◢ Random Scenarios from the darkest pits of hEck 〈 2023 〉 ◣

ᘛ Fame and misfortune ( unfinished ) ᘚ

So, with all that as his defense, Freddy had been quiet for those four days. He fell mute like no other, even inching away from children who wanted more than just a little hug. Chica had to take over for most of his stage shows, as he himself was disabled from pouring his heart and soul in the act. His outgoing, genial persona ebbed away with the news of Bonnie's decommissioning in that short period, leaving just a numb, empty husk.

Freddy's blue oculars remained persistent in that indifferent stare, watching old reminiscents play about like a flash film. His ears picked nothing but a melancholic symphony, riddled with phantom echoes of laughter and exhilaration, both of his own, and that of whom there was no trace.

The bear's hands lay dormant on his lap, drained by dejection, unwilling to move just like the rest of him. Life was squeezed out from even the tips of his fingers, robbing them of even the merest twitch. Worst off, the male felt foreign in the boundaries of his own room. Most of his major thoughts were shut off, and he recognized none of the priceless items he possessed, or .. he didn't want to.

Time was frozen for Freddy. He wouldn't know how long he was sitting idle, ill-treated by the treacherous claws of fate. The clock ticked, seconds, minutes, hours ... all passed right before his eyes, yet he was blind to it all, unable to see the fast pacing of that malicious train of numbers.

Freddy had never once been too robotic; none of them were. They were all built with adaptivity to human behavior, and up till four days ago, he was following that program; learning from those around him. The last quadlet of days was the first in his life that Glamrock Freddy was more machine than an animated toon brought to reality. He was less expressive. Suddenly, his voice, his eyes, everything had observed a decline in zeal and zest. He began to solely work because he had to work; no energy in it. He'd sit like this every night afterward, waiting for time to pass like a car without ignition, and then stroll off to his stage like a zombie the minute the first waking hour chimed, then perform. Same routine, every day.

Gradually, people began to notice a pattern. Freddy was the star attraction, and for three out of four days the bear was out of order; Chica taking his place as mentioned before. It was aggravating for some, as they came to experience joy, to witness the animatronic bear and his band performing for their little, entertainment-craving brains. Nobody could blame them for that. Weeks of hard work asks for some reward, after all. It's just devastating Freddy was taking it away from them because the machine was .. depressed.

⠀

Who could understand that they weren't normal machines?

⠀

Fazbear Entertainment doesn't care.

⠀

The people don't.

⠀

Tonight was the first time his antics bugged the Management. He'd refused to spend an hour with a birthday kid, outright announcing his decision to one of the guards, leaving them stumped. He was surprised by the outburst himself, but he had no power in him to question : Why did he do it?

Several hours after closing time, when the night security staff began settling in to look after the building for the next six to eight hours, Freddy heard a loud knock from the door reserved for the employees. Finally, that was the one sound that caused him to shift his head, eyes averting to glance towards the big steel door, the security lock on it flickering a green light as someone unlocked it from the other side, before the door lifted with a mechanical hum and clatter, and in came ... him.

⠀⠀

Mr. Evans. The Manager. A couple other guards followed close behind him, all fixated on the ursine seated on his black and red, leather chair. Something within him sparked an eerie sense of dread with this approach, elevating when Evans strolled nearer, and ordered him to stand.