The marionette sat down next to the music box, feeling a wave of calm emitting from soft melodies. The music slowed to a stop.
"Hey...Candy."
They looked at the human, "That's a nice nickname, thanks for making this—" A long black finger tapped the box. "—work again."
A quick, out-of-control thumping reached their finely tuned ears.
"Thomas—"
"Wait, wait, wait, wait. How do you guys know my name?"
"Says so right there." They pointed at his chest.
The man glanced down at a golden rectangle pinned to his violet uniform shirt. His fist and last name were engraved in bold, black letters.
"Oh."
Frantic beats had slowed, but not by much. Shallow breathing joined it. A constant shift in the movements of his sleeves brought their attention to trembling arms.
"My dude, you're not in danger." The figurine moved towards him, wishing to pat his shoulder and rid him of the visible anxiety that plagued him. When the human's internal drum skyrocketed in rhythm, they stopped.
"You probably don't know this, but I used to preform magic tricks to kids." The marionette paused, trying to ease into the topic the right way. "I can—I can teach you one."
"Uhhhhhh, oh-kay?" He mumbled.
The puppet moved back to the music box and wound it up again. They sat in front of it, hoping its tune would give him a sense of calm, too.
"Breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven, and breathe out for eight."
Thomas did as he was told.
"You're doing great. Now, again."
His breathing was less jittery. The puppet tilted their head, searching for the sound of a heartbeat. The music ended.
"Good. Trick's over."
The human raised an eyebrow. He looked around, then fixated his gaze on the slender figure.
"I don't get it."
"You were getting real panicky, now you're calm."
———————————-
Thomas blinked in surprise. He put a hand to his chest to test the puppet's claim. Sure enough, a steady thumping greeted his palm.
"Are you some kind of robot therapist?"
Candy shook its head, "I'm programmed to entertain and keep kids safe and relaxed. You're no child, but I'll make an exception."
"Oh. Wow."
He didn't know what else to say. Every animatronic had introduced themselves to him, rudely or otherwise, but no where in any magazine of Fun Family's Pizzeria said its mascots possessed high artificial intelligence to the point of interacting like real people.
They were robots. Programmed with technology from the early 2000's. Their voice boxes seemed too complex, not pre-recorded. Movements too fluid, eyes bled human emotions. Their simple existence seemed complex beyond reason.
"Hey, um, why do you guys act like people? And what's up with being active at night?"
The instant Candy's glowing eyes dilated, he regretted opening his mouth.
"Lemme make somethin' clear." He couldn't tell if it was fear or anger or a mixture of both that flared in its gaze. "We come across that way 'cuz we mimic and learn from human behaviors. It's part of our programming that makes us appealing to kids and this restaurant popular. But we're not human, no matter how much it seems."
Thomas nodded slowly, and his companion continued.
"It's been about a decade since this restaurant opened up, and we don't get repairs often. So to avoid going Tin-Man and freeze in place, we've gotta keep our gears running."
The puppet picked up it's music box with ease and set it down in a corner, not far from the office desk. Candy slunk in and began winding a little device. A series of soft clicks ensured long segments of music to come.
"But I've been active enough today, so I'll rest."
With that, it pulled the lid over the box, disappearing at the start of a twinkling melody.
Thomas checked the time.
1:59 am
Well, at least Candy had a better sleeping schedule than him.
"Do robots sleep?" He wondered aloud.
Chiming and repeating keys drowned out his words, leaving the guard with his own imagination to fill in possible answers. He stood up from his sitting position and stretched.
A green sticky note he hadn't noticed before was hanging off the edge of his computer. He peeled it off and read the words in black ink.
Mr. Sanders,
Due to unnamed employees that will soon be dismissed, several items from the storage closet and kitchen have been mistreated and broken. Replacements will come in tomorrow, but since you're here, dispose the items listed to the outdoor trash.
-5 glass plates
-1 large cup
-small microwave in kitchen
-1 shelf board
-2 boxes of Christmas decorations
—Dexter, Manager
————————————-
2:23 am
He considered himself very, very lucky that none of the other mascots felt like bumping into him.
So far.
Thomas hurried back to the storage closet for one more item. A cardboard box with another sticky note that read 'trash' was swooped up and carried away. This one was lighter than the rest, but clanking and jumbling of glass could be heard as he headed out the back door.
Crisp, night air and the stench of discarded food breezed through his lungs. He hesitated at the dump. Maybe not every decoration was broken. It wouldn't hurt to keep something. Besides, curiosity begged him to see how a restaurant's holiday decor looked like. Were they pizza themed?
He set the box down and opened it up. A string of tiny lightbulbs coiled around clumps of fake mistletoe. Thomas pulled it out and examined the tangled mess.
"Hmmm."
No good. He tossed it in the garbage. Next was a snow globe of the restaurant's logo in bubbly letters, empty of water and full of cracks.
"Nope."
Handcrafted ornaments of the mascots' faces were mushed and deformed, perhaps fancy wax crushed under weight.
"Na-uh."
He proceeded with judging the conditions of snowman figurines, reindeer toys, a lightbulb in the shape of Santa Clause, and even more tangled lights. None were good enough to keep.
Thomas fished out a triangle-pizza ornament, the size of his palm. A metal hook at a corner suggested it was meant to hang on Christmas trees.
"How adorable."
He stowed it away in his pocket and scavenged one more thing out. Advertisement papers.
"Wait—no."
Large print displayed the words 'The Gainesville Sun', below it were reports of weather, politics, and a concerning headline.
Local Pizzeria Threatened to Shut Down Over Sanitation
Below it was a small chunk of context.
Fun Family's Pizzeria has been threatened again with shutdown by the health department over reports of foul odor coming from the much-loved mascots.
Police were contacted when parents repeatedly noticed what appeared to be blood and mucus around the eyes and mouths of the mascots. One parent alikened them to "reanimated carcasses".
Thomas scanned the newspaper. "August, 2014."
Concerning as it was, this edition came out a few years ago. The restaurant hadn't lost business, and the mascots...
He flipped through the papers. Another headline from the same month popped up.
Kids Vanish at Local Pizzeria- Bodies Not Found
Four local children were reportedly lured into a back room during the late hours of operation on the night of August 8th. While video surveillance failed to hint a suspect, the children themselves were never found and are presumed dead.
Police claim that the suspect used the company's mascots via remote control to earn the children's trust.
His eyes widened and drifted off to stare into nothing. Though it was years ago, a pang in his heart ricocheted at the thought of panicked families and terrified kids during the event.
"And the mascots..."
What were they, really? Bodily fluids didn't belong inside robots.
"No suspect found."
Nothing else was in the box. With a huff, he tossed it in the garbage.
"Unless..."
An insane thought pressed forward.
"No, no, no." Thomas gripped his head, "That's not possible."
The theory nagged at him, spinning gears in his mind. It was a starting puzzle piece, one that stringed together the peculiar things he'd seen about the animatronics.
However, it was likely. Very likely.
...........
Psst! Wanna know something?
Chapter 4 and 5 are a' coming next Monday 🖤