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Description
It was completely black with shadow down in the basement of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzaria, but it did not matter. I needed no eyes with the darkness as my extension. I tried to hold back my odd feeling of weakness, but I knew Protector could sense it in me, for just as the darkness was a part of me, all of us were a part of him. I approached the slumped and rejected golden Fazbear suit, the drooping head of the unused piece looking at the grime-caked floor with its eyeless mask.

The Protector.

He was the first to fall victim to the Imposter. So old and wise, yet the only power he still had was to communicate with us indirectly. I kept the night I was murdered close to my memory because of him. I was such a terrified and confused spirit unaware of what had just happened to me and with no one to turn to. Right as I began to fade, Protector took my hand and offered his protection and strength with a chance to justify my death. I then had power I had never thought to conceive and became a direct vessel for Protector when he needed. Approaching him in such a weakened state I felt unworthy to be his vessel. Was I to fade to nothing like this poor soul?

I knelt before him and bowed my head, “Protector. It’s me.”

“Yes,” he spoke with his heart through the mildew spaces of air, his projection hoarse. “My Jester. So caring and respectful to me.”

“Always, Protector,” I looked up, mask to mask. “What is it you wish of me?”

“I can feel the satisfaction of blood and bone through the girl. Another night guard removed from the facility.”

I nodded, “I only wish I could have delivered him myself so that you would get some strength back.”

He hesitated and I became uneasy. I never liked to disappoint my savior. He finally spoke after a minute, “Poor puppet. You’re weakening even now.” I looked to the floor in a disgruntled mode. He added, “Why do you think you lose strength?”

If I could still sigh I would’ve, but I answered, “For the same reason you do, Protector. I…I have been here for so long that I cannot refresh the anger I once had.” I quickly added, “I will never forget the night you saved me--the night you gave me a second chance. Not one moment goes by that I don’t remember you giving me this body.”

“This is good,” Protector said. “Back then we were so powerful together that we activated a multitude of the old restaurant’s characters to do our bidding. Each was an extension of you and I as the battered four regained their strength.” I couldn’t help the nostalgic feeling of fresh rage and power as we squandered our abilities in a mass of fury to any adult human just to get to the Imposter. We almost got him too.

“Much has changed,” I said.

“Change is necessary,” Protector included and I found his authoritative tone discomforting. He said, “And it seems that change is what the actives want. I hear their quarrels continue from above. The actives are losing their confidence in finding the Imposter.”

I isolated my determination if not to seem calm, “I have it under control, Protector. Foxy stands strong for me while Bonnie and Chica are too afraid to interfere at all. It is only Freddy that questions your opinion. As much as I admire how naturally he’s drawn to leadership, he makes the others listen to his words.” I shook my head, “He is strong even after all these years.”

“Yes…” Protector said with thought, “he is.”

It was my turn to hesitate. Something was different. For a moment I feared that Protector was fading for good. Was he finally giving up his spirit after all this time? He was tired, he was old. No, this couldn’t be the end for Protector. What would we all do if he were gone? How would we catch Imposter?

I placed a black hand onto his empty paw and said, “Please don’t give up. Use me as your strength. I will capture the next night guard and give you his spirit. Please stay.”

There were a few moments of quiet.

No. Gone?

His voice returned and I almost collapsed with relief, although I held my ground “I will stay, Jester.” Yes. We would go on. “But I cannot live through a weakened puppet.”

“What…?”

A throbbing pain clenched my spirit and I gave a screech of surprise and pain as most of my power was siphoned from me. I clawed at my midsection, uselessly trying to reach where I was being held. The attack was coming from behind and I was suddenly dropped to the dark floor. It weakened me even more than I already was, but I found the ability to turn my head and face my attacker. From the concrete I gazed up in pain as Freddy towered over me with eyes shot black and destructive need wafting off of him. He held up his hands as if about to leap at me and released a droning laugh that I had heard threaten many night guards before. For the first time it meant my doom and a terror converged with ultimate confusion.

A terror that took me straight back to one horrible night of abandonment and asphyxiation.

I struggled to look up at Protector, “W…why? I thought…you cared about me.”

The old, golden suit twitched and then turned its head to look right at me, stronger after newly feeding off whatever energy had been stolen from me. He said, “As you get weaker Freddy gets stronger. His anger is fresh and his hate is eternal. For after the lights go out, and you’re trapped in your element of darkness, Freddy gets them every time.” I sensed the others and looked to Freddy to see Bonnie, Chica, and even Foxy with eyes black in hunting mode. Protector continued, “It was never about care, Jester. It was about revenge. And you don't have enough of it.”

Freddy and his gang leaned down to look at me and I felt a storm of panic and broken fury. “But you’re just children--young children!”

Freddy wrapped his large paw around my essence and replied, “We’re not children anymore.”

The last thing I knew was Protector became Betrayer, and the last thing I heard was Bizet’s March of the Toreadors through a broken music box.

Description
It was completely black with shadow down in the basement of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzaria, but it did not matter. I needed no eyes with the darkness as my extension. I tried to hold back my odd feeling of weakness, but I knew Protector could sense it in me, for just as the darkness was a part of me, all of us were a part of him. I approached the slumped and rejected golden Fazbear suit, the drooping head of the unused piece looking at the grime-caked floor with its eyeless mask.

The Protector.

He was the first to fall victim to the Imposter. So old and wise, yet the only power he still had was to communicate with us indirectly. I kept the night I was murdered close to my memory because of him. I was such a terrified and confused spirit unaware of what had just happened to me and with no one to turn to. Right as I began to fade, Protector took my hand and offered his protection and strength with a chance to justify my death. I then had power I had never thought to conceive and became a direct vessel for Protector when he needed. Approaching him in such a weakened state I felt unworthy to be his vessel. Was I to fade to nothing like this poor soul?

I knelt before him and bowed my head, “Protector. It’s me.”

“Yes,” he spoke with his heart through the mildew spaces of air, his projection hoarse. “My Jester. So caring and respectful to me.”

“Always, Protector,” I looked up, mask to mask. “What is it you wish of me?”

“I can feel the satisfaction of blood and bone through the girl. Another night guard removed from the facility.”

I nodded, “I only wish I could have delivered him myself so that you would get some strength back.”

He hesitated and I became uneasy. I never liked to disappoint my savior. He finally spoke after a minute, “Poor puppet. You’re weakening even now.” I looked to the floor in a disgruntled mode. He added, “Why do you think you lose strength?”

If I could still sigh I would’ve, but I answered, “For the same reason you do, Protector. I…I have been here for so long that I cannot refresh the anger I once had.” I quickly added, “I will never forget the night you saved me--the night you gave me a second chance. Not one moment goes by that I don’t remember you giving me this body.”

“This is good,” Protector said. “Back then we were so powerful together that we activated a multitude of the old restaurant’s characters to do our bidding. Each was an extension of you and I as the battered four regained their strength.” I couldn’t help the nostalgic feeling of fresh rage and power as we squandered our abilities in a mass of fury to any adult human just to get to the Imposter. We almost got him too.

“Much has changed,” I said.

“Change is necessary,” Protector included and I found his authoritative tone discomforting. He said, “And it seems that change is what the actives want. I hear their quarrels continue from above. The actives are losing their confidence in finding the Imposter.”

I isolated my determination if not to seem calm, “I have it under control, Protector. Foxy stands strong for me while Bonnie and Chica are too afraid to interfere at all. It is only Freddy that questions your opinion. As much as I admire how naturally he’s drawn to leadership, he makes the others listen to his words.” I shook my head, “He is strong even after all these years.”

“Yes…” Protector said with thought, “he is.”

It was my turn to hesitate. Something was different. For a moment I feared that Protector was fading for good. Was he finally giving up his spirit after all this time? He was tired, he was old. No, this couldn’t be the end for Protector. What would we all do if he were gone? How would we catch Imposter?

I placed a black hand onto his empty paw and said, “Please don’t give up. Use me as your strength. I will capture the next night guard and give you his spirit. Please stay.”

There were a few moments of quiet.

No. Gone?

His voice returned and I almost collapsed with relief, although I held my ground “I will stay, Jester.” Yes. We would go on. “But I cannot live through a weakened puppet.”

“What…?”

A throbbing pain clenched my spirit and I gave a screech of surprise and pain as most of my power was siphoned from me. I clawed at my midsection, uselessly trying to reach where I was being held. The attack was coming from behind and I was suddenly dropped to the dark floor. It weakened me even more than I already was, but I found the ability to turn my head and face my attacker. From the concrete I gazed up in pain as Freddy towered over me with eyes shot black and destructive need wafting off of him. He held up his hands as if about to leap at me and released a droning laugh that I had heard threaten many night guards before. For the first time it meant my doom and a terror converged with ultimate confusion.

A terror that took me straight back to one horrible night of abandonment and asphyxiation.

I struggled to look up at Protector, “W…why? I thought…you cared about me.”

The old, golden suit twitched and then turned its head to look right at me, stronger after newly feeding off whatever energy had been stolen from me. He said, “As you get weaker Freddy gets stronger. His anger is fresh and his hate is eternal. For after the lights go out, and you’re trapped in your element of darkness, Freddy gets them every time.” I sensed the others and looked to Freddy to see Bonnie, Chica, and even Foxy with eyes black in hunting mode. Protector continued, “It was never about care, Jester. It was about revenge. And you don't have enough of it.”

Freddy and his gang leaned down to look at me and I felt a storm of panic and broken fury. “But you’re just children--young children!”

Freddy wrapped his large paw around my essence and replied, “We’re not children anymore.”

The last thing I knew was Protector became Betrayer, and the last thing I heard was Bizet’s March of the Toreadors through a broken music box.