Where’s the harm, they ask.
As it turns out, very near.
Wren thinks there’s nothing wrong with playing the hit new indie horror game, but the experience is much more immersive than she thought. Robert considers it noble to try to bring an escaped killer to justice, unaware that they’re closer than he could ever imagine. And, two souls, across time, must grapple with the consequences of disobeying their well-meaning fathers. In the deceptive world of Five Nights at Freddy’s, it is the most innocent trees that bear the most sinister fruits.
Story 1: Meta
The door flew open, and Wren threw her backpack onto the bed. She collapsed on it as well, exhausted.
She hadn’t relaxed since she’d woken up that morning. She had to get up at 6 AM in order to get to high school on time. Then, practically the minute it was over, she was off to work. Seven hours at the dollar store, being paid minimum wage and being yelled at by some kid’s mom for the toys breaking too easily, were not exactly ideal for decompression (China made it, take it up with them, lady).
Now it was past 10 PM, which was usually when she crashed into bed, preparing to do it all over again.
But not tonight.
She had finally convinced her dad to let her buy a gaming laptop. Wren had wanted one for years, and had been able to afford one for months, but he’d claimed that it was a frivolous thing that she didn’t need. He was wrong.
Games were Wren’s refuge. A peaceful shelter from the ever growing storm of work, school, and overall confusion, and from dad and mom’s unending arguments (something about a woman named Felicia).
Much of her life had been spent playing crappy mobile games, or stuff on their ancient XBox.
But now, she was ready to play some of the titles she’d grown up watching LetsPlayers overreact to. However, before that, there was a newer release that had caught her attention: a horror game called Five Nights at Fazbear’s.
It’d been taking the internet by storm- partially because of all of the people screaming at it on YouTube, but also because of a minor controversy. Fazbear Entertainment, the company whose animatronic characters inspired the game, claimed the indie developer was doing more than just spookifying the robots. According to them, the game was based off of a series of murders that had occured in the eighties- and more than that, it was propagating the urban legends that the victims went on to possess the animatronics.
Wren didn’t really get what the big deal was. If anything, those stories being locked behind a computer screen would make it more convincing that they were just that- stories. Heck, Fazbear Entertainment should be paying this guy.
Whatever. Wren didn’t care about any of that- she just wanted the scares and the fun that the reviews for the game promised.
After setting up her account, she hopped onto Steam and bought the game. Already it was a little creepy- its app icon, the titular Freddy Fazbear, seemed to be looking right at her.
She opened the application up, and clicked New Game.
Wren smiled. “This is gonna be fun!”
REEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
“God, damn it!” Wren yelled. She slammed her fists down in anger. “If his stupid jingle had lasted two seconds longer I’d have made it!”
The game had been fun and spooky for a while. She passed Nights One and Two without one death. She’d died once on Night 3, and twice on Night Four.
But Night Five was different. It was like it was ten times harder. She wasn’t flipping up the monitor unnecessarily, she was being pretty conservative with the door lights, and Foxy had only hit her once.
And yet, every time, her fate came down to Freddy’s power out sequence. The restaurant would go dark, and she’d be cut off from her doors, lights, and monitor. Deep laughs and circus music were the only things she could hear.
Then Freddy, face alight, would appear in her left door. He’d play his music box, and then go dark. Moments later, he’d jump at her and scream, and the game would be over.
Her technique seemed perfect, but she kept failing.
Something odd caught her eye. Her hands had been slightly sweaty this whole time from the stress, but if this was that, she might need to see a doctor.
Rather than clear salty droplets, a black goop coated her hand. It suddenly moved, like it was alive, and went into the computer.
All of this lasted a second. Wren blinked, and her hand and computer were both slime free.
“Maybe I should go to bed…” she muttered, wiping her tired eyes. “Umm…after one more try.”
To her annoyance, she’d been kicked out of the app. It was like it was rebooting all of a sudden.
Fortunately, she was able to log back in quickly.
“Alright.” She moved her mouse over the CONTINUE option. “I can do this.”
She clicked, and the night began.
Wren was ecstatic. For her thirteenth birthday, she’d finally gotten a cell phone of her own. Perhaps other teens would have first set up a social media account, or texted their friends. Wren, on the other hand, was most interested in the new game opportunities- above all, BlockGame.
Wren had only played it at her friend Tess’ house, but it had already enchanted her. The ability to make anything you wanted, in a world all to her own? It was like a dream.
Wren purchased and opened up the game. She decided to try survival first.
The world generated. She was in a lush forest filled with pine trees, with an azure river running through it. The flow of water, clucks of chickens, and sound of her own footsteps filled her room.
She paused, briefly, when she heard shouting from downstairs. Mom and dad, fighting. Apparently dad thought they hadn’t talked through the purchase of the phone, while mom insisted he’d been there, but this wasn’t too surprising since he never listened.
They’d seemed to get along when they went to her favorite burger place for a birthday lunch. Ultimately, though, she understood they were putting on an act for her.
Would she rather know the truth? How much their relationship was truly detoriatring? She didn’t know.
Their voices grew louder, their tones more defensive and accusatory.
Wren turned up the game’s volume, and delved deeper into a simpler world.
The annoying phone call began ringing. Wren shut it off the moment she could, catching only a second of that demonic muttering. She had to focus.
Weirdly enough, it seemed more muted than usual. In fact, all the sounds- the humming of the fan, the heavy, distant footsteps (oops, should probably get onto the cams)- were more dim, more quiet than before. At the same time, they sounded different: more real, and more immersive, like they were coming from all around her, instead of just from her headphones.
She checked to make sure said headphones were plugged in. They were. She shrugged it off and kept playing.
Freddy gave his first guttural laugh, and moved into the Dining Area. Ugh. No matter how many times she heard it, that chuckle sent a chill down her spine.
The chill remained, oddly. In fact, she was starting to get rather cold. She found the answer pretty easily: her ceiling fan had turned on for no reason.
Wren frowned. That didn’t make any sense, she hadn’t been messing with the switches or anything.
She quickly looked through the monitor. Bonnie was in the hall, but all the other animatronics were a good distance away. She could probably get up and turn the fan off.
Wren pushed herself out of her chair- or tried, anyway. She was pulled back down, like she was glued to it.
Confused, she attempted to yell for help. But that went wrong too. Her mouth was practically clamped shut. No matter what she did, she couldn’t make a sound.
Her mind began racing. Something was wrong- horribly wrong.
She shook, trying to tip the chair over to see if that let her get up. The chair stood steady, but her headphones fell off.
Funny thing, though- she could still hear the noises.
The fan didn’t sound like the game one because it wasn’t- it was hers. The noises were muffled while she wore the headphones because they weren’t from the headphones- they were from around the room.
More footsteps echoed from the left door- though they sounded different, less like the clacks of tiled floors and more like the subtle squishes of carpet.
Out of pure instinct, she flashed the light outside the door- and, like dozens of times before, Bonnie stood in the entrance.
But her closet also lit up, brightened by the bare light bulb that hung inside.
Her clothes- something weird happened. The way they cast a shadow, it was almost like-
Bonnie!
The shadows formed the animatronic’s face, with two skinny bunny ears protruding up from it. Spaces in the shadows formed eyes and a crude mouth.
Thinking fast, she shut the in-game door. Her closet slammed shut.
In a daze, she started to look at the cameras. She had to, after all. The game and reality had somehow merged, and she had a feeling that the consequences for failure were just as real.
Almost there…almost there…
Creak… “Hey, sweetie, I want to talk.”
Startled, Wren tilted her phone the wrong way, and her character fell. GAME OVER flashed on the screen.
Mom smiled awkwardly, leaning against the door. “Oops, did I just make you lose?”
Wren was furious. “Yeah, you did. I was about to get a new high score in Doodle Leap. I was so close!”
Seeing Wren’s genuine frustration, Mom frowned. “Well, I’m sorry, dear. I just wanted to talk about me and your father.”
Wren stared blankly. “Are you splitting up?”
“What, no! We just wanted to let you know…that we’re trying to make things better. He’s promised not to see Emma anymore, and we’re going to go to counseling to see if we can work things out.”
“And what if you can’t?”
An awkward silence came over the room.
“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.”
She walked over and put her hand on Wren’s shoulder. “I know this is hard on you, but you really don’t have to worry about it. It’s not your fault.”
“Of course it isn’t!” Wren exploded trying to subtly wipe away the tears forming in her eyes. “You know, you guys always come to me saying you’re gonna try to do better, but when you actually have to, nothing changes. So why waste my time? Just leave me alone.”
Mom stepped back surprised, but nodded. “Alright, for now. I think you’re just cranky since you’ve had a hard day.”
“I’ve had a hard couple of years.”
Mom didn’t have a rebuttal to that. She sighed, and walked out of the room.
Wren got up, and shut the door behind her.
From outside that very door, Wren heard more footsteps, as well as a raspy breath that sounded like someone’s last. She flashed the game light, and the fixture in the hall burst to life. The shadow of Chica was cast against the opposite wall, gaping at her.
Quickly she pressed the red button, and her door closed.
Throughout all of this, Wren was trying to figure out what happened. Maybe she’d fallen asleep and it was all a dream?
That theory was ruined when she realized she could read the rules in the hallway corner cam. It’s near impossible to read in dreams. So did that mean this was all real?
How far would this go? She was focusing on getting through the night, but then what? Be forced to play through the Sixth Night, then the Seventh? She hadn’t beat the Fifth Night yet; what were the odds she’d beat these harder nights on her first try? Even then, what would happen? Would she be forced to keep existing in her player character’s place? Live his life? How would that even work?
So many questions, and so few answers. Wren was feeling so lost.
Suddenly, she realized she hadn’t checked the cameras in a while, instead just absentmindedly flashing the lights. Her worst fears were confirmed when she flipped up the monitor again, to see Foxy sprinting down the left hall.
She could hear him too- which made no sense. Her left door was her closet- there was nowhere to charge from.
Because the rest of this makes a lot of sense. Wren thought bitterly, as she closed the door.
Within one more moment, Foxy threw himself against the door.
It was worse than she thought.
Foxy had always been scarier than the others to her. He wasn’t content to stay by the door and gaze in at you. He would scrape and kick and bite at it, stealing more power with every charge. Of course, at least in the game the door was metal.
Wren stared, horrified, as her wooden door buckled, its hinges threatening to tear right off. She heard the animatronic drag its hook against the wood, and could see the tiniest of cracks form right in the middle.
Foxy put his glowing eye to the crack and glared, before the scraping stopped and he left
She knew logically that Foxy wouldn’t break her door down. After all, she still had 47% power left (Ah, finally turned to 3 AM), and the game ensured the doors would remain operative until she was out of juice.
Still, did logic really matter right now?
“Wren…Wren…WREN!!”
Wren looked up from her game to see Tess had boarded the bus. “Could you scoot further down the seat? I want to sit next to you.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Wren pushed herself closer to the window.
Tess sat down, and there was a minute of uncomfortable silence. To be honest, Wren and Tess hadn’t really been talking too much recently. Really, she hadn’t talked to many of her other friends for a while. Work, clubs, and homework had just been keeping them apart outside of school.
Tess broke the silence. “So…me, Eric, and Max have been talking, we’ve finally found some time where we could hang out together. Are you free this weekend?”
Wren looked up from her phone excitedly. “Actually, yeah! I am! Do you guys want to sleep over at my house?”
“No, we already have an idea. We’re going camping.”
Wren frowned, unnoticed by Tess, who kept explaining. “Max suggested it. Their uncle got them a multi tool, and I think they want the chance to use more than just the nail clippers. And Eric suggested a really cool site he and his family went to last year. And my stepmom agreed to let us use her tent and drive us! Anyway, you up?”
Tess stared expectantly. Wren nervously responded, “Um, I don’t think so…”
“What? Why? You said you were free.”
“While, sort of. My dad finally agreed to let me get a gaming laptop on Thursday. There are so many games I want to try, and I couldn’t stand to be away from it for a whole weekend.”
Tess looked confused. “The laptop will be there next week. The camping trip won’t.”
“I know. It’s just…stuff like this is more relaxing for me. It’s easier.”
The awkward silence returned.
“Ok, suit yourself. But if you change your mind, text me.” Tess offered.
The bus arrived at school, and the girls went their separate ways. Wren wasn’t sure if she’d made the right choice.
Freddy’s laughs were maddening.
Each laugh indicated movement- from hall to corner, corner to hall. Wren would leave the door open as long as she dared, knowing all the while she was one ill-timed chuckle away from a terrible fate.
Finally, 5 AM arrived. She was so close…but she only had 8% power left.
Every movement was carefully timed. Foxy was on his final stage before charging, but she was pretty sure she could hold him. Chica was playing with cookware in the kitchen. Bonnie was in the supply closet, but she was prepared to shut the door any second. And Freddy was in the hall, no risk to her.
Ultimately, though no matter what she did, the power mercilessly ticked down. Until she hit zero.
The eerie hum resonated through Wren’s room. Her light, which had been glowing dimly, now went completely out. Her closet door opened up, and she was unable to use the game monitor. The only light now was from her computer, but the screen wasn’t that bright.
This was it. It was all up to chance whether or not she’d escape this nightmare.
Wait…
Escape.
She turned her gaze towards her keyboard’s upper-left corner. Embedded there was the ESC key. Pressing it would close the game.
Wren eagerly moved to push it, but then hesitated. She was really close to the end of the night, and had a good chance of making it…maybe she should wait until after Night 5 was over. She’d never gotten this close before, why waste it?
A part of her recognized how stupid this was. It felt like part of her mind was submerged in that sticky black goo she’d hallucinated, and every drop of it was encouraging her to keep playing. Heck, why stop after Night 5? She could stay, and have more fun and face more challenges.
Finally, Freddy appeared in the closet. His eyes and teeth glowed with a blinding white light, and blinked along to his rendition of the Toreador March.
Wren’s time was running out. She had to choose.
This game was fun, if frustrating- and, in many ways, it was easier than real life. At least here she knew exactly how everything worked- exactly how to fend off monsters, conserve power, and stay safe. The real world was a mess, where few things made sense.
But then again, it was real.
Games were Wren’s refuge- but could she really call them that if she never left them? They were great, but there was more to life than escapism.
The black goo rebelled against this, trying to pull her entire mind into itself, to make her give in to the game.
But she refused.
Freddy’s song came to an end, and the room went completely dark. His footsteps echoed through the darkness.
Wren reached forwards, and closed the game.
The world set itself right.
The eerie noises stopped, and the light came back on. Wren hesitantly pushed herself up from her chair, half expecting it to pull her back down. She was overjoyed when that didn’t happen.
“Yes!” she cheered, and gladly welcomed the return of her voice.
Quickly, she sat down again, and deleted the game. She wasn’t sure if she could get some kind of refund, but she just wanted to be fully free of it.
Leaning back in her chair, she noticed her phone sitting on the bed. Quickly she grabbed it and began to text Tess.
[Wren: Hey, about that camping trip…Changed my mind, I want to come after all]
Wren checked the time. 1:32 in the morning. Tess probably wouldn’t answer till she woke up, but Wren just wanted to let her know as soon as possible.
Wren got into bed, and she couldn’t help but smile. Sure, life was still hard. School and work would still suck, and her parents weren’t going to walk in and say everything was fine between them (well, maybe they would, but it’d be a lie). Still, Wren felt a little better than before, and was ready to face the real world.
As long as there was still time for an occasional game, of course.
The door flew open, and Wren threw her backpack onto the bed. She collapsed on it as well, exhausted.
She hadn’t relaxed since she’d woken up that morning. She had to get up at 6 AM in order to get to high school on time. Then, practically the minute it was over, she was off to work. Seven hours at the dollar store, being paid minimum wage and being yelled at by some kid’s mom for the toys breaking too easily, were not exactly ideal for decompression (China made it, take it up with them, lady).
Now it was past 10 PM, which was usually when she crashed into bed, preparing to do it all over again.
But not tonight.
She had finally convinced her dad to let her buy a gaming laptop. Wren had wanted one for years, and had been able to afford one for months, but he’d claimed that it was a frivolous thing that she didn’t need. He was wrong.
Games were Wren’s refuge. A peaceful shelter from the ever growing storm of work, school, and overall confusion, and from dad and mom’s unending arguments (something about a woman named Felicia).
Much of her life had been spent playing crappy mobile games, or stuff on their ancient XBox.
But now, she was ready to play some of the titles she’d grown up watching LetsPlayers overreact to. However, before that, there was a newer release that had caught her attention: a horror game called Five Nights at Fazbear’s.
It’d been taking the internet by storm- partially because of all of the people screaming at it on YouTube, but also because of a minor controversy. Fazbear Entertainment, the company whose animatronic characters inspired the game, claimed the indie developer was doing more than just spookifying the robots. According to them, the game was based off of a series of murders that had occured in the eighties- and more than that, it was propagating the urban legends that the victims went on to possess the animatronics.
Wren didn’t really get what the big deal was. If anything, those stories being locked behind a computer screen would make it more convincing that they were just that- stories. Heck, Fazbear Entertainment should be paying this guy.
Whatever. Wren didn’t care about any of that- she just wanted the scares and the fun that the reviews for the game promised.
After setting up her account, she hopped onto Steam and bought the game. Already it was a little creepy- its app icon, the titular Freddy Fazbear, seemed to be looking right at her.
She opened the application up, and clicked New Game.
Wren smiled. “This is gonna be fun!”
REEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
“God, damn it!” Wren yelled. She slammed her fists down in anger. “If his stupid jingle had lasted two seconds longer I’d have made it!”
The game had been fun and spooky for a while. She passed Nights One and Two without one death. She’d died once on Night 3, and twice on Night Four.
But Night Five was different. It was like it was ten times harder. She wasn’t flipping up the monitor unnecessarily, she was being pretty conservative with the door lights, and Foxy had only hit her once.
And yet, every time, her fate came down to Freddy’s power out sequence. The restaurant would go dark, and she’d be cut off from her doors, lights, and monitor. Deep laughs and circus music were the only things she could hear.
Then Freddy, face alight, would appear in her left door. He’d play his music box, and then go dark. Moments later, he’d jump at her and scream, and the game would be over.
Her technique seemed perfect, but she kept failing.
Something odd caught her eye. Her hands had been slightly sweaty this whole time from the stress, but if this was that, she might need to see a doctor.
Rather than clear salty droplets, a black goop coated her hand. It suddenly moved, like it was alive, and went into the computer.
All of this lasted a second. Wren blinked, and her hand and computer were both slime free.
“Maybe I should go to bed…” she muttered, wiping her tired eyes. “Umm…after one more try.”
To her annoyance, she’d been kicked out of the app. It was like it was rebooting all of a sudden.
Fortunately, she was able to log back in quickly.
“Alright.” She moved her mouse over the CONTINUE option. “I can do this.”
She clicked, and the night began.
Wren was ecstatic. For her thirteenth birthday, she’d finally gotten a cell phone of her own. Perhaps other teens would have first set up a social media account, or texted their friends. Wren, on the other hand, was most interested in the new game opportunities- above all, BlockGame.
Wren had only played it at her friend Tess’ house, but it had already enchanted her. The ability to make anything you wanted, in a world all to her own? It was like a dream.
Wren purchased and opened up the game. She decided to try survival first.
The world generated. She was in a lush forest filled with pine trees, with an azure river running through it. The flow of water, clucks of chickens, and sound of her own footsteps filled her room.
She paused, briefly, when she heard shouting from downstairs. Mom and dad, fighting. Apparently dad thought they hadn’t talked through the purchase of the phone, while mom insisted he’d been there, but this wasn’t too surprising since he never listened.
They’d seemed to get along when they went to her favorite burger place for a birthday lunch. Ultimately, though, she understood they were putting on an act for her.
Would she rather know the truth? How much their relationship was truly detoriatring? She didn’t know.
Their voices grew louder, their tones more defensive and accusatory.
Wren turned up the game’s volume, and delved deeper into a simpler world.
The annoying phone call began ringing. Wren shut it off the moment she could, catching only a second of that demonic muttering. She had to focus.
Weirdly enough, it seemed more muted than usual. In fact, all the sounds- the humming of the fan, the heavy, distant footsteps (oops, should probably get onto the cams)- were more dim, more quiet than before. At the same time, they sounded different: more real, and more immersive, like they were coming from all around her, instead of just from her headphones.
She checked to make sure said headphones were plugged in. They were. She shrugged it off and kept playing.
Freddy gave his first guttural laugh, and moved into the Dining Area. Ugh. No matter how many times she heard it, that chuckle sent a chill down her spine.
The chill remained, oddly. In fact, she was starting to get rather cold. She found the answer pretty easily: her ceiling fan had turned on for no reason.
Wren frowned. That didn’t make any sense, she hadn’t been messing with the switches or anything.
She quickly looked through the monitor. Bonnie was in the hall, but all the other animatronics were a good distance away. She could probably get up and turn the fan off.
Wren pushed herself out of her chair- or tried, anyway. She was pulled back down, like she was glued to it.
Confused, she attempted to yell for help. But that went wrong too. Her mouth was practically clamped shut. No matter what she did, she couldn’t make a sound.
Her mind began racing. Something was wrong- horribly wrong.
She shook, trying to tip the chair over to see if that let her get up. The chair stood steady, but her headphones fell off.
Funny thing, though- she could still hear the noises.
The fan didn’t sound like the game one because it wasn’t- it was hers. The noises were muffled while she wore the headphones because they weren’t from the headphones- they were from around the room.
More footsteps echoed from the left door- though they sounded different, less like the clacks of tiled floors and more like the subtle squishes of carpet.
Out of pure instinct, she flashed the light outside the door- and, like dozens of times before, Bonnie stood in the entrance.
But her closet also lit up, brightened by the bare light bulb that hung inside.
Her clothes- something weird happened. The way they cast a shadow, it was almost like-
Bonnie!
The shadows formed the animatronic’s face, with two skinny bunny ears protruding up from it. Spaces in the shadows formed eyes and a crude mouth.
Thinking fast, she shut the in-game door. Her closet slammed shut.
In a daze, she started to look at the cameras. She had to, after all. The game and reality had somehow merged, and she had a feeling that the consequences for failure were just as real.
Almost there…almost there…
Creak… “Hey, sweetie, I want to talk.”
Startled, Wren tilted her phone the wrong way, and her character fell. GAME OVER flashed on the screen.
Mom smiled awkwardly, leaning against the door. “Oops, did I just make you lose?”
Wren was furious. “Yeah, you did. I was about to get a new high score in Doodle Leap. I was so close!”
Seeing Wren’s genuine frustration, Mom frowned. “Well, I’m sorry, dear. I just wanted to talk about me and your father.”
Wren stared blankly. “Are you splitting up?”
“What, no! We just wanted to let you know…that we’re trying to make things better. He’s promised not to see Emma anymore, and we’re going to go to counseling to see if we can work things out.”
“And what if you can’t?”
An awkward silence came over the room.
“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.”
She walked over and put her hand on Wren’s shoulder. “I know this is hard on you, but you really don’t have to worry about it. It’s not your fault.”
“Of course it isn’t!” Wren exploded trying to subtly wipe away the tears forming in her eyes. “You know, you guys always come to me saying you’re gonna try to do better, but when you actually have to, nothing changes. So why waste my time? Just leave me alone.”
Mom stepped back surprised, but nodded. “Alright, for now. I think you’re just cranky since you’ve had a hard day.”
“I’ve had a hard couple of years.”
Mom didn’t have a rebuttal to that. She sighed, and walked out of the room.
Wren got up, and shut the door behind her.
From outside that very door, Wren heard more footsteps, as well as a raspy breath that sounded like someone’s last. She flashed the game light, and the fixture in the hall burst to life. The shadow of Chica was cast against the opposite wall, gaping at her.
Quickly she pressed the red button, and her door closed.
Throughout all of this, Wren was trying to figure out what happened. Maybe she’d fallen asleep and it was all a dream?
That theory was ruined when she realized she could read the rules in the hallway corner cam. It’s near impossible to read in dreams. So did that mean this was all real?
How far would this go? She was focusing on getting through the night, but then what? Be forced to play through the Sixth Night, then the Seventh? She hadn’t beat the Fifth Night yet; what were the odds she’d beat these harder nights on her first try? Even then, what would happen? Would she be forced to keep existing in her player character’s place? Live his life? How would that even work?
So many questions, and so few answers. Wren was feeling so lost.
Suddenly, she realized she hadn’t checked the cameras in a while, instead just absentmindedly flashing the lights. Her worst fears were confirmed when she flipped up the monitor again, to see Foxy sprinting down the left hall.
She could hear him too- which made no sense. Her left door was her closet- there was nowhere to charge from.
Because the rest of this makes a lot of sense. Wren thought bitterly, as she closed the door.
Within one more moment, Foxy threw himself against the door.
It was worse than she thought.
Foxy had always been scarier than the others to her. He wasn’t content to stay by the door and gaze in at you. He would scrape and kick and bite at it, stealing more power with every charge. Of course, at least in the game the door was metal.
Wren stared, horrified, as her wooden door buckled, its hinges threatening to tear right off. She heard the animatronic drag its hook against the wood, and could see the tiniest of cracks form right in the middle.
Foxy put his glowing eye to the crack and glared, before the scraping stopped and he left
She knew logically that Foxy wouldn’t break her door down. After all, she still had 47% power left (Ah, finally turned to 3 AM), and the game ensured the doors would remain operative until she was out of juice.
Still, did logic really matter right now?
“Wren…Wren…WREN!!”
Wren looked up from her game to see Tess had boarded the bus. “Could you scoot further down the seat? I want to sit next to you.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Wren pushed herself closer to the window.
Tess sat down, and there was a minute of uncomfortable silence. To be honest, Wren and Tess hadn’t really been talking too much recently. Really, she hadn’t talked to many of her other friends for a while. Work, clubs, and homework had just been keeping them apart outside of school.
Tess broke the silence. “So…me, Eric, and Max have been talking, we’ve finally found some time where we could hang out together. Are you free this weekend?”
Wren looked up from her phone excitedly. “Actually, yeah! I am! Do you guys want to sleep over at my house?”
“No, we already have an idea. We’re going camping.”
Wren frowned, unnoticed by Tess, who kept explaining. “Max suggested it. Their uncle got them a multi tool, and I think they want the chance to use more than just the nail clippers. And Eric suggested a really cool site he and his family went to last year. And my stepmom agreed to let us use her tent and drive us! Anyway, you up?”
Tess stared expectantly. Wren nervously responded, “Um, I don’t think so…”
“What? Why? You said you were free.”
“While, sort of. My dad finally agreed to let me get a gaming laptop on Thursday. There are so many games I want to try, and I couldn’t stand to be away from it for a whole weekend.”
Tess looked confused. “The laptop will be there next week. The camping trip won’t.”
“I know. It’s just…stuff like this is more relaxing for me. It’s easier.”
The awkward silence returned.
“Ok, suit yourself. But if you change your mind, text me.” Tess offered.
The bus arrived at school, and the girls went their separate ways. Wren wasn’t sure if she’d made the right choice.
Freddy’s laughs were maddening.
Each laugh indicated movement- from hall to corner, corner to hall. Wren would leave the door open as long as she dared, knowing all the while she was one ill-timed chuckle away from a terrible fate.
Finally, 5 AM arrived. She was so close…but she only had 8% power left.
Every movement was carefully timed. Foxy was on his final stage before charging, but she was pretty sure she could hold him. Chica was playing with cookware in the kitchen. Bonnie was in the supply closet, but she was prepared to shut the door any second. And Freddy was in the hall, no risk to her.
Ultimately, though no matter what she did, the power mercilessly ticked down. Until she hit zero.
The eerie hum resonated through Wren’s room. Her light, which had been glowing dimly, now went completely out. Her closet door opened up, and she was unable to use the game monitor. The only light now was from her computer, but the screen wasn’t that bright.
This was it. It was all up to chance whether or not she’d escape this nightmare.
Wait…
Escape.
She turned her gaze towards her keyboard’s upper-left corner. Embedded there was the ESC key. Pressing it would close the game.
Wren eagerly moved to push it, but then hesitated. She was really close to the end of the night, and had a good chance of making it…maybe she should wait until after Night 5 was over. She’d never gotten this close before, why waste it?
A part of her recognized how stupid this was. It felt like part of her mind was submerged in that sticky black goo she’d hallucinated, and every drop of it was encouraging her to keep playing. Heck, why stop after Night 5? She could stay, and have more fun and face more challenges.
Finally, Freddy appeared in the closet. His eyes and teeth glowed with a blinding white light, and blinked along to his rendition of the Toreador March.
Wren’s time was running out. She had to choose.
This game was fun, if frustrating- and, in many ways, it was easier than real life. At least here she knew exactly how everything worked- exactly how to fend off monsters, conserve power, and stay safe. The real world was a mess, where few things made sense.
But then again, it was real.
Games were Wren’s refuge- but could she really call them that if she never left them? They were great, but there was more to life than escapism.
The black goo rebelled against this, trying to pull her entire mind into itself, to make her give in to the game.
But she refused.
Freddy’s song came to an end, and the room went completely dark. His footsteps echoed through the darkness.
Wren reached forwards, and closed the game.
The world set itself right.
The eerie noises stopped, and the light came back on. Wren hesitantly pushed herself up from her chair, half expecting it to pull her back down. She was overjoyed when that didn’t happen.
“Yes!” she cheered, and gladly welcomed the return of her voice.
Quickly, she sat down again, and deleted the game. She wasn’t sure if she could get some kind of refund, but she just wanted to be fully free of it.
Leaning back in her chair, she noticed her phone sitting on the bed. Quickly she grabbed it and began to text Tess.
[Wren: Hey, about that camping trip…Changed my mind, I want to come after all]
Wren checked the time. 1:32 in the morning. Tess probably wouldn’t answer till she woke up, but Wren just wanted to let her know as soon as possible.
Wren got into bed, and she couldn’t help but smile. Sure, life was still hard. School and work would still suck, and her parents weren’t going to walk in and say everything was fine between them (well, maybe they would, but it’d be a lie). Still, Wren felt a little better than before, and was ready to face the real world.
As long as there was still time for an occasional game, of course.
Story 2: What He Saw
Robert stood before the bulletin board, shivering with the constant paranoia and fear he always felt that time of night. He never slept, not those days. He was pouring over everything on the board, reading the newspaper clippings of missing children, staring at dreadful photographs. He was here whenever he couldn’t sleep, which was most nights. He felt he had to guard his family. He glanced at the photos, connected by strings like in classic detective flicks. One was the exterior view of a Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. Another was the silhouette of a man. There was a photo of a courthouse, tacked to a newspaper clip saying: Murder Suspect Acquitted. Finally, the photo he hated most of all stared at him. An older, golden version of that Bonnie character, staring with human eyes. The killer himself, in his favorite suit.
His wife, Suzie, woke up the next morning and noticed once again Robert was not in bed. She walked downstairs to see her husband with a cup of coffee, who gave her a tired “good morning”. She knew what he was up to last night– he was terrible at keeping secrets, constantly muttering under his breath about spring locks, animatronics that double as suits, William Afton, and how he was still out there. Ever since he put together his “evidence” on that board and did research on the topic, he was sure the killer was somewhere, and even thought he was after their family. Everyone else? They were sure he was going insane.
“Honey,” Suzie spoke in an even tone,”What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, sweetheart. Everything’s fine.”
Robert was lying. Suzie must truly be crazy if she doesn’t believe him! Everyone thought he was delusional, but he knew that psychopath was somewhere, and he was gonna find out.
“It’ll be fine!”
“I can’t let them get hurt!”
“They won’t get hurt! Just let them go.”
“I’m coming with.”
It was a rough start to Robert’s day. He not only forgot his youngest daughter’s birthday, but he also found out she wanted to go to that cursed place, Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. He couldn’t let his wife and daughters go alone. He grabbed a large knife from the kitchen and slid it into his jacket, just in case.
He had never been so on edge- but Liz and Tina seemed happy. The music was blaring from the stage as Freddy sang, his lips slightly off-sync with the words. Bonnie was strumming on his fake guitar, and Chica was dancing to the beat. Foxy was singing sea shanties and telling stories of the vast ocean. Kids were eating pizza, and adults were looking bored.
“Maybe this isn’t so bad,” Robert said with a sigh.
“I told you so.”
Robert was content. He turned, only to see Liz wandering off into the dark backroom…
“No!” he screamed. He shot out of his chair, and almost ran to get her, then something strange happened. He blinked and she wasn’t there. She was at his side like before. Everyone stared at Robert, like he screamed for no reason. Did he? He smiled awkwardly and sat back down. The show was almost over, and he could leave. Casually, he took one last look at the back, just to be sure. Then he saw it. The thing he feared most, staring at him from around the corner.
He drew the knife and yelled as he ran at the golden rabbit. He knew it was William Aftom the second he saw it. People were screaming, as they should. But why aren’t they looking at the rabbit? he thought. Then he realized they were looking at him. There was no killer, just Robert, screaming and wielding a knife. The restaurant cleared out rapidly after that. What was wrong with him?
Robert had not calmed down since the incident yesterday, but couldn’t quite remember what happened. Reports said he badly injured a man in his distress. Luckily, no one there knew him. He knew he wouldn’t sleep tonight, so he decided to do some research on Afton. He’d always wanted to know about the killer’s personal life- it might reveal his location. He opened his laptop, only to hear a mysterious noise upstairs. Was it what he thought it was?
The world seemed to grow darker and colder as he grabbed the knife from his jacket and walked up the creaking stairs. Did his house suddenly look different? Shadier? Gloomier? He couldn’t tell. He opened the door to the master bedroom where his wife was. Then he saw it.
A mysterious form approached him, mostly obscured by shadows that didn’t exist. The killer! Robert’s head began to spin as adrenaline rushed through him. Rage coursed through his veins.
He ran to the figure, grabbing it and bashing it repeatedly against the wall. It wasn’t as heavy as he thought. It made a horrible buzzing scream, but Robert didn’t stop. He bent its head back and made a large slice across the neck.
He still felt wrong. Were there more there? He crossed the hall and reached the bedroom his daughters shared.
His daughters! Were they okay? He threw open the door, and it all became a blur. Two small figures rushed at him- animatronic endoskeletons! Afton had probably made them to help in his killings. Luckily they weren’t too tough- a stab in each metal skull and they stopped moving. Oil spurted out of their heads in a torrent.
Robert grinned. All these years of hunting Afton, and the villain had come right to his doorstep. The nightmare was over.
Quickly the thrill of victory faded, however, and Robert began to frantically look around. Where were the girls?
He briefly spotted a bloody stain on Tina’s bed, but calmed, as it was actually oil, leaking out of the skeleton.
Then he realized it was blood.
The world shifted.
The house was no longer dark and gloomy. Was any of this real?
Then he saw the bodies. His wife, in the room over, spurting blood out of a slit on her neck. His daughters, covered in bruises and cuts.
“No…”
His eyes fell on the mirror and saw the thing that pushed him over the edge. He saw himself, but he was not Robert. He was the rabbit-suited psychopath, the shining gold suit obscured by dripping gore.
He had become the thing he feared most.
The officers stood over a rather disturbing scene. Four people dead; a woman, two little girls, and a man, whose loose grip held a knife.
“That guy looks a bit tired for a corpse,” an officer commented.
“Keep a professional attitude, Johnson. This is a murder-suicide case.”
As they left, they passed by a bulletin board labeled “The Afton Case”. It was noticebly empty.
Story 3: The Song
–NOW–
Martin crept through the hall, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible. He’d seen dozens of movies where the characters had to sneak around, but they’d never been in a well-lit school.
Why was he here?
Because high school was a lonely place.
Ok, maybe we should back up a little further.
Martin had never exactly been the popular kid, but high school made things significantly worse. The few friends he had were spread so thinly through the enormous building that he didn’t share a single class with any of them. They were doing a lot better than he was, too, having all found new friends in their classes. He’d tried that, of course, but it’d never gone well.
However, yesterday, he’d found himself talking to Jeffrey Grey- one of the most popular kids in school. Martin had no idea how it’d happened, and it hadn’t lasted for very long, but it felt good.
His dad hadn’t seemed too happy when he’d told him, and had encouraged him to befriend someone else. Sure, Jeffrey had been caught driving drunk once or twice, but Martin would be careful. Maybe he could be the designated driver for the group, or something.
This was something Martin did- come up with ideal scenarios, and kind of expect them to go as planned. One conversation with Jeffrey was surely enough for some kind of foothold to be established with the high school elites, right?
Take a wild guess.
Martin had already felt out of place walking up to the table in the cafeteria. It was full of rich-looking white kids, who were discussing the events of the day. They all turned to stare at him as he tried to sit down, their conversations pausing. He couldn’t help but feel like his dark skin was the main thing that made him stick out to them.
“What’re you doing here, uh- Marcus?” One girl had said, like he was lost.
Martin stuttered. “Um, actually, it’s Martin. I just figured…y’know there was an empty spot…”
A hand gripped his shoulder. Martin turned to see a big blonde guy looming over him. “Actually, there isn’t. Mind clearing the way, buddy?”
Martin awkwardly stood back up, and walked away, his back to the giggles that began to erupt from the group.
He had bumped into Jeffrey later that day, and asked him what it would take to be accepted by the group. Jeffrey’s answer had been simple.
“Look, Martin, you’re just too much of goody-two-shoes. You’re just not ready to hang out with us.”
‘Well, what do I have to do to prove I am?!”
Jeffrey had thought for a moment. “Ok, here’s something. You know that display case by the history classrooms? Steal something from there.”
Martin was dumbfounded. “Wait, but isn’t it right across the hall from the principal’s office? She could see me!”
“That’s kind of the point. If you want to get somewhere in this life, you have to take risks. Just grab something, anything from there. It’s not locked.”
Martin tried to protest, tried to get a different test, but in the end he relented. Jeffrey promised to be waiting in the back parking lot at 4:00. Martin accepted, knowing that the halls would be mostly empty by then.
That leads us to where we began- Martin, an awkward teenager, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible in order to not get in trouble.
Finally, he arrived at the case. He glanced into the principal’s office. No one in line of sight.
He looked around one last time, and slid the case’s window open.
Martin had never really paid attention to the case, and was a bit surprised by the contents. It was a bunch of old artifacts from Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.
Martin had never been, but he recognized the objects easily. An animatronic hand was displayed on a small podium. Mr Cupcake, Chica’s best friend, stared at Martin from a shelf. A microphone, some Faz-Coins, and an old soda cup sat on the case’s floor, lovingly displayed.
Martin was confused- why stock the case with artifacts from a long-dead pizzeria franchise?
His question was answered when he noticed the poster on the case’s door. It read: The Rampton High School History Club Presents: The Freddy Fazbear Missing Children Incident.
Oh, yeah. Martin had heard about those. Apparently a couple of children were killed (well, they went missing, but almost forty years later they hadn’t been found, so…) in a Freddy Fazbear’s location in some town west of here back in the eighties. There were suspects, but no one was ever convicted in court.
Whatever. All that mattered was proving himself to Jeffrey and his friends.
He scanned the case. What to take, what to take…
A Faz-coin? The Cupcake? No, no, they were too small, too easy. If he really wanted to impress, he should take something big.
Then his eyes fell towards the back corner. Leaning against it was a guitar.
It was fake, obviously. It’s not like Bonnie, the guitarist, was actually playing live music. But it looked pretty real: designed after a Flying V style electric guitar,
If anything would impress the others, it was this. Delicately, Martin pulled out the guitar, being careful not to jostle any of the other items. He didn’t know whether Jeffrey would let him return it or not, but he hoped so. The large instrument’s disappearance wouldn’t be unnoticed for long.
Martin gave one last look into the office and around the halls. No one here.
He closed the glass door, and ran, the guitar tucked under his arm.
He had no idea he was being followed.
–THEN–
Jeremy jumped out of bed. “Today! The party’s today!”
He’d been up for an hour, but Papi told him he should always try to sleep until seven. Jeremy got the feeling Papi had done this more for his own sleep than his, which, fair. But how could he not be excited?
From this, you might think it was Jeremy’s birthday. Nope: it was actually Cassidy’s, one of his best friends.
Sure, he wouldn’t be getting any presents. But Cassidy was having a sleepover! It would be his first, and he was hyped to stay up too late and eat junk food. But that wasn’t even the best part.
Before the sleepover, this afternoon, they were going to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.
Jeremy had only been once, years ago. He didn’t remember it too well, but from his friends’ descriptions it sounded like paradise.
Pizza, cupcakes, and all the soda you could drink? Dozens of arcade games? That was already enticing enough. But what really sealed the deal were the animatronics.
Jeremy had a bit more experience with them. He’d seen them in the commercials, and in their animated cartoon show Freddy and Friends. He loved every one of them: Lead singer Freddy, friendly Chica, swashbuckling Foxy- but his favorite was Bonnie.
There was something about that rock’n’roll rabbit that was enchanting. And he’d clearly held this affection his whole life, because he’d gotten a Bonnie action figure that one time he’d gone to Freddy’s. He didn’t remember it, but Papi confirmed it was from them, and Jeremy wasn’t complaining.
He held it even now, his fingers tracing over the smooth plastic. He smiled, and put it in an obvious spot. Jeremy planned to take it to the restaurant. He wasn’t sure why- maybe just to compare it to the real Bonnie.
The morning went by slowly. It always happens when one is looking forward to something. Jeremy was bored, and by noon was splayed out on the couch, moaning.
“Ugh… come on, time, go. Go!”
Papi came out of the kitchen, and sat down on the couch next to him. “Jeremy, mijo, a watched pot never boils. Look away from the clock.”
“But I’m bored! There’s nothing to do! Can I watch TV?”
“You’ll be up all night doing that.” Papi paused, then smiled. “You want me to play you some songs?”
Jeremy sighed. “Sure, I guess.”
Papi got up, and returned a minute later with his guitar.
“Alright, what do you want to hear? I just learned how to play that Material Girl song that’s rising up the charts…”
Jeremy thought, then smiled. “Play our song.”
“Jeremy, I’ve played that a million times. Don’t kids your age like pop or rock or- well, not this?”
“We do. But I like this better.”
Papi grinned. “Very well.”
And Papi played.
He was right; he had played this many times before. But that was because Jeremy loved it. He felt connected to it.
Strange, because the song didn’t have any words. It hadn’t even been written for the guitar- its intended instrument was a piano.
But Papi had a reason for loving it so much. He’d told Jeremy it years ago after one particularly emotional rendition.
“Ah, mijo.” Papi had said. “I first heard this song…shortly after your birth.”
Jeremy had sighed sadly. “So also right after Mom died…”
“Yes. I was sitting in a chair, right next to her. They were preparing to take her away- just…letting me say goodbye. But there was more to the story than I’ve ever told you. Your mother died bringing you into the world, but you weren’t in good shape. The doctors thought you might die, too.”
“I didn’t know that.” Jeremy had said, surprised.
“I sat there, having just lost the love of my life- and I might have been about to lose my beautiful child. Then, this song played on the radio. I started humming along to it, and then began to cry. The song was sad. However, there was something else about it. Something that made me think everything would be ok.
A minute later, the doctors came into the room with you. Said they’d fixed whatever was wrong with you. They gave you to me, and I held my baby boy in my arms for the first time. Since then this song has always touched me.”
“But why?!” Jeremy had asked, incredulously. “How could you like a song that played right after Mom died? No matter how good it is, that should’ve ruined it!”
“Listen, Jeremy. The song is a thoughtful one, and there are many ways to interpret its tune. But the way I’ve always understood it is this: horrible things happened, and life is and will be hard. Still, there is always hope in the darkest of hours, and we can move on to a better future. And, of course, there will be a day when all suffering ends.”
Jeremy stared, dumbfounded. Papi chuckled. “I don’t expect you to understand all that philosophical nonsense. I just have one question- do you enjoy listening to the song?”
“Yes!” Jeremy had cheered.
“That’s all that matters.”
And Jeremy had enjoyed listening to it, and enjoyed listening to it now.
“So, what time are you leaving again?” Papi asked, strumming the final notes.
“Two o’ clock!” Jeremy reminded him.
“Huh.” Papi pondered. “I thought Cassidy’s parents- the Zhaos, right?- always went to visit the Mrs’ parents on Wednesday afternoons. That’s why you couldn’t go over last week, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So they’re not going this week?”
Jeremy frowned. “No, they are. They’re just dropping Cassidy off at Freddy’s.”
“What!?” Papi stood up, shocked. “You didn’t tell me you kids would be there alone!”
“I did! That night when I first told you about the sleepover!”
Papi put his face in his hands. “Oh, mijo. I had just come home from work, I was exhausted. I might not have heard that part.”
“Well, you have now. Why does it matter, the five of us will stick together. Other kids go on their own all the time.”
“It’s not safe!” Papi yelled. “Do I have to remind you of that poor girl who was murdered two years ago?”
“She was locked outside the restaurant! She wasn’t inside.”
“I think that a deranged killer could get inside if they wanted to. Surely you understand why a kid being unattended there is unacceptable.”
Jeremy balled his little fists. “Alright, then you come with. I don’t care!”
“You know I have an evening shift at the convenience store! I couldn’t stay the whole time.” Papi sighed. “Listen, they said they’d bring you to the sleepover, right? You can go to that.”
“Are you kidding?! I’m not missing Freddy’s! The other kids get to go all the time, but I don’t!”
Papi sighed. “Jeremy, you know why…”
Jeremy stood up as well, and glared at his father. “Yeah, I know. It’s because we’re poor! Whose fault is that?”
Even as he said it, he regretted it, but it was too late.
Papi stared, then grabbed his arm. “That’s it! You’re in time out.”
He dragged Jeremy into his room. “You better behave yourself, or you’re not going to that sleepover.”
Papi slammed the door behind. “You’re in there for ten minutes. Think about what you said!”
Shocked, Jeremy slumped against the bed. His day was ruined.
The reverberations of the door shook his dresser, causing the Bonnie figure to fall to the ground in front of him. He picked it up, contemplating it.
Bonnie’s smooth plastic eyes seemed to be staring into him, as if asking when he’d come to visit.
Jeremy narrowed his own eyes. If his father wouldn’t take him, he’d take care of this himself.
Luis sat on the couch, starting to feel guilty. What Jeremy had said was uncalled for, but he was just a kid dealing with disappointment. Perhaps he had been too harsh.
He walked down the hall, and knocked on Jeremy’s door. “Mijo, listen…I’m sorry. You can come out now, if you want.”
No answer. Luis sighed. “Alright, I understand if you want to be alone for a while.”
Around two hours passed. Cassidy’s Freddy Fazbear party had begun. Luis figured Jeremy was feeling even more bummed out. He still hadn’t come out of his room, though.
Luis returned and knocked again. “Jeremy, I have to go to work soon. Can we please talk before I leave?”
No answer, again.
Luis frowned. “Jeremy, I’m done with this silent treatment. I’m coming in now.”
He opened the door.
Jeremy was nowhere to be seen.
Panicking, Luis looked around, trying to see if he was hiding.
What he saw was the window open.
He ran towards it. They were on the first floor, and it appeared Jeremy had taken advantage of that. Squashed patches of grass in the shape of footprints led to the sidewalk- leading vaguely in the direction of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, halfway across town.
Luis cursed. He ran over to the phone on the wall, and called the police.
“Jeremy, you are going to be in so much trouble when you get back.” he muttered as the phone rang.
Quite sad reflecting on it- that Luis thought Jeremy would come back at all.
–NOW–
“Finally, I’m going to be popular!”
Martin hummed to himself as he headed towards the lot. He kept thinking about how great it’d be- to always have someone to sit with, to always have someone to hang out with on the weekend, to be able to always rely on someone. He’d never be alone again.
Finally he arrived at the EXIT door. “Alright, new High School life, here I come!”
Martin opened the door and walked out confidently, preparing to see Jeffrey’s impressed face.
Instead, he saw dozens of them, all laughing.
Most of the popular kids from the table were there, all holding their phones and recording him.
Martin’s face turned red as he realized what was going on. Jeffrey walked to the front of the crowd and grinned mockingly at him. “Wow, Martin. I always knew you were a huge Faz-Head, but now you’ve turned to a life of crime for it? I’m ashamed.”
“But- but you said I could hang out with you if I stole this!”
“You admitted that pretty quickly, loser. Did you really believe that, though? Why would we ever hang out with someone like you?”
Tears began to form in Martin’s eyes. He started running, pushing through the group, towards the woods behind the school.
“Yeah, that’s right. Go back where you belong!” Jeffrey taunted him. “Maybe there’s a weasel or bunny that’ll be your friend in there.”
A surge of anger went through Martin. He spun back towards Jeffrey, and smacked him in the leg with the guitar.
Jeffrey screamed, and stumbled back. He was caught by one of the bigger group members. Quickly, he righted himself and glared at Martin.
“You little jerk! I’ll make sure you never make another friend again at this school.”
Stunned, Martin backed away, then ran directly into the forest, his back to the jeers and threats of people he thought he could trust.
–THEN–
Jeremy couldn’t believe it. He was here.
It’d taken him an hour to get across town on foot, but he’d made it to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.
To be honest, it wasn’t quite like he’d expected. He’d sort of thought it would look different from all the other buildings, as if the kiddie fun would’ve burst through the seams and colored the outsides. For the most part, it was just a normal building- concrete, brick, and glass, all in a simple squarish shape. However, the sign on top certainly made it stand out- a huge cartoon bear’s face grinned down at him, with the establishment’s name up in rainbow lights below it.
Jeremy had to wait a little, since the others hadn’t gotten there yet, but not too long. Within ten minutes, Cassidy’s car had pulled up. She got out, and said goodbye to her parents in the front seats. The other three clambered out of the car after.
They all seemed to be in good spirits. Gabriel and Fritz both excitedly gestured at the sign. Susie seemed happy to talk with Cassidy, though there was also a tone in her voice of smugness, like she’d gotten one over someone.
Cassidy noticed Jeremy as her car pulled away. “Hey, Jeremy!”
She ran over and high fived him. “What are you doing here? Mom said your dad wasn’t going to let you come.”
“Uh, he changed his mind.” Jeremy lied.
“That’s great!”
Susie walked up and pouted. “Well, your family’s a lot better than mine, then. My sister keeps trying to steal Gretchen from me, even though she’s mine!”
Gabriel laughed. “What, that stupid doll? Girls care about the weirdest things.”
“Girls are the weirdest things!” Fritz added.
They both laughed, stopping when Susie and Cassidy glared at them.
Susie turned back to Cassidy. “Anyway, like I was telling you, I hid Gretchen in a place Samantha won’t find her.”
Cassidy grinned. “Hope it’s a good hiding place, cause you’ll be gone for a while. It’s party time!”
The group entered the restaurant. The party had already been reserved, so after Cassidy checked them in, the fun began. All of them enjoyed some pizza and cupcakes, Susie especially. They all clapped for the Fazbear band when the curtains raised. As the performance began, Jeremy held up his figure to the real Bonnie and compared them. He smiled. The toy’s head was a little big, but otherwise pretty accurate.
After the performance, the group got their cups of arcade tokens. All stopped to look at the Prize Counter, shelves full of presents to be handed out to children. As party guests, the Puppet animatronic would get them presents later. To be honest, that was the one part Jeremy wasn’t looking forward to- that lanky thing was creepy.
In the meantime, they could earn other prizes with tickets. Susie was eying a stuffed dog with a red collar- probably because she’d lost her own dog a few weeks ago. It had been hard on her and her sister, and even now Susie seemed to be tearing up a little.
She shook it off, and went to find a game to play. She was quickly entranced by the glowing lights of the Fruity Maze game, and loaded some tokens in.
The others went deeper into the arcade. Jeremy stopped at the Fazbear Adventure game, and played through it. It was so fun. The four animatronic made their way through a little colorful world, not worrying about conflicting schedules or money- just exploring, and having fun. Jeremy wished his life could be like theirs forever.
Unfortunately, he died just before the Auto-Chipperizer boss fight. GAME OVER flashed across the screen. A paltry ten tickets flowed out of the slot. Jeremy groaned. Maybe the others were having better luck.
He walked away from the machine to find Gabriel looking around anxiously. Noticing Jeremy, he asked, “Hey, have you seen Susie?”
“Did you check the Fruity Maze game? She didn’t seem like she was leaving anytime soon.”
“I did! I looked everywhere…”
Jeremy hesitated. “She’s…probably just in the bathroom. Don’t worry about it too much.”
But as Jeremy went to find another game, he struggled to follow his own advice.
–NOW–
Martin ran through the thicket, wiping his eyes. Maybe he should’ve seen this coming. In fact, he definitely should have.
“What now…” he muttered to himself. The group had betrayed his trust, and they had recorded his guitar theft and subsequent guitar attack.
He was going to be in so much trouble. Why had he done this? He should’ve just stayed away from those jerks.
Angrily, he threw the guitar away. It flew through the air, landing somewhere in a clump of bushes.
Whatever. His house was this way. He plodded on through the forest, wondering what to do next.
–THEN–
“Gabriel?”
Jeremy looked around. He couldn’t see his friend anywhere on the arcade floor.
He called Fritz and Cassidy over. “Guys, I can’t find Gabriel or Susie.”
“Huh.” Cassidy thought. Fritz looked a lot more immediately perturbed. “Oh, geez. What do you think happened to them?”
Fritz, being the oldest, was the most responsible and protective of the group. Jeremy tried to call him down. “It’s probably fine. They might have just gone outside for a breath of fresh air.”
Casssidy put her hand on Fritz’s shoulder. “Do you want to look for them?”
Fritz breathed, in and out. “Yeah…yeah, sure.”
He wandered off, beginning to call for them. Cassidy smiled nervously at Jeremy. “We’ll find them.” she said, though there was a bit of worry in her voice. She followed after Fritz.
This time, Jeremy didn’t move on. He was concerned, and continued searching around the arcade.
No luck. His worry turned to fear. He felt completely thrown off by all the flashing lights and 8-bit noises. Honestly, he had no idea what to do.
A hand grabbed his shoulder. Stunned, he spun around.
A giant golden rabbit stared back. Jeremy gasped and stumbled backwards.
Quickly he realized it was just a guy in a suit- sort of. Rather than just a thin layer of fabric with fur attached, it was closer to the animatronic plush suits- visible joints and seams, through which Jeremy swore he could see some mechanical parts.
The other strange thing was the character itself. Bonnie was bluish-purple, not yellow. The character was much skinnier as well. He did have a bow tie like Bonnie, but also wore a vest- both pieces purple with pale star designs instead of red.
The character tilted his head at Jeremy, studying him. Then he spoke.
“Hello, child. You look lost.”
Jeremy, who had been agitated before, calmed a little. The man’s voice from within was soothing, with a British accent. He sounded concerned, and caring.
“I…I guess I am. I can’t find my friends!”
The man knelt down, locking his gaze with Jeremy’s. His eyes were piercing, and silvery-grey in color. “Oh, well, that doesn’t sound good.”
He thought. “Wait a moment! Are you a member of the party being held for that young girl with the yellow dress?”
Jeremy stared, confused. “Yeah, I am. Her name is Cassidy.”
“Well, I took Cassidy and the other children to our special party room!”
Jeremy frowned. “I didn’t know you had one of those.”
The rabbit smiled. “Well, it’s only for the most special children.”
Jeremy mulled this over. “So, can I come?”
“Of course, my boy! You’re perfect.”
A smile grew on Jeremy’s face. The rabbit gestured at him to follow.
And he did, through and out of the maze of arcade machines.
They passed by the Prize Counter as the Puppet handed out a present to another kid. Maybe Jeremy was imagining it, but it seemed to be glaring at the rabbit man.
“I don’t like that thing.” Jeremy muttered.
“I’ve worked with it quite a lot.” the rabbit remarked. “Fascinating design, isn’t it?”
“Something about it just looks too…real.”
“I suppose that’s why it interests me so much.”
The rabbit opened a door against the back wall. Jeremy passed through, and entered a hallway.
“Is this a place kids should be? This seems like where the workers go.”
“Usually, but the special party room is back here. It needs to be hidden so not just any kid can go in.” The rabbit gingerly closed the door behind him.
He pointed across the hall, to a much heavier, industrial looking door. “There it is. A celebration for the ages awaits you.”
Eagerly, Jeremy ran to the door. With some difficulty, he pushed it open.
The room inside was dark and cramped. He couldn’t see anything.
But he could smell something. In the air hung a metallic scent, intermingling with that of rotten meat.
“Wha- where are the others?”
The light from the door was blocked by the man’s long shadow- then extinguished completely when the door shut.
His smooth voice floated through the darkness. “They’re right here, my child. Let me help you.”
He flicked the light on.
Jeremy’s friend laid before him, dead.
Their corpses had been arranged in a sick display- sat down in chairs around a table strung with birthday decorations. Balloons hung in the corner, and a banner above invited all to join in the birthday fun. No attempt was made to hide their slit throats, blood spilling from them like faucets.
“No…”
Jeremy tried to run, but the rabbit man grabbed him and threw him against the wall.
Several seconds passed as Jeremy struggled to push himself up. He heard something heavy hit the floor, and looked up weakly.
The rabbit man had taken the top of his costume off, and Jeremy saw the man beneath it.
His stomach was a roadmap of scars that seemed perfectly symmetrical, and was covered in blood and viscera. He was somewhat overweight, but still clearly strong.
He grabbed Jeremy by the throat. Jeremy struggled, to no avail.
The man looked at the table and grinned. “One empty seat…just for you.”
From somewhere in the suit, he pulled out a bloody knife. He put it up to Jeremy’s throat.
“Sweet dreams.” The knife slashed, and Jeremy’s light went out.
–NOW–
Martin put his key in the door and entered.
He closed the door behind him. “Dad?” he called out hesitantly. “I’m home.”
A note on the table caught his eye.
‘Martin- called in for a closing shift at the diner. Won’t be back till late tonight. Sorry.’
Martin sighed. Lena, dad’s boss, had been calling him in to work more and more hours, at least sixty a week at this point. It was wrong- she was taking advantage of his desperation. Martin barely even got to see him anymore. He missed doing puzzles, and watching old movies, and playing video games with him.
But most of all, he missed playing music with him. Dad often let him borrow his guitar, and he’d really gotten good.
He crashed on the couch. Why couldn’t life be easy like it used to?
Trying to relax, he watched some Youtube videos. He really couldn’t stop thinking about everything, though.
After an hour, he couldn’t sit still anymore. He walked back outside, hoping to get some fresh air.
Martin looked out at the forest, which began just a few yards behind his house. It was one of his favorite parts about living here. Of course it would probably get torn down in a few months to make room for more houses, so he wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.
They’d probably have trouble, though. The forest was thick- almost impossibly dense. In some portions it was almost like a wall of leaves and branches.
Which is why it was strange when a figure walked out without jostling a single sprout.
Martin gasped. It was more than that- he was passing through the bush.
The figure was small, and from all appearances seemed to be less than ten years old. He was colored with shades of gray, and was kind of translucent. Thick dark lines traced down from his eyes, like he’d cried so much the tear marks left a groove.
The boy didn’t seem surprised to see Martin, but was surprised to see him staring right at him. He moved a little to the left, and was shocked to see Martin’s terrified eyes follow him.
“You can see me!” He shouted excitedly.
“You’re- you’re a ghost!” Martin exclaimed, backing away.
The boy sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
He extended his hand. “Maybe we should introduce ourselves. I’m Jeremy.”
–THEN–
The first year was a descent.
Gradually Jeremy lost himself- to anger and to agony. He wasn’t alone- all the others walked the same path, becoming monsters out of a nightmare.
Had they killed people? Jeremy knew that’s what their Corrupted Selves- their dark alter egos that awoke during their night- wanted. They would always be helpless as their most evil, hateful, primal side arose and began to hunt, but after that it was like they were asleep. Maybe no one had died- maybe dozens.
It was hard to keep track of themselves. One moment they were in those ugly furry things- the next, a piece of them were in shiny newer models. Then those were gone, and they were back in the originals. They’d been broken down, melted down, and brought down to some underground facility, where there was another girl. She had seemed less fragmented than them, but she was still so desperate- so lonely.
At that point it got really confusing. Jeremy’s consciousness constantly shifted- from some bow-tie wearing fox to a bunny hand puppet to a tall dancing woman.
It didn’t end there. They escaped…through someone? As…wires?
Honestly, it got even weirder there. One piece of him stayed in the wire thing. Another piece was stranger. It was like it was in some sort of fake world; a game that reminded him of Fazbear Adventures. The last part was in some sort of greenish, musty building, filled with old Freddy Fazbear items.
Then, all of those parts were one again, and he was at Cassidy’s party.
It was peaceful. There was a cake, and balloons, and all of his friends were there- even Charlie.
So much of Jeremy’s existence since that first party had been disjointed- a story told in subtext and secrets. But at this party, his mind reformed, and the story became clear and linear.
He saw a light, and went towards it. It was so beautiful…
But something grabbed him- and the others. All of them were dragged back down to earth. It was different- they weren’t trapped in their robot bodies anymore. He could also tell they were closer than they’d ever been. It felt like…they were just one step away.
Susie had taken that step. Jeremy wanted to as well.
What was stopping them? Their Corrupted Selves.
Jeremy hadn’t really wanted to leave until now. As awful as this existence had been, he still wanted revenge on their killer. Being at the party, seeing it through to its end, made him lose that desire. But his Corrupted Self wasn’t so ready to let go.
Jeremy hadn’t been sure what to do- so he went home.
–NOW–
“Wait, wait. So you were Bonnie?”
“Well, I had his body.”
Martin paused, trying to take it all in. He was talking to a dead kid from the eighties, who’d spent decades possessing a stinky old rabbit robot- on his back porch.
“Ok, well that’s nice and all. Why are you here?”
“I need the guitar.” Jeremy said curtly.
Martin was taken aback. “That old fake thing? Why?”
“It’s…complicated.”
He looked around. “Where is it? I was following you from the school, but I lost you in the woods.”
Martin frowned. “Well, that’s a little creepy.” Hesitating for another moment, he confessed. “I, uh, actually threw it away.”
“What?!” Jeremy stood up, angry. “I need that guitar!”
“Why? It’s fake, you can’t actually play it.”
“I know, I know…” He put his face in his hands. “I just need it. I can’t understand why, but ever since I…found out…y’know…I’ve known I need it.”
“I don’t know.” Martin protested. “Since you found out what?”
Jeremy was silent. In fact, the whole backyard was pretty quiet.
Until it wasn’t.
Softly at first, then louder, the noise of an electric guitar being strummed floated through the breeze.
Martin and Jeremy both turned towards the woods, where the sound was emanating from.
Unlike when Jeremy had emerged, the leaves were being shaken, and branches were snapping. It was much more activity then would be caused even if Jeremy was physical, and it wasn’t hard to see why.
Bonnie the Bunny emerged from the undergrowth. But this wasn’t the Bonnie you’d see proudly displayed at Freddy Fazbear’s.
Like Jeremy, it had a slight translucent quality to it, though not quite as much. It was dingier, with black mold growing on its fuzzy skin. Its eyes were bloodshot- actually bloodshot, although the veins pulsing on the glass spheres flowed with inky black rather than hot red. Its teeth were the most obvious change- the length of cigarettes and as sharp as needles. The guitar sounds were louder than ever, though the nightmarish robot wasn’t playing any instrument.
It looked at both of them, seemingly confused by Martin’s presence. However, it moved past this pretty quickly. It charged towards Jeremy, making squishing noises as it ran through the damp grass.
“STAY.” A guttural voice echoed from the abomination’s ragged throat as it drew closer.
Overcoming his shock, Martin tried to grab Jeremy’s hand, but passed right through it. Panicking, Martin ran inside and closed the back door. He immediately began to feel guilty about leaving Jeremy.
Luckily, Jeremy phased through the door a second later.
“Oh, right. Ghost.” Martin remembered. “Wait! Can that thing come inside too?”
“No. It’s sort of physical. It wants to hurt people. It’s still ghostly enough to touch spirits, though.”
Martin looked out the nearby window, half expecting the thing to have vanished. Nope; it was out there, staring back at him.
“So, is it gonna stick around?”
“As long as I’m here, yeah.”
Martin rubbed his temples. “Guess we need some kind of plan or something…”
“That’d be good.”
–THEN–
LUIS ALEJANDRO ESTEVEZ
1951-2009
A HUSBAND FOR THREE YEARS, A FATHER FOR NINE
BOTH IN THE ETERNITY TO COME
Jeremy fell to his knees, weeping in front of the tombstone.
Maybe he should have seen this coming. In fact, he definitely should have. It only now truly began to hit him how long he’d been gone- 38 years.
The world had changed so much, but Papi had been his constant. Every night, he dreamed of leaving whatever awful place he was in at the moment, and seeing his father again.
Now he was gone, Jeremy was fourteen years too late.
His father often talked about heaven, and about how Mom would be waiting for them there. How would it feel when she was the only one greeting him? He should be there too…well, he should be alive, but this was the next best thing.
The grave was on their old property, which was in disrepair. They had few living relatives, so the house was barely disturbed. After pulling himself together, Jeremy began to wander through it. It was almost the same- even his room. His dad hadn’t moved a single thing.
Eventually he found himself in his dad’s room. It was the one part that was really different. The old bookshelf was stuffed with titles about coping with loss and grief. The bed hadn’t been made, looking like he’d been pulled out of it. At least Papi had died peacefully…
Something on the end table caught his eye: a sheet of music that had been laminated, lovingly preserved.
It was the song. Their song.
Jeremy stared at it in awe. He hadn’t heard this since that day- the day everything changed. He tried to pick it up- but, y’know, ghost.
Even as he was phasing through it he felt the power within the song. Not the ink and paper- it wasn’t infected with agony or anything- but something within himself.
Right away he knew he needed to hear it. That was his final step.
Problem was, he wasn’t exactly in a position to play a guitar.
He couldn’t touch anything…except maybe something infested with emotions, preferably his own.
Huh. Could this…work?
Bonnie’s guitar was fake, but Charlie had talked about how infected objects could become more real.
Maybe it was stupid. But it was his only shot.
He left the house and began heading towards the old Freddy Fazbears. The guitar had been stored away in the back, so that weird surfer guy hadn’t gotten it for that haunted house place.
Jeremy took one last look at his dad’s grave.
“See you soon, Papi. I promise.”
–NOW–
“Geez.” Martin said, unsure of how exactly to respond.
“Yeah…” Jeremy responded. “Since it was my own agony, I was able to keep track of it. By the time I got there, it was gone. But I followed it to your school.”
“The History Club must have found it and taken it for their dumb display.” Martin groaned. He stood up, and peeked through the blinds. That hideous rabbit robot was still out there, staring up at him. They had gone up to the second floor, but the bunny hadn’t tried to break in.
Martin checked his clock. 9:13 PM. They’d spent a couple of hours hiding up here, hoping Bonnie would leave. Well, Martin had. Jeremy remained adamant that his ‘Corrupted Self’ wasn’t going anywhere.
They’d passed the time a number of ways. Just now Jeremy had caught Martin fully up to speed, but they’d done a lot of other things. Jeremy had marvelled as Martin played video games (“So you can build anything in BlockGame?”), and Martin had enjoyed Jeremy’s tales of normal life in the Eighties (“To be there during the rise of rap music…that must’ve been so cool…”).
“Anyway,” Martin continued. “Like I told you a minute ago, nothing weird happened to the guitar. It’s still just a prop.”
Jeremy sighed. “I was so sure. The more I followed the guitar, the less I felt like it was some meaningless instinct. It felt like my way home.”
“You really think all you need to do is hear this song?” Martin asked, still a little confused. “Maybe I could just look it up on YouTube or something.”
“No. All I know is that it has to be played for me. Not to me- for me.”
Martin frowned. “Well, do you think I can play it?”
Jeremy paused, taken aback. “You can play the guitar?!”
“Yeah, my dad and I sometimes play together.”
Jeremy gasped. “You can help me. All this time I thought the guitar would help me, but maybe the connection I felt with it was to lead me to you!”
“Wait, so you’re telling me that me stealing the guitar, and you following me, was all part of some sort of destiny thing? ‘Cause I don’t believe in that garbage.”
“Before tonight, did you believe in haunted animal robots?”
Martin sighed. “Fair point. But I’m not that good, and it takes me a long time to learn new songs.”
“It seems like we have some time before Corrupted Me tries anything. And I know the song; I can teach it to you.”
“Ok…I guess it’s our option. My guitar is downstairs, give me a second to get it.”
Martin dashed down the stairs and grabbed his instrument, which was leaning against the living room wall.
Through the window, Bonnie stared at him. It seemed to react when he picked up the guitar. The eerie music drifted into the house, and the thing’s eyes flashed with glowing black. It made no attempt to break in, but it seemed to be watching more intently.
It spoke again, though it was barely audible from behind a wall. Still, Martin picked up, “HE WILL STAY.”
Spooked, Martin dashed back upstairs, to see Jeremy eagerly waiting. “You ready?” He asked.
Martin sighed. “Yeah, let’s try this out.”
And so they tried. Jeremy had memorized the song from the sheet music he’d examined, and he relayed it to Martin, who in turn filled out an online sheet music template with the notes. Once the final symbol was added, the real test began.
Ok, fine, Martin had never been great at playing music, and that was starting to show now. He stumbled over the notes, and barely managed to hold a tune. Jeremy tried to help, but decades of playing a fake guitar while the actual music pumped out of nearby speakers failed to put him in a mentoring position. His advice was mostly, “You can do it!” and “Try to make it sound more…better”.
After a couple of hours, though, Martin finally got the hang with it. He played through the entire song, with only one or two mistakes. He grinned at Jeremy once it ended, expecting the boy to start ascending to heaven or something.
But Jeremy merely raised an eyebrow at Martin. “I don’t think it worked.”
Martin groaned. “But why? I messed up twice, maybe!”
“I doubt this is something where you have to play it exactly right. I think the problem is you’re playing the music, but not the song.”
“What the heck is that supposed to mean?” Martin responded.
“You’re not putting your heart into it. There isn’t enough emotion. It’s just notes and lines to you.”
Annoyed, Martin snapped back. “Listen, I’m sorry I don’t have the same connection to this song as you. In case you forgot, this isn’t the last memory I shared with my dad before I ran off and got murdered!”
Silence.
Martin immediately regretted what he’d said. Jeremy gasped, then turned away. He began shuddering, seemingly pulsating with anger.
“Oh my gosh, Jeremy. I’m so sorry! I just meant…no, no. It wasn’t ok. I’m just sorry.”
Jeremy turned. He wasn’t seething with rage, though; he was crying- greyish tears carving those lines into his cheeks.
“No, it’s- you’re right. The last thing I ever said to my Papi was blaming him for us being poor. And he was right about keeping me home, too. The killer was there, in the restaurant. I died, and left him alone.”
“You didn’t mean to.”
“But I did. If I had just listened to him…”
Martin sighed. “I know that feeling. My dad told me not to hang out with these other kids. He said they were a bad influence. I thought he was exaggerating, but they made me steal that guitar, and then recorded me with it. They’re going to get me in trouble, and I’m still as much of an outcast as ever.”
Jeremey wiped his eyes. “Well, if you hadn’t stolen the guitar, we’d have never met. That’s something good, right?”
Martin smiled hesitantly. “Yeah, that’s something. I guess stealing the guitar did get me a new friend- though I expected them to be teens my age, not the ghost of an eight-year old.”
They laughed. Martin’s worry quickly returned. “Still, like I said, I’m not attached to this song. So unless you want me to play Smoke on the Water, I don’t-”
“Wait, Smoke on the Water?” Jeremy asked. “I’ve heard that song before. Why’d you mention it?”
Martin blushed, embarrassed. “Well, it’s just this song my dad liked when he was younger. And it was the first song I learned when I started playing guitar with him. It’s nothing special, lots of beginners start out with it.”
Now he wiped his eyes clear of forming tears. “It’s just…there’s a lot of good memories, we just don’t get to play as much anymore. I miss him.”
Martin chuckled. “It’s kind of stupid, I know. Now come on, let’s give your song another try.”
“Actually…” Jeremy began, “I think we need to give your song a try.”
“Wait, what?” Martin exclaimed. “This isn’t time to play songs just for the fun of it. We need to help you get to heaven or something, right?”
“We need to try something different. If you have an emotional connection to this song with your own father, maybe that’ll work. After all these years of being filled to the brim with agony, me and the others have become pretty good at sensing emotion. Maybe I can sense yours. And maybe, that’ll be enough.”
Martin stared, disbelieving. “That honestly sounds kind of far-fetched. And besides, what’s the rush? We’ve got all the time in the world!”
A scream of anger came from outside the window. Martin, confused, opened the blinds.
The dark Bonnie screamed again. Now that he got a closer listen, it didn’t just sound angry- it sounded triumphant. It began banging on the porch door.
“Oh, crap!” Martin yelled. He looked back at Jeremy, nervous. “What’s got big purple out there so agro?!”
Jeremy’s face morphed into an expression of horror. He turned to see Martin’s clock. “Crud, it’s midnight. We- we always were at our worst at midnight.”
He grabbed Martin’s arm. “Please, play the Smoke song or whatever it’s called. It’s our only chance!”
Martin hesitated. From below, there came the sound of shattering glass and drywall.
“He broke the door down.” Martin realized. “Ok, fine!”
He grabbed the guitar. “Well, Jeremy, if we die- or if I die and whatever that thing wants to do to you gets done- at least we went out listening to a really great guitar riff!”
And he began to play the song.
Music can take on a lot of different meanings depending on the situation.
For Martin, that was the case right now.
Before, Smoke on the Water had always been a great song- one of the best, really. He’s always enjoyed playing it with his dad, and he had a lot of good memories of it. Those memories had never been forgotten, and he looked back on them often.
But now, it was like he was seeing all of those sessions from a new perspective. He wasn’t just playing alongside his dad- he was loving his dad, and his dad was loving him back. Those aspects of the memory were so much clearer now.
From below, he heard stomping- heavy mechanical footsteps that drew closer with every note. And yet, he kept playing, beginning to believe Jeremy was right.
What assured him of this even more was the new song that mingled with his own- Jeremy’s song. It wasn’t coming from any discernible instrument, but from Jeremy himself. The boy watched Martin’s work in awe, barely even registering his own tune.
The songs were so different- one was classic 70s rock, the other was some classical piano piece. And yet, as the deep strings echoed through the room, they began to harmonize- in modern terms, mashup.
It was more than the sum of its parts. The harmony was a message- a message of appreciation to every father who had ever cared for their child, most of all the pair’s own.
Martin and Jeremy’s fathers weren’t perfect. They were human, and so they faltered. But it took so much to do what they had done, and they always led in love.
And Martin and Jeremy loved them right back.
Finally, the melody came to an end. Tears were streaming down both of their faces, but they weren’t exactly sad tears. They were both overcome with waves of emotion, love first among them.
Martin sniffled, then started. “Wait, shouldn’t Bonnie have reached us by now?”
Jeremy paused, wiping his cheek. “Uh, yeah. Maybe.”
Hesitantly, Martin walked over and peeked out his door.
Bonnie stood just outside it.
He screamed and fell back, before regaining his composure and putting his arm in front of Jeremy. “You won’t hurt him!”
He glared at the hideous monster- and realized it wasn’t so hideous and monstrous anymore.
It now looked like an actual Fazbear Animatronic. The black mold was gone, and its teeth looked normal as well. Black ooze was pouring out of its eyes, which sounds creepy, but it was less like it was still producing it, and more like it was purging it from its system. And with the way it was pouring out, it looked a lot like human tears- Jeremy’s tears.
It ducked under the door frame and walked in. It fixed its eyes on Jeremy.
Jeremy gestured for Martin to let him pass. He walked up to Bonnie.
“Is- is i t time? Are you- am I- ready?”
The rabbit wiped the blackish goo away from its eyes. Already the substance was beginning to dissolve. It shrugged, then seemed to reconsider and nodded.
Jeremy nodded back. “Well,” he said, looking back at Martin, “I guess this is goodbye?”
“Yeah…I guess it is.” Martin said, trying not to show his sadness. “I guess…see you on the flipside…”
Jeremy ran back to him and hugged him, though his arms only reached halfway up Martin’s torso. “Yeah. Thank you, for everything.”
Jeremy grabbed Bonnie’s hand. Both ghostly figures smiled at Martin one more time, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind them.
Recovering from the shock, Martin ran towards the door and opened it again, wanting to ask where exactly they were going.
They were gone, as if they’d never been there at all.
The universe can often be a cruel place. And yet sometimes, just sometimes, it recognizes when someone should be rewarded.
The next day, Jeffrey would walk into school with a special swagger in his step. The annoying brat…Marcus, right?…was going to get what he deserved.
Sure, he’d kind of exaggerated the wound he’d gotten from the guitar. He’d told the others it broke the skin and was bleeding, when in reality there was just a quickly-fading bruise. Still, he’d be sure to play it up again for the principal, and get that stupid kid expelled.
He was a bit surprised, then, to see the guitar, returned to the case as if it’d never been removed.
He stormed into the principal’s office and demanded they check the security footage. He was shot down pretty quickly on the grounds that the school had no cameras.
Still, he had all the proof he needed. Quickly, Jeffrey texted all of his friends, demanding they send the footage from the parking lot. Within moments, he got a series of unexpected responses- the videos were gone, every single recording.
Jeffrey began to freak out. He claimed that Marcus- er, Martin- had sneaked into their houses and deleted the footage, all in mass conspiracy against him. He demanded that they investigate that little…
At that point, Jeffrey used a no-no word. He was promptly given a week of detention.
Later when Martin came to school, a lot of kids came by to ask him what had gotten Jeffrey so mad at him. He answered their questions, and eventually most grew bored of him. However, two of them- a boy named Gavin and a girl named Jo- had found him quite friendly and fun.
Soon enough, Martin finally made some friends.
Still, none of that has happened yet. Martin has just woken up, after his long evening of ghost babysitting and music lessons. He walked down the hall, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
To his surprise, he saw his dad, frying some eggs.
“Dad!” Martin exclaimed.
“Hey, kiddo!” his dad turned. “You hungry? I’m making breakfast.”
“But don’t you have another late shift tonight? You need sleep.”
“Nope. I quit today. I have a new job now.”
“Really?! Where?”
His dad hesitated. “Well, the thing is…I actually got a job as a music teacher at your school. The pay’s pretty good- better than the diner, at least. I start next week. I know this might be a bit embarrassing for you, but you have to understand that I couldn’t stand working at the diner anymore…”
Dad’s explanation was interrupted by Martin hugging him excitedly. “That’s so great! I’m so happy for you!”
“Really? I thought you’d be at least a little self-conscious of having me at your school.”
Martin smiled softly. “A new friend helped me realize that a father who cares is something to be proud of. I know I haven’t told you this recently, but I love you, Dad.”
Dad gave him a smirk. “Geez, who’s this new friend? I want to thank them.”
“You probably won’t get the chance. He just…moved away.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. Hope he likes wherever he’s going.”
“I think he will. He’s got family there, and he’s wanted to go for a long time.”
Jeremy and Bonnie, two halves of one whole, walked through the misty landscape. There was a bright light up ahead, shining through the whitish fog.
Jermy talked to his alter ego, as he had their whole walk. “It’s just…what if he hates me for leaving him alone for all those years?”
“You know- I know- that isn’t true. You heard the song, you understand. He loved you, he loves you, he’ll love you.”
From up ahead, beyond the light, Jeremy heard something. A man and a woman, talking and laughing. One voice familiar, one not, and yet he immediately identified both.
“Mom? Papi?”
The boy and the bunny ran forward, never once looking back.
A grin came across his face. The grayish tear trails finally vanished from his cheeks.
The boy and the bunny ran forward, never once looking back.
Trace Thompson's Guide To Monsters 