Chapter Text
Night 7
The man sighed lightheartedly as he sat down in the chair. It’s been a rather long night, thanks to having to deal with those Frenchmen and their antics. Still, he would be lying if he didn’t find them enjoyable. Especially the youngest, Trobriand, if he remembered the name correctly. He was the only one who cared about what happened here.
It’s a shame it would be their final night.
He watched the cameras, silence broken only with the sounds of the fan and the lights. As expected, there was nothing. But he still liked to watch the place, it reminded him of the first location, though the quality had taken a big hit. Well, the expected result, since he wasn’t the one running it… Or his old friend.
He snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed the doors open. And the one who entered was none other than the youth with a moustache. It was very early, what was he doing here? Surprise didn’t end there either, as he closed the door behind him. Was he alone? How… Risky. He grabbed his trusty knife, expecting him to make his way to the office. Instead, he went to the backstage. The man switched the camera to watch him. The boy was searching for something. He didn’t seem afraid of the heads or the endoskeleton, the man admired. After a few minutes, the Frenchman punched the table the endoskeleton was on with frustration and got out of the room.
The man didn’t fear the Frenchman at all. The aide was, unlike his previous victims, older and could fight back. Where is the fun in killing him? That’s why he didn’t want to get his hands dirty for this instance.
The aide walked through the pizzeria wildly, yet with a purpose in mind. He, for some reason, didn’t visit the office. Neither did he notice the cameras were moving. Perhaps he was too focused. Rubbing his eyes, he went to the restroom to wash his face. When he got out, the aide stood still for a moment, his eyes widening slightly. Man in the cameras couldn’t see it but he knew what he was looking at.
He found it.
The aide disappeared for what felt like hours. Then, he reappeared, with some newspapers in his hands, looking both excited and horrified. He stopped suddenly and looked up.
Ah, finally got caught.
The boy blinked as he realized he was being watched. He muttered something and reached out to his weapons, making him drop what he found in the process. He stared at the hallway and the papers. He leaned down and started to collect them once more.
It was time to go. But one last gift.
The man clicked a button and a song he dearly loved rang out throughout the pizzeria, no doubt catching the aide off-guard with how loud it was. He left the office in a leisurely fashion, his arms swaying with the music, dancing actually. He sang with delight, with the lyrics he found quite appropiate, both with the language and the meaning.
"Toréador, en garde! Toréador!
Toréador!
Et songe bien, oui,
songe en combattant
Qu'un œil noir te regarde,
Et que l'amour t'attend,
Toréador, l'amour, l'amour t'attend!"
Meanwhile
“Monsieur le Maréchal, do calm down.” Gudin pleaded, holding on to his hat as the carriage went like lightning.
“No.” The Iron Marshal fired back.
“Trobriand is absent without official leave, yes, but it’s not like he didn’t mention where he was going.” Oudinot argued.
“I think it would be far safer for the kid if he went to, I don’t know, a married guy’s home. Right now, he is in the equivalent of Eylau.” Morand said with some concern.
“Those beasts would be merciful compared to what I’d do.” Davout grumbled.
“Indeed, so I’m caught between whether I should pray that he is still alive or went in the route of Gudin’s previously alive best friend.” Friant said, though he did regret it when he noticed that, for a brief moment, Davout looked scared.
“I swear, if he is still kicking, I’m gonna hand him to Soult first.” The Marshal said quietly.
“Oh dear.” Gudin replied.
Just a few minutes later, the group arrived at the pizzeria. Davout didn’t wait for the carriage to stop as he jumped off, rushing to the entrance. His subordinates quickly followed him.
“Like I said, be calm, it’s not 12AM yet so Trobriand should probably be safe.” Oudinot tried to calm his good friend.
“Why are you all so damn calm about this?” Davout hissed.
“Because I trust him. I think others do too.” Friant replied.
Davout opened his mouth but couldn’t answer back. He marched down the hallway to their workplace. Since the lights were on, his aide could be there. He was proven correct as the aide jumped from the room.
With his pistol in one hand, and his sabre in the other. Both pointed at his Marshal.
In a split second, before two men could recognize each other, Morand had jumped in front of Davout.
“Trobriand. It’s me, Morand.” He said gently, his hand reaching out to the pistol.
“M-Morand. Monsieur le-“ Trobriand whispered, his voice breaking. He lowered his weapons.
“…You have great self-control.” Davout replied in a genuine tone.
Trobriand blushed.
“Perks of being a III Corps soldier.” He smiled, though it didn’t have its usual warm.
“You came here to find something. Were you succesful?” Friant asked.
Trobriand leaned towards the office to check the hour. 11.50PM.
“Let’s get inside, we should have enough time. And yes.” The aide replied.
As the group headed inside, they saw that the pink cake with eyes that was on the table had been smashed to bits. Gudin looked at Trobriand quizzically.
“It was watching us. Or rather, someone.” He explained.
“Huh?” Oudinot replied in a shocked tone.
“I’ll get to it in a bit but now look at this.” The young man said as he presented a bulletin like the one that advertised this accursed job, though this one looked much older.
“ ‘Kids vanish at local pizzeria’…” Davout murmured.
“Someone dressed like one of those things and kidnapped them…” Gudin said with horror, imagining his own children.
Trobriand nodded with grimace.
“And this one.” He showed another paper.
“ ‘Five children now reported missing’.” Friant read aloud, narrowing his eyes.
“The bodies were not found?” Morand said, somewhat astonished.
“Oh no…” Oudinot’s eyes widened.
With a sigh, Trobriand began to read the third paper, which mentioned the pizzeria being shutdown due to sanitation issues.
“ ‘…Parents reportedly noticed what appeared to be blood and mucus around the eyes and mouths of the mascots.’.”
“Christ…” Morand put his hand to his mouth.
“So… We’re facing dead children…” Davout said quietly.
“This is absurd. Ghosts, really?” Oudinot said in protest, in an attempt to cleanse his eyes from the news.
“Oudinot, you have seen what those animals are like. This illogical situation is the most logical explanation.” Friant argued back at his old friend.
“How did you find this, Trobriand?” Gudin asked.
“I was wandering through the pizzeria and then, near the bathrooms, I found a very small door or opening.” He began, keeping an eye on the clock. 11.55PM.
“It lead to a big room, it mostly empty except for some drawings with… crying children, these papers and…” Trobriand swallowed.
“What?” Morand insisted.
“Another one of those things.” Trobriand replied.
“Was it the yellow bear you mentioned a few nights ago?” Davout said as he cleaned his glasses, his hands gripping them tightly.
“No, but close. Instead of a bear, it was a bunny. And I think it is the mascot in question.” Trobriand played with his collars nervously.
“Why do you think so?”
“It looked old, very old. And it had 5 fingers instead of 4 like the rest of them.” Trobriand replied.
Silence ensued.
“Then, why keep it here?” Oudinot shifted anxiously.
“Despite what the news said, I believe the killer is still here.”
“That ‘here’ better mean not in this place.” Morand said, though with the look Trobriand gave, his fear was confirmed.
“He was here just a few minutes ago. He was watching me through the cameras and when I noticed, he fled. That’s why I set up an ambush.” Trobriand looked apologetically at the Marshal, who nodded in return.
“Sick bastard.” Friant cursed.
“I am of the same opinion.” Gudin agreed with a dark tone.
“Wait, what about the fifth kid?” Oudinot realized.
“Could it be in that mascot?” Morand theorized
“I don’t think the killer would want to dirty his instrument.” Davout scratched his chin thoughtfully.
“I am almost sure that the kid is in the yellow bear.” Trobriand said, seeing the time was almost up.
“Where is it? Why doesn’t it attack us?” Gudin asked, more to himself.
12AM
“We set them to be inactive, so we can talk-“ Oudinot was cut off when the group heard a laugh. The laugh that belonged to the bear. And it was getting closer.
“Cameras.” Davout said simply.
The group ran to pick them up.
“Do you see it?” Morand asked.
“No, but he’s in our right flank.” Friant pointed out, using the laughter as evidence.
“I see him!” Trobriand yelled. There it was, staring directly at them, its face just a few centimers away from the camera that was outside their door.
“How is he so fast!?” Morand all but yelled
“The killer most likely reverted, or even advanced, their aggressiveness.”
“The chicken!” Oudinot shouted as the animal appeared beside the door.
“Bunny too!” Trobriand jumped to the door, closing it just in time.
“Don’t switch away from the camera where the bear is.” Davout said.
“Why? If the rest of them are so damn active I dread to wonder what the fox could do!” Morand argued, closing the door once more.
“We managed to make that fat animal not move by staring at him from where he was. The same tactic should work here. We might not even have to close the right door.” The Marshal replied. Morand looked at him as if he were insane. But since it was Davout, he knew that, in some way, the Marshal would be proven right.
“And what about the fox?” Friant said as he checked the lights.
“When the chicken is at our door, we can use that opportunity to check the fox’s location.” Gudin said as he lifted his tablet.
“Sounds like a good strategy as-“ Trobriand began before the bunny arrived once more.
“We beat the first hour!” Oudinot cheered
“82 percent.” Davout wiped some sweat from his forehead.
“They leave so fast.” Morand said as he opened the door a moment after the bunny had shown its face.
“They don’t drain our power that way.” Friant replied. Oudinot quickly shut the door when the chicken showed up.
“The fox.” Davout ordered.
“Still peeking. Good.” Morand said with some relief, though it was short-lived as another deep laugh boomed.
“It was waiting for us to look away.” Oudinot grumbled.
“Once the fox is done, switch to the bear immediately.” Gudin replied.
“We figured out what to do!” Trobriand said with delight, closing the door.
“Now we only have to survive.” Friant replied.
“Sounds easy enough.” Morand deadpanned, muttering something else as he shut door once again.
“2AM and 65 percent.” Gudin said simply.
“We’re doing fine. Stay focused.” Davout encouraged in his own way. The bunny seemed to have listened, terrorizing Trobriand and Morand duo.
“I say we check the fox, I don’t want to risk it.” Oudinot said.
“Remember: Close the right door, then check.” Friant reminded his usually scatterbrained friend. After doing so, the group saw that the fox was out of its cove.
“It is still too early for a charge. We have to be careful.” Gudin said as the bear laughed once more.
“There it is again.” Friant hissed through gritted teeth as the chicken appeared.
“Hey, that thing went quite easy on you for a while. That’s how it feels to deal with my pain in the ass.” Morand chuckled while glancing at Davout, longing for some relief.
“Let’s check on the fox once more.” Davout replied, not particulary caring for Morand’s comment.
The group used the chicken showing as an excuse to look to the fox. Barely surprising them, it was gone.
“I got it!” Trobriand yelled, closing the door. A moment later, knocking and
“It’s not even 3AM yet!” Oudinot huffed.
“It is now, with 45 percent power remaining.” Friant replied back.
“We cannot afford another attack.” Gudin warned.
“Good thing those two are not capable of such feats.” Morand grumbled, as he prevented the entry of his nemesis.
Minutes passed in relative calm, though the stress of six men were quite obvious to each other.
“Now they don’t show their faces. What gives?” Davout coughed a little, his throat going dry.
“Spoke too soon.” Friant rolled his eyes as the enemy from the right flank appeared.
“The fox.” Gudin said succintly. Completely surprising them, it was behind the curtains.
“Huh. Our luck is going very lucky.” Trobriand joked.
“Yeah, right.” Morand punched the door shut.
“4AM, guys.” Oudinot said,
“27 percent.” Friant added.
“Will it be enough?” Morand asked.
“Perhaps, I don’t know. Our power usage was erratic and I can’t calculate how much we spent every hour.” Davout replied, his frustration boiling over.
“Monsieur le Maréchal, calm down.” Gudin gently reminded once again that night.
“Oh, look at you, Davout. I’m the one getting the shaft every night but you melt down over something like that.” Morand began, with a hint of stress.
“Stop wasting your breath. And Trobriand gets the same shaft, may I remind you.” Davout replied back with full force.
“And I thought you two had became friends.” Oudinot said with an unimpressed look.
Both men scoffed.
“He is the one having a breakdown over a math calculation!” Morand defended himself.
“Morand, take a breath.” Friant ordered. The younger man didn’t listen as he had to close the door.
“I am the one getting attacked. Not just this night.” Morand lamented. Friant just groaned and rolled his eyes.
“Morand, I swear to God I’ll hand you over to the killer if you continue.” Davout replied, baffled for a second at how harsh he sounded.
Morand opened his mouth before Gudin interjected, trying to convert the conversation.
“Gentlemen, the fox.”
Closing the right door, they switched to the Pirate’s Cove camera, with a laughter from the bear, almost as if it was enjoying the infighting. Or maybe it was laughing now that the fox was staring at the camera, its charge readying.
“This is your real threat.” Gudin said firmly to Morand.
“Uh huh. Definitely not this blue tormentor.” Morand grumbled as he closed the door.
“You understand what I mean.” Gudin glared at Morand. The latter looked away.
“You know, I wish the killer caught me.” Trobriand murmured.
“I agree, Trobriand.” Oudinot called out to the aide. “Not you getting killed, I mean.” He quickly added.
“Smooth.” Davout replied.
“5AM.” Friant grunted.
“Only 9 percent power left, though.” Gudin said, his hair wet from the atmosphere of the cramped office and sweat.
“Wow, time passed pretty fast.” Trobriand said with an impressed tone.
“That’s how usually it goes when you’re hyperfocused. Which is why I focus on something else when Davout is talking.” Morand replied.
“Very witty, Morand. I’m sure someone will find it funny.” Davout pinched his glasses in an attempt to find something to abuse.
“I do.” Oudinot answered.
“You find everything funny so your validation doesn’t count.” Morand answered.
“Beggars can’t be choosers, Morand.” Oudinot replied.
Gudin and Friant sighed.
“Monsieur Friant, thank you for being so quiet.” Gudin thanked the older man, who nodded.
“Guys, please. Let’s fight later. If we die now it would be so embarassing.” Trobriand begged.
As always, the bunny appeared when the lights turned on. The young aide rushed to close the door.
Click.
“Huh?”
Trobriand pushed the button once again. Nothing.
“No…” Trobriand felt sick. He couldn’t close the door.
“What’s going on?” Davout asked.
“I can’t… I can’t close the door…” Trobriand managed to reply with great difficulty.
“I knew they still had a trick up their sleeve.” Morand said, though without any vindication.
“Why isn’t it entering?” Gudin wondered.
“Probably waiting for us to look away. Like a…” Friant trailed off, remembering what was behind those animals.
“We need to look at the cameras to keep the fox in line. But if we do that, the bunny will get us.”
“Which doesn’t matter because we don’t have any protection against the fox.” Morand replied,
“What do we do?!” Oudinot yelled.
“We will have to hold out until 6AM.” Davout answered. He closed his eyes. He felt like this only once: When he realized that Bernadotte wasn’t coming.
There was a dreadful silence. It was like time itself had stopped. A forlorn hope surrounded them. It was the only thing they had now.
Friant took a breath.
“Everyone, get behind me.”
“What are you going to do?” Trobriand asked.
“When they enter, I’ll fight them as long as I can. I can buy you time to escape.” The old general replied stoically. Rest of the group looked shocked, with some of them nearly having their jaw falling off.
“No!” Davout shouted.
“I’m the oldest one here. You’re all young and deserve your life.”
“You’re not even 50, Friant.” Davout replied, his voice desperate.
“I’ll do it.” Trobriand said determinedly. “I got us into this mess. I have to pay for it.”
“Kid, you didn’t even make a mistake!” Oudinot interjected. “I’ll sacrifice myself. You know my luck, I’ll just have another scar.”
“Goddammit, I’m the Marshal! I give the orders! And I am the one responsible for all of you!” Davout roared. “What kind of Marshal- no, man would I be if I let my friends sacrifice themselves?”
“Davout, no.” Gudin grabbed his best friend’s arm.
“Louis, I’m not even a part of III Corps. Not anymore. It makes sense for me-“ Oudinot was cut off by Davout.
“You’re part of our family, Nicolas!”
“We’re all family. I am equal to all of you in the end. That’s why I will form the rearguard.” Gudin said calmly.
“Charles…” Davout couldn’t continue as anger, desperation and sadness began to overwhelm him.
“It’s my duty. For III Corps, for Empire and for you.” Gudin assured him.
“I’m sorry.” Morand, who was quiet during the entire exchange, mumbled.
“It’s alright, Morand.” Trobriand replied, who was preparing for his last stand. Although every man had their pistols and swords, it was rather obvious they would be ineffective, at best. But time for others to escape was the only goal they had.
“No, I’m genuinely sorry. I… I let my… feelings control the truth. And I fell victim to them, making me see you as my enemies…”
Friant patted Morand’s shoulder.
“I don’t mind it, son. Really.”
“Believe me, Morand, if we truly did mind it, you would have known.” Oudinot added sympathetically.
Morand barely nodded.
“Davout, Gudin, Friant, Trobriand, Oudinot… Please, save yourselves. It’s the least I can do after all the things I said and did.”
“Antoine.” Davout lifted Morand’s chin. Both men looked at each other’s eyes. Both of them looked shaken, exhausted and almost pitiful.
“I’m sorry too.”
At this, Morand fell to the floor. Iron Marshal sat beside him.
“…What do we do?” Oudinot asked once more.
Davout looked up. 2 percent. How convenient.
“If this is our end, I want it to be together.” He said simply.
Gudin sat beside Davout, with Trobriand following him. Friant and Oudinot quickly joined their friends in the floor. Gudin offered his hand to Davout.
“…I haven’t read the Good Book in a while.” The Marshal replied.
“I… Just want to hold hands.” Gudin replied. Without a reply, Davout took it and he reached out to Morand with his free hand. After a few seconds, the group linked their hands together.
0 percent.
Lights went out and the room was buried in darkness. The men didn’t react at all. They sat there silently. Seconds that felt like decades passed but in the end, it appeared.
The bear.
Its’ eyes glowed, allowing faintest light into the room as it stared at them from the left door.
Then, it let out a song. The same song that played earlier that night, Trobriand realized. He recounted how many battles he survived. Though this end wasn’t one he preferred, he didn’t mind it since Davout and III Corps were here.
It sounded so cheerful, lighthearted even encouraging. The beast knew how to mock well, Oudinot conceded. He wondered if his luck finally abandoned him. But his friends didn’t and that’s all he cared about.
Friant was the only one staring at their soon-to-be killer. He didn’t fear death. But he feared for his friends. Like a father that would worry for his children.
Morand held Davout’s hand tighter. He never imagined it would end like this. He found it almost comical that the death that was coming was far more plausible than making peace with his supposed arch-enemy.
Gudin prayed for his and his friends’ souls. Though it brought him great comfort, the comfort of having Davout and others with him was far greater.
Davout could only think about Desaix right now. He hoped he would be proud of him. He hoped that he would see that he did all he could. He hoped that his death in Marengo wasn’t in vain.
The music suddenly stopped and the bear’s eyes disappeared. The room was covered in pitch darkness. Only thing that could be heard was faint sounds of heartbeats.
6AM.
The lights went back on. The group could hear animatronics going back. But they didn’t believe it. They couldn’t.
Morand was first to react. He gasped and fell forward, tears running down his face.
“We did it…” Trobriand said, completely dazed.
“Are… Are we alive?” Oudinot chuckled in disbelief.
“Yes.” Friant smiled.
“This takes me back to Auerstedt. Right, Davout?” Gudin looked at his commander.
Davout didn’t say anything. He all but jumped to hug Gudin. He let go so he can pull Morand in, who was still recovering. Trobriand, Friant and Oudinot joined the hug as well. Men shuddered as stress and tension were released, though some of them were trembling due to crying.
Fate, however, was not done yet. The group broke of the embrace when they heard something smashing and breaking.
Trobriand leaped up to his feet. He took a step outside the right door as that’s where the sound was the loudest.
“Of course, gotta be a twist…” He complained.
The sound repeated three more times.
“It might be that killer.” Trobriand clenched his fist.
“What’s he doing?” Gudin asked.
“Let’s go ask him.” Davout said in a calm but utterly furious tone.
The group stood up, Morand taking a second to stabilize. Then, drawing their weapons, the group carefully walked to where the killer might be.
“I call dibs.” Friant grumbled.
“We gotta cause that lowlife most pain equally, my dear Friant.” Oudinot replied.
Davout raised his hand to stop the group when they saw the animals. Or what was left of them. The bear, the bunny, the chicken, the fox... They were in pieces, scattered through the floor.
“Be careful, whatever destroyed them could destroy us.” He whispered.
“This is the place I talked about.” Trobriand pointed.
“Stay away!” A voice screamed, sounding scared but also angry.
Oudinot looked baffled.
“No way…”
“What?” Davout asked.
“That sounds like the British prick that knocked me flat at the beginning of the week!”
“You got to be kidding.” Gudin’s eyes widened.
“All this time…” Morand shook his head.
“If he fears us, let’s go to the bastard and finish this.” Friant replied.
Trobriand steadied his sabre.
“Let’s.”
Seeing they were ready, Davout nodded and group lunged towards the entrance. They stopped in their tracks when they saw something they could have only came up with in their fever dreams.
Children. But not of flesh and blood. They were almost transparent, grey, with black tears running down their eyes. Four of them stood by the entrance while another was walking towards a tall man.
He ran away to the other side of the room and the child followed. The man slipped away once again. The child didn’t stop. A game of cat and mouse.
The man smiled wildly, looking at an old bunny costume. He made a mad dash towards the suit.
“Remember this? This is what you last saw. This is what you fear. This is who I am!” He yelled as he entered the suit. Once in place, he stood up. He laughed, loudly and triumphantly. Gaze of the children didn’t waver. Then, something snapped.
Literally.
A metallic piece punctured the flesh of the man in the suit, who screamed in pain as he fell to his knees. More piercing sounds followed and blood began to spill through every joint, some dripping like water from a wet cloth. Sounds of breaking bones replaced the tearing of skin. Something cracked and more blood poured from the bunny’s eye sockets. The screams and gurgling of blood grew louder. That is, until they were cut off suddenly as if the vocal cords themselves were ripped apart. Painful moans and whimpering didn’t cease, however. The man fell backwards against the wall, twitching incessenatly in a pool of blood.
The ghost children began to disappear. Content and satisfied.
Only six Frenchmen were left. All they could do was stare.
“Let’s make a gentlemen’s agreement.” Davout started, a bit unsure himself.
“Yeah?” Oudinot replied.
“We’re not going to talk about what happened just now anywhere else. It dies with us.”
“Yeah.” Oudinot replied once more.
“Like it died with him.” Friant joked darkly, pointing at the bunny.
Gudin grimaced.
“I think he’s still alive. Should we save him? For a free and fair trial, of course.”
Morand glared at the yellow bunny.
“Let him suffer.”
“Yeah.” Oudinot agreed for a second time.
“Let’s just get the hell outta here.” Trobriand said.
The group was about to leave when the bunny lifted its’ arm towards them, weak but sharply.
“Agh… Ahh… Waaggh… Gahm… B-Bagh…” It moaned.
The group looked unimpressed at the attempt at communication.
“Ah, British.” Davout shook his head, smirking at the bunny, before slamming the door shut and leaving the killer in a similar position of what they faced a few minutes ago, with the difference being he was utterly alone.
Six men quietly walked to the entrance. To their surprise, there was a card once again. However, this one was pink.
“Notice of Termination
(you’re fired)”
“What for?” Oudinot protested.
“REASON: Tampering with the animatronics.”
“Fair enough.” Friant accepted.
“General unprofessionalism.”
“I’m gonna show you general unprofessionalism, you little prick.” Morand growled.
“This point is also proven true.” Gudin replied.
“Odor.”
Trobriand sniffed.
“…Jury is out on that one.”
“thanks, mngmt”
“Sod off.” Davout threw away the card and opened the door. The group stepped outside and enjoyed the sun rising, a nice breeze blowing and some birds chirping.
“This is our true reward.” Gudin said to no one in particular.
“My bed is my reward.” Friant muttered, getting on the carriage.
“I have to agree.” Oudinot joined in.
As the group got on their ride, Morand stayed back for a moment.
“Can we have another gentlemen’s agreement?” He asked.
“Sure, what is it?” Trobriand replied.
“…Don’t mention that I wept.” The young general shyly said.
Davout smiled and lent his hand.
“We won’t.”
Morand sighed in relief.
“Thank you, Louis.”
With the help of Davout, Morand was on board and the carriage started the journey back towards their homes.
Trobriand unconsciously placed his head in Davout’s shoulder and closed his eyes. It was finally over. They all did their best and were victorious. He hoped that the children were able to find peace. And for the killer, may the bottom of hell take him.
“Our week-long test of will, wit and strength is finished. In spite of our fighting, I believe we came out closer than ever. I hope we always remain close, physically and in spirit.”