Oddities strewn about where the shadows led, a pile that seemed to be larger in scope than the last time Jeremy entered. It grew, a nostalgic tomb for whomever was so willing to hang on the past as if their survival depended on it. A tomb was right in many ways. The dead were kept restless if that Chica was anything to go by. His old friend. Standing before them.
Even as the lesser rockstars missed their prey, the Funtime Chica didn't lose sight. It twitched and stuttered as the limited consciousness of Cassidy barely could keep the animatronic away. As always, it was the eyes that could give a tell; bright purple eyes.
It didn't care for the safety of it's friends, knocking aside the Freddy as it chased after them. No masks to protect them in this line of attack. Once again crashing into the recently tidied racks of nostalgia. Mike went left of this creature, as Jeremy went right. Just in front of the Rockstar Bonnie staring directly at him.
Not much time as the sound of screeching made Jeremy instinctively duck downwards. A loud smashing sound erupted as the larger animatronic's hand pierced through the face of the rabbit. As it collected itself, ignoring the flailing of the blue bunny, it simply tossed aside the poor thing without a second to waste.
It was hunting. It would hunt as it pleases. Relentless.
"Goddammit!!" Mike had his cattle prod ready in his left. He swung and made a strike right at that lower shoulder of this thing.
This plastic prison didn't like it as it screamed violently. But even then, it wasn't much of an improvement. It was a delay tactic. The Funtime jittered as it looked at Mike, then back towards the teen. Cracked plastic moving alongside the mesh that hid below. As it briefly took a step it's eyes shining a pale amber for just a second.
"Please run..." Cassidy's voice sputtered out in distorted static. And then it dashed after him.
Clanking. Clanking. Faster than a creature this size should be able to accomplish.
Jeremy had to begin getting up as he found his legs burning throughout this newfound chase. Leaping as his breath filled the empty snout of his Foxy mask. The stairs upward, twisting past the Rockstar Foxy as it briefly looked back towards it's twin. The larger Chica had made it's stride, stomping hard enough to dent the metal staircase bolting towards it's prey.
"Dammit...kid!" Mike's cries were dulled by the flight that lifted the blonde towards heights unimaginable.
Weaving through unknown sections of the warehouse until final entering what looked like another room. At present a good place to hide as it was crammed with endoskeletons. Each rusted and staring endless into the boy. The stomping continued; that Chica would be relentless.
Despite the jog currently being in his favor, Jeremy knew that his human endurance would give in. The robot would never tire like he would. That thought was becoming increasingly apparent as the boy found the closest thing to an exit. His body still aches from prior injuries. The phantoms of previous encounters flooding his mind as teetered around the endos that lay in various states.
Did I go right? Or left? Was a thought. Jeremy's hysteria had made him blurred through the mechanism of how he had arrived in this room.
His old habits. Old fears. It was beginning to nag at his fragile psyche. A giant version of those monsters stalking him. Even worse, the knowledge that his best friend was entombed in a plastic and metal shell. Cursed to wander beyond death as some sort of slave. Gaps...just gaps between the swirling torrent of torment flooding his senses.
He had kept his head down as the frame had the Chica lean down to enter due to her extraordinary height; how that beast of a machine didn't fall through the floor was the miracle here. Amongst the silenced metallic creatures he weaved wearily towards a semblance of safety. All while keenly aware of those violet eyes scanning the dark room.
Not that it was anything like the Ballora. That one was blind. It could be managed. And that Circus Baby was incapable of actually harming him. This? It was unclear if that same rule applied. Not when Cass' voice only could barely reach him. Those purple eyes dictated an extensive means of control; from everything Jeremy had witnessed and interpreted, this was the only genuine answer he had in his own list of questions.
Each step careful compared to it's prior gait, the Funtime model did take care to maneuver between the endoskeletons. Naked and twisted in a sort of artful imitation of life. It only could linger for a few moments before pushing aside a few stray parts. A light clank heard when some fell to the floor or to other of it's metallic kin. Just. Looking. For. Prey.
The teen had managed to go to a crawl. As unwittingly painful as that sprint was, that pain was temporary compared to what awaited if he were to falter here.
*Clank*
Did the sound vibrate throughout this joyless tomb. It was creeping closer. It's whirring an indication of it's thought. Was it Cassidy or was it the monster thinking?
*Clank*
An endo's head would fall over. Right in front of Jeremy's plastic snout. Stifling an urge to shout at this monstrosity before him, he grasped what would have been an ear. Tentatively feeling the craftsmanship. Breathing heavily, yet careful not to be loud.
*Clank*
An older model. Much like the others he had seen growing up. Or at least the boy could hazard a guess. A simple mouth hinged and bolted onto a sickly tarnished skull. It's eyes large and long sense devoid of those bright colors that would entertain toddlers from ages past. Could he perhaps...?
"-uck you...sick...better as a-" Mike was clearly in trouble. Yet there wasn't anything to do but avoid this beak-less chicken.
*BANG*
Seemingly out of frustration the Chica would toss a spare endoskeleton into the nearest wall. Peering above the stack, right there, was the instrument that haunted him. That animatronic was fighting itself from how twitchy it got. A low growl emitting from it's speakers.
"I...c-c-can't...stop. STOP!!" It's eyes flickered between two colors, as if Cassidy was still in defiance.
Even like this, you hate being told what to do, Calmed Jeremy only a tiny bit. That Chica was still flickering between those colors. Lurching in what viewers would see as pure anguish.
Enough time to react. Jeremy soon grasped the head tighter and pushed past his disgust at this thing, just seeing if anything was on or even remotely useful. The wires itself were already detached, yet that seemed to be a byproduct of no longer having a proper neck.
Tinkering as he slightly crouched between the creatures, it started to move in repetitive motions. Closing and unclosing it's jaw once he had found the necessary button just in the back of this faux skull. Good.
"AUUUGH!!!" The Chica screeched as it punched the nearest wall. The sheet metal that comprised this upper floor of the warehouse broke at the force.
The light plastic that adorned the bird's fingers had broken. The mesh that held it together from within was revealed, most of the remaining shell having a suitable scar that indicated a cracked exterior. How much power was in that thing?
Jeremy quickly used that brief assessment of damage to look around once more at this tomb. Generally having just a head around was not enough. There needed to be more. The walls themselves were pretty thin too...that prison-like shell was strong.
Already an idea began forming as Jeremy crawled towards the farthest regions of this storage area. Enough to be at least where the ground floor could be seen through the gaps of this seemingly mismanaged man made structure.
If it was Afton's modifications to the building, it was cheaply done. Much like Fazbear Entertainment's philosophy of cutting every conceivable corner.
Ignore the fear, Jeremy. It's just another emotion, burst through his mind as he handled the head of these creatures. He knew that he'd need to risk a lot for this to work.
Tentatively and timidly under the proverbial nose of this titan. Taking care to make sure the machine was treated of it's ill gotten grime taken from years of neglect. Inching closer to a set of endoskeletons laced unto the wall in a macabre modern art piece. Good. Just perfect for the concoction just now finishing in his mind. Although it would require a bit of luck and risk to his safety.
Not that he was any safer in here. Not with that thing.
"*pant* *pant*..." Panting? Or an imitation of one through the crackled audio. It stopped just short of tearing it's face (what was left of it) off, just to once again hunch over in the corner.
Now for the last part. He removed his foxy mask. A dangerous gamble given the other animatronics would no doubt finally see him as a target. Yet it didn't matter to the boy. Just slowly removing his hoodie as well, taking the time to look back at the Funtime Chica. The glow reflecting off the metal was deep red; Cassidy wasn't that color nor did the violet eyes of Afton come back. What exactly..?
Continuing soon after, the teen had placed both items atop an old endo. There, that was good enough to create a good enough facsimile of himself. Given the poor lighting, that would be a huge advantage. Trickery was the only play he could have. Of course, he made sure to grab something out of the hoodie's pockets beforehand.
"...!" The Chica's visage stuttered a bit as if it were just now beginning to recognize it's position. Here, Jeremy quickly activated the old animatronic head.
Stirring in a stunted motion with the mask slowly moving around as it's face, the visage was enough to gain the attention of the Funtime as it crashed through the feeble tables only to find that the figure they were lurching for was only a fake. Momentum would dictate that the animatronic was overzealous in it's hunt right as the cheap metal was bursting forth. The creature had fallen a good portion of the way down with a loud slam, the crunching of metal and memorabilia audibly gathering the attention of other monsters.
Yet...Jeremy found this a hollow victory. Now he would need to be unprotected. He still had the cattle prod from Mike. And...
Something had appeared before him at the edge of the doorway. Something equally concerning; the Mangle was hanging just above the entrance to this small storage room. Static drowning out his thoughts as it clambered awkwardly through the frame. The teen did not feel deterred somehow. There was a sense of inevitability that kept itself firmly planted in his mind; an animatronic would always find him eventually. And this one? After playing that scenario in his head, over and over and over...he grasped the other object he had taken for this very moment. A tennis ball.
And Jeremy whistled.
"Down boy. Or girl...?" Suddenly that idea was now being put to reality. Really wish that this was a normal dog.
It's static whirred as it cocked it's head toward the ball in question. Like a memory had appeared before it. Of it's prior life. Still it continued to move closer. It kept a gaze on the prod instead...not good. With a groan, Jeremy dropped it away, now armed with only a toy and his wits.
"Calm assertive...*whistle*..." He once again put the Mangle's attention on the curious sphere. "Easy..."
It did jerk back inquisitively. It's static was just now beginning to smooth out, not as loud and piercing as before. Thinking. Waiting. All those late nights spent with useless trivia on the only good channel in a hotel room just waiting to be tested. He moved the ball to the left. It followed. To the right. It followed. With a loud thud it was now on the floor, startling Jeremy a bit at the sudden shift but he kept posture firm and unchanging as he could.
"Hey! Down!" Jeremy told him or her quickly as it was just about to charge. By some miracle it stopped. "You want the ball? You want the ball?"
Static grew loud again as it was possibly excited. At least the teen hoped that's what that meant; hard to tell from the other static noises this Mangle made. Slowly clawing it's way closer to him.
"Alright. Sit!" Another thud. It was awkward to say the least with a body that wasn't built to sit. If anything it looked more like a crouch of some kind. "Close enough...now..."
Mangle continued to stare intently with it's one good eye— or three, given the extra head— at Jeremy. It was clearly not in the mood for patience. And attempts to jump for the ball, with Jeremy adjusting and standing his ground as the metal creature nearly swatted him away with that motion.
"Down! Mangle, down," Internally he wanted to scream. But to scream was to show weakness. To show it to essentially an animal like this was to invite death. Again he repeated those motions; the alpha needed to take charge. "Stay. Stay...now you want it?"
He took the ball and switched to his other hand looking behind near the door frame. Empty from the looks of it, no animatronic unaccounted for. Perfect place.
"...fetch!" With a quick toss the Mangle chomped after it with it's ceramic face before somehow managing to grab it with their new appendages. It turned back.
And it simply waddled over to drop it to it's feet. Not quite as elegant as it would have been had it been an anatomically correct dog, yet it had the literal and figurative spirit of one. Thankfully, whoever this dog was in life, it at least had some idea of domestication. Relief washing over Jeremy, he leaned for the ball.
"Good girl...I think..?" The Mangle only turned it's main head in response. It possibly was trying to mimic the lolling of a tongue, although this thing never had a functioning tongue to begin with.
"...please deposit five coins-" A loud metallic thunk rang through the halls.
"Shut up with those coins!" Was heard faintly; Mike. In his daze, he had forgotten about the other creatures that were no doubt swarming the adult.
Yet here the Mangle waited. They would be expecting a continuation of the game.
Absentmindedly, Jeremy tossed the ball again as it trickled down the stairs with it's rubberized thuds and thunks ringing down the steps. The Mangle of course eager as before quickly turned around and pushed itself out the room. The doorframe splintered as it grasped it with it's hydraulic frame. He quietly followed the beast down with him, fearing how to deal with the others. Mike needed help. Yet there was an obvious problem in training a creature so quickly to do as it was told. Fetch was one thing, but learning to defend others it didn't know? That was a leap in the steps.
Halfway through the stairway, Jeremy's fragmented memory of how he got here was being repaired. Each step a terrible reminder of the lengths he had to go through to survive. Dents where he was nearly grasped. Smashed glass from where that Chica simply burst through as soon as he was seen. A crowbar bent as he had tried to use it as a defense weapon. All of it was coming back to him, that daze no longer filling his head. All while entertaining this creature.
Every few feet, it came back expectedly and every time the teen obliged. The game was enough to make him at ease with this one at least. Although there was a bit of unease considering he just noticed the yellow pipes that were also here; various lines similar to the ones near the entrance. These seemed...newer compared to everything else. And one thing that was emblazoned on the warnings? Propane.
Not unusual considering the weather, but still something to keep in mind. The boy would rather not die in a fire.
*Zap*
The Mangle screeched in abject pain as someone else had shocked it from behind. Turning, the form of somebody else showed itself. It looked...like George?
Hard to tell when most of him was sunk in the background, yet his frame was obvious. Heavyset middle aged father ready to go to war. But...against whom? Jeremy was confused as to why he chose to appear now.
"Hey, Jeremy. It's not safe here...are you here alone?"
"N-No...um. No not at all. George?" Jeremy's attention shifted to the Mangle crawling up again. Yet the older man once again jammed that device once more into the creature.
In any other circumstance he'd be glad. Yet this metallic thing made no attempt to attack. Why wouldn't it? George was a trespasser. The only reason the teen made it this far was sheer luck and guesswork. It should be attacking them.
Yet it cowered. Afraid of...him? Him?
"How'd you get a cattleprod?"
"Guess you dropped it or your friend. Who is he? Is it a he? I'm assuming," George sputtered out an answer. The Mangle tried to crawl away from him.
*Zap*
Once more. This thing that Jeremy had feared beforehand was just a pitiful cobble of beams and wires now. Just suffering in it's place. A Mangle no longer willing to fight back.
"T-This uh...monster...are there more? Uh...yeah we should go before this one gets any funny ideas..." George said.
Jeremy inspected him in the shadows. Why wasn't he getting closer? George would clearly want to make sure he's okay, rush him out of danger. Even as flawed as his planning was this trip, there was no doubt that this adult cared for his safety; he even cried for Cassidy.
Did he cry for her? It sounded like it, the boy thought back to the hotel room. The hotel room...yes, there was more back then.
He took a few steps towards George slinking past the whirring creature. Just as he was, a powerful stench filled his nostrils. An odor that overpowered his senses; this was not simple body odor. Looking up after reeling from the nauseating scent, Jeremy noticed that George had took a few steps back. Odd. And concerning.
"C'mon...let's get going,"
"..." Jeremy choked as he still could feel a faint whiff of something off. "...Stand closer, George,"
"Eh, trust me, I stink," Not quite the response for the situation at hand.
"..." That didn't satisfy the teen's doubt. Especially given how unusually casual he was. Not even in a hurry to make their way out of the warehouse.
The Mangle was behind the boy now. Unending in their attempts to simply get away. Not from a monster. Not from him. But George himself. A simple smelly man.
As it tried to crawl away George once again tried to strike them again with shocking fury. A chance. Jeremy quickly held his breath and pushed into him. Right into the right place where the light shined brightest in this desolate building.
The sight of him was enough to strike that fear once again into his heart. This George used to have a comforting vibe to him. A byproduct of fatherhood and loss while being a father. Yet here?
His skin was no longer that simple pale shade. Bits of him peeling and falling off in scraps of decayed flesh, blue at was left of his lips. Beneath the glint of metallic wires, his eyes simply revealed to be as fake as glass replacements. As his disgusting visage was brought to life, his eyes too would change color, a brief change to violet.
"...shame," It spoke plainly.
Jeremy found himself suspended off the ground, this creature clenching onto his throat. Tears swelled as the pressure kept adding up. From behind him, the Mangle gingerly trotted away to grab the ball that he had dropped. And behind that mess, other animatronics. The other Rockstars already here. Waiting. Waiting.
Waiting...for him.
***
"—a setback proven to be ineffective. We'll be ready when you are Mr. Afton," Jeremy could barely see the shape of a woman by a desk. A desk that was familiar to him...the very same he saw the first trip into here.
He could see that he had been unconscious. His hands bound in plastic zip ties sitting on the tiled floor of this experimental room. Although what frightened the boy the most was the pile being thrown into some kind of trash...meat. The skin of a man he had once trusted...staring back with soulless gaps where his eyes should be. A gaze cut off by the mechanical beast, it's frame an empty metal mess of tubes. All still covered in dried remains.
"Good. *cough*...make sure to...pick up some fluids. Running low...*wheeze*...contact me after I deal with these loose ends..." That was a man. A British sounding man.
"Please deposit five coins!" It was immediately met with a cattleprod to the chest, the Rockstar jittering before being stuck in a hunched position.
"For goodness...I wish they had given me actual functioning robots! Fazbear, cutting every corner imaginable," He grimaced before being brought to a fit of coughing from his shout. "Better...ugh...not get too...angry. Knackered enough as is...ah, you're kid's awake Mike,"
"*mmph*" The muffled rage lead him to see that at his feet was the security guard, the local Texan, bound as he was.
"Lovely. All the things are set...Heh. Didn't think you'd connect with the Mangle so easily. Don't have the patience nor time to raise a pet. I delegate that to my secretary," A sound of wheels could be heard. Shifting his position, Jeremy could vaguely see the rest of him.
William Afton. He looked far worse than before on stage. Even without makeup, this was a massive downgrade. A man barely able to stand, already looking as thin as the thinnest elder kept on oxygen tanks that strapped to his nostrils. The most eerie was his eyes; completely violet and glowing in the darker parts of this room. Only visible when he wasn't adjacent to his monitors. Monitors that looked like stills from the warehouse. From the pipes to the stairs, everything was there; the Chica had been moved.
"Like my design? It was effective. Tricked your female friend...girlfriend? Eh...doesn't matter. Tricked you too," He motioned towards the endo-like thing that masqueraded as the adult. "I call him Ennard. Poetic given it hides in innards. Successful test drive. Got to...got to...Ballora!"
"You killed him,"
"Hm? Oh...yes. You see he was getting viciously close to exposing my work before it was ready. I could have just had him crushed by his Baby, but I knew there was too much loose ends. Ballora! For god's sake answer me," He wheezed. For a moment it looked like Afton was choking. But once again he was back to talking again. Muttering about recording.
A thud led to a creature on the other side kneeling, the ballerina animatronic now by this dead man's field of view.
"Yes, Mr. Afton?"
"...get a recording ready. I want to record the progress of Ennard. The tests, the...the everything,"
"All the recording software is unavailable. That equipment is in the sister location at this time. I'd be happy to record your thoughts if you deem it necessary," Afton stared at Mike and Jeremy for a moment. He clearly was concerned from his posture.
"No no...sod it. They're going to be snuffed out. Oi! Chica! Make sure your boyfriend doesn't start talking in the middle of my dialogue,"
Another rumbling from across the room made him gasp as the shattered Funtime crossed the room to reach for him, hoisting the blonde up to wall upright, covering his mouth. He could feel the hydraulics pressing against his skull.
"Be gentle. Can't have the police suspect anything other than an unfortunate accident. Now...*ahem*..." Afton remarked as the hand of the beast relieved a bit on it's grip.
With limited success at his angle, Jeremy could see the broken face of his former friend. Trapped beneath. Just a slave to this man so nonchalant in his crimes. A pathetic thing just clinging on to what little life he apparently had.
The detail of his recollection was vivid in how uncut and unfeeling it was. Every sickening detail laid bare as if it were a simple medical exam being spoken. The luring of George to the right conditions. Tearing his organs out to replace him and the decay that comes from a lacking a set. Every word punctuated by a wheeze. A terror despite it's signal to a weak body.
Every detail. A cruel recollection of hypothesis, experimentation, and conclusion. Just another science project. Yet now? Jeremy could understand why it felt so easy to come here. It wasn't luck. It wasn't skill. No planning ahead, no method to avoid this travesty in the making.
Afton wanted them to come here.
"Now. Copy it. Send it over to Rabbit 2 for analysis. Delete the rest once your done. The usual protocol,"
"Yes, Mr. Afton,"
"Oh...and see to it that Circus Baby is dosed with more leftover remnant. She was performing poorly against these two kids,"
"We do not have enough to make a difference sir. Just enough for about a milliliter or so,"
"Bloody fucking...just use it anyway. It's more than enough given it's source. Remember that?" Afton sighed as the beast left towards another part of the warehouse. "Cheeky thing. Still acts like her even pumped full of the stuff. Now I have to deal with the Baby...you can let him go now,"
He slinked back to the floor as the Funtime let go of his face.
"You did this? You killed them all didn't you,"
"That is such a negative accusation. But you are young, so I'll be the adult and teach you something," Afton grinned as he reached for his pocket pulling out the tape; 1985. "Perhaps you can understand at the end or not. It's possibly one of the most important parts in my scientific achievement. All here, 1985. The year where my eyes opened and my mind expanded into a world beyond simple children's entertainment,"
A Rockstar Foxy had appeared and stepped towards them. Mike felt a sting as it ripped off the tape.
"*groan* Be glad I can't beat your sorry ass!"
"Schmidt you would have to get past the rest of them before you ever even had the chance of touching me," His wheelchair moved towards the monitor as the withered man moved aside the clutter finding the resting place of other tapes right next to the big player beneath sheets of discarded Manila folders.
Afton simply placed the tape inside with an audible click.
"Now. Goodbye...hope we never have a conversation in the future-" His eyes glowed a bit as he was staring at something in the window.
Jeremy himself was curious, moving his head towards the same window. Thankfully, it was not an entity that made him afraid. Far from it. After everything seeing this creature again meant there was a chance; a shadowy rabbit.
Afton looked towards Jeremy, and back at the creature. The teen shuddered at the machinations of this madman's mind.
"Hm...you see something, lad?" Not a word in response from the boy. With a sigh he simply pressed play and soldiered on with his entourage.
The door was shut. The sound of mechanisms signifying the trap being enacted. A tomb for them to exist in. Of the entourage only Rockstar Foxy stayed behind. It's hook glistening with a silver sheen. Just daring them to try anything. The bird on it's shoulders squawking the same prerecorded message over and over. Yet his ears lingered towards the sound of Afton emitting from the tape recorder.
A mystery finally unleashed. He spoke as if he had lost something.
"My um...the last of my kids died today. The eldest specifically. Just got the call from the hospital. It's not quite the usual analysis that I've been making but...so far I got to thinking. This stuff that came from that tragedy long ago with Henry, it's quite potent. Could reverse a few things if I could only have a larger pool of test subjects. My wife so far has been a successful trial run. She moves like she never gotten sick. But that was different. I can't yet reverse death itself. Not when it's already happened. Those two boys...I have no clue how to get remnant that has already left. They passed. They're...I've been experimenting with a way to leave remnant behind. Without fully removing it. So far it shows promise but all remnant is different, different in the power in the will in everything. Some lingers for days, others fizzle out in an hour with enough heat applied. Some like that puppet creature...it's still going on. There is a strong source that keeps it on the land of the living. I need to find it. Perhaps I could reverse someone's death or anchor them properly to a source that will allow them to continue after they should have died. Hehe...sounds like fantasy. All of this. Well...I best get more trials ready. I made contact with that man to get them for me, as he is the key to why these strange anomalies keep happening. Hopefully when I'm done I'll get a Nobel out of it *laughs*...I'm going to put everything as they were. As they should be. In the end, I'll put them back together. The first step...I'm going to use that same splitting process on me. If I don't make it? Well...science was never a safe profession if you are serious about it,"
"...heh. Pretentious asshole. Afton is just a murderer with a god complex. That much is obvious," Mike chuckled as the tape ended. "Yo, furry guy? Do you have a mind in that tin can of yours?"
The Foxy only responded by spouting a stereotypical 'argh'. It's clear that it wasn't very independent. Not like the others. Not like...
Perhaps there was a pattern there. A set narrative from all of this. He used this terrifying process of remnant extraction on his wife. He had a wife somewhere. Yet from Cassidy, it's doubtful that she'd be a willing partner. No. If he split his soul up, he'd be putting it in others. If his wife was being disobedient...
The rabbit in the mirror tapped the window. It seemed only the teen could witness him. Yet it was enough for him to notice a faint smell. It was not yet a concern given how dusty this place was, but he remembered back before the ruse was revealed of pipes leading everywhere in the halls. Was this place...?
Jeremy looked towards the animatronic as it walked towards him. With a quick motion in undid the straps with it's hook additionally it began to do the same. Mike took an opportunity and barreled into the creature into the doorframe. It didn't budge, but the creature was now stunned. No. Not stunned. Even as Mike tried to make a run to the other side of the room to find an alternate exit, it didn't try to stop them.
The smell was slowly overpowering.
"God dammit...what's with this thing?"
"Afton wants to make this look like an accidental death. Cuts. Restraints. They look suspect..."
"Whattya' mean?"
"He wants to make this look like a gas leak. An accident with fire included..." Jeremy stared past the shadow rabbit towards the other side. At the bottom was grates. Small and unassuming as they had passed them several times.
And right now, they were glowing an intense blue as the fire began to start from below.
"What...oh Jesus Christ...dammit!" He stood closer to the window and saw the start of an arsonist's handiwork. They'd burn here. Everything that could implicate Afton? They'd burn here.
He thought this out. Jeremy grimaced at that prospect. This expo. Everything was planned to find enemies willing to go all the way for the truth and trap them here in one place.
Every step they took this man had contingencies. And with the apparent death of George evident from the flesh discarded by that Ennard, this most likely was a repeated affair. Silence the whistleblowers. Use the nonchalance of Fazbear Entertainment to open new locations for more bloodshed. All to basically bastardize the concept of life and death.
Mike himself as defiant as ever was struggling to look for a way out. Not even a crawl space for him to consider. Just a small vent overhead, neither party able to fit. Even trying to smash a chair through the window didn't help; most likely maxi-glass or some strong material just for this side of the warehouse.
He himself decided to walk towards the desk. The monitors flickering as the creatures walked towards various spots in the warehouse. Eventually they'd leave. Eventually these fires will start to erupt further. Eventually the smoke will choke them out or the flames themselves pierce their bodies until they could no longer hang on to life. Morbid, but a thought that kept returning to Jeremy's imagination.
This look into the screens created an awareness of Afton's daily life since the expo started. How many times did he see them skulking around in these halls? How safe were they truly in this place? The rest of this desk contained the messy stacks ready to be used for extra kindling.
A few stacks that seemed very innocuous to rest of this damnable work. Paperwork and copies of files for financial records, the type of things seen in every capacity when it came to managerial positions across the nation. Emails and fax documents across a single name of Afton Robotics. Mixed with the designs of diabolical inventions, one of which being Circus Baby's intended purpose stark in it's cruel goal. Of meetings and payments to employees. HR policies and revisions. And...
"Hm..?" Jeremy noticed something underneath the desk. Crouching below he saw something lying on it's side.
A multi jointed thing that accrued a major amount of grime. It's only appendages being two broken cymbals attached to a square body. Even as a children's toy it looked off from it's static almost gaunt smirk. Next to it, was a similarly made object to be what could be a controller. Various buttons and joysticks that attached itself like a parasite to a handheld radio. And small enough for the vent above that trash compactor.
"Michael. I think I have an idea. It's probably dumb...but..."
"What? You looking at something?"
"This?" Jeremy grasped the metal thing and placed it in the light. He messed around with the buttons before turning on a switch.
"Music Man?" Mike stared at the robot. "Was he just playing with toys when he is bored? Tch..."
"No...Hm..." Jeremy took the controller and looked it over. Despite being faded with time, it was far cleaner than the spider creature was. "Hello?"
The same voice spoke out of the mouth of Music Man. An idea was forming. A bit of hope to what could save them. The Foxy was right there staring yet not messing around. That thing was meant to keep them in the room. Yet from how Afton acted, they were not that smart or functional as the higher end ones.
This didn't count as them leaving the room.
Whispering to him of the idea and of the Foxy's limited functions, they quickly made their way towards the vent. It continued to stare as Mike lifted the teen atop the compactor. Mike himself took the opportunity to look around the floor of this special office and found several pieces of tools nearby. Not quite enough to get the door open, but a screwdriver was enough to assist in this. Easily handed over to the teen with a toss.
And again the Foxy stared yet let out a warning line. A stereotypical line of walking the plank. Ready for them to try and escape. Each twist given by the screwdriver met by the creature in position to pounce.
*clink* *clink*
It opened. Placing it right inside, he grasped the controller. A whir of the machine started as he messed with the joystick. The clanking of skinny metal rods, a few bumps and thuds due to not knowing the layout.
And the Foxy seeing them not moving any further...stopped.
Dumb as ever. It was weight off of them. Mike looked at the monitors.
Soon, he smirked at the result. Jeremy jumped down to see what the commotion was. Right around where he was pointing, camera feed 4 was where the other vent revealed the tiny creature crawling into the open.
"Heh...guess he should have cleaned up more,"
"Probably was planning on having it burnt as well,"
"So...you think your friend will be strong enough to listen? I doubt that thing has enough range to go to the nearest police station,"
"Eh...either that or being dead. Rather the first one..." Camera 2. The boy found see the large shape of several animatronics around that wheelchair bound monster. Circus Baby, Ennard, Ballora...and the Funtime Chica. Cassidy. "...is my guy hidden?"
"Enough...say what you want to say. I'm trusting you on this,"
"Heh. Trusting a kid, huh?"
"You expect me to trust anyone else in this damned building? It's either you or that thing. And that thing is pretty stupid," He pointed at the Rockstar Foxy. Funny. It almost made the teen laugh.
Almost. Though the thought of what to speak through this thing's mouth was a curious one. What to say? What words could pull that remnant of Cassidy out? Would it even matter? Yet from earlier...there was more here to use. Yet that other one was a gamble. Would it help?
With a deep breath, he pulled the device close to his face pressing the button on the side as before. A little awkward given it's jimmy-rigged nature, yet still doable. The charred flames filling his nostrils were just beginning to register; decent motivation.
"Cassidy...if you can hear me...you are not just fighting Afton in there are you? There was more in that shell, right? Well...I need you to fight. I need you to resist for our sakes. For Elizabeth and I. And if you can't do it yourself...let the other one take the driver's seat,"
On the monitor the Chica turned as the Ennard lurched over to move piles of junk to grab the music man. It seemed to stop as looked directly at the camera feed slowly glaring into the lens. Right into the eyes of Jeremy. Unblinking as the others around it began to remove the small robot. It's eyes flickered...a deep red emerging in it's place.
Quickly it clashed with the Ennard and tossed it aside. Voices audible outside as it moves across the feeds. Now it was just outside in the courtyard. Smashing that monstrous thing into the floor and bits remaining of those shelves. Even the Foxy in the same room turned to attention to a loud screeching emitting from that animatronic. Behind, the Ballora would attempt to subdue with the cattle prods left behind by them. It only stoked a fury in that robot, as it grasped the wrists of that ballerina and tossed it towards the glass. It cracked from the force despite it's strength.
It tried to stand again but was met this thing rushing it. The glass no matter how strong or durable couldn't handle such ferocity by this unknown entity. Each time trying to crush the head of this animatronic against the headrest surface...before breaking right through. The Ballora tried to kick away but only delayed this rage.
"Our chance is now! Go kid! Hustle!" With how big that ballerina was, it left a good chunk open for them to leap out. It would...had the Foxy not stabbed Mike in the shoulder.
"Yarr! Ye scallywags be thrown in tha brig!" Foxy with it deep in Mike's flesh it tried to drag this thing right back inside.
Yet that Chica quickly put that to rest. It grabbed the muzzle of this Rockstar and ripped it's jaw in two. As the hook finally left, Mike starting bleeding. Looking over him, Jeremy could tell this would require stitches once they left.
"God! Fucking..."
"Please deposit five coins. Please deposit five coins. Please deposit- Please deposit-" Another one was emerging from the shadows. The fire was beginning to emit in a much larger plume from those grates.
"Dammit! Baby...kill them! Now!" A voice erupted. From this angle, only his violet eyes could be seen from the darkness.
"Yes sir..." It sadly spoke as it walked towards them.
In other times, he'd be afraid. Yet as the clash continued behind him with Chica fighting Ballora and Ennard, with the others emerging to try and deny them life to keep the secrets of this man, the boy didn't feel anything. No. Even with Mike injured, even with the truth of George's death now fresh information. There was something else entirely...hope.
The Circus Baby's claws were drawn. Just barely a few feet between them. He didn't have that fearful thump in his ear anymore when she arrived. None at all. She stared directly at him with the menace synonymous to the brand of Afton...and the blonde stared back.
"Hello Elizabeth," Jeremy spoke.