Chapter Text
His heart was pounding in his chest while he stemmed his whole weight against the rusty door. With a low screech, reminiscent of the robots, it opened into the darkness.
He stepped out of the rainy night into his unknown future.
Inside the building it smelled like oil and rust, or maybe blood, he never was good at distinguishing smells.
Nervous he fumbled around at his backpack, trying to find the torch he brought, expecting this situation.
A click was audible and light illuminated his orange skin and the surrounding area… and even though he couldn´t understand why they thought that they could just turn the story of a serial killer into a horror attraction, he was able to appreciate the effort they put into it.
The walls, painted in the right shade of subtle-rotting-green, were tastefully decorated with different posters of the original restaurant, some kept clean and authentic, while others were drawn over in a sp00ky fashion, like crossing out the children´s eyes or scrabbling over the animatronics with a sharpie, making them appear like shadow-demon-evil.
The man could actually imagine going through here as a visitor, laughing about the stupid attempts of turning the animatronics scary. It was a lot less funny when you have seen it in reality.
Nothing but his pounding heart still made a sound, even the rain wouldn´t reach through the doors.
His body felt cold and numb, not unlike how it was when he tried to get the job.
~
“You actually want to do this, man? Not even trying to get better pay?”
“Well, I have an… attachment to this chain. I just want to work here again.”
“Woah! Don´t tell me you worked at Freddy´s before?! That´s sooo cool, dude!”
It wasn´t obvious, but the guy didn´t seem to fake his “slang”. What an odd person.
“It´s not that big of a deal, but you know… I could give you some inside information. IF I get the job that is.”
“Fuck yeah, you´re hired! How old were you while the chain was still active? You don´t really look old… was it, like, your summer job? The first one you ever gotten?! And then it was immediately killing and shit. GOD DAMN, I´m jealous!”
After all this time, Freddy´s still attracted exclusively freaks. He smiled as the man rambled on.
“So, yeah, we´re setting the whole attraction up right now, going through old places and see what we can find. We want as much of the original as possible! Hey, how about you write the things you´ve seen down and scatter the papers EVERYWHERE! The people who pick them up going to LOVE it! Of course, we might have to pep it a little, you know. And we should pretend that we found the diary of the killer! THAT`S GONNA BE AMAZING! Oh, before I forget, what´s even your name? W T F, I asked you so much already and didn´t even remembered the simplest thing… sorry.”
“Uh… I… well…” This was the awkward part. There was only one “name” he still reacted to. “I… Can you please… call me Old Sport? It´s just… I know it´s weird, but everyone calls me that…”
“Old sport? Whut? That sounds so eighty, I don´t even know. But fine, “Old Sport”, if you like it, no probs.”
Well, his name might sounded odd, but at least he didn´t speak so…
0h right, fug, he had #no regerts when it came to ling0.
But he hadn´t talked like that in years. Maybe that was his “fun” vocabulary.
The man in front of him snickered. “Alright “Old Sport”, you can call me “Dude”, then we are like nickname brothers!”
What the heck were-
“Here are the keys, be at the place at midnight and Imma give you instructions! See ya later!”
Shortly a violent pain shot through Old Sport´s chest. There was only one person who could use “Imma” and “See ya” and that person was long gone.
Or maybe not. Hopefully not. If not, he would be able to find him here, that much he knew.
~
Old Sport sighed and proceeded through the halls. The lights were nice and gloomy, on every corner was either a Chica or Foxy-head with a flickering light bulb inside, giving them an almost lifelike appearance.
The arcades appeared to function and displayed games, but at random intervals black screens, filled with creepy messages, would appear.
We are dead.
Get us out!
Help us.
Save us!
Sometimes even short frames of robots trying to rip their head off popped up and while it was probably laughably cheesy for any guest, it only left a pit inside his stomach. Everything was less fun once you experienced it.
A small smile returned on his face, as he reminded himself that all of this was fake. The animatronics weren´t possessed anymore, the children had their happiest day and the killer was dead.
Well, not dead, but trapped.
Trapped in hundreds of Springlocks.
Thankfully he finally found the office and said office had a nice, modern looking chair, that was comfortable and could spin.
Old Sport let himself fall right on it and started to check the cameras out of boredom. Nothing was happening and he really didn´t want to let himself get lost in his thoughts again.
What would happen if they didn´t find him?
What was if he had escaped and was hiding away, protecting his paining body from rust and decay by freezing himself?!
It was getting out of hand already.
Thank sweet baby Foxy and all three of the holy Bunnies for Dude´s call.
“Heya, Old sport! We´re at the restaurant in California right now and it is a GOLDMINE! Real arcades, those weird party-hats and even more spare parts!”
“Did you… did you ever found a sealed off room? We had one in the back… next to the bathrooms, in the long hallway.”
“Sealed off rooms?! Are you CRAZY?! Why didn´t you tell me before?! FUCK! Does every restaurant have one?! YO, GUYS! WE NEED SOMETHING TO BREAK THROUGH THE WALLS!”
“They´re really thick, multiple rows of brick, so it may take a while…”
“HA! As if that would ever stop me! Thanks, man! So, do you like our horror attraction? It´s cool, right?! Before I forget… your job is to check up on the vents, make sure the electronics work and that the whole place doesn´t catch on fire. Seriously, watch out for that. There should be a fire extinguisher behind you, so there should be no problem. Cooling down the pipes with water from time to time will be helpful as well!”
A faint sound of someone calling in the background and the Phone dude started to squeal. “F-ing yes! We found the place! I´m going now to help the others, so… good luck or something! Don´t fall asleep!”
With a click the call stopped and Old Sport was alone once again. The rest of the night he spent playing breadbear 666 and counting all the different robot-parts.
The next day came and went, and at midnight he had returned to his office, eagerly waiting for the call.
“GUESS FUCKING WHAT! WE FOUND ONE! A REAL ONE!” Old Sport felt his ear dropping some blood from the volume. “A FUCKING ANIMATRONIC HIDDEN IN THE BACKROOM. YES, IT STILL WORKS! Just go and take a look at it! It´s majestic! AND SO ROTTEN! IT´S LITERALLY PERFECT! You don´t even know how jealous I am of you right now. I would LOVE to just stare at that thing move around for HOURS. Well, but I´m stuck here, seeking for shit we don´t have about eighty times already.” Good-natured he laughed. “Have fun, Old Sport, but be careful! Don´t want it to break, because I have no idea how to repair that stuff.”
“I do.”
“REALLY?! THAT´S AWESOME! But… actually don´t repair it now, alright?! It´s like in the perfect state for this attraction! If you have to repair something, do it as minimal as possible! So it still looks totally broken and dead! I´m rambling again… heh, sorry. I won´t keep you away from the beauty any longer… hear of you tomorrow!”
The click felt louder than last time.
So… he was here.
Dave.
What was he supposed to say when they met?
“Sorry I killed you” sounded kind of dumb, especially when you planned on killing that person for a whole week.
“I didn´t realize my life would suck so hard” was bad as well. He was here out of entirely selfish reasons and both would know that.
Shortly he checked on the cameras, watching the cyborg getting closer. His movements were disoriented and slow, making Old Sport wonder if he still felt pain after all these years.
Nervous he scanned around at the office. There were a few new documents on the table, nothing interesting and… tapes. Phone Guy´s old training tapes. His hand reached out for the first one.
No.
He wouldn´t be able to take it.
Nostalgia would kill him. Or at least make him desire death even stronger.
Again he looked at the cameras. Dave was so close already.
To pass his last hour without sweating profusely, he started to murmur swears at himself.
“Heck!”
“Gosh!”
“Darn!”
“Frick!”
When he dared to glance back up he saw Davetrap standing in the doorway, obscured by the shadows that left only his glowing eyes to see. He could almost imagine the Purple Guy being a human again.
He did nothing, but swaying back and forth. His grin sometimes flashed through the dark, his teeth still being as glowing as his eyes.
Neither of them blinked. It was painful, but the tears in Old Sports eyes were at least pushing away his need to blink. He could almost hear Dave´s voice, despite him not saying anything at all.
Why… hello there, Old Sport!
Didn´t expect you to come back…
The Orange Man clenched his fists. This was what he wanted after all. At least Dave gave him a chance to explain himself, which was more than he ever gave to Dave.
For the good old times, one final round.
“… Oh shit, waddup Davey…” His own voice sounded almost unrecognizable, thin and shaking as it was. “You… you probably ask yourself what I´m doing here. A-and rightfully so. It´s… it´s been thirty years. The truth is: I was trying to find you for a while now.”
His throat felt dry.
“You… When I springlocked you… I thought I did the right thing. I stopped the killer, I helped Phoney and the kids, you know, the good guys… I fulfilled my purpose. You may already guessed it, but I shouldn´t have been alive, the first time we met. I died years ago. Almost like you.”
Davetrap did not move, so he tried to continue.
“After Freddy´s closed down… I and Phon- … Peter were set free. Not knowing where to go, I just… followed him home. Showed up on his doorstep. He took me in, without hesitation. It gave me the feeling that I was welcome. But it also gave me time to think.”
It felt awkward to tell this stupid sob-story, but he needed to get it off his chest.
“I never stopped thinking about you Dave. That you… were like me, sort of. The longer I thought about it, the more I noticed that I never actually learned anything about you. Why you killed kids, why you would ask me to join, just like that, why you deserved what happened to you. Long story short, I felt that even if you killed kids… and I sound like a retard, I know, but even though you´re a serial killer of the lowest kind, only preying on the weakest enemies imaginable… it wasn´t fair to just lock you away in endless pain, without understanding anything about you.”
Davetrap hadn´t reacted in any meaningful way, but Old Sport got paranoid.
Cut the crap, Old Sport, the place is already shitty enough, he imagined him saying.
“Y-you´re right, I´m lying. Not really, I thought about all what I said, but it isn´t why I´m HERE, if you know what I´m saying… the real reason is; I missed you Dave. I missed you so much. T-that´s awkward since we barely know each other, but let me explain… I reread my old journals. For fun. I counted my deaths. Of course, boredom and stupidity were the top reason, but…”
Nervously he laughed, unsure if Dave was even listening anymore.
“It´s surprising how often Phone Guy sold me off to the police or sprinlocked me for some petty reason. It´s disturbing, honestly. And the robots… the children were just as bad. They killed Night Guard after Night Guard; even bit other kids if they felt like it. After reading I could make only one conclusion: We are all psychos, Serial killers who targeted innocent people. You were a grown man against some kids and that was unfair, but what is with the grown man against robots?! Pretty unfair as well! And most Guards were just as innocent as the kids were. But the kids got to heaven or the void or wherever and you deserve eternal hell? That… that isn´t fair. The robots killed even more people than you, I counted!”
Now the Davetrap had stopped its swaying and stood perfectly still.
“In the end I faced my hypocrisy and naivety. I´m a bad person by proxy, being dismissive and closed-minded. And… I-if you don´t mind me getting selfish for a second, the kids doomed me just as much as you, despite NEVER doing anything, forcing me to live forever after using me for their plans. I was happy helping them, but I expected… that they would help me find peace too. A place to be myself and stay. But they didn´t. I don´t think they ever cared. So I lived with Peter for a while and it was nice, but…”
The memories of his realization were unpleasant to say the least.
“W-well, make-up can hide many things, but not staying the same for thirty years, am I right? After I saved everyone and I DID, believe me, I did everything right and lawful, I was kind and understanding to everyone but the declared enemy; you, and sacrificing every friendship I made wherever I stayed… after all that I wasn´t even allowed a home. This would just continue forever. I´m doomed to always change places, always lie and always pretend. BUT! Even after realizing my own situation, I still knew: You got the short end of the stick, Dave, and that is solely my fault.”
The silence was deafening, but Old Sport felt so tired that he stopped caring.
“That´s why I´m actually here. I know that I can´t fix you, free you, or give you peace. But… I can let you kill me. Tear me into pieces! Crush my head between your hands! Put me in a never-ending nightmare! Even if it just entertains you for a while. I deserve it.”
Slowly the Davetrap stepped into the light, revealing the amount of damage and probable pain that Dave was subjected to since thirty years. Guilt stung painfully in Old Sport´s chest.
“Y-you really look bad… I´m sorry that I was so stupid. I´m… I´m sorry. For everything.”
Dave now stood before him, eyeing him, thinking about which way to torture was the best.
Then he made a sound and closed in.
Old Sport accepted his fate and closed his eyes.
Two powerful arms, made of metal and fabric, wrapped around him, to crush every bone he had in his back, to render him paralyzed for whatever horror was to come…
…
Or… not?
Davetrap didn´t move after he… hugged Old Sport? Was this a trick? Mind-fuck? Psychological torture?!
Did it even matter?
Hesitant Old Sport hugged him back, trying to resist his urge to cry. At least he could blend in with other people with enough make-up! Dave was forever an outcast that would have to hide, but it appeared that it was Dave, trying to comfort HIM.
This was insanity on a whole new level.
God had he missed Dave. His grin, his stupid comments, his carefree nature…
Now he was actually crying, clinging to Dave´s body as if he would disappear.
“WE ARE ALL FRICKING ASSHOLES AND SHOULD FRICKING DIE IN PEACE AND LET LIFE BE LIFE AND BE OVER AND JUST ACCEPT THAT EVERYONE IS EVIL AND EVERYONE IS GOOD!”
A low pitched rumble came form Dave, most likely the last thing golden Bonnie´s voice box could produce.
“AREN´T YOU ANGRY?! DON´T YOU HATE ME?! K-KILL ME ALREADY! DO SOMETHING!” He tried punching him, hoping that he would provoke the undead bunny enough to hit back. “OR IS THIS YOUR FUCKED UP REVENGE? LETTING ME GET TORN APART BY MY OWN GUILT?!”
Now the psychopath was petting him, which was slightly painful seeing that Dave didn´t know his own strength, but not nearly enough to satisfy Old Sport.
“I… I hate you Dave. I whished you had never existed. Henry didn´t make nearly as much problems as you. Why do you do this?”
The Davetrap leaned his head to the side, but didn´t react in any other way. Exhausted the Orange Guy rested his head on Dave´s chest.
“Fine, I get it. There is nothing to gain from killing me. Or something like that. You´re a changed man!” Restless he tipped his fingers against the small patches of fur. “But there oughta be something I can do for you! Are you in pain?”
Slightly the cyborg nodded.
“I´m going to get you medicine, since your body still works. I assume it is just like my last springlock incident and your wounds keep on healing and getting torn apart again. Second, if I find out how your voice box works and repair it, will you be able to speak?”
To his disappointment the guy shook his head.
“That sucks… I… I really hoped to hear your voice again…”
Davetrap started twitching and reached for his robotic head, trying to pull it off. Panic flooded Old Sports veins.
“A-are you in pain Dave?! What are you doing, can I help?!” He grabbed onto the head as well, but jumped back as it was lifted far enough. The somewhat rotten, slim head of Dave was under there; his jaws were locked by two metal pieces that had torn into it.
But the head still moved.
The jaws still moved.
It was terrifying to look at, but he couldn´t stop. Slightly nauseous he asked himself if he had appeared the same, one of the hundred times he was sprinlocked.
Dave had stopped as Old Sport panicked, but made the same notion again, this time less extreme but rather intensely. All the while he made noises, short and loudly.
It took a while for Old Sport to catch on.
“D-do you… want me to remove the suit?”
Eagerly Dave nodded.
“So… it´s… possible? You aren´t melted together with it?! I actually CAN safe you?!” He felt his own eyes almost lighting up as much as Dave´s. This was perfect! The golden ending he always craved so desperately.
“I will-!” The clock struck six and signaled for him to leave. Shortly he considered staying, but knew that he wouldn´t be able to do anything with Dude around. “I will be back tomorrow! With Oil or Lube or something, a plan to get you out of here and painkiller. I promise.”
Dave only made soft noises as Old Sport left.