*Cling*
Looking up, Jeremy saw the man of the hour. Mike Schmidt, the security guard from that expo. The one who gave him the tapes in the first place.
"Ah, there you are," Mike spoke a bit. "Guess you listened to them tapes?"
"Yeah..."
"Yeah...I'm just gonna' get a latte, you want anything?"
"Already have something," Jeremy lifted up the frappe he had bought earlier. It was still pretty close to full given how quickly the older adult showed up after ordering.
"Ah...okay then. I'll just..." Mike brushed it off, heading to the register.
It did become rather apparent that he was as uneasy as Jeremy was. He taken a better look at the man, still pretty big in terms of height and size. It did remind him a little of a pasty version of the Rock if he squinted a bit. Although that might be too much of a compliment, given he was sporting a gut.
The aspects of this meeting did little to mask the truth, the core of this chat. A subject that neither truly wanted to discuss. Yet it did present itself. Afton clearly was involved no doubt. His name seemed to always pop up since the trip began.
Enough of the coffee shop was empty now. Thankfully this particular store wasn't as popular considering the amount of this specific brand plastered every block.
"Okay...what did you want?" Jeremy uttered.
"Right to it huh? I was hoping for some bad jokes," Mike stiffened a bit at how easily the teen wanted to discuss such a subject.
"I'm not good at jokes," He sipped the last bit of his frappe. "It's about those tapes, right? Which one do you want to start with?"
"Heh, really into the fryer, eh? Alright alright...you listened to the one about those spring-lock suits?" Jeremy nodded to that question. Odd that he'd lead with that topic, given the other ones he clearly listened to.
The sound of his drink catching nothing but air led Jeremy to push the empty cup aside.
"...I'm not exactly proud of what I'm going to tell you...hell, I'm technically breaking an NDA..." Made sense that Fazbear Entertainment would use NDAs. An easy way to silence people if you know there is a chance of problems. "Those spring-locks...I designed them,"
"You...you're a security guard?"
"Yeah, but that's more of a demotion than anything. I was just a grunt, some new guy from Waco joining in a fancy new job at the right time in the right place. Doodling shit in my sketchbook hoping for a big break. One idea I had was animatronic suit hybrids. That Afton guy...he looked at it and was impressed. Hell, impressed enough to assign me to an engineer position to produce those designs,"
"You really built those things...people died in them, did they?" His face fell at that question.
"...kid, I knew after looking at my scribbles that it was death trap. Mr. Afton keeps reassuring though, 'Let my people work out the kinks', 'Being bold is how science is done', the whole stroking my young ego, that sort of thing," Biting at his thumbnail, the next part wasn't one that Jeremy felt that Mike was close to ready to saying.
Yet despite that hesitation and nervousness as he rocked from sitting up straight to hunching onto the table, the teen had a feeling that there was more he was going to say.
"Two were made based on the old mascots...two yellow ones based on the old Fredbear's before the whole company merger, made for an anniversary...two employees I knew, Fritz and Susie...they were crushed to death..." Tears were forming, quickly wiped away before they could escape. "...Afton fucking backstabbed me, said it was on me for not getting it checked for safety. Blamed me to corporate. How I even got a job as a security guard, it's the only blessing I got,"
That took some time to unravel. Strange. Jeremy both was relieved by his honesty...and also puzzled. Of all the things that could happen, meeting somebody like Mike Schmidt was fortunate for this investigation to succeed. Yet, how is that possible?
Jeremy's mind stirred at the mere coincidence. An employee like this simply being at the expo...the stars were aligned a little too straight for this to be a simple stroke of luck. None of it felt like a random chance. Not something fate would naturally just head toward.
"If...if, he was doing all of this for that Frankenstein shit in the other tapes, I wanna' find out how to throw him in a cell for the rest of his life," Mike grunted, his sadness turning into anger.
Jeremy could only watch in some sick sense of awe at the man's tale. How much did he suffer like him? Holding onto this for who knows how many years. It was like watching the future itself speak to him; a man who was left broken and only allowing to express it in a mirror.
Fritz and Susie? More victims, Jeremy thought to himself.
There was a definite pattern here. A clear sense of insensitive and vile behavior from the man behind the creatures that populate this venues. His services basically allowing him to do as he pleases. Swept under the rug.
Slinking out of the aisle, the blonde found himself cradling the older man. This was unusual. He never really had a sense to this, for what in reality was a stranger telling stories. He never once tried to understand pain. Perhaps seeing Cassidy becoming jaded from this opportunity made him act on emotion.
Jeremy could feel the hug reciprocated. It was clearly stronger than anything he could have accomplished with his lanky frame, yet he endured the crushing sensation of a grown bear.
Now kinship was one thing. But there was the issue of Cassidy and George simply throwing themselves at the problem just across the street from their hotel.
"...Mike...I think I understand. Afton...one of his machines killed my friend. He killed my friend..." Jeremy choked up a bit. There was a growing fire that was building up, this event just kindling to that feeling.
For years he never truly expressed anger. Only a deep depression. A fear of those connected to that one terrible day. Yet despite the fantastical nature of this scenario, there was one glimpse of truth. There was a killer. A liar. A manipulator. And he was enjoying the high life, getting exactly what he desires. Whatever those twisted desires even were.
Did hearing Mike's story stir something? Was he beginning to believe too quickly the word of another man? Perhaps, but Jeremy couldn't think in that way. Not right now.
"I...damn...Jeremy right? Jesus, you are in the same boat, huh? You and those other two?" Mike says.
"Cassidy and George. Cassidy was another friend. And George was the dad, of Elizabeth...that was her name," Jeremy says.
"Heh...that's, *sniff* that's a nice name," He released his grip on the poor teen.
"I know," Jeremy chuckled a bit. The thought didn't really make him cry as much. Not as much as it used to.
Those tears were spent enough already.
***
It didn't take long for both to consider the options and discuss their next move. Obviously there was the issue of actually convicting Afton. All of it wasn't exactly watertight, especially with the pretext of supernatural manipulation. These tapes would lead to questions of authenticity, there was the NDA issue, the fact that the facility was officially abandoned.
The whole thing was rather new to Jeremy. Yet thankfully Mike had a better idea. To get corporate involved. If anything was obvious, it was the plain disregard for human safety that Fazbear Entertainment had pulled off for years. Have the prospect of something like this, they'd immediately back off from funding Afton. And a penniless Afton will have him make mistakes; it would take just one slip up to cause the house of cards to crash down.
Now there was the issue of what exactly to show the Fazbear people. After all, these tapes are still dubious. Then again, if by itself not very convincing of anything supernatural, it shows that Afton is mad. And that is enough of a PR nightmare to warrant cutting off ties. Yes.
It would be the best course of action at least. The NDA specifically only makes Michael unable to disclose the actual methods used for those spring locks. But Jeremy isn't an employee. And it isn't just those metal death traps either.
He had already given the go ahead for Michael to start looking into hotlines and other means of contacting the office workers, the ones that would matter. Luckily there was his trusty Nokia that Jeremy could always fall back on; exchanging numbers was simple.
"Ok...if I call this number. I could stop him...I could stop him," Jeremy mumbled to himself.
The boy already was outside his hotel room, ready for the next part of their mutual plan. Mutual. Stopping as he reached for the door knob, he thought about the time. On the screen of his flip phone, he could see it was already 9 pm.
Cassidy and George. They barely spoke about the situation. He could only watch as they returned to quickly gather lunch, Cass stuffing herself with sub sandwiches before disappearing back to the expo. That was hours ago.
Quickly he tapped the buttons of the phone to check on any prior texts he might have missed. So far a few from 5 pm and 6 pm. Cass was joking about dinner being pizza, seeing it as ironic that she was thinking of that while in a Fazbear owned expo.
And nothing. There was nothing there. The last text being of a question if she should add pineapple to hers.
"Dammit, Cass...did they...?" Shaking his head, he continued on. "No. No, George is with her...that's good right? That's good,"
Entering his room, Jeremy felt a sense of dread crushing him again. In his mind, thinking it through, George had been incredibly irresponsible and passive. The little field trip that Cassidy took backstage. This insistence on letting Cassidy take the risk to go back.
Sitting on the bed, clutching the phone as if it were going to ring. Send a message. Do anything to quell this turmoil. Nothing. Every minute was a jab into his mind. A possible sign of...
Don't think like that, Jeremy groaned internally. He lay the phone on the bed beside him.
"Why couldn't they stick around for one second..." Jeremy sighed. Part of him felt like he should have been more forceful with Cassidy. Perhaps she would have learned of the Mike Schmidt involvement.
Instead he found himself alone in the room. With some half hearted moves, he simply turned on the TV. Again, most of these channels were pointless. All surfing back to that dog guy. Reruns no doubt.
"Now remember, when dealing with canines, they're usually energetic. If they happen to be tearing apart the house, it usually means they have some pent up energy. Dogs are individuals of course, but some breeds tend to favor larger open spaces. Pit Bulls for example. Denying them that means there has to be extra work to allow the energy to be properly removed during play-" Ironically part of him thought this might be great to have as information.
Then again the fact that these creatures. These things from the back act nothing like living things. Always ready to act on the orders of an unseen force. It would help tremendously in the teen's opinion that Afton would just wear the cloak and sickle just to make it more obvious.
His eyes grew heavy at the blinding light of the screen. The weight just forcing him to look absentmindedly look at the ceiling. Not a single moment to waste in his own mind, constantly whirring and worrying. Turning inside the faint memory of sadness into one of fear. A prison of his own making.
Jeremy jumped at the sight of the TV going static. No. Not that. It was something next to it that truly terrified him. A black bear, a shadow that kept following the boy since they got here. It was slumped...it looked eerily like Freddy, the old mascot. The design was distinctly the version known from the '90s. Fuzzy. And rather square in terms of shapes.
It didn't move an inch. Still stuck in the corner. Yet, a feeling of anxiety was building up. He turned to his left, finding himself at the mercy of another one.
A black rabbit. This one was a shape, indistinct. The only light appeared from it's eyes gazing deep into the teen's own will. Unlike the other one, it was unclear what it was based on. The Toy Model? The '90s fake fur redesigns? Or maybe a patchwork suit?
This one moved. It made Jeremy fall off the mattress as it just...willed itself closer. And closer. Creeping into the corner of the two hotel beds where Jeremy laid. Staring down at him, with a curiosity that couldn't be understood to the poor boy.
"..Jeremy..." It was the same voice. The same damn voice. A man's voice that sounded like a suffocation incarnate. Always out of breath. Always forced. The whisper of a dying man.
"I-I...I know this not real...not real. Not real. Not real," He continued that same line. Not real. Sobbing into his sweater. The next part would come, it always did.
"...they're in danger," Jeremy stopped his ranting. That was...different.
Never had this thing said a word beyond his name. There would be a chase. Monsters of those animatronics threatening his life. That night, that birthday. It always happened since that day.
"...huh...seems you have calmed a bit since we last met," The creature spoke, gliding onto the mattress. It sat, Jeremy crawling onto the opposite mattress. "Every time I call out, you seem to retreat into a nightmare. Not that I would be any better..."
"..." Odd. Nothing changed. The room wasn't a pizzeria. Not Elizabeth's house. Nothing. Just the same hotel room.
"I see you're still adjusting...better that we get to talk properly after seven years, then not at all," They spoke looking back at the strange shadow Freddy. "Although it was much longer for us to find someone who could listen,"
"...uh...why...why are...is that one getting up?" Jeremy pointed at the stationary shadow Freddy.
"Ah. No. No she's not. It's an issue with how she...I think you are smart enough to fill in the blanks," It was clear discussing how they appeared was uncomfortable.
"And you? You don't look very...mechanical,"
"Yeah...mine's currently occupied by somebody else. Hopefully you never get to meet them," He seemingly grimaced despite the obscured visage. Placing his...hands...together, he looked back at the teen. "Normally you'd disappear in your dreams...I guess something changed here, so I'll get to the point. We've been trying to lead you guys along to find Afton's secrets,"
That was direct. In all of his theories, Jeremy never guessed that they'd be helpful. Or remotely real. But considering each time they appeared he either was led closer to the truth or away from danger. Yeah. That storage with the masks protected him from the Mangle. He would never have done so if these shadows didn't lead him there.
"...so Cassidy too?"
"Well, we tried. But I doubt she was aware of our presence, or if she did, she did a good job ignoring us. All except you...you actually paid attention," Cassidy was one for ignoring things. But was she seeing these creatures too?
From the sound of it, there was a possibility and she was simply not willing to discuss it. Jeremy was already hesitant...in fact, this felt as surreal as before. Part of him wanted to play it off as another nightmare. Just something to bury when he woke up. Yet given the surreal reality from before, there was weight to this conversation that couldn't be applied as a simple hallucination or a dream; part of him wanted to hear this creature out.
"They're in danger? You said that at that start, right?"
"Yup. Let's get to that can of worms. Cassidy is in trouble...again, we try to lead her, but she doesn't seem to believe us to be helpful, if she even believes we're real at all. One of Afton's abominations is hunting her down as we speak," That made his stomach churn. Another one of those metal monstrosities were hunting Cassidy?
The fact that this was gnawing at him the entire evening didn't help either. The crushing pressure of his friend's mortality hinging in something that might not even exist. This shadow spoke to him for a brief period.
Basic words that were clearly made to point him in the right direction. Those things at night, they patrolled for Afton directly. Making sure that anyone who wasn't involved with that secret were to meet a terrible end. These two watched on in silence, unable to stop. Unable to even give these victims a chance.
Yes. This wasn't a simple death of a few by accident. It was deliberate. Confirming those tapes of what Jeremy already assumed had a grain of truth; Afton murdered a lot of people.
The twitching shadow Freddy took the attention of the rabbit. Standing up once more, he strode towards his companion. Jeremy only watched in silence to digest this information. It may be repetitive at this point, but he truly didn't know if he should believe this as real.
"We're running on borrowed time, Jeremy," He kneeled in front of the other one. "She won't survive on her own for long. You have to get to her...more people are needed to unravel his machinations,"
"...I have one question, one quick one," The rabbit looked over his shoulder. "...did you two...know a Mike Schmidt?"
It was an odd question. But something the teen needed to confirm before they left.
"...I think you already know the answer," He spoke.
***
It was quite an easy request given how late it had become. Mike was eager to open the entrance to the expo for him. Possibly curious himself. Apparently Afton wanted the security guards to focus on the surveillance room than actually patrolling. Something uneasy for the older adult.
"Okay...if we do get caught, I may just kiss my career goodbye," Mike joked, the doors creaking open after unlocking it. "Then again, I don't think it would change my terrible pay, so fuck it,"
"Thanks Mike. I hope I'm wrong. Are...are you sure you never saw the other two? George and Cassidy?"
"No. Like I said, there was nothing to indicate anyone broke in or was out of place," He replies shaking his head.
The door was closed once more. As the entrance was shrouded in darkness. The shape of those Rockstar models behind the main counter made Jeremy shiver; they still held a grip onto him.
Beyond that there wasn't much different from the usual layout. It still was an open center atrium with rows of several animatronic models. It still had the plaques. The little details of a museum at night. Although it wasn't any better any time of the day; the teen's pulse quickened passing by these robots.
And it only got worse as he looked towards the wall. This lead to part of the building that would've been the extra facts about the company. Not too different. Except the empty spot where that giant Ballora model used to be.
"The hell..? That's definitely not okay," Mike stares at the same empty space.
"I thought there were guards in surveillance?" Jeremy asked.
"Yeah. And I doubt they'd just let a giant metal woman walk off the stage...how would it even get power to move?"
"Does it need a lot of power?"
"For that thing, yeah. And stealing it isn't exactly easy. You'd have a better chance getting the people sized ones or that tiny Music Man prototype," Mike says pointing around the place at the animatronics in the room.
Such a shock would be confirmation from earlier in the hotel. That was real information, a real warning of danger. If it wasn't then, it does hold credibility now. Cassidy and George. Both could be in serious danger if a huge monster like Ballora was stalking them.
Creeping across the tile, his ears picked up an odd tune. A song coming from the auditorium. Almost like a...music box perhaps? No. There words. A feminine voice, crackled amongst the closed doors and a faint distinction of digital background.
It made his heart pound thrice as hard. That thing was still hunting, Jeremy was sure of that. The sound of other steps alerted him to Mike wondering about the blonde. He stopped too, hearing the sound as well.
"What kind of freaky...?" He took out a set of keys as he went towards the doorframe. It was padlocked of course, but luckily Mike still wore his uniform.
Thankfully Jeremy called him on his night shift, or this would be much harder.
Not that it was going to change whomever is behind that door, he grimaced.
*Click*
The lock was removed and slowly pushed aside. The song was becoming clearer. The song of a tomb, of dance, of sorrow. In any other context, Jeremy would have considered it beautiful. But it wasn't. Not now. Not when the choking pressure continued to crush the boy's imagination.
A swirl of thoughts of images of monsters awaiting to rip him apart. Sweat started to bead down his brow. Wiping away at it absentmindedly, the teen took the first step into this new abyss. Mike kept the door open, quietly reaching for his flashlight.
However, as Jeremy went ahead to see...a hand grabbed Mike.
"The fuck-"
The door slammed as Jeremy was too slow to react. Darkness flooded his world, the door being blocked by something. The worse part however was discovered just mere moments later. The song stopped.
Just the crunching and a struggle. Mike sounded in pain. A crash? A slam? A fight perhaps? Then back to silence. Pushing again, the door would not budge. There was definitely something blocking it.
His attention grew towards the hall behind him. The stage that would hold the man of his mission during the day. He remembered how packed it was, for fans, children, corporate, and even some false actors filling the rows.
Not a single soul was sat. Not a single word echoing the chambers. Nothing to give Jeremy the solace of company. Of some security. Just an empty room.
Simply trying to force the door open would be impossible and dangerous if he was in the same room as an animatronic. There would be no choice; he had to try another way out.
That would require him to remember the layout. Remember the backstage. Remember the ladders the pathways. They have yet to change. They would be a guide. And if possible, perhaps he could see if those two shadows would steer him right into the company of Cassidy and George.
First would be turning around however. The hardest step as Jeremy lifted himself out of his hesitation to make such an effort. Still looking towards the ground, his sweat starting to collect. His gasps short and unapologetic in their attempts to hold a scream. Right ahead would be his worst experience.
And yet, the teen looked up. Desperately hoping to see the face of that stubborn girl again. To see the two tired but no less alive. That was Jeremy's hope.
Taking a step forward. And another. And another. It slowed to a crawl as he started to adjust, seeing the shape of the auditorium.
No turning back, he thought. And he continued past the rows, before striding onto the stage itself.
And he would stop. He wasn't alone.