Okay, when I say "fanfiction," most people assume the word refers to the creepy sexual stuff. NO. This is a fictional story written by a fan of Five Nights at Freddy's, not a porn story. Ew.
I wrote a story about what the first game of FNAF would have been like if it was told from the animatronic's point of view. I stopped at the end of Night 4 because I wasn't sure what to include on Night 5 to round it out. I have the ending and epilogue, just not the MAJORITY of night 5. Any suggestions, do a comment or something.
UPDATE: Apparently I never published this like two years ago. I'll go ahead and publish for no reason. I still appreciate the universe of Five Nights at Freddy's, though I'm not as into it as much now.
The lights were clicked off, the last guest ushered reluctantly out into the cold night, and the smell of fresh-baked pizza wafted away as the cooks turned off the ovens and went home. The three animatronics were frozen on the stage, Bonnie with his guitar, Chica with her cupcake, Freddy with his microphone. Their eyes stared blankly into the dining hall.
Hours passed. The clock outside tolled twelve dull tones. It was midnight.
With the slightest of movements, Bonnie's ear twitched.
The purple rabbit relaxed out of his pose, laying the guitar to the side. He stretched, yawning, but when he finished, he was glancing around the dining hall, an uneasy look to his metal eyes.
He glanced at the other two motionless robots, then looked back around the pizzeria. Slowly, he stepped down from the stage.
Chica blinked, turning her head. "Bonnie, what are you doing?" she admonished irritably in a sleepy tone. "Come back to the stage, you're gonna get us in trouble."
Freddy's ears twitched and his eyes rotated in his head to face the rabbit. "What are you doing, Bonnie?" he questioned in a deep rumble.
"Nothing," Bonnie said, glancing back. "I just have... a weird feeling tonight."
"Oh?" Chica snapped. "You mean, any weirder than normal, then? Stop being stupid and get back on the stage."
"I'm just going for a walk," Bonnie snapped back. "It's midnight. No one's gonna be around for six more hours."
"Where are you going?" Freddy called.
"Just into the backstage," Bonnie replied, walking away. "I want some different company."
He opened the door to backstage and stepped inside, gazing at all the lifeless faces.
Somewhere in the building, a man gasped as he frantically searched through the cameras. "Where'd he go?" he muttered, his eyes as big as saucers. "Damn it, where'd he go??"
"They look so... empty. So alone," Bonnie whispered. "I wish they could talk to me."
Chica heard. "Don't wish that on them, Bonnie. Don't wish that on anyone. We don't want them to go through what... what we did."
Bonnie didn't reply.
The man started sweating when he found the huge, hulking shape staring at the camera screen.
Bonnie was staring into the camera, frowning as a thought occurred to him. "Hey," he called, "do you think they might have hired another security guard?"
Freddy and Chica guffawed. "After what we did to the last one?" Freddy said incredulously. "They'd have to be really stupid."
"It's been how many years since... since him... and they still haven't found him? Found our bodies?" Bonnie retorted. "They are stupid."
"He has a point," Chica murmured.
The chicken and the bear looked at each other for a moment, then the seriousness passed. "Another night guard," Freddy chuckled. "Yeah, right."
"Hey, watch this," Chica whispered conspiratorially. "Hey, Bonnie!" she yelled. "They say that if you look deeeeeeep into a security camera, you can see the night guard on the other side."
"Really?" Bonnie moved his face closer to the camera and stared hard.
The man stifled a scream and knocked over his chair.
Bonnie heard their laughter and glared at the camera. "That's not funny, guys!"
He emerged from the Backstage to see them chortling still. "I bet you looked really stupid!" Chica chuckled.
Bonnie glared, but his wrathful expression slid off and he looked over his shoulder.
"Now what?" Chica asked, her irritability returned now that the joke was over.
"I'm gonna go talk to Foxy," Bonnie murmured.
"What?"
"I'm gonna go visit Foxy," he repeated. "We rarely talk to him nowadays."
"Maybe because he's lost it!" she snapped with surprising fire.
"He was the youngest of us!"
"He was my brother, jerk!"
"You just said he went insane! Who are you calling jerk?!"
"Don't blame him for losing control, Chica." Freddy growled. "If Bonnie wants to visit your brother, don't keep him back."
Chica fell silent, though she visibly struggled when Bonnie turned away and began walking. He was halfway there when she called out, "Stop! I'll come with you. I'm sorry."
"Apologize to Foxy," Bonnie said frostily, but he gave her no more grief as she stepped off the stage and ran over.
The man choked when Bonnie came into full view, and Chica's silhouette appeared.
Despite her initial resolve, Chica's stride came slower and slower as she moved closer to the old purple curtain. "You go in first," she whispered, poking Bonnie in the back.
"Fine," he snapped. He stepped outside the curtain and called out, "Foxy!"
No answer.
He frowned. "Foxy, c'mon out! We want to visit."
A sound came from within the curtain. Bonnie could have sworn it was a sob. He looked back at Chica.
"He's your brother," he whispered.
"You're the one who wanted to visit him," she retorted.
He bit back a reply that would not have helped anything and simply said "Come in after me," before he approached the curtain, pulling it back and stepping inside.
The interior was entirely dark. Only a single sliver of light came through the gap, illuminating the old dark beige back wall. A hook was visible on the ground in the light.
"Foxy?" Bonnie hissed.
Another choking sob was heard. Foxy sounded more raspy today than usual. "Bonnie?"
"Hey, Foxy. Are you okay?" Chica should have been inside by now. Foxy needed the familiar comfort of his sister. "Why are you crying?"
"The eyes," Foxy muttered, and the hook trembled. "I feel the eyes. They burn."
"The eyes?" Bonnie asked. He felt a desire to run out of the Pirate's Cove, but instead he approached Foxy and blocked out the light from the curtain gap. "What are you talking about?"
The dim shape of Foxy became visible in Bonnie's night vision. He looked up, his jaw slack, as usual. "The screens. They carry the eyes. I feel them. It's... it's hurting me." He narrowed his eyes and his voice functions imitated a snarl, but his jaw remained the same. It was all but unattached to his servos after so long.
Bonnie hesitated, then put a hand on Foxy's shoulder. "Do you think it's the night guard?" he asked softly. "We thought we killed him. We thought he was gone."
"He is not gone!" The sobs were gone now and his voice became a snarl again, distorted by the damaged vocal functions. "I feel him. He's hurting me, Bonnie!"
"Okay," Bonnie said hurriedly, "I'm sorry. We're gonna go check, alright? Will you be okay?"
"Never okay," Foxy hissed. He wasn't snarling or sobbing anymore, but his eyes instead acquired a faraway, pained look. He was lost now. "Never okay," he repeated. "Never. Never gonna be okay."
Bonnie retreated, deep in thought. He was halfway across the dining hall when he realized Chica was nowhere to be found.
"Chica!" Bonnie almost bellowed.
"Quiet down," Freddy muttered from the stage.
"Chica!" He shouted, marginally softer.
She peeked out from behind the wall to the bathrooms, a sheepish look on her face. "I had to go."
"You jerk," Bonnie snarled, "he was almost broken! He needed you. Now he's all but shut down. What kind of sister are you??"
She snarled back, climbing back up the stage. "Don't snap at me, Bonnie. What kind of animatronic are you, waking up in the middle of the night with all this talk about the night guard? We killed him! He's gone! You and Foxy have both lost it! How could you bring up all this pain again?! If you're gonna be like this all night, spend the rest of the time in the Backstage with your friends!"
A ringing silence met this shouting match. Bonnie felt winded, which was strange, the length of time it'd been since he had had lungs. Chica looked about to cry. Freddy was silent, watching the pair of them closely.
"I'm gonna go check," he said at last. "Then, if I'm wrong, I'll go spend the rest of the night with my friends in Backstage. I won't bother you anymore tonight. Goodnight, Chica. Goodnight, Freddy."
With that, he turned and left, walking down the West Corridor.
Halfway down, he paused and ducked into the storage closet. Heaving, he tried to control the surge of emotions that rose in his throat - at least, that's how it felt anyway. He had no throat for emotions to surge through. This was one of the worst parts of being stuck like this - he still felt human emotions and a normal human's body's response to them, but in this robot body they only excited the servos and cranial controls. That was what happened in '87, he remembered - one of the animatronics felt so emotional seeing the happy children on the last day the pizzeria would be open, he lost all control. The Bite of '87 still brought pain to his heart, seeing the blood dripping off the person's shocked face...
Bonnie never wanted that to happen to him. He felt most responsible for the "missing children incident," as the company called it, being the oldest. He should have been able to do something. It didn't matter that he'd only been eleven years old. He should have suspected a ruse. He should have...
He shuddered and forced the feelings down. He couldn't lose control tonight.
"There'd better damn well be someone in that office," he muttered before exiting the closet.
He sidled slowly down the hall, one eye on the window that looked out into the corridor from the office. There was a faint light on, but that didn't necessarily mean someone was inside, he reminded himself. Trepidation mounting, he leaned against the end of the hall.
The man inside started hyperventilating at the sight of the rabbit so close.
Bonnie heard a noise inside the office and lost his patience. He leaned into the doorway and looked inside.
Time seemed to slow down as he took in the scene inside. A small light at the top of the office, lit; a desktop fan whirling on a cobwebby desk; a camera monitor that slid above and below the desk; and a chair. With someone sitting in it.
Bonnie recognized the suit anywhere. It was the night guard. It was the night guard.
The night guard was in the process of checking the door lights. There was a nasally electronic sound as the lights flickered outside in the east corridor. Bonnie was still staring in shock as the west corridor lights lit up and illuminated his gaping form.
The man screamed and fell back in his chair, his eyes wide. He tried to scramble to his feet but failed - instead, he crawled forward manically and reached up haphazardly, pressing a button on the wall near the lights.
The door slammed down, nearly catching Bonnie's overhanging ears. He gasped and jerked back, his astonishment broken, and he ran back down the hall to the show stage.
"There is someone!" he yelled. "The night guard is here, I saw him!"
Chica's and Freddy's eyes snapped to him, and no one spoke.
"He freaked out and closed the doors on me," Bonnie explained. "Nearly caught my ears. He's here!"
Chica looked at Freddy, who shrugged his shoulders.
"You don't believe me?" Bonnie's shock was curdling into anger. "Chica, come with me, see for yourself!"
"We don't have enough time," she murmured, glancing at the clock: 5 AM.
"Then let's go now!" Bonnie lost his patience, sprang up and grabbed her arm. "You take the east corridor, I'll take the west."
She shook free of his hold, but said nothing, only glancing at him before disappearing down the east hallway.
Bonnie moved at the pace he thought she would move at - an uncertain shamble stopping every few steps. Chica was often very indecisive. He reached the window just as she did. His limited night vision could make out the whiteness of her bib and her wide eyes. He nodded in the direction of the office, and she uncertainly stepped forward.
Bonnie saw her eyes widen - just as the door light lit up her startled face in the window - just as the 6 AM chimed.
Time seemed to slow again, but this time Bonnie wasn't frozen. He sprinted down the hallway in three wide steps, saw Chica doing the same - he yelled, "HURRY!" as the lights began to flicker back on - Freddy had already dimmed his eyes - the door handle was being turned - they climbed the show stage - the door began to open - he snatched up his guitar and returned to his pose as Chica grabbed her cupcake - and they dimmed their eyes as the first few workers arrived.
Mike Schmidt was still clutching his chest, staring in the window to the east corridor when the doors slid open. "Hey, Mike!"
Mike stuffed a fist in his mouth to stifle a scream and nearly toppled over in his chair again.
"Hey," John said, a worried look on his face. "Are you okay, man?"
"Yeah," Mike said, trying to breathe deeply. "Freaky night."
"I know what you mean," John replied, shaking his head. "The animatronics are cute and all, but you can see some weird things in the dark."
"Eh, John?" Mike asked tentatively, getting up from his chair. "Do you know the night guard before me?"
"No, not very well. Why?"
"Well... he left a recording for me tonight," Mike said slowly. John was a manager - not very high up, but Mike still didn't want to give him the wrong impression. "He said that the animatronics are left to move around at night."
"Yeah."
"Well... I'm pretty sure I saw them outside my door a few times. Trying to get into my office. The guy on the phone said... they would try to... well, they'd think I'm an endoskeleton without its costume on... he gave the impression that it'd be kind of dangerous."
John was studying him with concern. "That should be impossible, Mike. If that was the truth, wouldn't they be doing that to every customer they see?"
"Um... well, I'm not sure..."
"I bet he was just overstating things, Mike," John said confidently. "Don't worry about it. If there's any danger, you should be able to just close the doors, keep anything out."
"Yeah," Mike muttered, "sure."
"Come on," John said, slapping a large hand on his back, "You don't have to be back here for another 18 hours. I'll take you out to breakfast. You look like you've earned it."
Locks clicked, lights were flicked off, the ovens began creaking as they cooled off, and the lights in the office came on. The second night had begun.
Bonnie immediately lit up his eyes and turned angrily to the others. "I told you. I told you the night guard had returned!"
Freddy still looked doubtful. Chica looked down at the ground.
"Chica! I know you saw him too!"
"I don't know what I saw," she mumbled, still not looking at him.
"Well, that's easily remedied," Bonnie gestured down the hall. "Go down the hall and check."
"We'll get in trouble."
"That's what you said last time," Bonnie growled, nearly at the end of his wits. "We are robots. There's no one around except him. There's no one around for us to get in trouble with. If you're doubting my word, we should go and check."
Chica looked sheepish as she climbed down the stage. Freddy said nothing, just looked on.
Halfway across the dining hall, Bonnie paused, looking at the purple curtain in the corner.
"What?" Chica said behind him.
"We should apologize to Foxy."
Chica opened her mouth to protest. Bonnie cut her off. "You at least need to apologize for running out on him last night. And for not believing him."
"But -"
"What kind of sister are you?!"
Her face tightened, and Bonnie knew she would be flushed if she had skin. "How dare you!"
"Then go act like one." He strode up to the curtain and called out, "Foxy!"
There was a pause, and Bonnie was beginning to wonder if he was still unfocused from last night. Then the curtain was pulled apart and Foxy's head appeared with a growl. "What?!"
Bonnie recoiled from surprise when Foxy shuddered and snarled under his breath. "Foxy? Are you okay?"
"No!" he shouted. "Noooooooooooooo..." It started as a low-pitched growl and petered off into a groan. "Not okay. Where's my sister?"
"Hey, Foxy." Chica stepped forward with surprising feeling. "What's wrong?"
"The eyes," he muttered, then with more fervor, said "The eyes are looking out at me. I can't move or it'll burn. It hurts."
He looked pleadingly at Chica before growling and shuddering again.
Bonnie couldn't quite read Chica's expression, but it felt ominous.
"We're sorry we didn't believe you, Foxy," Bonnie said, "we should have known you wouldn't be overreacting."
He didn't respond, merely dipped his head in a nod while he was cringing.
Bonnie heard a clank and rustling sound. Puzzled, he turned to see that Chica was gone. Fury filled his throat and he opened his mouth to bellow when he saw her emerge from the kitchen.
"He was spending so much time on Foxy's camera, I wanted to take his attention away," she explained, cold anger in her voice.
Bonnie's own ire drained away, leaving a grim determination. "Let's go pay him a visit. To make certain he's really there."
There didn't seem to be much doubt left in Chica's mind, but she nodded as they walked down their respective halls.
Chica's footsteps sounded slightly brisker than usual, so Bonnie moved slightly faster as well. He thought about Foxy and how oddly the cameras seemed to affect him. He'd always thought Foxy's madness had resulted from being the youngest killed, but he started to wonder if there was more to it than that.
The door light outside was flicked on, and Bonnie stayed well out of its radius. The door was open, but after last night, the guard would be on double alert, turning on lights as often as possible. He'd be stupid not to. When the light turned off, Bonnie sidled to the hall's corner. Looking around, he spotted the camera in its little niche.
A little fun won't hurt, he thought, as he stared slyly into the camera screen.
He heard a gulp from inside, and patience and coyness vanished. He strode forward and leaned in the doorway.
"GAHH!" The night guard inside choked and slammed the door down to keep Chica from coming inside. Bonnie leaned in further, searching for an opportunity - if he could just get in behind him -
The light flickered on and the guard screamed again, slamming the door down. Bonnie jerked back to keep from getting caught in the metal door.
Frustrated, Bonnie stayed glaring at the door. Open it, he thought. Open it.
To his surprise, the door opened. The light turned on again, and the guard screamed, "Oh God, why's he still there?!" as he slammed the door shut again. Bonnie allowed himself a wry smile.
He heard a "psst!" down the hallway and saw Chica beckoning him.
"Why did you leave the door?" he asked irritably as he walked back to the dining hall. "If we just stay there, he'll run out of power eventually and we can just -"
"I know," she said. "But Freddy wanted to talk about that."
Indeed, the bear robot, usually distant and indifferent, was standing on the stage looking at the two of them. "I want to go after him too."
"You can," Chica said in her overly patient tone, "but you're not going to have him 'all to yourself.' We all have a right to go after him!'"
"I'm supposed to be the leader," Freddy said in what Bonnie would have sworn was a whine, "but I never do anything. I want to do this now!"
Chica growled in exasperation. "Look, you can go after him too. You just can't keep us away."
"That's not what a true leader would do," Bonnie said reasonably. "A true leader would combine all the strengths of a team to accomplish a goal better. If we all start going after him, I bet one of us will get him eventually. If you're the only one who attacks him, it'll take much longer."
Freddy was silent as he considered this.
"All right," he said finally. "But I'm going to wait till tomorrow night to start. I want to figure out his strategy."
"Fine," Chica said frostily as they turned to leave.
"But..." Freddy's voice rang out. They turned back around and his eyes seemed to have retracted to distant pinpricks of light. "If he runs out of power... He's mine."
There was no arguing with Freddy when he looked like that. Bonnie and Chica turned away again.
"I knew he'd say that," Bonnie growled.
"Me too," Chica retorted. "That's why I left the door. If the guard keeps them shut, he'll run out of power sooner. Then we wouldn't have him to ourselves."
Bonnie looked up at the clock - 4 AM. "We don't have much time left. If we don't get him tonight, Freddy will start moving tomorrow."
"I know," she said, voice taut with stress. "We have to get him tonight."
Foxy was just as tightly wound in his curtain. Every time the camera turned to him, he shuddered and growled.
As Bonnie and Chica walked sulkily away, Freddy's eyes continually strayed to the purple curtain. The fourth time the rasp was heard, he called out, "Foxy!"
There was a pause, and Foxy's head was poking out of the curtain. "What do you want??"
"You can go after him too," Freddy encouraged. "You don't have to leave it just to Chica and Bonnie."
"But the burning," Foxy hissed, then cringed again. "I can't move when the burning starts."
"Then wait till it's not burning and move!" Freddy urged.
Foxy wavered with indecision, snarling again as the camera trained on him. Freddy was about to encourage him more when he leapt out of his curtain and stood, heaving, on the dining hall floor.
"Good," Freddy smiled slightly. Bonnie would have been proud. Using everyone's strengths for a goal, he remembered. "Now go get him!"
"Argghh," Foxy writhed. "The damn camera!"
"You can do it," Freddy said. "When the camera isn't looking at you - run down the hall!"
"I can't," Foxy panted.
"You can," Freddy insisted, feeling impatient. "Now!"
Foxy took off haphazardly, his jaw flapping as he sprinted. He shoved aside a surprised Bonnie into the storage closet as he passed. "Hey!" Bonnie called, but Foxy did not slow down.
The man looked into the Pirate Cove camera and froze. Foxy was gone. "Oh God," he hyperventilated, searching the cameras. He screamed when he saw Foxy running down the hallway. Tossing the camera aside, he reached up and slapped the door button -
Foxy was almost there, seeing the light from the office spill out into the hallway, and he tried to grin as he ran towards it -
The door slammed shut and Foxy wailed. He slammed into the door and banged on it with all his might. "No! No! No! I was so close! I was so damn close!"
Bonnie came up behind him and reached out to comfort him, but Foxy slapped him away. "Don't touch me!" he yowled and ran back to Pirate's Cove.
Bonnie sighed, then glared at the door. It stood closed for a few more seconds before the guard opened it again. Damned guard, he thought. I remember the old days where there were no doors.
He leaned in close to the doorway, but just as the guard looked up - the 6 AM chimed.
"No!" Bonnie yelled with frustration. He zoomed toward the stage, noting that Chica was nearly there already - Foxy had disappeared inside his curtain - Freddy, oddly enough, wasn't frozen yet but was holding out a hand to help Bonnie up - he grabbed it - hauled himself up - grabbed his guitar as Freddy's eyes dimmed - dimmed his own eyes as the manager walked inside.
Mike Schmidt was leaning back in his chair, sweat dripping from his forehead. The guy on the phone had warned him, but he hadn't been prepared when that fox ran down the hallway.
"Mike?" John said from the doorway. "You okay?"
Mike looked up. "Yeah... yeah, I guess," he stammered. "It really is freaky, man. I saw the... the old fox from the Pirate's Cove -"
"How?" John frowned. "He's been deactivated." John studied Mike's face. "Come on, I'll get you a coffee. I can't believe you're taking this so hard."
"No coffee for me," Mike said, regaining some of his composure. "I drink three or four cups of the stuff before going on this shift." Not that I need it, he added silently.
"Jeez!" John laughed. "Well, I'll get you a good breakfast, and then you should get some sleep. You're almost halfway through your week, man!"
The voices of the multitude subsided and a single voice was heard coming from the office - the voice of the man on the phone during the third night.
Freddy was actually the first to move - turning around and folding his arms at the two others, glaring slightly. "It's the third night."
Chica grimaced but said nothing. Bonnie stared back impassively.
"That means I'm going after him now too."
"We know," Bonnie said in a long-suffering voice. "I'd suggest you go easy on it, though." He motioned to the tattered purple curtain in the corner. "Give Foxy a chance. You have him all to yourself if the power goes out, remember, so don't get greedy."
Freddy twisted his mouth but nodded in agreement.
Bonnie moved first, approaching the curtain and calling in softly, "Foxy? You awake?"
There was a sound of assent through the fabric. "Uh-huh."
"You planning on attacking tonight?"
"More than ever," came the grim voice, "but I'm gonna take it easy this time. You know, lull him into a false sense of security? Or at least have him focus on you guys and forget about - rrrrrrr - about me."
"Camera?"
"Rrrrrrrrrr - yes. Don't worry about me, Bonnie. I can do this."
Bonnie was struck by the eager determination in Foxy's voice. The old robot rarely felt excited about anything anymore. He usually kept to himself in the old curtain, sometimes singing old pirate songs to amuse himself - dum dum diddy dum dum diddy dum was often heard in the lonely hours of the night. Bonnie found it comforting but sad.
"All right," he said, "but remember, if the power goes out, Freddy gets him all to himself."
"Go freak him out, Bonnie!"
The rabbit smiled slightly. "Yes, sir!" he recited, an old memory of the happier past.
The amusement vanished when he heard the soft child's giggle coming from down the hall. That sound - that sound meant -
He ran to the stage, waving his arms at Chica. "Come on! Come on!" he screamed. "He woke the yellow one! We have to get him! Come on!"
Panic crossed her features and she leapt off the stage, rushing toward the east hallway.
A robotic warbling sound was heard from the office, and Bonnie knew they were too late. Golden Freddy, forgotten long past even Foxy, had been roused. A shocked scream came from the office, and Bonnie grit his teeth as he tried to move faster -
The warbling was abruptly cut off. Bonnie skidded to a stop, halfway down the corridor, and stared at the open door in confusion. He never knew Golden Freddy could be counteracted!
"Bonnie?" he heard Chica's scared whisper from the other side. "Where'd he go?"
"I dunno," Bonnie whispered back, fear creeping up on him. "Is the guard still alive? And if not, what happened to the yellow one?"
"Let's go check," Chica said in an even quieter voice. Bonnie understood her trepidation. No one knew anything about Golden Freddy, except that the fifth child was imprisoned inside. Where the real suit was, why it appeared in the west hall corner, why it couldn't move, was all a mystery. The only thing they knew for sure about it was that it drove people insane just to look at it.
Bonnie eased an eye into the doorway and saw the night guard, white-faced and sweating but alive. Unfortunately, the guard saw him too and yelped as the light turned on to illuminate the looming rabbit. The door slammed and Bonnie grumbled under his breath.
"Just trying to see if you're still sane," he mumbled.
He heard a low laugh and turned to see who was making fun of him when he realized something was wrong with the front stage. Frowning, he walked forward out of the hall until he stood in the open and saw what was wrong.
Freddy had left already.
"Freddy!" he hissed under his breath.
"What?" came the sound of a disembodied voice.
Bonnie jumped, startled, and looked around. "Where are you?!"
"Over here," Freddy's voice came from a shapeless shadow.
Bonnie looked and saw two little pinpricks of light to mark the bear's eyes. He put a hand on his chest. "Don't scare me like that!"
A set of white teeth appeared. "If I can scare you, imagine what I'll do the guard!"
"You're having fun, I know," Bonnie said, raising an eyebrow. "But the laugh kind of gives it away."
"I can't help it," the smile widened further. Bonnie knew Freddy really well, but that smile sent the feeling of shivers down his back. "I am loving this."
"Yeah, but he'll see you coming if you make noise!"
As if to accentuate the point, Foxy started dum dum diddy dum dum diddy dum - ing from inside his curtain.
"Foxy!" Bonnie hissed, glaring. "The song!"
"What about it?" Foxy's voice sounded sullen.
"He can hear it! You're not exactly making yourself subtle!"
Bonnie heard another slow laugh and turned to find the pinpricks of light gone. They'd moved to the bathrooms.
"Something wrong?" Freddy's low voice came out.
Bonnie crossed his arms. "That's the girls restroom."
"So what? It's dark."
"Chica will be mad."
"Chica doesn't use it anymore, nitwit."
"She'll protest. Old habits die hard."
"Evidently not. Why are you still here, talking to me, when Chica's doing all the work scaring that guard?"
Bonnie glared but left anyway.
Just before he reached the corridor entrance, he heard a frustrated howl. Foxy came trudging back to the curtain, ranting "That was my fastest exit yet! He's too fast, dammit!"
"Just keep trying, Foxy," Bonnie tried encouraging him, but was answered by a snort and a yank of the curtain closed.
He checked the time; it was 4 AM. A giddy shiver ran down his back. They could do this. They had time.
Chica walked out of the east corridor. "Well, I gave it my best shot, but he's too fast." She caught sight of Freddy in the girl's bathroom and glared. "Hey! What the heck are you doing in the girl's bathroom?!"
"Told you," Bonnie muttered.
"It's dark," Freddy insisted. "Go distract him, I'll be here."
"Let's flank him," Bonnie decided. "Get at him from both sides."
"Let me know when I'm clear!" Foxy yelled as he stuck his head out of the curtain. "I want another shot at him."
"I'm going, Chica! Come on!"
Bonnie swiftly closed the distance between him and the office door. He felt more excited than he'd been in a long time. Could this be it? Everyone was zeroing in on the guard. Could they finally get him? Would they finally be at peace?
He leaned in and leered at the guard inside. After staring at the camera, he looked up and turned on the door light. "Gah!" he blurted before closing the door.
Bonnie was unperturbed. One of us will get you sooner or later, he thought. You can't have perfect reflexes all the time.
"Psst! Bonnie!" Foxy leaned out, trying to grab Bonnie's attention. "Give me a heads-up when I'm clear, okay?"
Bonnie pointed at the door. "I'm gonna try again. When you hear that door close, I'll stand aside and you rush out. He can't keep his door closed for too long."
Foxy jumped out of the curtain and poised to rush. If he'd been a real fox, he'd be slavering. "I can do this," he growled. "I can do this!"
Bonnie stood under the light in the storage closet for a few seconds, letting the guard ease a little, before leaning out and sliding next to the door.
"Make a funny face this time!" Foxy hissed.
Bonnie stepped forward and gave the guard a funny face.
"Holy -" The door slammed down and Bonnie jumped out of the way.
"Wait one second!" he called to Foxy. A heartbeat passed... and the door slid open. "Now!"
Foxy took off down the hall. Bonnie slid back into the storage closet to let him pass. His running footsteps down the hall thumped past the closet, his loose jaw flapping, as he reached the door -
The guard screamed and shut it, just before Foxy could get in.
"DAMMIT!" he yelled, pounding on the door. "DAMMIT! DAMMIT!"
Bonnie felt a quick flash of disappointment. "You can try again!"
"There's no time!" Chica appeared in the dining hall. "It's nearly 6 AM!"
"No!" Bonnie growled. "We can do this. We have to do this!"
Far off, Freddy laughed his derison.
"I'M DONE TONIGHT!" Foxy screamed and stormed back to his Pirate Cove.
"Hush!" Bonnie called, and sneaked to the door.
The guard was glued to the monitor. As he looked up to check the door on the right, Bonnie finally saw his chance and took it. He slid inside and stood behind the chair. The guard leaned over to click on the leftmost door lights, and was met instead by a clickick.
He paused, confused.
The door must have detected an animatronic entry, Bonnie thought, frustrated. It won't close or work the lights.
The guard reached up and clickick'd the switch again.
Bonnie's patience was at an end. He was so, so close. Come on, he thought. Look down at the camera. Just for a minute. Look down.
Another puzzled clickick.
And, to Bonnie's horror, the clock was chiming 6 AM.
He roared his disbelief and rage as he swooshed out from behind the guard's chair and took off running down the west hall. "No!" he screamed as he ran. "No! No, no, no, no, no! I was so close! How could you do this to me?"
He was shivering manically as he climbed the show stage. Freddy was there too, in the process of turning around and resuming a benign expression. Chica held out Bonnie's guitar - Bonnie took it, resisting the urge to slam it against the ground in eternal frustration - and the lights came on as the place opened.
Mike was still fiddling with the switch as John came in.
"Wheeew!" John wafted the air away with his hands. "You sweat a lot, don't you Mike?"
"Tonight was horrible," Mike groaned. He looked up. "The door locked up. Why does it do that?"
"Oh, it locks up so that if an animatronic passes through, the door can't close on any robot parts and crush them," John said reasonably. "Repairs are expensive, you know."
Mike's eyebrows clenched. "Then... Then... Why'd it lock up for me tonight?"
John shrugged, unconcerned. "No idea. Maybe a glitch. I'll take a look at it today." He sniffed again. "This time, man, I think I'm gonna take you to a shower first before we have breakfast."
"Yeah," Mike muttered, fresh sweat breaking out as he realized his close call. "Sure."
The robots eyes were switched on at the very stroke of midnight. Bonnie, still seething with anger, threw his guitar across the dining hall. It crashed into a table and scattered party hats everywhere. "AHHHHHHGH!" he yelled.
"What, Bonnie?" Freddy and Chica looked downright frightened.
"I WAS RIGHT BEHIND HIM!" he roared. "I WAS RIGHT - DAMNED - BEHIND - HIM! AND THE SIX AM HAD TO CHIME!!"
"So close," Chica whispered. If she had had a face, she'd be pale. "And we're running out of time. It's the fourth night."
"We should have gotten him that first night," Bonnie snarled. "If you'd believed me, we would have gotten him the first night. He's getting better. We're... we're so close. So close!"
Chica was looking at him askance during this speech.
"What?!" he snapped.
"Well..." she hesitated. "I thought that we... we had gotten him already, last week."
"Well, evidently not!"
"But - but if we got him last week, and he's back now..." she paused again and looked down at the ground. "Then what good will it be... to get him now?"
"What do you mean?" Bonnie felt some of her own uneasiness trickle down his spine.
"If he's gonna keep coming back... why does it matter if we... if we succeed or not? He comes back anyway." Chica seemed to be struggling with her words. The rest of the pizzeria was silent.
"What are you talking about?!" Bonnie snapped, his fire back. "Even if he is... I don't know, immortal - I don't care. He's a killer, Chica. He killed us. He deserves what's coming to him. And if it doesn't remove him forever, then we'll just kill him over and over again until he gives up! And if you won't, I will!"
Bonnie stormed into the backstage closet to get away from Chica's shocked expression. No matter how much hate they held for him, they never really talked about... killing. In Bonnie's heart, he was still only eleven years old, and he was the oldest of the children. They talked about getting him, removing him, but it rarely hit them that what they were doing was killing a person. Just like a person had killed them.
Thoughts of death chased his wrath away, and Bonnie sagged, staring at the empty eyes of the old masks backstage. Tossed aside, abandoned, used... forgotten. Just like him. Only, he was the one capable to caring. These masks didn't care. Didn't rage at the One Man responsible for it all. Didn't feel scared of their own depths of wretched hate. Didn't feel their hearts breaking when the past decades weighed down upon it, like rocks crushing a helpless animal, where no one heard its cries for mercy, the cries pleading for it all to end.
All Bonnie wanted was peace. He wanted it with every fiber of his being. He wanted this miserable, metal, hateful existence to be over. He wanted to know how. And he didn't. He only hoped that... killing... the murderer would fix it.
Looking around at the masks again, he felt a fresh surge of resolve. He would do it, if only to keep these masks from knowing the pain he felt.
Bonnie would not allow this man to kill another innocent soul.
He rummaged around the back and found a tattered Freddy costume. Perfect.
When he emerged, he found Chica and Freddy already gone. Freddy's eyes glared out from his Dining Hall shadow. Foxy's head was poking out and glaring down the corridor, chest heaving. Every so often, he'd shudder and growl, but it didn't affect him as it did the first night.
"Doing alright, Foxy?"
"He's on that camera all the time now," he snarled. "I can hardly move!"
"You can do it," Bonnie encouraged. "We have to get him tonight!"
"Bonnie!" Chica hissed at him from the other side of the pizzeria. Bonnie frowned at the unprecedented terror in her voice and walked over. "What's wrong?"
Her eyes were as wide as the costume allowed. "It's - it's him!"
"Who??" Had the yellow one returned? But he never came on the fourth night -
"Oh, just - just come and look!" She disappeared down the east hall.
Bonnie leaned in to look. Everything looked the same - cobwebby lights, old ragged posters peeling off of the walls, the camera in the corner blinking red. Chica was standing in front of the old posters. A low moan slipped from her throat.
"What?" Bonnie asked, irritated now more than scared.
She turned. "I swear - I swear I saw -" she gestured at the old Let's Party! posters. "These were... they were changed."
"Changed to what??"
"The crying child," she whispered. "It was... it looked like the Puppet."
Chills crept down Bonnie's spine. "But... why was it here? And why aren't the posters here anymore?"
"I don't know!" Chica said, frustrated. "But I saw them. I know I saw them. I know it was the Puppet."
Bonnie hesitated. He remembered the first night, when the night guard had been discovered to return...
"I believe you, I guess," Bonnie sighed at last, reluctantly. "But what does it mean?"
Freddy's laugh was heard, far-off.
"He's in the girl's bathroom again," Chica said, making a face like she wanted to wrinkle her nose. "That is so wrong." She looked back at Bonnie. "I don't know what it means. But... I wonder if the guard saw them."
Bonnie considered, nervousness curdling inside his stomach. "Do you think the Puppet is trying to... trying to tell the guard about our... our souls inside these robots?"
"Maybe," she looked troubled. "But why?"
"The Puppet hated him more than anyone else," he murmured. "Does the Puppet want him to feel guilty? To realize what he'd done? To know why we're... we're killing him before we do?"
Her eyes widened and she hissed, "Don't say that word! I hate that word!"
"Sorry," Bonnie said automatically, without much remorse. "But do you think that's what the Puppet is trying to do?"
Chica glanced at the clock. "It's only 4 AM. We have time to get him tonight. Stop bugging me and go!" She shooed him off.
Foxy was tightly wound, his robot joints practically creaking with tension. He barely winced when the camera passed over him now. In his hand, the one without the hook, he held a marker a child had left behind one day. He wrote two words on the back of the "out of order" sign and allowed himself a brief grin. It didn't hurt to have a little bit of fun, right?
He was poised to sprint, his hook raised in the air next to the sign as he waited for an opportunity. After a long pause, the camera trained on him again and he stayed stock-still. When the burning went away, he hesitated a moment longer before running. His hook caught on the sign and spun it around.
The guard opened up the camera to Pirate's Cove and saw the empty curtain with the sign now saying "IT'S ME."
The door slammed down and Foxy pounded on it in rage.
"STOP - IT - I - DID - THAT - ONE - SO - WELL!" he yelled.
"Keep trying, Foxy," Bonnie whispered behind him. "You've gotten so close. You'll make it."
Foxy trudged back to Pirate's Cove, his ears drooping. Bonnie shook his head morosely.
The guard opened the door and turned the light on to see Bonnie's face glaring back at him. He barely yelped this time as he shut the door again.
Freddy laughed again, and as Bonnie trod back to the dining hall, he heard the bear's Toreador March coming from the kitchen.
"Freddy!" he hissed in the doorway of the kitchen. It was pitch-black inside - the lights only worked when the company brought a repairman in, which was never. Cooks relied on daylight from windows and lights from the oven and candlelight - all of which were absent at night. Just as well the camera didn't work there anyway. "The noise!"
"What about it?" Freddy whispered back, sounding irritated.
"It's drawing attention!"
"The guard can't do anything about it," Freddy argued. "And it helps me move around the kitchen without running into anything, like Chica does. You'd think she was fixing herself a midnight snack, the noise she makes."
Bonnie grimaced, but conceded. "It's 5 AM. Whatever you want to do, do it soon."
Abruptly, Bonnie heard again the thump, thump, thump from the west hallway, the sign that Foxy had failed again. He wandered back to see the fox twitching, his eyes narrowed in a soundless snarl.
"Wait a minute," Bonnie held him back a minute. He leaned in the now-open doorway and glanced at the power meter next to the night guard before the doors shut again. An irritated sound of "That rabbit just does not leave me alone!" came through the door.
"I'm a bunny," Bonnie muttered. "Foxy, the power went down 6% when you hit the door!"
"Really?!"
"Yeah! So be careful the next time you go - if the power goes out, Freddy has him all to himself!"
"Damn!" Foxy growled from his curtain. "How much power did he have?"
"Only 8%."
"So you want me to just sit here the rest of the night?! Not happening!" He shoved the curtain closed behind him.
The shiiiiik of the curtain hangers was accompanied by the sound of the power going down.
The remaining lights all went off, and Bonnie heard the sound of the doors being lifted.
Breathing hard, Bonnie felt Freddy brush past him. The bear was practically invisible, with only the pinpricks of his eyes lighting the way. Disappointment curdled inside Bonnie, but also a black hunger - he wanted to watch the guard. He wanted to watch the end of his hate.
Chica was pulling on his arm next to him. They walked down the east hall and leaned carefully in the window.
"Where is he?" Chica whispered.
"The guard?"
"Freddy."
"I don't know," Bonnie hissed. "He should be here by now."
The guard's eyes were wide as pizzas. Bonnie could hear him breathing hard as he looked around the dark office. There was still a soft light coming from somewhere in the room.
Abruptly, the silence was broken by Toreador March. Bonnie could see Freddy's flickering eyes across the window and he bared his teeth.
"Show-off," Chica whispered.
"He's going to miss his chance!" Bonnie whispered back, frustrated, itching to run inside and take care of the guard himself.
There was a fizzt, and the bleary light flickered out. All was silent. Bonnie and Chica had stopped their artificial breathing. The guard had frozen. Then, the soft pad of footsteps were heard.
So close.
So close.
So. Close.
And the bell rang.
It was 6 AM.
Chica had to grab Bonnie's arm and drag him behind her to get back to the stage. The daytime lights came on and Foxy shut the gap in the curtains to block out the light. Freddy came rushing out of the office, his mouth open in a soundless snarl, the most hostile Bonnie had ever seen him. Chica shoved him over to his side of the stage, nearly tripping him over his own guitar, before picking up her own cupcake and resuming her blank expression.
Before they froze, Bonnie and Freddy looked at each other and glared. Not angry with each other, but desperate.
Then they froze, and the pizzeria doors opened.
Mike Schmidt stared straight ahead, a cold sweat running down his back. The lights had come back on, but the Toreador March still rang through his head, the coldly flashing lights of the animatronic eyes burned into his own.
"Mike?"
He screamed - slapping a hand over his mouth instantly as he figured out who was there. "God, John! He's dead!"
"Who's dead?" John was looking concerned.
"The guy on the phone! He recorded a call, and - he died during it. He's dead!"
John frowned. "I doubt it. What would he have died from?"
"The animatronics!" Mike snapped. "They've been moving since the first night, and the guy on the phone said they'd try to kill you! They tried to kill me!"
John was edging away from Mike now. "That's impossible. What are you talking about, Mike? Are you okay?"
"No!"
John looked behind, then stepped out of the office. "I'll wait for you outside. Let you calm down a bit, yeah?" He left.
Mike took a deep breath, trying to control himself. John, obviously, would not believe him. Mike couldn't get fired the first week of his work, but he wasn't sure if he could survive the rest of the week. Why were those robots so aggressive?
When he had calmed himself down, he left his chair, staggering slightly from legs that had gone from "falling asleep" to "fight or flight" constantly throughout the night, and went to meet John outside.
The robot’s eyes followed him to the door. He tried to ignore it.
*Note: Going through this now, several years later, I think it's a little silly (as all fanfiction is, honestly) but I like what I had going for the characterizations. I wrote the beginning and end of the fifth night, though I never came up with something to round out the middle and I don't think I ever will. The final section I realize is a little overdone, but I wanted something a bit warmer than pure ruthlessness to end this story.
At the time I wrote this, there were only two games out and the trailer for the third game.*
Bonnie had been trembling inside all day. He was pretty sure his singing was slightly off-key, but he didn't care - he'd been concentrating on not losing control. They didn't need another Bite.
When the pizzeria shut down for the night, Bonnie was already shaking. His control was nearly at an end.
"Steady, Bonnie," Chica murmured.
"Steady?" Bonnie hissed, hearing the metallic robot tones in his voice more than ever before. He indifferently tossed the guitar aside and looked down at his twitching hands. "We have one night left. One night. Six hours. And if we don't make it... If we don't make it..."
A strange sound was coming from the office. Bonnie paused, confused, as he tried to make sense of the noises... and when they suddenly made sense for him, he turned to Freddy and glared.
The bear shrugged. "Well, after we got the last guy, the phone was right there. What's wrong with a little fun?"
"So you prank-called the guard?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
Chica sniggered.
Bonnie sighed, but he couldn't resist a small smile crossing his face before returning to serious. "I had to work hard to keep from losing control today. We have to get him today. We have to."
Freddy's expression sobered. "I know," he said, "I'm sorry I dawdled last night. It's just so hard to see him, and my lights aren't working so well. Toreador March lights up my face the most."
*some filler I didn't write*
And then it happened. He put up the camera and stared hard at it.
Bonnie moved smoothly and stood in front of the guard's face, breathing hard. So close. All he had to do was lower the monitor.
The man was glaring at the monitor screen, a frown scrawled across his brow. A drop of sweat slid down his nose. His pupils were fully dilated, and Bonnie saw the tenseness in his hands.
Bonnie was close to shaking as well. His tight grip on control - on his sanity - slipped ever so slightly and the robot broke. A child moaned, high-pitched and raspy, a plea issuing from mechanical insides, hateful and frightened and confused.
Somewhere in the depths of a shattered mind, somewhere in the forgotten memories of the past, the echo of such a fearful moan clawed its way out of a human child's vocal chords as he watched his death stalk closer with a smile on its blood-stained cheeks.
The building around them seemed to have shrunk, as all the walls leaned in and loomed over the two figures in the office, one flesh and one metal, one desperate and one loathing, one living and one uncertain, one scared out of his mind of an untimely death, one scared out of his mind of a terrible existence able to continue. Both afraid. Both pleading. Both close to losing their grip on reality. Another moaning rasp creaked through the robot's mechanical parts.
And then.
And then it was 6 AM.
And then the chimes were sounded.
And then the lights came back on.
And then Bonnie was dragged back to the stage by Chica and Freddy.
And then it was all over.
It was all over.
It was all over.
Mike Schmidt rested his head in his hands and fought off tears.
The last few men walked out the door, and the place was quiet again.
Bonnie slumped. He couldn't keep it back anymore. The burning wrath, the snap of all reality, the crashing down of every plan had numbed to a lump of despair that rested in the center of his soul. There was nothing that could be done. It was all he could to remain standing - all he could to just give up on everyone, to deactivate forever and just lie, decrepit, in a corner until the very metal of his body crumbled to dust.
"We failed," he whispered, feeling burning in his eyes like his metal body was trying to cry.
Chica fell back to the floor and curled up, her head in her arms. Freddy didn't fall, but he looked down and glowered at the floor from under his hat.
Foxy stumbled out of his curtain, he jaw flapping. "Chica -" he choked. "Chica, did anyone get him last night?"
Bonnie answered for her, shaking his head, leaning on his guitar like a cane.
Foxy stared, then his animatronic chest started heaving. "No. No! Nooooo!!" He turned and tossed a table from the dining hall across the room, scattering paper hats everywhere. "We had to get him. We had to get him! It was so... We had to! Why didn't we?? Why didn't you?!"
Screaming, he grabbed Freddy's microphone out of his limp hands, cracked it over his knee and threw it into Backstage. There were crashes and clanging sounds as costumes fell off shelves and tables. Foxy's voice was beginning to glitch as he raved, "You all are useless! How could we have missed him?! Now he's gonna keep killing and - and - the eyes keep burning. They'll keep burning in me - and others - and - and -"
He was in the process of violently tearing up a tablecloth with his claws when he abruptly stopped and fell to the ground.
Bonnie and Chica were down in the dining hall in a second, scared of a breakdown, and found Foxy holding his head in his hands and sobbing.
"I want my mom," he whispered. His voice had changed from the rough pirate rasp to the far-off echo of a scared little boy. "I want my mommy."
Chica made a sound like a broken, hitched little sob. She kneeled next to him and held him in her arms. "I want mommy too."
Watching them, Bonnie felt himself transported to the past - watching two little children, the last to die, holding each other as the knife approached. "I want my mommy," the phantoms said, "I want mommy."
Some of the total despair softened and became sorrow.
He hesitated, then walked over and laid his arms across them. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
Feeling a hand on his back, Bonnie turned and was startled to see Freddy, usually so aloof, placing a comforting bear paw on Chica.
With all of them together, Bonnie abruptly felt very small and afraid in the large world. There was no one else in the entire world that knew these children were here and needed love. They were all alone in the dark, scary, huge world.
But, as the thought entered his head, another one came in - turning the rest his despair into a black determination.
He laid hands on Chica and Foxy, making them look up at him.
"He will come back." he said grimly.
"He always does."
Looking up with anger and deep hatred in his heart, he stared into space - into the future, he imagined, straight into that murderer's soul, as he vowed to destroy the man who had ruined their lives for so many decades - he said, "We have a place for him."
In his mind's eye, he saw a golden costume, modeled the same as he, lying decrepit, desolated in a room where no one could go...
The next day was dreary. There were about thirteen children morosely nibbling on pizza while their parents watched them carefully while pretending to be absorbed in the off-tune song played by the animatronic band onstage.
One little boy got up and walked over to his mom, watching his two younger sisters.
"Mommy," he said, "why are they sad?"
"What, sweety?" she said absentmindedly.
He tugged on her sleeve and got her attention. "Why are they all sad?"
She looked at him with a faintly puzzled expression. "I don't know. I didn't realize they were sad. They look happy to me, honey."
"They seem sad," he said, frowning slightly at the animatronics. The mother looked up and frowned too - they did seem more... muted than usual.
It was almost 4:00. She checked her watch and patted him on the back. "Finish up your pizza, sweety. We have to start heading home."
He didn't seem to notice the touch, still staring at the robots. Then, he suddenly brightened. "I'm gonna go give them a hug," he declared. He started running up to the stage in the direction of the Bonnie robot.
"No!" the mother cried out, suddenly alarmed - remembering an incident when she was a little girl, that child bitten in the head by a robot - and suddenly, she thought she saw Bonnie's eyes start to retract, until there was nothing left but dark holes and pinpricks of distant light, and blood started running out of his eyes and between his teeth -
She chased her child, who was in the process of climbing the show stage. "No, sweety! Get back!"
She was too slow. He climbed the stage, ran over to the purple rabbit and threw his arms around him. "I love you, Bonnie."
Bonnie froze. All the mother could see was her child, right next to the huge robot, as she climbed the stage to reach him, she couldn't even hear the band anymore as she waited for those jaws to swing down -
The robot twitched, ever so slightly. Jerkily, Bonnie's arms dropped the guitar to the side and gently embraced the small child. "I - love - you - too," it said in a halting voice, oddly different from the usual happy singing sound. The mother stared at the animatronic in astonishment, wondering how she had seen the disturbing things on his face.
The pizzeria was completely still and quiet. The other animatronics had all stopped moving, and the children had frozen with pizza in their mouths.
Then, abruptly, as if by some hidden signal, the children all jumped up and ran up the stage. Parents called out for them to stop - uselessly, and halfhearted anyway. Four ran to Chica, three went to Freddy, and three other children ran to Bonnie.
"I love you, Freddy."
"I love you, Chica."
And, slowly, haltingly, the other robots carefully hugged them back.
"I - love - you - too."
The manager was amazed, staring with his mouth dropped open.
One little child had hesitated, glancing at the empty Pirate's Cove curtain. He walked over to the manager and said, "Excuse me? Is Foxy still in his Pirate's Cove?"
The manager seemed to shake himself and say quickly, "Well, yes, but it's dangerous, Foxy hasn't been -"
It was too late. The child ran to the curtain and shoved it aside. A muffled "I love you, Foxy" was heard inside. Bonnie couldn't hear anything else, but he imagined a raspy echo of another seven-year-old child's voice replying "I - love - you - too."
The dark hatred in his heart seemed to melt a little bit. Slowly, steadily, it was replaced by determination. They were not just fighting for themselves - they now had someone to fight for. Bonnie would not let these sweet, loving children share his fate. The killer must leave. The killer must die.
The manager sent a letter to the head of the Fazbear company the next day.
"This is the last straw. If these animatronics continue to act out of their programming, we could have another incident like '87. For the patron's safety, we have to completely close as soon as possible. Scrapping the robots would cost too much. My recommendation is that we immediately close and condemn the building."
