Another Five Nights

Memory Log #4

[Third Person POV]

Music box, mask, flash... Music box, mask, flash... Music box, mask, flash...

It was a continuous cycle that Jeremy had placed himself into. If he kept it up, he wouldn't be bear chow. Well, robot bear chow. If he was attacked by a real bear, at least that would've been a perfectly believable and awesome story, but an animatronic at a kids' establishment? Hah. Who's gonna believe that?

Well, no one, apparently, except for the guy who worked there before him, AKA the current day-guard. What was his name again? Dave something? Eh. It didn't concern Jeremy's current predicament. All that mattered is that this was his last night! Phone Guy (that's what he calls the man giving him advice over the phone) assured him that he'd get the day shift from next week. Yippee!

He just has to hold out a bit longer, continue his cycle.
Music box, mask, flash... Music box, mask, flash... Music box, mask...

DONG DONG DONG DONG.....

The sound of the pre-recorded bells and the cheerful shrieks of children lifted a gargantuan weight off Jeremy's chest. Yes! Yes, yes YES!! He was finally free from this nightmare! Screw that mask, screw the dang music box, he was out of here!

He did a little victory dance before straightening himself up, and leaving the building all smiles. Freedom, here I come!

Normally, he would try to contain his excitement; you know, show some decency. But oh, not today. Nope, Jeremy was skipping through those streets whether people stared or not. And who could blame him? His life wasn't in danger anymore!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First day on the job as a day-guard. Nothing strange so far. Jeremy was pretty pleased with this change of pace. Sure, the place was a lot noisier, and some kid threw a pizza at his face at some point, but like, it's way, way better than "music box, mask, flash". Like, c'mon! Who wants to keep doing that for the rest of his life? Not Jeremy, that's for su--

"Oof--"

"Oh, oh I'm... I'm so sorry, sir! I-- Jeremy!?"

Jeremy took a moment to take in the features of the British-accented person who just bumped into him. Tall, awfully pale, chiseled chin, light brown hair, blue eyes and wearing a grey hoodie with the hood down. He'd recognize him anywhere.

"Michael! Good to see you, buddy!"

Michael grinned and gave him a hi-five.

Jeremy and Michael weren't exactly very close, but they still liked each other; enough to hi-five each other in the school hallways and attempt small talk once in a while. People found it strange that Jeremy, who was in his senior year, was willing to keep friendly relations with a sophomore who was known to have done some awful things back in '83, but Jeremy didn't care. Michael was nice enough, and that's all that mattered. If anything, he felt bad for the poor guy. He's been through a lot. The least he could do is be nice.

"You never told me you worked here?" Michael said.

"Well, you never asked."

"Fair point," he said, nodding.

There was an awkward silence for a moment. Jeremy tried to break the ice.

"So... uh, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, nothing much. Father asked me to come here and, well, 'keep an eye on things', whatever that's supposed to mean."

"Does your dad own this place too?"

"No. Uncle Henry does, though, but he seems to be having some trouble? Father wants to help, I guess."

"You 'guess'?"

"Really, I don't know why he sent me here. That's my best bet. Although, he hasn't been very fond of Uncle Henry recently, so..."

"Are they working separately now?"

"Well- um... no. They're still working together from what I know, though they might be planning to separate. This pizzeria is, like, part one of that."

Everything that Michael said made sense and didn't at the same time. In order to prevent himself from killing his braincells, Jeremy decided to change the topic.

When their conversation started losing steam, Michael decided that he might as well order a pizza while he was there. Jeremy continued to stare at the happenings of the pizzeria listlessly.

A sudden shriek caught his attention. It seemed to come from Kids' Cove. He was about to run in the direction of the noise, but he found out he didn't have to. Kids and parents came running out of the room, a rogue Mangle at their heels.

The Mangle was basically Foxy, but white instead of red, lacking pirate-themed accessories, and wearing lipstick. Well, that's what he would have been, if the kids didn't rip her apart every time he showed up in Kids' Cove. Since then, she's become a pick-apart-and-put-back-together attraction. And the kids used a lot of imagination while redesigning him. She now looks like a Siamese endoskeleton, one head a regular endo, the other a fox.
A fox with very, very sharp teeth.

The Mangle charged through the room, glaring at every adult in sight. Parents ran out, holding their kids in their arms. Panicked screams and shrieks filled the room.

And then, The Mangle was staring at Jeremy.

Jeremy was already trying to make a run for it. He didn't have a mask to help him this time; only his legs. Unfortunately, The Mangle was faster on his three legs than Jeremy would ever be on two, and before anyone knew it, she had Jeremy pinned to the ground.

He snapped his metallic  jaws, dangerously close to Jeremy's face. Jeremy held them open, forcing her head away from himself. Sweat ran down his face as he cried for help, fighting the animatronic the best he could. Dear Lord, The Mangle smelled awful! Like... like a corpse or something! And then there was the black ooze trickling down the robot's mouth and onto Jeremy's face like saliva.

Jeremy cried out one more time, tears of fear stinging his eyes.

"HELP ME, PLEASE! SOMEONE HELP!"

"HOLD ON! I-- I'M GETTING HELP!"

That British accent... Michael! The response eased Jeremy's nerves just a little, but his arms were starting to tire, while the animatronic seemed as lively as ever. Just hold out a bit longer, Fitzgerald! C'mon now!

A pained, earth-shattering scream silenced the ruckus within the pizzeria. Help didn't arrive soon enough. Jeremy couldn't hold him anymore. Now, he was lying in a pool of blood, and The Mangle shuffled away with a chunk of his brain in her mouth.

"But then there was The Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?"

Amazing indeed. Jeremy should have shown total paralysis and brain death, but he was walking around after a couple of months. Sure, he wasn't exactly right in the head. He got distracted easily, had low impulse control and weak motor coordination, but even then, the symptoms weren't as severe as expected. It was a miracle that he was remnant! A true miracle indeed.