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Description
I quickly rushed off the stage, moving as fast as these animatronic legs can possibly go, trying my best not to stumble and trip over the three-step stairs leading off the stage. I awkwardly shuffled through the abundance of chairs and tables in the dining hall, like an obstacle course in gym class. Moving too quickly, I've managed to get my right foot under one of the table legs, causing me to trip and fall to my knees. If I was able to curse under my breath, I would. I pushed myself back up, hearing the rusted screeches of the suit's mechanical limbs grind together as I bend myself back into an upright position. After that little clumsy episode, I immediately made my way towards the security office. I was expecting myself to catch the security guard by surprise, and hit that freedom button, where I would finally have the chance to escape from this wretched place. I scuttled out of the dining hall, and into the east hallway, hopefully ready to make one final pushed effort. However, just before I took my first step into the east hallway, I heard a loud clanking noise at the end of the hall. I froze in place, almost certain I heard a similar noise from earlier this day, and every time before. Confused, I slowly walked towards the source of the noise, and found the metal door leading to the security room, closed shut. Following the closing of the metal door, the light in the east hallway flickered on, illuminating my presence.

I peeked through the glass window showing the interior of the office, and I was faced with quite a sight. The security guard was staring right back at me, with a look of boundless fear. He was grasping a phone with his right white-knuckled hand, his mouth speaking into it. I pressed my hands against the window, gazing upon the horrified look the guard gives me every once in a while, focusing on both the phone and I. It didn't take long before the guard hung the phone up, and focused his attention at the door parallel to the one I'm at, occasionally looking at a monitor from time to time. I assume he wouldn't be opening the door for me anytime soon.

Just when I was about to turn around and leave, the security guard scurried to the door parallel to me, and switched on the flickering light on the west hall. And to both the guard and I's surprise, Bonnie was a couple of feet from the door, ready to enter the archway. Almost like it was in slow motion, the security guard flew off of his chair, and made a quick dive at the door button. Right when Bonnie's left hand was just through the doorway, the door slammed shut, giving the purple bunny barely enough time to yank the hand out. Once the guard got control of his bearings, he pressed the light switch to see if Bonnie was still there. Evidently enough, she was not. The guard sighed in relief, only it ended abruptly when he noticed that I was still present at the window, and moved his gaze to the monitor once more. With nothing more happening, I scuttled back to the dining hall in temporary defeat.

"Obtaining my true freedom is going to be a lot trickier than I thought...” I thought to myself as I entered the dining hall once more. It didn't take long before I noticed something strange about the area. Weren't there a bunch of chairs knocked over, thanks to my doing? I stopped in the middle of the dining hall, and looked around me, tilting my giant of a head in confusion. All the chairs that I seemed to have knocked over, all the tables that have shifted and slightly turned from me bumping into them, all of it appeared to have somehow move back into their original positions. It was almost as if I never barraged my way through them. Out of the twenty-plus years I've been here, I haven't seen anything like this before.

I faced myself towards the stage, seeing Bonnie and Chica remaining stationary upon the elevated platform, appearing as if they haven't moved an inch. It was impossible, though, since I saw Bonnie at the west hall doorway with my own two mechanical eyes! So why are they back on the stage?

“Do they not care about freedom? Have they given up already?" I thought to myself some more, "Or are they too brain-dead to understand the meaning of an opportunity?”

Right when I finished that thought, the two animatronics immediately shifted their heads to lock eyes with mine. I almost lost my footing when I took a step back in surprise. These suits are insultingly clunky.

"Freddy called us brain-dead," an unknown female voice formed in my mind, "should we take offense to that?"

"That's not Freddy," another female voice chimed in within my mind, "but there's no point. It wouldn't solve our problem."

I looked around the room with nervousness resting upon my soul, wondering where the two voices came from, "Who said that?" I thought, relying on my thinking to find out who's here with me, as much of a stretch that was.

When I turned back to face the stage, Bonnie was just a few inches away from my face. I jumped back, startled by the sudden presence of the purple rabbit. Bonnie lifted up her right index finger, "I did," the second female voice echoed within my sub-conscious, "and so did Chica, or at least, the soul trapped within Chica."

I attempted to speak aloud, but ended up using the voice module within the Freddy suit, "Welcome to Freddy Frazbear's Pizza!" Freddy's voice module blurted out. I frantically covered my gaping hole of a mouth until the authentic voice finished its pre-recorded speech, feeling a sense of embarrassment deep within my soul.

Bonnie placed her right hand over her eyes and shook her head, then proceeds to disappear in the blink of an eye. I looked around until I saw Bonnie over at one of the corners of the dining hall, "Well, there goes the element of surprise. Not that you storming off to the office right away helped us one bit," the second voice – in which I learned was Bonnie's – berated me, "and also not to mention you screwing up my attempt at getting the guard."

I rotated my head to where Bonnie was standing in front of me, then back to her, "How did you do that?" I tilted my head once again, ignoring the insults thrown at me, "How did you... ya know, moved so quickly? It was almost instantaneously!"

Bonnie rotated her head at the stage, eyeing at the camera stationed there, "First off, get over here. You're in the camera's view," she scolded until I clumsily scooted over to her, "and secondly, that's none of your business." she said as she placed her crusty, worn index finger on my chest.

"Aw, no need to be rude to Mr. Fazbear, Bonnie!" the first voice – which I found out to be Chica's – complained, right before the animatronic Chica joined Bonnie and I in the corner. "He was only just curious." she chattered, placing both of her hands on my suit's shoulders from behind.

Bonnie stared at Chica with the only expression the suit could do: that stupid look of a grin, "What excuse can you possibly make to NOT be rude to this newly murdered?" Bonnie exclaimed, "He blew my cover! We'll never get into that room at this rate!"

Chica shuffled towards Bonnie, and placed her hands on Bonnie's mouth to close it shut, "But see here, you funny bunny; the night is not yet over! We still have a chance to say hello to the hard-working guard. We just gotta be patient."

"I've had thirty years of patience, Chica," Bonnie snapped, "And it doesn't help that this newly murdered could have maybe messed up the only chance!"

Newly murdered? Is she referring to me, or to Chica?

Almost on cue, Bonnie rotated herself to face me, "Of course newly murdered means you! How thick can you possibly be?" she responded harshly, "I doubt you even remember how you died."

My mind became stung, wincing in pain at the words echoing within, no thanks to Bonnie. I want to say that I don't remember, that I have completely forgotten the traumatizing experience of... dying. But if I were to say I have no memory of the sort, I would be lying through my metaphorical teeth. I remember that day crystal clear, it was all coming back to me in an instant. I suddenly remembered the day I shed my last breath... a child's death, something that no living being should endure.

* * *

It was a blazing hot Friday during the summer, the last weekend before I went into the second grade. As a last good-bye for the last few days of that summer, my parents decided to take me to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. I was simply ecstatic, bouncing off the walls in excitement, running to the family car while my parents smiled as they calmly walked towards the rickety van. I guess you could say I was just like every other kid that I see walk into Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.

After a short drive, my parents parked into the seemingly overcrowded parking lot, extremely lucky to find a spot within the cesspool of cars, trucks, and the occasional bicycle. I hopped out of the car, and made my way inside the building as I could faintly hear my parents calling out my name and telling me not to go too far without them. When I entered Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, I was greeted with an awfully happy female worker, whose job was to stamp a random symbol as a way of keeping tabs on the kids, in case they get lost.

"Why hello there! Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza! What stamp would you like: Freddy Fazbear himself, Chica the chicken, Bonnie the bunny, or Foxy-" the female worker arches her index finger to make it in the shape of a hook while closing one eye, "-the pirate fox of the legendary Pirate Cove, ARRR!"

While I would expect the parents to simply smile at the enthusiasm, I was absolutely enthralled by her performance, giggling like an idiot. But despite her wonderful impression of a pirate, I chose Freddy, my favorite mascot. The female worker stamped the back of my hand, revealing to be a brown-colored stamp showing Freddy's head, and let's me go ahead to the dining hall.

I had a blast there that day. Sitting with my friends, enjoying a nice, hot slice of Freddy's four-cheese pizza, sipping their wondrous root beer float, visiting Foxy at Pirate Cove, singing along with the animatronics during showtime... It was the best final day of that summer. Who would've thought that it would turn out to be my final day period.

I was walking back to my table from Pirate Cove when I saw something enter the door to the backstage off the corner of my left eye. For a second, I thought it was Freddy Fazbear, but when I looked over to the stage, he was right with the other two animatronics, interacting with one another and laughing. I looked back at the backstage door, almost certain I saw Freddy. I looked around at the other kids, and they didn't seem to notice the figure I saw, either too busy eating their food, or interacting with the animatronics. Could it be that there's another super secret Freddy no one knows about? With my curiosity at the highest peak, I snuck towards the backstage door.

When I arrived inside the room, leaving the door ajar, I was greeted with what should have given me the instinct to leave. Inside the slightly dimly lit room were several heads of the familiar animatronics laying on shelves, with and without eyes, probably used as replacements. A large metal table sits right in the middle of the room, with an endoskeleton sitting on one of the edges, slumped over. The scent within this room gave off a weird odor, something I have never smelled before. It was like a mix of rotten milk, and iron. In front of me by only a few meters was a Freddy Fazbear head replacement, looking right at me, but with different eyes than the others. It almost looked human-like, with the pupils and the bloodshot-patterned veins. I crept closer to the Freddy head, noticing that the smell became stronger as I moved closer to it. I should have turned away and ran as fast as I could, but my curiosity was too much for a kid like me. I slowly reached for the head replacement, and picked it up. As I was holding the head, I heard a slight dripping noise that caused my ears to perk up, and something landing on my shoes. I leaned over to the right to see below me, and froze, dropping Freddy's head in the process, lightly bouncing a couple of times before stopping to the left of me.

It was blood.

I spun around to face the door, and made a run for it. But my shoes were slicked with blood, and I ended up slipping and falling on my face, just inches away from the door. I frantically tried to get myself up, but the blood made it difficult to stand on my legs, much like trying to stand on ice.

Once I've managed to balance myself on my feet, I made my attempt to swing open the door. However, before I could reach for the handle, the door quickly closed with a loud bang. I struggled with the handle, but it was stuck in place, no matter how hard I pushed or pulled on the damn thing. Even putting my entire weight on the handle proved useless. I pounded at the door, sobbing and screaming my lungs out to get someone's attention, tears, snot, and spit running down my face. I didn't care who's attention I got, I just wanted to get out of the scary room.

Just when I thought things weren't going to get any worse, I heard what sounded like the whirring and cranking of cogs and gears coming from behind me, followed by a drag, then a drooping slump upon the tile floor. My blood turned cold, spine chilling from top to bottom. I really didn't want to turn around, I just wanted to close my eyes tightly, and just imagine it was all just a nightmare, or a night terror even. But with whatever mustered up courage or foolishness I had left in me, along with the curse that is my curiosity, I slowly turned my head around to find out what became of the whirring cogs and gears.

And there, leaning against one of the legs of the large metal table, was a slumped Freddy Fazbear, but of a different palette. Instead of brown fur, he had a yellowish decay-looking fur, with a dark blue bow tie, black top hat, and a microphone in his right hand. His head is tilted to the side, with his jaw hanging wide open. The most terrifying part about this new Freddy was his minuscule glowing pupils, gazing right back at me. He continues to be motionless, doing nothing but staring in my general direction.

Right when I was going to turn back around and continue pounding and screaming at the door begging for anyone to notice my plea for help, I noticed that his left index finger was smeared in blood, a trail leading right to it. I followed the trail of the red streaks, away from the index finger, until I stopped at a small puddle, words crudely sprawled within:

“It's me!”

That was the last thing I looked at in that life.

* * *

Description
I quickly rushed off the stage, moving as fast as these animatronic legs can possibly go, trying my best not to stumble and trip over the three-step stairs leading off the stage. I awkwardly shuffled through the abundance of chairs and tables in the dining hall, like an obstacle course in gym class. Moving too quickly, I've managed to get my right foot under one of the table legs, causing me to trip and fall to my knees. If I was able to curse under my breath, I would. I pushed myself back up, hearing the rusted screeches of the suit's mechanical limbs grind together as I bend myself back into an upright position. After that little clumsy episode, I immediately made my way towards the security office. I was expecting myself to catch the security guard by surprise, and hit that freedom button, where I would finally have the chance to escape from this wretched place. I scuttled out of the dining hall, and into the east hallway, hopefully ready to make one final pushed effort. However, just before I took my first step into the east hallway, I heard a loud clanking noise at the end of the hall. I froze in place, almost certain I heard a similar noise from earlier this day, and every time before. Confused, I slowly walked towards the source of the noise, and found the metal door leading to the security room, closed shut. Following the closing of the metal door, the light in the east hallway flickered on, illuminating my presence.

I peeked through the glass window showing the interior of the office, and I was faced with quite a sight. The security guard was staring right back at me, with a look of boundless fear. He was grasping a phone with his right white-knuckled hand, his mouth speaking into it. I pressed my hands against the window, gazing upon the horrified look the guard gives me every once in a while, focusing on both the phone and I. It didn't take long before the guard hung the phone up, and focused his attention at the door parallel to the one I'm at, occasionally looking at a monitor from time to time. I assume he wouldn't be opening the door for me anytime soon.

Just when I was about to turn around and leave, the security guard scurried to the door parallel to me, and switched on the flickering light on the west hall. And to both the guard and I's surprise, Bonnie was a couple of feet from the door, ready to enter the archway. Almost like it was in slow motion, the security guard flew off of his chair, and made a quick dive at the door button. Right when Bonnie's left hand was just through the doorway, the door slammed shut, giving the purple bunny barely enough time to yank the hand out. Once the guard got control of his bearings, he pressed the light switch to see if Bonnie was still there. Evidently enough, she was not. The guard sighed in relief, only it ended abruptly when he noticed that I was still present at the window, and moved his gaze to the monitor once more. With nothing more happening, I scuttled back to the dining hall in temporary defeat.

"Obtaining my true freedom is going to be a lot trickier than I thought...” I thought to myself as I entered the dining hall once more. It didn't take long before I noticed something strange about the area. Weren't there a bunch of chairs knocked over, thanks to my doing? I stopped in the middle of the dining hall, and looked around me, tilting my giant of a head in confusion. All the chairs that I seemed to have knocked over, all the tables that have shifted and slightly turned from me bumping into them, all of it appeared to have somehow move back into their original positions. It was almost as if I never barraged my way through them. Out of the twenty-plus years I've been here, I haven't seen anything like this before.

I faced myself towards the stage, seeing Bonnie and Chica remaining stationary upon the elevated platform, appearing as if they haven't moved an inch. It was impossible, though, since I saw Bonnie at the west hall doorway with my own two mechanical eyes! So why are they back on the stage?

“Do they not care about freedom? Have they given up already?" I thought to myself some more, "Or are they too brain-dead to understand the meaning of an opportunity?”

Right when I finished that thought, the two animatronics immediately shifted their heads to lock eyes with mine. I almost lost my footing when I took a step back in surprise. These suits are insultingly clunky.

"Freddy called us brain-dead," an unknown female voice formed in my mind, "should we take offense to that?"

"That's not Freddy," another female voice chimed in within my mind, "but there's no point. It wouldn't solve our problem."

I looked around the room with nervousness resting upon my soul, wondering where the two voices came from, "Who said that?" I thought, relying on my thinking to find out who's here with me, as much of a stretch that was.

When I turned back to face the stage, Bonnie was just a few inches away from my face. I jumped back, startled by the sudden presence of the purple rabbit. Bonnie lifted up her right index finger, "I did," the second female voice echoed within my sub-conscious, "and so did Chica, or at least, the soul trapped within Chica."

I attempted to speak aloud, but ended up using the voice module within the Freddy suit, "Welcome to Freddy Frazbear's Pizza!" Freddy's voice module blurted out. I frantically covered my gaping hole of a mouth until the authentic voice finished its pre-recorded speech, feeling a sense of embarrassment deep within my soul.

Bonnie placed her right hand over her eyes and shook her head, then proceeds to disappear in the blink of an eye. I looked around until I saw Bonnie over at one of the corners of the dining hall, "Well, there goes the element of surprise. Not that you storming off to the office right away helped us one bit," the second voice – in which I learned was Bonnie's – berated me, "and also not to mention you screwing up my attempt at getting the guard."

I rotated my head to where Bonnie was standing in front of me, then back to her, "How did you do that?" I tilted my head once again, ignoring the insults thrown at me, "How did you... ya know, moved so quickly? It was almost instantaneously!"

Bonnie rotated her head at the stage, eyeing at the camera stationed there, "First off, get over here. You're in the camera's view," she scolded until I clumsily scooted over to her, "and secondly, that's none of your business." she said as she placed her crusty, worn index finger on my chest.

"Aw, no need to be rude to Mr. Fazbear, Bonnie!" the first voice – which I found out to be Chica's – complained, right before the animatronic Chica joined Bonnie and I in the corner. "He was only just curious." she chattered, placing both of her hands on my suit's shoulders from behind.

Bonnie stared at Chica with the only expression the suit could do: that stupid look of a grin, "What excuse can you possibly make to NOT be rude to this newly murdered?" Bonnie exclaimed, "He blew my cover! We'll never get into that room at this rate!"

Chica shuffled towards Bonnie, and placed her hands on Bonnie's mouth to close it shut, "But see here, you funny bunny; the night is not yet over! We still have a chance to say hello to the hard-working guard. We just gotta be patient."

"I've had thirty years of patience, Chica," Bonnie snapped, "And it doesn't help that this newly murdered could have maybe messed up the only chance!"

Newly murdered? Is she referring to me, or to Chica?

Almost on cue, Bonnie rotated herself to face me, "Of course newly murdered means you! How thick can you possibly be?" she responded harshly, "I doubt you even remember how you died."

My mind became stung, wincing in pain at the words echoing within, no thanks to Bonnie. I want to say that I don't remember, that I have completely forgotten the traumatizing experience of... dying. But if I were to say I have no memory of the sort, I would be lying through my metaphorical teeth. I remember that day crystal clear, it was all coming back to me in an instant. I suddenly remembered the day I shed my last breath... a child's death, something that no living being should endure.

* * *

It was a blazing hot Friday during the summer, the last weekend before I went into the second grade. As a last good-bye for the last few days of that summer, my parents decided to take me to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. I was simply ecstatic, bouncing off the walls in excitement, running to the family car while my parents smiled as they calmly walked towards the rickety van. I guess you could say I was just like every other kid that I see walk into Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.

After a short drive, my parents parked into the seemingly overcrowded parking lot, extremely lucky to find a spot within the cesspool of cars, trucks, and the occasional bicycle. I hopped out of the car, and made my way inside the building as I could faintly hear my parents calling out my name and telling me not to go too far without them. When I entered Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, I was greeted with an awfully happy female worker, whose job was to stamp a random symbol as a way of keeping tabs on the kids, in case they get lost.

"Why hello there! Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza! What stamp would you like: Freddy Fazbear himself, Chica the chicken, Bonnie the bunny, or Foxy-" the female worker arches her index finger to make it in the shape of a hook while closing one eye, "-the pirate fox of the legendary Pirate Cove, ARRR!"

While I would expect the parents to simply smile at the enthusiasm, I was absolutely enthralled by her performance, giggling like an idiot. But despite her wonderful impression of a pirate, I chose Freddy, my favorite mascot. The female worker stamped the back of my hand, revealing to be a brown-colored stamp showing Freddy's head, and let's me go ahead to the dining hall.

I had a blast there that day. Sitting with my friends, enjoying a nice, hot slice of Freddy's four-cheese pizza, sipping their wondrous root beer float, visiting Foxy at Pirate Cove, singing along with the animatronics during showtime... It was the best final day of that summer. Who would've thought that it would turn out to be my final day period.

I was walking back to my table from Pirate Cove when I saw something enter the door to the backstage off the corner of my left eye. For a second, I thought it was Freddy Fazbear, but when I looked over to the stage, he was right with the other two animatronics, interacting with one another and laughing. I looked back at the backstage door, almost certain I saw Freddy. I looked around at the other kids, and they didn't seem to notice the figure I saw, either too busy eating their food, or interacting with the animatronics. Could it be that there's another super secret Freddy no one knows about? With my curiosity at the highest peak, I snuck towards the backstage door.

When I arrived inside the room, leaving the door ajar, I was greeted with what should have given me the instinct to leave. Inside the slightly dimly lit room were several heads of the familiar animatronics laying on shelves, with and without eyes, probably used as replacements. A large metal table sits right in the middle of the room, with an endoskeleton sitting on one of the edges, slumped over. The scent within this room gave off a weird odor, something I have never smelled before. It was like a mix of rotten milk, and iron. In front of me by only a few meters was a Freddy Fazbear head replacement, looking right at me, but with different eyes than the others. It almost looked human-like, with the pupils and the bloodshot-patterned veins. I crept closer to the Freddy head, noticing that the smell became stronger as I moved closer to it. I should have turned away and ran as fast as I could, but my curiosity was too much for a kid like me. I slowly reached for the head replacement, and picked it up. As I was holding the head, I heard a slight dripping noise that caused my ears to perk up, and something landing on my shoes. I leaned over to the right to see below me, and froze, dropping Freddy's head in the process, lightly bouncing a couple of times before stopping to the left of me.

It was blood.

I spun around to face the door, and made a run for it. But my shoes were slicked with blood, and I ended up slipping and falling on my face, just inches away from the door. I frantically tried to get myself up, but the blood made it difficult to stand on my legs, much like trying to stand on ice.

Once I've managed to balance myself on my feet, I made my attempt to swing open the door. However, before I could reach for the handle, the door quickly closed with a loud bang. I struggled with the handle, but it was stuck in place, no matter how hard I pushed or pulled on the damn thing. Even putting my entire weight on the handle proved useless. I pounded at the door, sobbing and screaming my lungs out to get someone's attention, tears, snot, and spit running down my face. I didn't care who's attention I got, I just wanted to get out of the scary room.

Just when I thought things weren't going to get any worse, I heard what sounded like the whirring and cranking of cogs and gears coming from behind me, followed by a drag, then a drooping slump upon the tile floor. My blood turned cold, spine chilling from top to bottom. I really didn't want to turn around, I just wanted to close my eyes tightly, and just imagine it was all just a nightmare, or a night terror even. But with whatever mustered up courage or foolishness I had left in me, along with the curse that is my curiosity, I slowly turned my head around to find out what became of the whirring cogs and gears.

And there, leaning against one of the legs of the large metal table, was a slumped Freddy Fazbear, but of a different palette. Instead of brown fur, he had a yellowish decay-looking fur, with a dark blue bow tie, black top hat, and a microphone in his right hand. His head is tilted to the side, with his jaw hanging wide open. The most terrifying part about this new Freddy was his minuscule glowing pupils, gazing right back at me. He continues to be motionless, doing nothing but staring in my general direction.

Right when I was going to turn back around and continue pounding and screaming at the door begging for anyone to notice my plea for help, I noticed that his left index finger was smeared in blood, a trail leading right to it. I followed the trail of the red streaks, away from the index finger, until I stopped at a small puddle, words crudely sprawled within:

“It's me!”

That was the last thing I looked at in that life.

* * *