Chapter Text
You step into the elevator, the doors closing behind you. It starts moving, rattling unsteadily underneath your feet. Colourful posters of Circus Baby and Ballora grin freakishly at you and… him. There’s someone else in the elevator with you. He looks familiar. You don’t know why. Blue eyes, fairly neat brown hair.
You can’t quite figure out where you recognize him from. After all, there are many men with blue eyes and brown hair. Maybe his face shape, maybe his build rings a bell in your head. You attentively examine his somewhat familiar figure, the identical purple blouse the two of you are wearing, and the black pants which contain a stable belt around them. Just like you, he has the keys to the desolate place and a flashlight. His head twitches in your direction, just barely catching you looking away.
The elevator is aged and rusty, like it hasn’t been used in years. An enormous fan spins above you and the man, casting long, flickering shadows down the walls. The cold white lights flash and go out every few seconds. The entire contraption looks like it can collapse at any given moment.
While there isn’t much to look at around you, you try and get a glimpse of the name tag of the yet unknown man beside you. Due to the unsteadiness of your location, all you can conclude is that his tag is slightly crooked, pinned on too far to his left, and written on in thick black marker. Wait… there’s an “M” on his name tag. One letter, that’s all you have to work with. You decide to abandon your attempts at finding his name, instead choosing to focus on what he’s doing.
The man beside you keeps almost touching his keys, and right before he does anything, he snatches his hand away like he’s afraid to make any noise. His other hand is holding his flashlight so tightly that his knuckles are white. You’re starting to think that he’s even more nervous than you.
Your ring of keys, sent to you with a letter in the mail, were specified to be used only in emergencies. There was supposedly a “Hand Unit” at the pizza place to give you instructions and unlock vents, do all of the dirty work. You had no idea how that would work, in fact, you had many doubts about it, but there were remarks from previous employees in the letter saying how amazing this Hand Unit was. Or is. Whichever one it is, you decided right away to be wary of this thing. You prefer to use keys anyways.
Occasionally, his free hand strays up towards his left ear, and- holy crap. He’s got an earring. It’s nothing fancy, just a small black stud, and yet you’re mentally freaking out. You have to pinch your arm to snap out of it. I’m staring, aren’t I? Just look ahead or something, don’t be suspicious, you’ll be fine.
I want to touch his earring.
You have to restrain yourself from punching your own face. That is not looking ahead!
With a small amount of difficulty, you manage to tear your gaze away from the man’s ear, instead looking at a brightly lit red button to the right of the elevator doors. You assume that these doors are the exit, seeing as they are just barely open and rattling, whereas the doors from which you entered are firmly closed. Somehow, the shut doors behind you are much more ominous.
“Welcome to the first day of your exciting new career!”
The two of you jump, startled, at the strange new voice. It comes from all around you, a deceptively warm and pleasant male’s voice. Is this the “Hand Unit” you’ve heard so much about? It continues speaking.
“Whether you were approached at a job fair, read our ad at Screws, Bolts, and Hairpins, or if this is the result of a dare, we welcome you. I will be your personal guide to get started. I’m a model 5 of the handyman’s Robotics and Unit Repair System, but you can call me Hand Unit.”
Ah, so this is the Hand Unit. You think that it’s rather unsettling. You thought that it would be a robot, or at least an actual face on a screen, but it’s just a voice. Just a voice, right? This thing is even scarier than what you imagined. A disembodied AI’s voice telling you what to do. You don’t like it, and neither does the man beside you, apparently. The hand holding his flashlight looks like it’s entirely white, now.
“Your new career promises challenges, intrigue, and endless janitorial opportunities.”
Janitorial… what? You applied for the night watch position, you didn’t come here to clean up after a bunch of bratty six-and-seven year olds.
“Please enter your name as seen above the keypad. This cannot be changed later, so please be careful.”
A small, bright yellow keypad appears in front of you. You pick it up and notice that the blocky green lettering flickers and vanishes from the screen every few seconds. Two peeling white stickers are stuck above the keypad’s screen. One shows your name, written in a thin black pen, and the other sticker reads “Mike”. You take note of how frequently the screen flickers, and carefully input your name.
“Excellent. Welcome, [Name]. Please pass the keypad to your companion.”
Your said “companion” holds his free hand out to you for the keypad. He’s a bit more impatient than you, clicking on a key the instant that the screen flickers. Doing so must have caused a glitch, because multiple green dots, signifying characters, appear at the top of the screen along with an “error” warning.
“It seems that you had some trouble with the keypad. I see what you were trying to type, and I will auto-correct it for you. Welcome, Eggs Benedict.”
Eggs what?
“You can now open the elevator using that bright, red, and obvious button. Let’s get to work.”
The elevator has stopped moving, the lights low and dark, the fan above eerily silent. Suddenly, the man beside you speaks.
“What did that thing call me? An egg?” He has a slight accusatory tone to his voice.
You turn towards him, meeting his gaze. “No. It called you Eggs Benedict.”
He blinks. A slight shudder runs through his shoulders and it takes you a second to realize that he’s laughing . A few giggles escape your lips before getting louder, joining in with someone you hardly know. Whatever leftover tension in the air dissipates immediately.
Finally, he straightens up, wiping one of his eyes. “I’m not an Eggs whatever. My name’s Michael. I’m assuming that you put your name really is (Y/N), right? If you typed your name right on that thing, anyways.”
“Heh. Yeah, I did. I’m (Y/N), and it’s nice to meet you, Michael.” You smile at him, inwardly marvelling at how well this is going so far. “Should we press the button?”
Turning to the glowing red button, he responds, “Yeah, we probably should. Would you like to do the honours? Of pressing a not-creepy-at-all button that could possibly lead us to our dooms?”
You have a horrible feeling that, despite his cool and joking tone, he’s telling the truth.
You nod and step forwards, pushing the red button firmly with the side of your fist. The elevator doors open, revealing a low, dark, and square vent with crumpled yellow caution tape draped over top of the opening.
“Well? After you, (Y/N).”
Taking a deep breath, you kneel in front of the vent and crawl in. It’s dark and cold, clammy. The metal on all sides burn your skin. You don’t know what’s on the other side of this tunnel, and that scares you. More than it should, probably.
I… can do this.