Siren Song (Yandere Freddy X Blind Reader)

Part One

You wanted to learn to sing, and you wanted Freddy to be the one to teach you. You hoped the others weren't upset with you.

He started simple, with Bonnie's help, teaching you to use your voice to match notes, little songs that were easy to learn, and even offering to let you use his microphone when he said you were good enough for others to hear.

Let you use his own microphone! The employees freaked out if any other kid attempted to touch it, and here he was putting it in your hands! But you were far too shy, telling him you didn't want your squeaky little girl voice to fill his pizzeria and break everyone's eardrums. So he chuckled and kept teaching you until you surpassed what his voice box allowed.

You stunned him, as he heard your voice learning fast. The bear knew you didn't need him any longer, trying to insist you sing with Bonnie to learn more songs, but you begged him not to leave. Robotic or not, the pleas stuck to him, and he was more than happy to just spend time with you.

Your brother was always wary. He'd heard rumors, and later on actual stories from the other night guards. The animatronics had glitchy, dangerous night modes that activated at midnight, so he would make certain the two of you were gone long before then.

*****

As time went on, you attended an academy that was tailored to those with disabilities. You admitted that you were struggling to learn to read with your fingertips instead of your useless eyes, but the teachers were wonderfully patient. It was still slow going, and your brother would often catch you on the verge of tears, trying to read a single sentence.

He still worked at the pizzeria when you turned fifteen, though by now he basically ran the entire restaurant alongside the owner. It was slowly starting to gain revenue, though not enough for any major renovations to be done... so the place looked nearly the same for a long time. The mascots certainly did, anyway.

No one could deny they were unique, night mode or not. But your brother was suspicious. Though you were a teenager now (he in his mid-twenties), and you had good, close friends, you still insisted on going with him to work at least a few times a week. And they remembered you.

Older versions had facial recognition, he remembered that much from when he was young. Did these carry the same systems? Visually, they were more bulky and old-fashioned, but their computer systems must have been ages ahead of their time. How else would they speak to you like you were the fifth of the group?

And then there were still the rumors. The owner had to hush that sort of talk within the walls of the pizzeria, but outside they were free to blaze on like unruly wildfires. Your brother didn't want you around when midnight hit. No way in hell.

*****

They watched you grow, while they slowly shifted from animatronics to something closer to friends. They swore they couldn't forget you, and honestly, there weren't any other employees with a blind little sister. But their attention still felt more personal. They were like family that filled in the spaces you were missing in your life. Sure, you had normal friends, but you liked it here. You maybe wanted kids of your own someday, and be able to bring them here, as well.

You kept on singing. Your teachers praised your voice, wondering who had given you lessons. All you could do was smile shyly and thank them; they'd never believe an old animatronic had taught you.

One day, after a surprisingly slow Sunday night, you were in the kitchen with your brother. The two of you were busy belting out something from his car radio, your voices carrying down the hallways. A few remaining employees either joined in or simply smiled and shook their heads.

Your brother couldn't hold a tune to save his life, and you liked to tell him that he should probably get one of the spare voice boxes. But his enthusiasm was contagious, so he sang loudly and horribly to amuse you.

After hours, neither of you could see the animatronics either laughing under their breath or even singing along softly. Freddy just remained silent for the most part, he was more interested in listening. He didn't much care for your brother's obnoxious failure to hold a note, but it was your high, clear voice he liked to hear. His eyelids closed, he managed to tune out everything but you, and his machinery would give a little kick-start each time you started a new song.

One night, you were in a particularly depressed mood; you'd hoped coming to the pizzeria would cheer you up, but you had the impression that everyone there was avoiding you. Was there a look on your face you weren't aware of, that screamed "stay away from me"? Because that was the last thing you wanted that night.

Still, you helped your sibling, staying quiet. He was worried but knew that girls your age went through some horrible chemical imbalances, and he was prepared to either help you at a moment's notice or get the hell away.

He kept his mouth shut that night, keeping an eye on you while you, very slowly and carefully, washed dishes. No cutlery, of course, but everything else seemed fine. Out of habit, you began to sing to cut through the heavy silence. Your moodiness wouldn't allow for anything less than some sombre, heart wrenching song, which you sang slowly. It didn't much help that you felt the need to cry, but you kept on singing, voice thick and cracking all the while.

The animatronics, unseen from the kitchen, stayed silent. Foxy poked his head out from behind his curtain, his expression as worried as his robot fox face would manage. Bonnie lowered his guitar, and sat on the edge of the stage, Chica doing the same, wringing her hands together.

Freddy, on the other hand, felt himself getting pulled in. He slowly made his way down the steps, approaching the kitchen, where there was an open window to push the pizzas and other foods through. He peered through, seeing your head down at the sink, doing your task on auto-pilot. Damn it all, why couldn't he just walk inside and take you out of the kitchen, sitting you in his lap like he used to? What was stopping him?

Bonnie, for one. The bunny had a hand on the bear's shoulder, shaking his head. 'Freddy, you can't. Don't even try.'

The leader's eyes only looked down a little. 'Someone has to.' The words were unspoken but understood nonetheless; computers could, after all, communicate silently.

'It's in our programming, I understand, but Freddy... She's older. It won't do any good. I don't even know why she still comes here.'

Eyes narrowed, the bear only repeated, 'Someone has to'.

Bonnie's hand fell away. 'I know what you're trying to do, and I'm telling you now... don't. You'll scare her. We're lucky she still comes here at all, so don't ruin that by trying to play the hero or something stupid.'

Freddy knew what was meant by "something stupid", but he couldn't help it. They all knew you favored the bear, and while they didn't hold a grudge or anything, the bear in question was getting too involved. He could comfort you, properly, once midnight chimed, if only your brother wasn't such a coward.

He looked back at you through the little window again. You, of course, couldn't see him, but still felt a presence there. It radiated a feeling of peace, and you smiled a little, tiny bit. Did they really think their footsteps were quiet? They were heavy robots! You were taught to listen, and you did it well. "Freddy, go back to the stage, I'll be okay. I'm just moody."

Both Freddy and your brother stared at you alarmingly. Looking through the window himself, your sibling slapped his forehead. "Holy shit, are you serious? You still walk around? I know you're programmed to go where the people are, but... ugh. Why am I yelling at this thing?"

Oh, Freddy didn't like that at all.