He didn’t need further prompting. He took off running, hearing the thing thudding behind him, feeling it shake the walls, filth and chips of paint falling from the ceiling. Where the fuck could he go?! There were no doors in this place ( there weren’t any in the late-‘80s location, bruh! ), and it would see him going into the office to hide under the desk. The vents? No air in there; he’d suffocate, and then revive, and then suffocate again. No, they weren’t an option. Stay and be caught? He’d ‘live’, but he’d be in pieces. He didn’t know if he could reassemble himself, and he didn’t want to be half a head or two fingers for the rest of eternity. Panic prompted an absurd thought: run to his father, hide behind him; maybe William would be so offended that someone else was trying to kill him that he would intervene. Definitely not an option.
His time staring at the monitor last night had at least taught him the layout of the place, and years of working night shifts had made it a simple task to translate an overhead view to practical knowledge of how the halls connected to one another. He swerved and sprinted past the arcade machines, stopping only to rip one from its socket and tip it over, hoping that it would slow the robot down.
“S-stay a-a-a–way! Don’t f–ucking t-touch me!” As he took off again, an observation wormed its way to the front of his brain. That wasn’t a Freddy’s animatronic.
For an animatronic made nearly 70 years ago (at least 10 with it left to roam in the outside), it still was a towering metal beast to not be underestimated;
“COME BACK HERE YOU FILTHY MOTHERFUCKER!”
He roared in his erratic charge, even among unfamiliar walls, the enraged mechanical quickly started to close the distance with its target. However, if his legs still held enough power to propel him to great speeds, his eyes weren’t of much use; the windowless rooms and his natural inability to see in the dark, all made the obstacle put by the terrified man all the easy to thwart his run-
THUMP
“YOU SON OF A BITCH, I’LL GET YOU!”
-but it was only an temporary seatback, as the dirty white robot already tried to pull himself from the floor (in spite of his lack of hands), precious minutes to the other however, even if he wasn’t dealing with a Freddy’s machine it had a too familiar exploit embed in its systems.
Hey, dude, you’ll never believe what we found! Okay, okay, I know it’s not Freddy’s, and we were going for authenticity, but– just one animatronic? I mean, it’s great, don’t get me wrong, but wouldn’t two be better? Haha, I know, right?! Right! So we took a drive over to the old Candy’s place! You remember? I thought, if we could pull one of those out, then people aren’t really gonna know the difference! We’ll, like, touch it up over the weekend maybe, make it look a bit more like Foxy we were thinking. Until then, could you check to see if it still works? Thanks, man! Gotta go!
It took every scrap of patience he had left not to hurl the phone across the room. No, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go! He’d found him, after all these years he’d finally found him, and it was all he could do just to keep him running in circles night after night while he figured out what to do with him! Adding another animatronic into the mix– with how aggressive his father was– ( what remained of his father– )
“Damn it!” His foot connected with the wall, and he was glad for the sneakers he’d ordered online, because it kept his toes from caving inwards. He stood there for a moment, fists clenched, mouth pulled back into an ugly, toothless scowl, as rage bubbled in his stomach. What was he going to do?! He needed a plan, he needed time, and the Springtrap was going to activate come twelve ( a reverse pumpkin carriage; the curse that started at the stroke of midnight ). He glanced down the hall, trying to get his temper under control, only to freeze when he saw two white dots staring back at him. Those weren’t the yellow lights, or the silvery-green glare what remained of William shot him from behind the glass. “Oh, you’re joking, you’re joking–”
It had been some time since the, ever unusual cryptid (as people came to call him; the White Beast), came back to visit where he first appeared at.
A visit ever so unexpected, given the abandoned building was definitely closer to the suburbs; at least enough to compromise such creature’s sneaking inside it.
…but why? Blank wasn’t one to be able to answer that question, the restaurant he now roamed had nothing for him, no spare parts, no batteries, just the dust of heavens-know years and rotten walls.
But more than anything, it made he feel remorse, anger and even sadness. Memories of the old times, when he was beloved by the Burgueria’s customers, when he was treated with dignity, when his brother was still alive-
But before the animatronic could further fall in despair, he heard it, he heard someone break their way into the building. It only meant one thing, and ONE thing only: They found him, and didn’t give up in their search to retrieve the missing bot.
As he made his way, steps heavy and joints never silent, those white-ish dead eyes set upon the man in the main show room-
“You’ll be the final warning for them.”
Words of unknown threat, further aggravated as the mechanical dashed in his victim’s direction.
