Chapter Text
Gregory had never seen so much blood before.
It was such an overload of information, his brain didn't know whether to process the detached arm or the fact Vanny was the nightguard.
They stood there, staring at each other, heaving in and out deep breaths. Every time Vanny breathed out, more blood flowed from her shoulder. The rabbit costume was bright red with blood on the right side, the way it spread across the fabric reminded him of an inky marker on paper.
"Gregory..." She repeated, like she didn't have the energy to think of any other words. She took a wobbled step towards him, but he didn't move, half expecting her to fall and collapse dead right then. However she didn't, just continued to make small steps that slowly grew in pace. Before he knew it he was running from her yet again.
This time he had the advantage, though.
He had two arms and a golf club.
She left a trail of red as she chased him, it was hard to keep his mind focused on the task at hand when every step she took, the loss of her arm seemed to affect her less and less. He thought maybe he could tire her out, maybe if he ran long enough she would die of blood loss. But there was something poking at the back of his mind.
He wanted to hurt her.
He wanted to be the thing that stopped her, not her self inflicted injury and her desperation to kill him.
He gritted his teeth and tested his grip on the club, taking a glance over his shoulder to see where she was before slowing his pace a bit. When he deemed her close enough, he jumped and twisted, forcing his injured hand past its strength as he swung with all his might.
She dodged. Or maybe she tripped? Either way she went crashing into him, he was lucky enough to still have the club in his hands when they landed. As she pinned him on his back again, strength fuelled by rage, he finally got a closer look at her face.
With that crazed look in her eyes, one bleeding but still open, and the foam and spit bubbling up around her mouth, she didn't really look like the nightguard he remembered.
She leaned over him, her remaining arm pressed down against his neck. She must have lost the knife in the rubble. She leaned forward a bit more, allowing her weight to start crushing his throat. He let out a raspy scream, shoving his feet up and into her chest to hold the weight off. Her arm moved from his throat to tangle up and pull on his hair as she struggled to stay above him. He continued to kick and scream and yell curses and incoherent nonsense until his foot slid past her chest, scraping along the open wound on her shoulder. She screeched, and immediately the blood started flowing fresh again, it poured down onto his chest and neck. He strained to keep it below his head.
With his break from kicking, Vanny returned her arm to his neck and leaned forward again, the blood now landing on his face and dribbling into his eyes and mouth. He wanted to be sick. He squeezed his eyes shut. Blood was everywhere, it was everything. He could hear it dripping, feel it on his face. taste it, smell it, it was in his eyes. The club was slippery in his hands.
He couldn't see so he started kicking again, he swung as much as he could too, feeling a few connect before Vanny started to lose her strength.
Eyes still squeezed shut and bloody, he felt her weight tumble off of him and scrambled to his feet. He held the club with one hand and wiped his eyes with the other, managing to just see through as he squinted. He expected her to be knocked out cold, but she was crawling. Back towards the rubble. And that knife.
Butterflies burst throughout his chest as he watched her, the back of her head exposed and vulnerable. He took the time to wipe the blood from his hands and the club onto his shorts, he wanted this swing to be a good one, then walked behind her slow moving form.
He lifted the club back over his shoulder, breathing heavily as he aimed.
Normally, this is where the main character would stop and try to be the better person.
Not Gregory.
In fact, no matter what he did he would always be the better person, that was just how horrible this bitch was.
Just as Vanny turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, he swung, striking her forehead. That wasn't really where he intended to hit her but she slumped onto the ground anyway, so he figured it was good enough. He stood the for a moment and felt the temptation to hit her again when he saw the rising and falling of her chest, but he didn't have time. He had to help the others.
He struggled to find pockets on that stupid suit, but when he finally did he was ecstatic to find the object she had in her hands earlier. It was a remote of sorts, with a big shiny red button in the middle. He pressed it, it's not like this night could get any worse, right?
Don't worry, not another boss fight. The lights flickered on and the familiar humming of animatronics started up behind him.
Everything was so bright with the lights on. That blood was way redder than it was in the dim lights.
He dropped the club, it landed in the pool of blood surrounding Vanny's somehow still breathing body and splashed it onto his legs. But when he looked down, there was so much blood on his legs he couldn't tell where he had been splashed.
"I hate to agree with Sun, kid, but you should- hold on..." Monty's voice was like a hug, and as he listened to the group 'wake up' and start to access to situation, tears began to stream down his face. He was thankful for the tears, even if they made his throat hurt, at least they had cleaned the blood from his eyes.
"Gregory?" He almost started wailing at the sound of his name coming from someone other than Vanny, still frozen as Chica's familiar white and pink tones appeared in his vision.
She was saying other stuff, probably questions, but all Gregory could really focus on was the white of a bone showing deep inside Vanny's mangled shoulder. Chica must have noticed this, and quickly scooped him up and away from the scene into a corner. She turned his back to the situation behind him and knelt down in front of him. Something in his face must have warned her though because she jumped out of the way as he started throwing up. Violently.
His throat ached and burned at the same time, the only thing in his stomach to throw up was the chips he had earlier, water and blood. He sputtered and coughed, the sight of the red liquid coming out of him was enough to make him heave again. The burning extended up his nose and it started to dribble with the stuff.
Chica rubbed circles on his back as he heaved a couple more times, nothing coming out anymore. Now he started wailing, and Chica almost failed to catch him as he collapsed towards the sick in front of him. He grabbed at the metal on her chest and shoulders, pressing his head against it and hardly feeling the headache that was forming from the pressure. She was still talking to him, but he couldn't hear the words, he didn't need to. Just her voice was calming enough. Adrenaline, energy, pain and fear all left his body as he passed out in her arms.
-
Monty watched as Sunny attended to the woman on the ground. Who, unsettlingly, he recognised as the night guard.
He wanted to stomp on her head until it was mush, the image of Gregory standing in all that blood was stuck in his brain, and he was tempted to disable his hearing as the boy wailed behind him. But he didn't, he stood there and listened, feeling more than a bit guilty for his trauma.
The crying died down, and risked a glance back to see Chica on the ground cradling the kid, he was knocked out. He felt a wave of relief at this, and looked back to Sun. "I don't know why you're putting so much effort into helping her. We should finish her off-"
"Make yourself useful and go look for Freddy." Sun said, their focus not moving from Vanessa. He grumbled but didn't retort, the only thing scarier than angry Moon was angry Sunny. He started to investigate the daycare. starting at the absolutely ruined play structure. He spotted a rabbit head in the rubble, it look like one of the ears was pinned by some metal. Next to it, was a whole human arm, also pinned. Connecting two and two together, he would have thrown up if he could. She ripped her own arm off?
He moved past the dismembered arm section and peered into more of the structure. There he spotted the orange of Freddy, in terrible shape, and then something that resembled Roxy which was in even worse shape. He stepped back and assessed the area as a whole, anxiety bubbling up within him.
Hold on, since when was that part of his programming?! Of course it decided to show up now, when he needed to think clearly.
If Fazbear Entertainment found out what had happened here, they'd all be decommissioned. And Gregory...would go back to whatever his life situation was, which Monty guessed wasn't too good.
One and a half hours 'till 6am. A nightguard with one arm and one eye. Two animatronics trapped beneath rubble. A whole bunch of cameras to wipe. And a ten year old kid who somehow did it all. He didn't know if they could cover this up in time, but they had to give it a shot.