyes and said, ¡°So, Fritz. You look well.¡±
¡°Um, thanks,¡± Fritz scratched his reddish, patchwork of a beard with one hand, ¡°Same to you. Have you been working out?¡±
¡°Not much else to do in the pokey,¡± Mike picks up the butter knife and holds it up to his eyes. He waves it around in front of his face while speaking, ¡°You gotta be real diligent every day. Else,¡± Mike swiftly jabbed the knife into the french toast on his plate, making Fritz jump slightly in his seat. Mike laughed, before turning to the plate and beginning to cut into his food.
Calming himself, Fritz turned his attention to Jeremy in hopes that the more level headed man would be easier to talk to, ¡°R-right. Sounds like a pretty rough place, huh Jeremy?¡±
Jeremy shrugged, ¡°I wouldn''t know. I haven''t been there.¡± His eyes never left his plate as he carefully cut the french toast on his plate.
Fritz bit his tongue as he looked down at his own food. Nervousness sits in his stomach like a cyst, preventing him from picking up his fork and knife. Instead, his eyes shift between the two former nightguards at the table. His face continually relaxes then scrunches up again as he tries to find the right words to say. His eyes keep darting all over the room until they landed on the rightmost edge of the table.
With a hopeful grin he gripped his side of the table with both hands, ¡°Wow, this thing is sturdy Jeremy. Custom built?¡±
¡°Nope,¡± Jeremy nonchalantly waved his fork around in the air, ¡°just something I found at a furniture store nearby. It was on sale and looked nice.¡±
¡°Well, maybe you could tell me where it is?¡± Fritz picked up his fork with the grin still on his face, ¡°I could use a new...uh, sofa, yeah a sofa! And it sounds like that place has some good deals.¡±
¡°What do you care about price drops?¡± Mike said while swallowing about half of his food then pouring some orange juice into his cup. He quickly fills it to the top, then chugs it down in one go. He wipes his mouth with a sigh before continuing, ¡°Last I checked, you got promoted at your job. When was that again? Oh yeah, right after my court case!¡±
Fritz''s grin disappeared as quickly as it came. He started to fiddle with the toast on his plate while trying to regain his footing, ¡°C-come on, Mike. Let''s not talk about-¡±
¡°Oh cut the crap, Fritz!¡± Mike slammed his palm against the table, making it shake. Fritz jumped slightly, nearly falling out of his chair at the outburst as Mike kept talking, ¡°We know you didn''t come here on a whim. You came here cause that old Fazfuck told you too! So what the fuck does he want with us!¡±
¡°Whoa, whoa, calm down, Mike!¡± Fritz said regaining his balance while holding his hands out in a placating manner, ¡°I-I just came here because I wanted to see you guys after all these-¡±
¡°Bullshit!¡± Mike hit the table again, ¡°If you actually cared about us, you wouldn''t have sold me out!¡±
¡°W-what was I supposed to do?!¡± Fritz frowned as his anger began to rise, ¡°Mr. Fazbear threatened to take away my job!¡±
¡°Like that''s an excuse!¡±
¡°My mother has lung cancer!¡± Fritz stands up in his chair, ¡°I''m the only one in my family taking care of her! Do you have any idea how expensive her medical bills are?!¡±
¡°You could''ve come to Jeremy,¡± Mike jerked his thumb at his friend, ¡°The guy''s practically rolling in dough now. Do you see this house?¡±
¡°It took him two years to get this. My mom doesn''t have that kind of time!¡±
¡°Actually,¡± Jeremy interrupted while holding up a finger, ¡°It took me one year, six months to get the house. I got the job two weeks after the court case. It took Mike two years to get out of prison.¡±
¡°Told ya!¡± Mike grinned smugly at the furious look on Fritz''s face.
¡°However, he is right Mike,¡± Jeremy sat up straight while his friend looked at him with confusion, ¡°You should try understanding his position. There''s no guarantee that I would''ve been able to get enough money to support his mother while you were in prison. Give him a chance, and calm down, please.¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Mike frowned, stared at Fritz for a bit more, sighing, ¡°Alright, fine.¡±
Fritz sighed in relief, feeling his anger fade as he sat back down, ¡°Thanks, Jeremy. You-¡±
Jeremy held up a hand, ¡°Do not misunderstand, Fritz. I understand why you did what you did, and it tells me that you truly care for your mother. However, it also tells me that you are not someone we can really trust. And we can''t just ignore the fact that, at the end of the day, you did lie to the court and put Mike in a worse situation than before.¡±
Fritz''s relief soon vanished, making way for despair at Jeremy''s words, ¡°But...Jeremy...¡±
¡°No, Fritz,¡± Jeremy let his hand fall to his side, ¡°You''ve long since burned any kind of bridge you could''ve built with us. So, if you don''t mind, say what you came here to say, and leave.¡±
Chastised and fully understanding the situation, sweat dripping down his neck, Fritz swallowed loudly as he tried to form the words. He took a deep breath before speaking, ¡°Mr. Fazbear...is willing to offer you both your jobs back as nightguards at the new Freddy Fazbear''s Pizzeria.¡±
¡°No.¡±
¡°Fuck no.¡±
Fritz held out both his arms in surprise at the simultaneous dismissal from the two, ¡°You didn''t even let me finish.¡±
¡°We don''t need to,¡± Mike sniffs while leaning back in his chair, his plate clean of any crumbs of food, ¡°There''s nothing you can say that can will change our answers.¡±
¡°He''s right, Fritz,¡± Jeremy nodded along with Mike, ¡°Every experience we''ve had with that place has been a terrible one. We want to put it behind us, for good.¡±
¡°Besides, Fazfuck was pretty clear that he never wanted to see me near his restaurant again. Who''s to say that this isn''t an attempt to get me back in the slammer?¡±
¡°But he said he''s willing to drop that,¡± Fritz nodded his head while glancing between the two men, ¡°a-an-and he''s even offering a huge pay raise! Twenty-five dollars per hour. Can you believe that?!¡±
Neither Mike nor Jeremy looked convinced. Fritz abruptly stood up from his chair, making it fall back onto the floor behind him, ¡°Remember your old office? Complete renovation! It''s got doors, shockers, more cameras, there''s actual ventilation and a bunch of other stuff too! Plus..uh...uh...the place just wouldn''t be the same without you two! Come on! Guys?!¡±
They both remain silent.
Fritz is hyperventilating by this point, causing the two friends to show actual concern on their faces. He places both hands on the table, ¡°You guys aren''t making this easy for me. Fazbear needs you back. I don''t know why but....he said he''d cut my paycheck if I couldn''t convince you guys to come back. I...I don''t know how much of my payment I can afford to lose. The hospital keeps calling with bills and, and...you guys have got to help me! Please! Just come back!¡±
By this point, Fritz is kneeling on the ground with his hands clasped together on the table. His body is shaking, his eyes look bloodshot and scared, and the sweat has started to stain his shirt.
Jeremy and Mike looked at each other, a war of emotions warring inside them. Fritz was desperate, more so than they originally thought. Even Mike, who had already closed his heart off, took a moment to consider the implications.
If everything Fritz said was true, then coming back might be just what they needed. Jeremy didn''t have to take the job but Mike certainly needed one. And twenty-five dollars an hour was nothing to scoff at. If at least one of them took it, maybe Mike would be able to move on with his life. Make something of his own, while Jeremy rose through the ranks and become an executive.
It seemed like a good deal.
Too good.
The two friends nodded to each other and turned to Fritz. The tension in the air was high as the current employee looked at his former co-workers. For a moment, he felt a flicker of hope spark in his chest one last time. That the two had heard his pleas and would return to the Pizzeria first thing in the morning.
That hope was dashed as Jeremy replied, with no uncertainty in his voice whatsoever, ¡°I''m sorry, Fritz. But the answer is no.¡±
Jeremy unlocked the front door then pushed it open by the handle. He stepped to the side as Fritz started to walk past him. Fritz stopped right on the threshold of the house, turning to look at Jeremy with puffy eyes.
Jeremy gave him a concerned look, placing a hand on his shoulder, ¡°Once again, I''m truly sorry Fritz. But if you ever need anything, come talk to me. It can be money, a place to stay, or even a new job. I''ll do everything I can to help.¡±
¡°Including returning to the Pizzeria?¡± Fritz forced himself to chuckle at the joke. Jeremy reciprocated, a sad smile on his face. He took a step outside, then turned back, ¡°Sure I can''t change your mind?¡±
Jeremy shook his head. Fritz lowered his head, keeping his gaze at the ground for his entire walk home. Jeremy watched him leave, waiting until the Fazbear employee had turned onto the sidewalk before he closed the door. The blonde sighed as he walked back to the kitchen where Mike was washing the dishes. He came over to help, grabbing up one of the plates and a towel.
The two of them were silent, the only noise between them the squeaking of the plates.
¡°Do you think we were too harsh on him?¡±
¡°Hell no,¡± Mike placed his clean plate on the side right side of the sink before picking up Fritz''s, ¡°That guy threw us under the bus, Jeremy. He''s little more than a filthy, fucking traitor.¡±
The two of them are silence once again, as Jeremy places his plate next to Mike for a second cleaning.
He leans against the counter with one arm, ¡°I understand where you''re coming from, Mike. But he had his mother to think of. Doesn''t that count for something?¡±
Mike didn''t answer, placing a plate down then grabbing up the one Jeremy had set down. He started to scrub it harder than before.
¡°Mike?¡± he didn''t reply to Jeremy, his hands moving faster.
¡°Mike?!¡±
¡°Goddamn it, I don''t know!¡± Mike hit the edge of the sink with his wrist, making the dishes clink together. A hand went to his forehead as grimaced, ¡°I just...I want to be mad at him! I am mad at him! He''s one of the main reasons I got put in the clink. But he did it to protect his mother and....fuck. Just fuck, Jeremy. Just fuck.¡±
Jeremy said nothing. He simply stared at his friend as he cursed out his frustrations. Mike was facing a dilemma there was no easy answer to, and Jeremy couldn''t help. He didn''t have the answer either.
The tension over the conversation was broken by the sound of an alarm coming from Jeremy''s pocket. He pulled out his flip phone, looked at the screen then swore, ¡°It''s 7:30. I''ve got an hour before my shift.¡±
Mike smiled, thankful to have a change in subject, ¡°Time for the daily grind, huh?¡±
¡°You know it,¡± Jeremy smiled back, lightly punching Mike in the arm as he ran off to get his work clothes on. Mike placed down the last plate and started heading towards the door while doing some stretching. Whenever Jeremy went to work, he always ran to the park to get some laps in. It was better than sitting around the house all day.
Just as he was getting his shoes on, Jeremy came down the stairs to the second floor. He had on a white dress shirt, black pants covered by a black apron, and black shoes to complete the outfit. He posed for a moment and asked, ¡°How do I look?¡±
¡°Like someone who works a dead-end job,¡± the two friends laughed at Mike''s joke before heading towards the door at the same time.
They looked each other in the eye, nodded, then went off to start their new lives away from the shadow of Freddy Fazbear.
A Warmup
Mike stopped at the gated entrance to Peterson Park, placing his hands on his hips. He bent to the left and right to work any remaining kinks out of his body before wiping away the small sweat that had started gathering on his brow.
The only sweat on his brow after two hours of running.
Peterson Park was a popular place for fitness nuts like him to go to. The sidewalk looped around the entire park was a good two miles long and had enough steep hills to qualify for an entire routine on its own. Mike would always come here and do at least three laps, one power walking, one jogging, and the last one at a full sprint. The satisfying burn that would result from it was worth the pain his muscles put him through the next day. His body had started getting used to it before he got sent to the slammer, so he figured this would be a good way to get back into the groove of things and work up a sweat.
However, the reality of things was far different. He had just finished his fifth lap, power walking the entire time. And he didn''t feel winded at all.
His red t-shirt didn''t cling to his body from the moisture, his shorts were still as dry as they were this morning, and not a single one of his muscles were crying out in pain from the workload. It felt less like a workout and more like a warm-up. He frowned, turning to the sidewalk path that looped around the park. There were other runners out and they all stared at him with a mixture of awe and jealousy. They were all bent over, hands on their knees and breathing heavily from exhaustion, while he hadn''t broken a sweat doing the exact same exercise.
Mike kept his head down while starting to jog in place. He turned towards the entrance gate and ran back into the city. He put just a little more speed to it than usual to outpace anyone who might follow him. The last thing he needed was people asking why he was the only one not even slightly winded from the workout. And if these people were as obsessed with keeping fit as he was, then they certainly would start asking.
Which, at any other time, he wouldn''t mind.
Now? He just didn''t have the answers.
Once he was far enough away, he lifted his head up with a thankful sigh. His smile turned into a grimace as he observed the neighborhood he had entered. The crumbling apartments, the warped concrete in the roads, cans that rolled along the side of the street, and chain link fences set up around basketball courts revealed the everything you needed to know about the area. The people who roamed the street didn''t help either. Torn, saggy clothes, walking with their heads hanging down, and the occasional homeless person or drug addict passed out on the side of the street.
Mike shook his head at the poor living conditions as he rounded the corner of a building. He had to slow down to make sure he didn''t step on any of the refuse or piles of garbage. He ignored the putrid smell coming from the whole area, having smelled worse while he was doing time. He runs into quite a few people who try to intimidate him, but a simple confident sneer is enough to scare them off.
Mike''s eyes filled with pity at the sight before him. Many of these people probably got here through no fault of their own. Maybe they had a bad week that spiraled into their financial ruin, maybe they got laid off too many times at work, or maybe they did choose this for themselves. Whatever the reason, he can''t imagine this was how they wanted to live out the rest of their lives.
Then again, what could he really do to help them?
¡°Plenty,¡± he was surprised at the voice that came out of his mouth. However, he didn''t say anything to take it back. He just...felt like it was right. Like there was plenty he could do to help these people. But then...what-
The nearby sound of laughter makes him slow his pace. He stops at one of the many alleyways, peering through the gaps in the chain link fence that separates it from the sidewalk.
What he sees makes him frown in anger.
In the middle of the alley, hiding beneath the shadow of a large, green garbage can, were five teens. They were squatting near the ground in a semi-circle, attire almost completely identical to each other. Grey hoodies with matching sweatpants. Except for two of them, who were obviously women. They wore small leather jackets with jean shorts, not even trying to show one hint of modesty in with their bodies.
The alley itself was of the typical variety. The space inbetween two large brick buildings that was big enough for five people to fit in, if they stood side by side. A favored hangout for anyone wanting to keep out of public line of sight. Four green grabage cans sat against the walls, their contents spilling out onto the concrete floor. Hardly any sunlight managed to illuminate the alove, covering it in darkness that would hide most actions to cursory glances. There were only two entrances/exits; the one on Mike''s side, blocked by a chainlink fence, and the one on the side opposite to him that led into the streets.
They all had their eyes focused on the inside of their circle, where a mangy, limping cat circled an equally injured dog. The two animals kept hissing and growling at each other, while the teens whooped and prodded them with sticks taken from the ground. He saw coins and crumpled up dollars exchange hands as they bet on what the outcome would be.
He inwardly groaned at the sight. Bunch of kids with nothing better to do than be cruel to some animals just minding their own business. Why is it that boredom mixed with youthful stupidity always led to things like this? Though, he supposes he can''t complain too much. He did stupid things when he was young too because he was bored.
But this? He''d never stoop this low just to get a laugh. This was disgusting.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.He felt his hands curl into fists as he watched the cat get prodded into taking a swipe at the dog. The dog flinched back, its left eye taking a deep scratch wound. The crowd went wild at the sight of blood, calling for more carnage in various languages. His right hand shot up, grabbing the chains. His gripped tightened on it for a few seconds but he did not move.
Mike felt the overwhelming need to jump over the fence in front of him, walk over to the kids, and give them a little lesson in discipline. He felt like jumping in and rescuing those animals, taking them to a vet, then getting them a proper home.
But...
He sighed, forced his hand to let go, then turned back towards the sidewalk.
He couldn''t fight the teens. He was on parole. If the police caught him making trouble, then it''s right back in the slammer for him. And he had no doubt at least one of the teens would be quick to call the cops, then lie to them about what happened. Then Mike''s ass would be grass.
As much as he wanted to help, he had to ignore it.
He turned his gaze towards his feet, as he started his jog back. He would just keep going until the end of the neighborhood, then he''d start heading back home.
He hadn''t even gone one step, before the heard a high pitched voice come from the alleyway, ¡°Hey! You guys! Leave those poor things alone!¡±
Mike stopped in place, mentally groaned, and walked backward until he was standing in front of the fence again. The teens'' heads were all focused on the other end of the alleyway, forcing Mike to squint to see what they were looking at. Through the darkness, he could just make out the thin outline of a girl standing among the refuse on the ground. She couldn''t have been more than sixteen years old, yet here she was trying to stand up to five thugs in a dark alleyway.
''Girl after my own heart,'' Mike chuckled while shaking his head. He couldn''t deny her guts, and it wasn''t like he hadn''t picked plenty of fights he stood no chance of winning. It didn''t matter if he got beat up, as long as he stood his ground and gave as good as he got.
Unfortunately, judging by the glints in the eyes of some of the teens, they were planning to do more than a simple beat down. The cat and dog saw their opportunity, both dashing towards the end of the alley where the girl was. Mike watches them scamper past her into the wider city beyond, hoping to god they don''t end up getting run over by a car.
The punks start whistling as they form a half circle around the girl. Three of them are already behind her to cut off any attempt at escape, while the toughest looking one is trying to intimidate her. To her credit, she doesn''t give them a single inch, staring their leader in the eyes with as much indignation as she could muster.
Under normal circumstances, Mike would be cheering her on, yelling tips on how to fight multiple opponents at once. She wouldn''t win, but she''d give them enough trouble that they''d probably back off rather than do anything worse to her.
Right now though...
¡°Come on kid,¡± Mike mumbled, not noticing his hands gripping the fence, ¡°get outta there.¡±
It''s when the leader raises his hand towards her face that he finally acts.
Mike is on the other side of the fence faster than the eye can track, landing on the other side with his knees bent to absorb the shock. He sighs, places his hands in his pockets, then starts leisurely walking towards the punks. Just as the girl slaps the leader''s hand away, Mike belts out a loud whistle. It''s high pitch echoes off the walls of the alleyway, gaining the attention of the six people at the other end.
¡°What do we have here?¡± he smiled as the five teens began to turn towards him, ¡°Didn''t your mothers teach that nobody likes a bunch of bullies?¡±
Mike''s mind is already racing as the leader points towards the two guys to come with him, while the girls move to block the exit. The three of them start to walk towards Mike, fanning out to his sides to limit his movement and block any escape. Meanwhile, Mike is thinking about how he''s going to handle this. He knew he could take them all down without breaking a sweat. The problem was if his actions got out to the police. If anyone of these assholes called the cops afterward, Mike would be up shit''s creek.
Of course, that''s only if Mike swung first.
But if they swung first, then he could plead Self-Defense in court. It wouldn''t absolve him of all wrongdoing, but it would mean he wouldn''t be violating parole.
Now all he had to do was push the right buttons.
¡°You look lost, ese,¡± the leader, his skin tanned from standing out in the sun so much, said with a heavy Spanish accent, ¡°Must''ve made a wrong turn somewhere.¡±
Mike chuckled, ¡°Really? ''Ese''? Someone''s been watching too many movies. Who the hell says that to people they''re trying to mug?¡±
The leader''s eye twitched, as he started to laugh out loud. He turned to his two men, ¡°This man thinks he''s funny? Doesn''t he?¡±
A clicking sound, followed by a clash of light revealed the concealed, serrated knife in the leader''s palm. He held it up to Mike''s neck while audibly licking his teeth, ¡°Do you think this is a funny man? Do you?¡±
¡°Yeah, I do,¡± Mike lifted up a finger and pushed the knife away from his neck, ¡°It''s funny how you think you can scare me. I''ve seen foxes scarier than you. So why don''t you drop the act and kick rocks before I get angry.¡±
To seal the deal, Mike spat in the man''s eye.
That did it.
The man yelled a curse, as he brought his fist up towards Mike''s chest. But his movements were slow. So slow that Mike knew he could easily sidestep the blow. His main focus was on the two douchebags closing in on his left and right. He could drop to the ground, sweep their feet out from under them, then kick the one with the knife in the groin. But that would-
They heard a girlish shriek, followed by two bodies hitting the ground.
They all turned to look at the exit and saw a newcomer straddling one of the female thugs on the ground. She tried to claw his eyes out, but he simply slammed his fist into her temple until the stopped struggling.
By the time the other female thug had gotten over her shock, the newcomer had turned his attention towards her. She sneered, pulled a knife, and tried to charge at him. Before she could take a step, the girl Mike had come to save jumped her. The younger girl started clawing at the thug''s eyes, making the older woman scream in pain as the newcomer advanced upon her.
Not wanting to waste the opportunity, Mike dashed towards the opponent on his left. He stomped on the guy''s foot then delivered a palm strike to his open jaw when he tried to scream in pain. He followed it up with three rapid punches to the kidneys. As the man bent over in pain, mike grabbed him by his face. With a grunt, he slammed the punk''s head into the brick wall of the building.
As he felt the body go limp in his hand, he immediately ducked while kicking out with his leg. The other minion tripped and fall forward, cracking his skull on the pavement. Mike watched the teen''s eyes roll into the back of his head. Only then did he stand up and turn to face the-
He felt something prick against his side. He looked down to see the leader, his mouth agape in terror. His knife''s blade had bent from being pushed towards Mike''s flesh.
Mike watched the thug begin to back away in terror, mumbling nonsense as he slowly advanced upon him. Mike smiled while cracking the knuckles on his right hand. As he advanced, his eyes shifted from the thug to the man stepping up behind him. His smiled turned sinister as the newcomer grabbed the thug by his shoulder. Before his foe could realize what was happening, Mike brought his fist back and slammed it into the man''s face.
He went out like a light.