Author's Note: A one-shot exploring the new Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria introduced in 5NaF 2, and the potential surrounding it. Might not be true to the actual game, as it was written before the game was actually released. Main characters in story are friends Josh, Ian, Andrew, and Kiegan. Story switches perspective between the four of them. Sorry if it's bad, this is my first "official" fanfic. Enjoy, please ^u^
"Of all the places we could have gone out to dinner, you choose some run-down Chuck-E-Cheese wannabe?" Andrew asks from across the table.
I shrug and say, "Iunno. Just seemed to be the right place to be."
Next to me, Ian crosses his arms. "Yeah, fitting. We are at about the same maturity level as the rest of the patrons here."
A couple of kids run by, screaming and hollering. Beside Andrew, Kiegan flinches as one of them brushes her leg, but she says nothing. Her attention is fixed on the stage behind me and Ian.
"Hey! Earth to Keegs! What is it?"
She snaps to attention. "H-huh? What?"
"What were you looking at?" Andrew asks.
"Just the robots." She points them out on the stage. A blue bunny, a yellow duck (or is it a chick? I can't tell) and a brown bear are jamming to tunes.
"What about them?" I ask. She seems kind of tense. Then again, she's usually like that.
"They just look a bit creepy."
"They're animatronics," Andrew mutters. "There is literally no way for them not to be creepy."
Kiegan ducks behind her menu.
"That reminds me. What are we gonna order?" I ask. "Nothing too pricey, I've only got thirty bucks on me right now."
"We could split a large pizza," Ian suggests.
"Good idea. What toppings?"
"Pepperoni sounds good."
"I'm fine with whatever you guys want."
"Alright." I stand up. "One large pepperoni pizza, coming right up."
I make my way up to the ordering station, parting a sea of little kids along the way. Their faces are stained with pizza sauce, and their hands are sticky with soda. A few of them are crowded around something I can't see in one of the adjacent party rooms. I see a little glint of light - is something metallic in there? - but it's gone before it's really there.
At the counter, I say, "Hi. I'd like a large pepperoni pizza for table 87."
The guy behind the counter nods. He seems kind of young - late twenties, perhaps - but he has the look of someone much older. He looks tired, world-weary. The man turns around and calls into the kitchen, "Order 19 for Table 87!" Distracted, I look at his nametag. Mike, it reads.
"Oh, yeah. Could I also get four fountain drinks?"
Mike hands me four cups. "If that's all, it'll be $9.75."
I fish a ten dollar bill out of my wallet, and he passes me a quarter, which I drop into the nearly empty tip jar. "Thanks," I chirp, and head back for our table.
"Who wants a drink?" I hold up the paper cups, and each of my tablemates reach for one. We head off to the soda machine, located by the counter.
Ian stops by the party room I'd passed earlier. "What are they doing?" he asks confusedly. I shrug, but Ian's question has got us all stopped to stare.
The shrieks of joy tell us that the kids are content with whatever it is they're doing. "Come on, guys," I say.
But Andrew starts moving through the small crowd, and Kiegan follows him. There's a sharp gasp and a slight retching noise, and Ian and I move for them.
The kids have been playing with a pink fox robot, and it looks like it was almost completely destroyed. One eye is missing, and patches of synthetic fur are strewn everywhere. Wires and metal jut out of the endoskeleton in a haphazard manner.
"What the…?" Ian whispers, trailing off.
Kiegan's gone rigid. She mouths a word or two, but I can't tell what she's saying.
Finally, after a few tense moments, I say, "We'd...better go get our drinks."
There's a murmured assent as we shuffle out of the room. Suddenly, it doesn't seem like such a nice evening. An awkward silence has settled over us.
The guy at the counter, Mike, gives me a sad look. Like he knows what we just saw. The song of the animatronics rings in my ears.
Happy happy birthday from all of us to you
At Freddy Fazbear's pizza, we make your dreams come true…
"Where the heck is she?" I ask again. Kiegan went missing almost half an hour ago, and it's almost time for the place to close. We're getting more and more desperate as the crowd of children and parents slowly disperses, heading off into the night. Josh has been asking the staff about her, giving a description. Nobody's even seen her.
Ian comes down from one of the hallways. "She isn't in the restroom, the cleaning lady says she was alone in there."
"Ugh! How hard is it to lose a teenager in a gameless pizzeria?" I ask frustratedly. Despite our efforts, she's continuing to elude us. Panic is setting in.
Josh comes from outside. "She's not in the parking lot either," he says.
I'm getting exasperated. How is she doing this? "Well, if you were Kiegan, what would you be doing?" I yell, throwing my hands in the air. "You know her best!"
"I'd likely be drawing or helping someone...else…" Josh trails off. Then he makes a beeline for one of the party rooms."
"Josh! We checked there already!"
But my words are shoved right back down my throat, as Kiegan is sitting smack dab in the middle of the room. She glances up at us, then flushes bright red at the mingled looks of panic and frustration on our faces.
"I'm sorry, I...I didn't realize how much time had passed...I found a room full of spare parts, so I thought I could fix her…"
She holds up the broken fox. It's clear that she was trying her best to patch it up, but her efforts fell abysmally short. It looks worse than before, I think.
"Well, it's time to go! You should have let a worker know instead of trying to fix that thing up yourself. You could have been cut, or electrocuted, or-"
Josh's words are cut off along with the power. I can almost feel the panic radiating off of my companions as what just happened slowly sinks in.
Ian's the first to move. "Wait!" he yells, darting out of the room. The rest of us are on his heels, pulling up short at the front of the pizzeria, yelling for help and banging on the doors and windows.
"LET US OUT!"
"DON'T LEAVE US IN HERE!"
Kiegan starts sobbing. "I-It's my fault we're locked in. I am so, so sorry," she cries.
"Don't worry," I say. "There's probably a night shift, so they can let us out. Right?"
"Yeah," Josh says, perking up. "Let's go find the security office."
We start wandering through the building, panic no longer absolute as there is a possible solution to our predicament.
"Those things are even creepier in the dark," I remark, staring at the robots.
"Stoppit Andrew! That isn't funny!" Kiegan shoves me, and I snicker.
"Hey! I think I found it!"
As Ian and I turn towards Josh's voice, Kiegan's already moving in that direction. There's a yelp, followed by a tremendous crash, followed by an "I'm okay!"
I shoot a look at Ian, who stifles a snicker before starting for the hall. I follow him as Kiegan extracts herself from the table she ran into.
The clock in the office reads eleven thirty as we tear into the security room. The guy at the security desk jumps. "Wh-what are you doing in here?" he asks.
The four of us start talking all at once, but he holds up his hands to stop us. "Okay, one at a time. You, with the long hair."
Josh looks at him, and stutters a bit before launching into an explanation. Kiegan got distracted, we looked for her, took too long, and got locked in. For a long time he speaks into the silence, and when he finishes the security guard picks up a set of keys.
"Just follow me and I'll let you out. Wasn't expecting this on the first day, but I suppose it shouldn't be too hard to escort you to the door," he says. Before he can even exit the room, however, the phone rings.
All five of us stare at it, and eventually it stops ringing. "You've reached Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria! We can't come to the phone right now, so leave us a message and we'll get right back to ya as soon as we can. Be ready for Freddy!"
There's a beep, and the following words send an awful chill down my spine.
"Hello? Hello, hello? Um, well, if you're hearing this, then chances are you've made a pretty poor career choice."
"Under the desk," the guard says, pale-faced. "No matter what you might see or hear, do not, I repeat, do not come out."
I don't need a second prompting. Heck, I'm under that desk before the guy can even start on that second sentence.
I can hear Andrew starting to protest, and Josh shifts his weight like he's about to say something, too, but the guard stands firm. "Under. Now."
As my friends start to move for the desk, I scoot aside to make room. Once we're all tucked up, he says, "Whatever happens, stay still. Don't cough, don't twitch, don't speak, don't scream. Try your best to keep your breathing regular and quiet. Do not fall asleep. Do your best to stay calm, it's just six hours.
We murmur assent. I can barely hear anything. The sound of blood pounding through my veins cancels out everything else. I can almost feel the adrenaline being mixed into my system. I need to stop shuddering. I so, so desperately want to hold to something, to someone, to keep me anchored, but they're as terrified as I am. I can't risk moving, anyways, not with the situation at hand.
The guard sits down in the seat in front of us. Ever so slowly, I lean back and do what I can to relax. I count to one hundred, then back down to one. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes pass by without event.
A clanking, scraping noise almost makes me jump. Someone's fingers dig into my shoulder, looking for assurance. I hold my breath.
There's a small thump as the guard puts down the tablet he was holding and straps on a funny-looking mask. It looks like the face of the bear animatronic I saw earlier, only much more worn and torn.
A little bit of light pokes into the room. I scoot forward half an inch.
Something's staring out of the vent, right into the face of the guard. He stares right back, silent, impassive. It's the chicken duck thing, but it looks different. Older, more run down. Still, I get the feeling I've seen it before.
It comes to me. It was sitting in the parts and service room that I got the stuff out of to fix the fox! It was with three other animatronics. Were they the older versions of what I'd seen on stage and in the party room today?
The chick stares for a few seconds longer, then scoots back down the vent. Once the guard is sure that it's gone, he leans back and flips the mask up onto his head. "Oh Jesus," I hear him mutter.
The grip on my shoulder is gone, but I still idly wonder how we're going to last six hours with not four, but eight of these animatronics out to kill us.
I think it's been three hours now? Nothing too interesting has happened, save the blue rabbit wandering into the room. At least, that's what the guy told us after it had left. Apparently, he hadn't needed the mask for the new rabbit, but he had needed it for the old duck. Were the old robots different? Did they think that he was one of them when he put the mask on?
A guttural growl sounds from the doorway, and the guy slams down the tablet and flips the mask over his face.
Not a second afterward, there's a slam on top of the desk, and we're jostled around. Andrew's elbow is cutting into my shoulder, but neither of us dare shift into a more comfortable position.
I can hear heavy breathing, and the snout of something reaches over the edge of the desk into the guard's face. Finally, it backs off and exits the room. I counted three minutes from the thing's entry to its departure.
"Are you kids okay?" he asks, flipping up the mask. We nod and shift back into our regular positions.
"My fault," he says. "I need to keep a closer eye on that thing. But not too close…"
I ponder the meaning of his words as we lean back under the desk. Close eye, but not too close. Does it not like being watched? Do these things have personality?
Are they alive?
Another hour ticks by. The guard tensed up once or twice looking at the cameras, but nothing major happened since that. I'm starting to think that we could make it.
There's a loud buzzing noise, and the light flickers.
"Oh no," I hear the guard say.
Then the power goes out.
I can hear him fumbling to put on the mask. Instinctively, we all push a bit closer together.
Eerie music starts to echo throughout the deserted restaurant, along with a demented, low-pitched cackle. It's the same tune as the birthday song that the new animatronics sang, but it has a much more music box-like quality to it.
The room lights up a bit. I can tell it's the glow from one of the animatronic's eyes. The music gets louder, and the laughter increases in speed.
There's a loud slam on the table, and it takes all my willpower not to cry out. I clutch at the arm of the person next to me.
I count maybe five minutes as I struggle to keep my breathing regular. Eventually, the music sputters to a stop, and that awful chuckle ceases. Is it going to leave?
I can see a dark shape lean over the counter towards the guard.
"It's me," it says in a low, guttural voice.
A hand shoots out and slams the security guard's head into the desk. Before he can even cry out, he falls unconscious. Something warm and wet spatters against my face.
The poor man is lifted out of his seat, stirring slightly but not waking. Heavy footfalls echo and fade as the animatronic slowly shuffles off with its prize.
We sit there in silence, refusing to speak, refusing to move. Ten more minutes pass by.
Then the screams start.
Deranged, robotic laughter carries all the way to the security room along with the guard's tortured cries. I stare blankly into the utter darkness. I can't believe this is happening.
There's an underscore of faint, muffled sobbing. It's probably Kiegan. My grip tightens on the arm, and they clutch me back.
After half an hour, the screams stop. I hang my head. We never even knew him, and he'd sacrificed himself to save us. Without him, we were surely dead.
I stroke Kiegan's hair as she sobs almost silently into my chest, trying to comfort her. I don't even care that I'm just as terrified as she is. A man just died because of this place. Why had I wanted to go here again? I must have been insane to have that idea.
There's a metallic squeak, and we all freeze. Kiegan sputters to a stop, and Andrew grips my wrist. We all sit there, braced for the absolute worst.
The sound repeats itself, over and over. My breath catches. I can't stop shaking.
Something leans under the desk. Something with only one eye.
The new fox stares at us, a hodgepodge of animatronic parts. It blinks - or winks - at us.
I send a silent prayer. Please.
Its head cocks curiously, like it's never seen teenagers before. Then it reaches out a warped arm and rips Kiegan out of my grip.
The three of us grope desperately for her, but she's out of our reach before we can even hope to take hold of her. The robot inspects Kiegan's tear-studded face.
"Fix," it creaks.
I almost can't believe my ears. Kiegan's mistake might just get us out of the jam that it got us into. It's nearly too good to be true.
Then it speaks again. "Fix...me?" it asks.
Scared as she is, Kiegan finds the strength to nod. "I was only...only trying to help."
There's a tense silence that lasts a small forever.
I don't believe this.
"Hold off...stay...here." It sets Kiegan back down with surprisingly gentle arms. She collapses into a grateful heap before dragging herself back under the desk.
"Are you okay?" I ask quietly as the thing squeaks away.
"I think I'm gonna retch."
"Can you hold it in until the shift's over? We have a job to do here," Andrew mutters, which makes us burst into quiet laughter. Nervous, high-pitched, 'can't believe we're alive' laughter. It soon stops, however, and we're back to sitting in silence.
Do these robots have feelings? I wonder. Can they recall? Do they think?
I ponder these questions for a while, and before we know it, another half hour has ticked away. The clock reads 5:08 am.
We're going to make it.
A horribly familiar growl makes us tense up. There's a low scraping noise. Whatever's headed for us, it's taking its time.
I look desperately at the clock. 5:49. If we can slow down whatever's here, maybe we can all get out alive. I feel a pang of guilt for the security guard. We'd just watched while he was taken away. But giving away our position would have resulted in our own deaths and defeated the point of his sacrifice.
A tremendous crash attacks my eardrums. The broken fox robot skids to a halt in front of us. Limbs are bent at unnatural angles, and the other eye is dangling from its socket.
"H-help…" it sputters. "S-s-sorry."
The fox - the old one - looks under the desk. "Ah-h-hoy, maties," he growls in a tinny pirate accent. "I-I-It's time for ye to-to-to walk the pl-plank."
I cringe at the skipping voice. The pirate reaches under and starts extracting us, one by one, with his hook. I can hear Ian's gasp as the sharp point rakes across his chest, and I flinch as it digs into my shoulder. Silent tears run down Kiegan's face as she stares at the broken fox. "I'm so sorry," I hear her whisper.
The pirate fox hoists the other robot over his shoulder and starts herding us down the hall. "The f-faster ye go, the eas-eas-easier this will b-be."
Despite its warning, we try to stall as long as we can. We shuffle and trip, and earn scrapes down our backs with the hook. Finally, Ian stumbles and falls. The pirate glares at him, then plants a foot into his ribs. I can hear something crack. He cries out and rolls over. I can see a stream of blood running from the corner of his mouth.
Amazingly, he grits his teeth and continues to take it. He's buying us time. But it's pretty clear he's not going to last very long against this thing. We have to help him. No more hiding under desks. It's time for action.
I leap at the robot and kick him in the shin. It doesn't do much to it, but it stubs the heck out of my toes. It takes all my willpower not to start spouting expletives while hopping around on one foot as I try and stare down the thing.
It's not impressed. It reaches out and backhands me with the blunt edge of its hook. It doesn't cut open a deep gash, but it does break the skin. Little lights explode behind my eyes as I stumble back and slump down against the wall. My head is spinning hard.
Through blurry vision, I can see Josh and Kiegan throw themselves at the pirate from opposite angles. The thing goes down, but not without scoring its hook across Kiegan's stomach. She doubles over, then crumples silently to the floor.
I try to stand up, but my ankle won't support me. An explosion of pain shoots up my leg, and I topple forward. Someone yells my name.
A clock tower chimes as I close my eyes, unsure if they'll ever open again.
I take a step back. Three dark shapes are closing in on me, eyes flashing from the gloom. Something skitters behind me.
The shape in front takes a step forward. It's a giant, lumbering bear. Flesh and fur hang from it, showing muscles and bone. I think I'm going to puke.
Its bloodstained pelt ripples as it nods to its companions. A bony thin fox and a faceless rabbit step into place. I can hear their whispers playing through the room, echoing off the unlit walls.
"Is this where you want to be?"
"Please let us in…"
"Stop staring at me, I know you're staring!"
"I don't want to go into parts and service…"
"Freddy, what's going to happen to us?"
"They're replacing us? That can't be right! Th-this is our home!"
"You'll pay...you'll all pay for stealing the show…"
Despite my horror, I'm starting to feel sorry for them. They were simply tossed aside, stuffed in a back room with no way of knowing what would happen to them.
That feeling doesn't last when something grabs me from behind.
I shriek and whirl around. A tall, thin man stands before me, entirely black save his eerie white face. He smiles and holds out a box to me.
I stand there, staring, unsure what to do. Finally, I take the box from him.
"Thank you, sir," I say.
He just smiles.
With a trembling hand, I undo the ribbon and ever so slowly open the box.
A bright light bursts out of it, and I shield my face against the oncoming wave…
"Where are they? I need to see them, I need to make sure they're alright!"
"Calm down," the doctor says. "The girl's just regained consciousness, we'll bring you all out in about ten minutes."
Ten minutes? I can't wait ten seconds. I'm all waited out. I waited FIVE HOURS last night, stuck under a wooden desk with nothing but a security guard and some robots to keep me and my friends company.
Somehow, however, I do manage to stay still for the longest ten minutes of my entire life. And that is saying something. Eventually, they're herded into the lobby. They're tired, bruised, patched up all over and still a bit bloody, but they each give me weak smiles as I hurry over to them. My ribs are killing me, but I still pull them into a hug.
"So what happened? I lost consciousness…"
"Josh kicked that thing's sorry ass, did you see?"
"No, I was too busy worrying about the giant HOLE in my stomach…"
Just like old times. It was only yesterday we were living normal lives, but now we have this to deal with. But despite it, we managed to shrug that off like it was nothing. Nobody - not people, not animals, not even homicidal robots - is going to force the four of us apart.
"So, who's hungry? Breakfast is on me."
"Anything but pizza."
"You know what, don't ever mention pizza to me again."
"You got it, hahah."
Heck, this experience might just bring us closer together.