Chapter Text
Batcave Report #826.
I, Batman, hearby swear to record here the whole truth and nothing but the truth as I saw it.
In all my years working in Gotham City, this is not the strangest case I've dealt with. But it is, in its own way, one of the most tragic.
The case began, as it usually does, with a message from Commissioner Jim Gordon. Not a lit up bat in the sky, but rather a simple email, on our private Bat-server (Dick's nickname). It contained a digital folder of the case file and a short message:
Mind taking a look at this? I don't have the men or resources to spare on it right now. Thanks, G
Skimming through the case file, I immediately saw a name that I hadn't heard in years, nor would I have spared it a second thought: that of a local chain restaurant known as Freddy Fazbear's Family Pizza.
I admit that the name and its associations made me cringe internally. I had eaten there only once, some years ago, when Dick was young enough to enjoy what most other little boys enjoy. Alfred insisted that we go to Freddy's together as a "bonding activity".
Dick liked it well enough, but I only remember the pizzeria as a sensory nightmare. Every surface was stained with pizza grease no matter where you sat. The air was filled with screaming children and mindless music designed to drown out your thoughts. Everything was a blur of loud colors and retro 1980s designs. We were served mediocre pizza by a teenager in a purple uniform earning minimum wage. It was not an experience to be repeated.
The only thing of any interest to me there was the animatronic show. The characters were as loud and colorful as everything else, but they were designed like no other robot I'd ever seen since. Having somewhat of a fascination with robotics, I was struck by the elaborate internal systems that enabled Freddy and friends to move in such a…human-like fashion. But of course I had other things on my mind then and didn't pursue it further.
I shook off the memories and focused on the task at hand. According to the case file, Fazbear Management complained that three security guards had gone missing in the last two weeks. All three had clocked in for the night shift at 12 AM, and none had clocked out at 6 AM. The file wasn't very large and I suspected Management was holding back information from the police.
One line from the case file interested me, however; a hasty scribble in the margins read Animatronics enter free roaming-mode at night?A rather cryptic observation, and as good a clue to start with as any.
A cursory search on the Batcomputer (again, Dick's name) told me that Fazbear animatronics were built, operated, and maintained by a company called Afton Electronics.
Afton…where have I heard that name before? It seemed like the kind of name Bruce Wayne might hear during one of those insufferable corporate meetings at Wayne Enterprises. Sure enough, another quick search told me that Afton Electronics was in fact a partner with Wayne Enterprises. Interesting.
"Computer, call Lucius Fox," I ordered.
As CEO of my family's company, Lucius would undoubtedly give me more info on Afton. The computer, however, only returned a voicemail stating that he was out on vacation and will return the call soon. I made a mental note to follow up with him later.
The rest of the case file had little to offer, so it was time for some field work. Not far from the Batcomputer, Jason was performing acrobatics on the exercise setup. I could tell he had been practicing with Nightwing; there was a certain grace to the boy's movements that reminded me of Dick.
"How would you like to go to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria tonight?" I asked.
Jason landed skillfully on the mat, wearing a disgusted pout that all 13 year old boys are apparently born with.
"Bruce, I'm way too old for Freddy's."
"Not for dinner. For work. Suit up and meet me at the Batmobile in five minutes."
A grin broke across Jason's face.
"I'll be there in two."
Our destination was in The Hill neighborhood of Gotham City, a decidedly middle class area not far from Crime Alley.
In the car, Robin read through the case file and did some research of his own.
"These security guards aren't the only ones who've gone missing at Freddy's. Over 20 years ago, five kids went missing in and around the restaurant over the span of seven months."
"Six kids," I corrected. "They never found the last child's body."
"But they caught the guy who did it," Robin continued. "And he died in jail shortly after. His name was never publicly released."
"Obviously Fazbear Management wanted to keep it all quiet," I scoffed bitterly. "I suspect they paid off the families and remade their image."
"The two cases are probably related," Robin concluded. "But 20 years is a long time…"
For a few moments we drove in silence, speeding past the brilliant city lights.
"My mom took me to Freddy's when I was younger," Robin said quietly. "When she could get the money. And when she was feeling well enough. I remember the characters and everything."
"Keep those memories," I advised. "I have a feeling they will be useful."
A man in a purple Fazbear uniform was already locking up the restaurant when we arrived. Predictably, he was startled when we approached.
"What the– B-Batman?!"
"We're here to investigate the missing security guards," I informed him.
"O-Oh, right, right, cops sent you, I guess," He muttered nervously. "Um, I'm M-Mike Schmidt. I normally work day security here but, uh…since those guys went missing I got moved. This is my first night shift."
"We'll need to have a look around, Mr. Schmidt," I said sternly. He kept glancing between me and the pizzeria windows, as though afraid of someone watching him.
"Y-Yeah, yeah, of course!" Schmidt whirled around and began fussing with the doors. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna be starting my shift soon, so I have to get to the back office, but of course you're welcome to, uh, look around…and stuff…"
Inside, the pizzeria looked much like how I remembered, although it was obviously different at night. Without the lights and noise, it was as gloomy and spooky as any other building in Gotham. Even the animatronic characters on stage were inactive and sterile.
"Night shift duty is…well, it's p-pretty simple," Schmidt explained when we reached his office. He seemed a little less anxious here, more in control of his surroundings.
"Watch over the place through the camera monitors…report any unusual activity or e-even damage to property…normal security stuff, you know? Oh, and make sure not to go over the, uh, electricity limit," he added, gently tapping the light switch by the office doors. "They've been working on the power generator recently, and you…don't really wanna be sitting in the dark here."
"Sounds like a boring job," Robin commented.
"Well, there is one interesting thing…" The monitor screen flickered on, giving us views of the whole pizzeria, including the stage where the robots stood listlessly. "The animatronics have this free-roaming mode set up at night, so their springlock mechanisms don't freeze up. The springlocks are what enables them to move around on their own, although they also function as a costume that a human can wear. It's really quite ingenious engineering, actually."
Schmidt smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I'm a bit of a robotics nerd. Afton Electronics is really state of the art, you know. Point is, the animatronics wander around the building. Sometimes right into this office. If they see you, they'll probably think you're an intruder and raise a short alarm. It's not that big of a deal, but it's better to avoid it."
"I'll do my best," I said, flicking on my flashlight. "I'm going to have a look around. Robin, stay here with Schmidt. Let me know if you see anything on the cameras."
I memorized the map of the restaurant and then carefully crept out into the darkened hallways. My flashlight cast eerie shadows along the pizzeria's walls, illuminating the posters and children's drawings that covered them. I was not particularly eager to encounter any animatronics yet, so I stayed away from the main dining area where the stage was.
As I edged towards the supply closet, quiet but heavy thuds sounded from down the hallway. Robin's voice echoed in my comms earpiece.
"Heads up, Batman. Bonnie is approaching from the dining area."
"Which one is Bonnie?"
"The purple rabbit."
"Bonnie and Chica are more active earlier," Schmidt explained. "Freddy is slow and comes out later."
As he was talking I quickly flicked off my flashlight and ducked into the supply closet. Sure enough the thuds became louder until a large shadow passed by the half-open door. Bonnie was a big robot, much bigger up close than when he was onstage. I could hear his internal mechanisms heave with his footsteps, sounding almost like breathing.
Schmidt was right: the engineering on these things was really state of the art. Afton animatronics were large and heavy, but they were balanced and steady too. These were not the kind of robots I'd want to get into a fight with. Luckily, the darkness of the closet worked to my advantage, and I hid behind my cape undetected. As soon as Bonnie had lumbered off out of earshot, I slipped out of the closet and continued on my way.
"Chica's in the bathrooms and Bonnie is heading toward the west hallway," Robin guided me through comms. "Freddy's still onstage but he doesn't move much, so your path is clear."
"Just keep quiet around the Pirate's Cove area," Schmidt warned. "There's another animatronic in there called Foxy. He's been deactivated for a couple months now, but better safe than sorry."
A long purple curtain and a small sign reading 'out of order!' indicated Pirate's Cove, which I easily distanced myself from. Just a few steps away was a door labeled 'Employees Only'.
"That's backstage," Schmidt said. "Where the employees hang out during breaks and stuff. It's been cleaned up though, so you probably won't find much in there."
I decided to follow my gut feeling and go in anyway.
The smell of cleaning fluid was indeed overwhelming in the small room backstage. Various masks, costumes and mechanisms, even a whole springlock endoskeleton lay all over the shelves, the floor, the tables. But it was all very shiny and polished. Nothing particularly stood out except…I sniffed the air tentatively. The cleaning scent was mingled with something else, something that I recognized deep down in my bones.
If you've ever been at a crime scene (or work in forensics), you know what dead flesh smells like. You know what decomposition smells like. I've been at many many crime scenes over the years (and studied a lot of forensics). I know a dead body when I smell one.
I immediately began ransacking the room, pushing aside robotic parts, methodically searching until finally, I opened a door and several thick black garbage bags fell out. Inside them were empty suits, costumes that normally go on an animatronic. Except they weren't really empty. They were filled with dead bodies.
"Ghh–" My stomach heaved as the smell became overpoweringly strong.
The blood was fresh and the body was still decomposing. The flesh was so mangled, it was difficult to determine the cause of death. Were they killed before being shoved into the costume? Or did the suit itself – with its internal springlocks – crush the victim to death? One suit, a Freddy Fazbear model, had the costume's head screwed on and the only signs that there was a dead human in there were the blood and the bloodshot eyes popping out of the mask's eye holes.
"I've found the security guards," I whispered over the comms.
"I have a visual," Robin answered, studying the camera monitors. "Were these guys wearing the suits when they were killed? Maybe the suits malfunctioned and killed them by accident. The pizzeria would wanna cover that up."
"They were security guards, not performers," I replied. "My theory is that the killer has been wearing the animatronic suits to sneak around undetected, then picking off the guards one by one. Hiding the bodies back here ensures no one finds them for awhile."
"This is weird even by Gotham standards," Robin said. "Why would someone go to all that trouble to murder a few night guards?"
"That is what we're here to find out," I walked out of the backstage area. "I'm heading back to the office now. Wait and–"
Suddenly the curtains of Pirate's Cove flew open, and something big and red jumped out.
SWISH!
A blade zipped through the air and cut across my chest. My kevlar suit took most of the hit, but still I cried out and jumped back in surprise. My flashlight was knocked out of my hand and shattered against the wall, plunging the area into darkness.
By the dim moonlight I could see that the blade was in fact a hook, attached to the hand of an animatronic fox with an eyepatch and pantaloons. Like Bonnie, he was shockingly mobile, crouched against the floor like a real animal about to attack his prey.
"Batman?!" I heard Schmidt's panicked voice over the comms. "Listen to me! Just stay still, okay?! He might not see you as a threat!"
"I think we're past being a threat right now," I answered grimly, raising my fists in a battle stance.
Foxy's soulless eyes met mine. And then he pounced.
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!