Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

School was boring, as usual; and the final few weeks of school meant crunch time. An endless sequence of test after test served to measure my patience more than my knowledge. Maths I could get. Anything else, however… Well, that’s easy to leave to the imagination. 

This was history- a subject that could be interesting with the right teacher, but ultimately became an exercise in memorisation, as I didn’t quite think that the teacher herself was terribly interested in history either. Dates, periods and names. That’s all it was, and I really didn’t care. For better or worse, I’d filled in all of my answers aeons ago, and I was starting to question if this last period would actually ever end. Withholding its mercy, the clock insisted that there were three minutes left, and that meant staying where I was until then – that is, if I was going to be a teacher’s pet about it. I raised my hand, and slowly but surely, Ms. Hawthorne came my way.

“Yes, Ian?” She spoke low, but still somehow firm.

“May I go to the bathroom?”

She peered at me from behind her small, narrow glasses. “Can’t you hold it? There’s only three minutes left.”

“Please?” I conjured my most innocent and desperate face.

Perhaps because I wasn’t one of the troublemakers, she looked torn. Ms. Hawthorne prized her orderly classroom, perhaps due to the envy it brought from other teachers, but she judged that I wasn’t going to be disruptive as I left, and she relented.

“Alright. I’ll take your paper then. Have you looked over it?”

“Yeah,” I lied. “Thanks.” 

As long as I passed, I didn’t care. I left the room, and stopped in the bathroom, entering a stall and taking a seat without lifting the cover. I checked my phone, and found that Dad had sent a text not long after last period had started.

It read, ‘Hey, kiddo! Hope your tests are going well. I’ve got a surprise for you, so make sure you work hard!’

I smiled and replied with, ‘Thanks Dad.’

After busying myself for a few minutes, I heard the bell ring. The sound of the halls flooding with students resonated, with some individuals making short trips to the same bathroom I occupied, but eventually, it died down, and I judged I was free to go. Stepping out of the stall, I caught my reflection in the mirror. I kept my dark brown hair swept just over my brow. It was too flat to do anything interesting with, and the thought of geling it up irked me to no end, so flat it stayed. My complexion was pale, but not ghastly, although the contrast between my hair and skin might have led one to think so. My green eyes stared coldly without any effort to do so, as my somewhat severe eyebrows made it difficult to seem pleasant. Lastly, my small jaw served to make my overall features all the more angular. I wasn’t complaining, but I would take a different look if it were an option.

Out of habit, I washed up and left the bathroom, finding an unwelcome sight. A group of boys hailing from the popular crowd hung around the entrance to the bathroom like a swarm of flies, which turned their attention to me as soon as I was in sight. I cursed my luck as I knew they were going to engage.

“Hey, Ian,” a douche I had taken to mentally referring to as ‘Pretty-Boy’ called. “How’d you wrangle Ms. Hawthorne like that? You train her to do that? Pavlov would be proud.”

The crowd snickered. I knew they didn’t care about picking on me like some of the others, and I wasn’t about to change that with this.

“I dunno.” I muttered, investing as little emotion in the two words as possible.

“Oh, c’mon,” another piped up. “I could ask her the same, and she’d shoot me down in a breath. You gotta be the witch-whisperer or something.”

It was clear that they were interested purely because of the spectacle. I resolved not to pull this stunt again in any more classes I shared with these goons.

“I’m not in her head, I dunno.” 

My mumbled words were clearly uninteresting for the crowd, as I wanted. If all went well, they’d move on to something more stimulating pretty soon. Armed with shrugging shoulders and muttered words, I prepared to take the first out they gave me. Unfortunately, however, a particularly acne-riddled individual hadn’t had his fun yet.

“You shag her or somethin’, dude? Kinda freaky, but I respect it.”

“The f***, man?” Pretty-Boy recoiled.

Pimples shrugged. “Oh, c’mon, it’s not as rare as you think. I heard Ashley was riding the vice-principal all last year. If Ian has a thing for old bags, then I say-”

“Excuse me,” an impossibly low voice rumbled.

Everyone stopped to look at the source, which turned out to be Evan, the beast of a teenage boy who stood head and shoulders above everyone here, including some teachers. Legend has it that he still hasn’t hit his growth spurt.

“You’re blocking the way.” He grunted rather plainly.

As though Moses himself had descended to bless this boy, the crowd parted at his command. And with that, wordlessly, he passed through. After a few seconds of silence as everyone watched him leave, with the mood being sufficiently eviscerated, the crowd dispersed.

I decided it was also my cue, and hurried along to catch my bus, wondering how I might repay Evan - to whom I have said a total of words, fewer than what I can count on my hands. Such a chance sounded like an unlikely event, but even if it was just coincidence, I felt indebted. But seeing that he was nowhere to be found, I climbed on my bus and waited to get home.

I was grateful for the weekend. Even as the rhythmic shudders of the bus rattled me, I found myself excited to get home. It was the only place I truly felt alive. After all, it’s not like anything I wanted to learn was being taught at school. I already knew what I wanted to do; I wanted to be a programmer – and not for dumb old computer stuff- I wanted to program robots. My Dad was a robotics engineer, but for… certain reasons, he didn’t do a whole lot of inventing. Instead, he worked a robot repair shop out of the garage, and made a business of fixing whatever came his way. In his free time he would find the craziest, wackiest bots out there, buy them, and sell them refurbished for what ended up as usually a profit. I didn’t admire him for the money he made, or for any impressive reputation – I admired him for his work, and for how much he always seemed to love it. And so I got hooked on programming because I thought it was the coolest thing ever, naturally.

I stepped off the bus, taking in the warm late-spring air. Summer would be here soon, and I couldn’t wait! I wondered what kind of projects Dad and I would work on together over those months. We’d previously made RC cars, robotic arms, and even a little talking toy I swore I still had somewhere. Of course, all were from blueprints that already existed, as-per Dad’s certain reasons. I drank in the welcome sight of the two-and-a-half story home. It was a bit of an older building, which had been renovated innumerable times. In defiance of the steady expansion of suburbia, it boasted a two-car garage, and a large yard, interrupting the steady march of carbon-copy homes that surrounded it on either side of our sleepy, end-of-the-road street.

But my dreaming of what might come next was cut short by the sound of Dad’s infamous kidnapper-style white van screaming into the driveway next to me. Not a moment later, my old man was already out the driver’s side and forging towards the back doors. He wore his dirty-blonde, greying hair short, as-per the traditional basic haircut he would undoubtedly never change. His eyes and brows mirrored mine- or rather, mine his, and yet somehow, even with the crows feet, his expression was unshakably pleasant. I knew the look on his face all too well; the invincible smile, the glittering green eyes- he had a new project, and he physically could not wait to show it to me. 

I swallowed my ‘hello’ and ran to open the garage door as fast as my still-growing limbs would allow. Naturally, even if I didn’t usually find his discoveries as fascinating as he did, I was excited. It was often pretty hit-or-miss whether the final product would turn out well, but when they worked, they worked great. I had my hopes up for this one. Whatever had Dad in such a good mood must have been stellar.

I skipped into the garage, seeing the clustered work benches, the drawers and hooks littered with tools, and most importantly, the testaments to our shared work. Projects of all kinds had homes on surfaces, shelves, and whatever didn’t fit was found on the floor, braced by walls. The ‘automaton’ he and I had worked on when I was eight still leaned quietly in a corner. I smiled. I’d been very ambitious back then, with hardly the knowledge to program an RC car. Ultimately, the poor thing was only able to shamble around, and bump into most of everything. But perhaps this time, things would be different. I turned back around to view Dad’s surprise, as I heard him approach.

My hopes turned to mild concern when I saw the massive, looming figure he was wheeling in, which was covered in garbage bags and duct tape, like a body wrapped by a professional killer. But Dad didn’t seem to think so, as he eagerly relocated it to the centre of the garage for me, and all of the abandoned projects in there to witness.

“Ian, get ready, ‘cuz this is gonna knock your socks off!” Dad gushed, like someone ready to lore-dump about a fandom they’re obsessing over.

“It’s… huge. Is it… a mech suit?” I guessed.

“Even cooler.” He said reverently, surgically cutting away the plastic with an exacto-knife.

“Ummmm, how ‘bout a super-secret death ray?”

“Better. I promise, you won’t believe it ‘till you see it!” 

Bemused and completely captivated by the morbid curiosity, I watched Dad methodically slice away at the shiny, black material, as he intentionally kept the grim packaging in place until it was completely free, so as to keep from spoiling the surprise. Then, with a flourish matching the energy of talented magicians, he pulled away the taped bags to reveal the form beneath.

“Tada!” He exclaimed, with his reaction to the figure being quite opposite to mine.

While the ears made it seem taller than it was, it was still undeniably enormous, standing over seven feet tall at the top of its head. It was a navy blue bunny character that had so long since seen better days, that it probably looked hardly better while it was still in active use. Its ribbon was tattered and droopy, its huggable plush body hung loose and thin, like an old pillow. Its left arm was severed after the elbow, like it was crushed under something, making the exposed metal flat like a blade. But worst yet was the face; its wide grin hung lower than it should, revealing its already-too-many teeth to be covered in grime, and its eyes were vacant sockets, out of which came black tear-stain-like streaks that ran down its face. And despite the cheery, rosy cheeks attempting to create a pleasant expression, the resulting face was a mask of horror and pain, the like of which torture victims might make.

“Isn’t it beautiful?! This is a vintage animatronic from a Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza!” He enthused, heedless of my abundant reluctance.

“Where did you even get this thing?” I inquired cautiously, my morbid curiosity growing to surpass my unease.

He turned to face me, grinning like he couldn’t believe what he was about to tell me either.

“I found it at a private auction! It was so cheap, I almost feel bad for taking it!” He chuckled excitedly.

“So… does it… work?” I found myself hoping the answer was ‘no’.

“Well, I wasn’t told it was busted… guess there’s only one way to find out!”

And before I could object, he flipped a switch somewhere on its back. My eyes darted from each of its limbs and back to its face for about ten seconds, until a total of grand old nothing happened, easing my suspense somewhat.

“Huh. Guess not. Ah, well- I already expected as much. What fun would it be to fix up something that’s already working, anyways?” Dad snorted. “How about you do me a favour and plug it in and see how its insides are doing while I print off the blueprint? Sound like fun?”

“Sure Dad,” I affirmed hollowly. “I’ll let you know if anything stands out.”

Dad left the room, and I started my work nervously. Unzipping the old fabric torso took more time than I liked, as it caught consistently on the bowing material. I hated the mouldy smell that wafted up from it at the slightest disturbance. It made me gag, it was so pungent. Undoubtedly the whole material would have to be replaced, not to mention the teeth, bow and eyes. I wondered solemnly how Dad was going to find these parts so that this thing could be out of the garage faster. I found the right cables, and plugged them into the character, connecting it to the computer.

“Ooookay, bunny man, let’s see how you’re doing in there.” I muttered, browsing through its files.

On the surface, everything looked fine.  Nothing was out of place, or missing. There wasn’t some huge malign file taking up an unreasonable amount of space. But deeper in, red flags began to raise. Keyboard smashes for titles, bizarre files, while inert, had nonsense contents no matter the program used to open them, and most unsettling of all, was a video file of significant size I skimmed that was completely corrupted both audibly and visually. Skipping through sections of static and buzzes, I stopped suddenly when it changed. What sounded almost like voices came through the speakers as uncertain shadows swam across the screen. I felt like I was beginning to see something- someone? The details were too hazy to even be certain of that much, but this probably wasn’t just static anymore. The form reached towards the camera, as if to rest its hand on a shoulder, before a deep, bit-crushed laughter played. Twin pinpricks of light burned from the screen, getting brighter and brighter until-

The power went out. I stumbled back from the computer, swallowing a scream somewhat unsuccessfully.

“You okay, kiddo?” Dad called from inside.

“Y-yeah, I ju- it’s nothing! I-I think it ran the computer too hard. The breaker prolly tripped.” I stuttered, not wholly sure myself if what I saw was real.

“Can you find it okay? I know there’s a whole lotta junk lying around there.”

“No prob. I got it.” I replied, half as reassurance for myself.

With trembling fingers, I pulled out my phone and took a shaking breath as I turned on the flashlight and made my way towards the breaker.

“Just static. That was just static, and nothing else. Too many horror movies. Never again. Never, ever, ever again.” I swore repeatedly as I flipped the breaker back on. 

Light returned, and I could hear Dad’s printer finally going after a moment. Relieved at the return of my now-favourite sense, I turned back around to go find Dad and get out of there. Reaching the door, I took a glance at the bunny, feeling a chill as it seemed to be staring directly at the computer chair. Had it always been doing that? I didn’t think I wanted to know. Allowing my paranoia to get the better of me, I found the switch on its back, and turned it off before leaving.

“Hey, Ian! You up for a drive?” Dad called from his office.

“Yes!” I responded, a little more energetically than I would otherwise.

Whatever got me out of the house away from this thing faster was immediately going to be my favourite thing of the day.

“Great,” he said warmly as he met me in the hall. “There are some parts I found online that are being sold in town, as well as a favourite place of mine to peruse. It’ll be a bit longer of a day; you sure you’re up for it?”

“Yeah, it’s the weekend, don’t worry about me,” I chuckled nervously.

Dad tousled my hair with a grin. 

“Alrighty, let’s head out.”

Chapter Text

“Corrupted?” Dad inquired as he drove. 

We were out getting the parts that were readily available nearby. I always came along for the ride, because Dad got ice cream for the both of us every time.

“Yeah, there was a whole lotta garbage nonsense in there. The programs and files that run the thing are okay. There’s a couple non-essential files that got corrupted that still have pointers to them, so I’m worried about what’ll happen if it tries to access any of those weird ones.”

Dad stroked his prickly chin with his free hand. “In that case, I agree; I think they should be removed. Can you do that, Ian?”

“Yeah, totally.” I paused. “...Dad, do you think that thing is… weird?”

He glanced at me with measured surprise. “Well, sure. I bring home plenty of whack-job-looking things, and I’m guessing you don’t think this one’s all that normal either. Why? Is something up?”

The laughter I forced myself to believe was static echoed in my memory, bringing fresh goosebumps to the surface.

“I-I mean it-it’s just- mega creepy… you know?” I wrung my hands as I watched the passing storefronts, thankful for the light as opposed to the empty abyss of night that taunted my imagination with lurking shadows.

I could feel his gaze return for another second before he responded, patting me on the shoulder. “You won’t have to worry long. We’ll have it looking spiffy in no time, so its ugly mug won’t be so freaky anymore. I promise you, this’ll start getting fun as soon as it’s face is fixed up. Besides, you can figure out what’s up with these things in a jiffy! If there was cause for concern, you’d be the first to know.”

“Sure, yeah.” I said, not terribly convincingly.

“Ian?”

“Yeah Dad?”

“You’d tell me if there was something wrong, right? No matter what it was?”

A pang of guilt struck me deep in the chest. “Yeah, don’t worry. Just played too many horror games.”

I think he saw through it, but he didn’t press any further. We sat in silence a while, before we arrived at the last place on his list, which struck me as little more than a glorified junkyard. The bright neon sign at the front stabbed uncomfortably at my eyes, not that I was all that interested in the name of the place. We exited the sus-mobile, and I followed Dad into the building.

“Hey, Ted! You still up?” Dad barged, with enough apparent familiarity to grace this place with his presence at a moment’s notice.

After only a few seconds, a head obscured by a welding mask poked itself through a distant door. “Andy! Hold on, I’ll be right with ya.” 

I took a moment to observe the foreign interior. It reminded me somewhat of the garage- robotic parts on every surface, including counters, night stands, the fridge – if not for the cash register sitting on the kitchen island, I would’ve been convinced that this was a featured home in a hoarder show. The man referred to as Ted left the room down the hall again, lifting the welding mask to reveal a somewhat gaunt face that was offset by the short, bushy red beard that came to thin, frazzled ends. He had bright blue eyes that sat beneath a heavy brow, which while serious, didn’t look angry. A boyish grin spread across his face as he approached to greet Dad.

“Hey Andy,” He greeted with a laugh. “Been well? Ooh, is this little tyke Ian?”

Dad snorted, a smirk clearly visible. “Just fine. Yup, this is Ian- although, ‘little tyke’ has been a while since passed. Boy’s gonna be fourteen this fall.”

I knew I was in for a ‘catch-up’ once Dad got talking with someone he hadn’t seen in at least a week, they got the whole rundown of every little event that happened since. For the first ten minutes, I took my cues and nodded along, answering where needed, but by the twenty minute mark, I was extremely done, and busied myself with letting my eyes wander a little more while the adults got closer to business talk. There was a lot of interesting things there; mostly-assembled robot dogs occupied one corner, while old amusement park animatronics stood in file behind the counter at the back of the kitchen, even a little train stood still on its elevated tracks, which looped and coiled around the length and breadth of the visible building interior. But most notably were the endless drawers of semi-organised parts, which sat mostly obscured by the action-figure-sized robots that littered the place. But despite the unending novelty, I quickly grew bored, and quietly passed it on to Dad that I was going out to go explore. With only a, ‘don’t go too far’, I was free. 

At first I wandered around the front, where rusty tire rims, a crippled bicycle, and a few stray, gap-toothed cogs littered the property, but that, too, failed to entertain me long. Eventually, I was tempted enough to peek around back, where the fence dividing the house from the junkyard met the building. Peering over the diamond-patterned wire gate, I saw endless sources of curiosity; old cars, discarded robot carcasses, motorcycles, CRT TVs, pastel fridges- all of which looked interesting enough to investigate.

Not being specifically prohibited from entering, I scaled the fence and began my adventure. I took my time pretending to race in the cockpit of a gutted 60’s-era car, cruising down an imaginary track, until I caught sight of rows of motionless figures. My curiosity sufficiently piqued, I exited the vehicle for a closer look. Circumnavigating heaps of machinery and parts, I came upon a bit of a bizarre sight; a multitude of theme park animatronics were leaned, sat, or otherwise placed with their legless stumps on a smorgasbord of plastic lawn chairs, like an audience to nothing in particular. The disturbing view twisted somewhat at my stomach, but determined to get a good look, I perused defiantly, hoping my suppressing of my fear would make it go away. I decided to get a look at the sheer variety of what was very intentionally placed here. A maid, a chef, a magician slumping uncomfortably on his legless hips, a pair of anthropomorphic elephants side-by-side, a wild-haired girl, a goose surrounded by goslings, an ash-haired boy, a group of sock-puppet-inspired characters that were probably infringing on copyright- there were many more, still, but I was growing tired of trying to identify each individual from the sea of still faces. Instead, I wondered at the reason behind such an array. 

Moving back to the front, I tried following their eyes, the converging points of where the chairs were facing- all to no avail, when my eyes told me that something was wrong with this picture. I furrowed my brow as my stomach twisted with worry. What was different? Had something fallen? Did one slump further? …Did one of them look at me? Fear crawled across my skin as I continuously failed to decipher what felt so wrong. I was on the brink of just bolting when I had a realisation – The boy was gone. A tap on my shoulder, and I turned to see him standing in my face, backlit by the harsh, industrial floodlights, and yet catching a small, bright glitter in his shadowed eyes. With a shrill yelp, I booked it back to the fence, scrambling over it with admittedly little grace or speed, due to the frantic nature of my attempt, and stumbled, running the last few metres to the door before I barged back in. The adults looked up with a start, but Ted seemed to gather the clues quickly.

“Caleb spook ya, kiddo?” Ted asked, evidently having seen my expression.

“N-no, I just didn’t see him until…” I defended transparently.

Ted chuckled. “That boy’s an odd duck, but you don’t need ta worry about him. He’s just shy.”

Seemingly interested, Dad started on the topic of proposing play dates between us two kids, which spanned the entirety of the remaining preamble to the actual deal. During which, my gaze continually returned to the distant section of the junkyard, where the animatronics obediently attended their nothing premier. Caleb didn’t return.

Dad ultimately found some parts that he needed, but not what he was looking for. On the drive home, he pitched the same idea to me, excited at the prospect of his, and the son of his friend becoming friends ourselves. I didn’t turn him down on account of his obvious desire for it to come to fruition, so I responded neutrally, staying open and respectful of the topic to avoid conveying my reluctance. Thankfully, Dad seemed ignorant of it. Although I wanted to avoid it, even if it did mean playing with the spooky kid, I didn’t want Dad to be upset about what my childish anxieties caused. But eventually, we were home again, and I went to start dealing with the corrupt files. As soon as I entered the garage, I felt my hairs stand on their ends. I hated that the animatronic was facing the desk. While I was relieved that it wasn’t looking away just to gaslight me, I found myself wishing that it was looking anywhere else.

What resulted was a thirty second stare-down, which I obviously lost. Shaking my head from the foolish amount of comfort it brought me, I plopped defiantly in the chair it had its focus on, setting my milkshake next to the keyboard, opposite to the mouse. That was a mistake I wouldn’t repeat. I opened Bunny-Man up again, and stared nervously at the files. Questions I had been entertaining, but never resolving, began swimming through my head.

‘What if they’re encrypted? What if it’s actually really important, but it’s just corrupted? Is there any way to tell? But it’s freaky! I don’t want this thing moving around with these cursed-looking files in there!’

I took a deep, grumpy sip from my milkshake as I anxiously fumed. Whatever. This thing was whacked out, and I wasn’t gonna take the summer to work on it if it was chock full of files that may-or-may-not have somehow caused the breaker to trip. First on the chopping block was the problem of two separate navigation scripts; a comparably boring problem to fix, but a strange one regardless. One was extremely simple, and hardly gave it any liberties to move, while the other based its code around the fact that it was assumed, but referenced corrupted files. I felt tempted to keep the simple one, but keeping the complex one meant getting that satisfying result Dad wanted, so it could be out of here as fast as possible. I edited out all of the aimless pointers, and started moving files to the recycling bin. I paused. Next was the video file. Every fibre of my being was screaming for me to just delete it, but I was hesitant. Couldn’t it be evidence? What if I wasn’t just seeing things? In response, the wise, horror movie guru part of me rather plainly explained how it was the worst of bad ideas to keep that in there. But still somehow torn, I finally resolved the conflict by pulling out an external hard drive and moving all of those files, including the ones in the recycling bin and archived versions of the altered files, into it. I exhaled a breath I didn’t realise I was holding, shutting off the computer and wrapping the cables back into neat, oblong coils.

“Dad, I’m done,” I called. “It’s all yours. I’m going to bed.”

“‘Kay, bud.” He responded. “If you need me at all later tonight, I’ll be out picking up a part from the next town over. Call me if you need anything.”

“Alright,” I affirmed, making double-sure that Bunny-Man didn’t move as I left, but to my almost disappointment, it remained completely still - as if to further question if it had moved at all to begin with. Annoyed, I left the garage to prepare for bed.

Chapter Text

I couldn’t sleep. The anxiety of the day kept me fighting for rest, as my eyes stubbornly crept open with infuriating regularity. I kept going back to my memory of the video. What if it wasn’t static? What if I wasn’t imagining things? What if… it was actually dangerous? Rationality wrestled for control. No. Crazy talk like that was where science goes to die. But that doesn’t mean that the video wasn’t suspicious. It was absolutely weird, and that didn’t mean it was cursed, or anything. That’s right. I just had to look more into it and see if it was worth anything. 

Pleased that I had reached a resolution, I eased up somewhat. But despite the comfort it brought, I was still unnerved by that creepy character, and the video it previously had hidden. I decided to deal with it like how I dealt with all of my nights that were troubled by horror content, and popped in my ear buds to play music until I would fall asleep. As soon as I had it playing, I relaxed immensely. It was just so much better to be listening to the familiar tunes than to be thinking about the freaky nonsense I couldn’t figure out, even if the music was a little loud at times, because at least it was the only thing on my mind. Slowly, but surely I began to drift, grateful for the release.

My ears alerted me to a low, inconsistent sound that definitely wasn’t a part of my music. Tuning in, I realised someone was talking. Was Dad on the phone? I wondered momentarily, annoyed that my sleep had been stolen from me, before my blood turned to ice. Dad wasn’t home. I flung myself out of bed, and grabbed my phone, disconnecting the ear buds and engaging the flashlight. I opened the dial pad, preparing to either call Dad or the police, and slowly exited my room. I could hear the talking better as I moved down the hall towards the stairs, and the more I heard, the more certain I was that it wasn’t human, much less Dad. It was too low- too garbled. I found my hands slick from sweat as I desperately gripped the bannister on my way down the stairs. I followed the sound, hoping that some benevolent force would intervene and make it not what I thought it was. But the closer I got, the more sure I was that it was coming from the garage.

The unholy gibbering continued unabated as I crept into the garage, hearing it echo off the walls in a demonic cacophony. On shaking legs, I continued, all but holding my breath as I followed the sound. It wasn’t coming from where I left the Freddy Fazbear freakshow. The image of the thing staring into a corner and gibbering nonsense to itself burned into my mind and wouldn’t go away. I was starting to hyperventilate. It took my all just to keep the flashlight pointing straight, due to my shaking hands. 

I finally reached where the sound was coming from, and was confused to find nothing standing in the corner where the noise originated. Something clicked in my mind, and I reached to the shelf to confirm. Pulling out a small monkey toy with a speaker on its tummy, I realised that the talking toy I’d forgotten years ago was here all along, basically out of battery, and emitting the horrid noise on that account. I laughed to myself for being so stupid. Of course, nothing strange was going on. I flipped the switch and placed the toy back. It was just really strange that it had started talking now out of nowhere. Chuckling to myself out of sheer nerves, I turned around to head back to bed.

Instead, I ran face-first into something big that wasn’t a part of my mental map of the garage. I stumbled back and shone my light at the obstacle. A weathered, grey plush stomach, surrounded by navy fabric. By impulse, my arm directed the light upwards until there was no denying what it was. The character was staring directly at me, with twin backlights all but dissecting me from within the empty sockets. I screamed. Backing away, I tripped and fell, but continued to scramble as far as possible from it, until I was in a corner with my knees, my arms- anything in front of me to keep me safe. The character wasn’t any closer. In fact, it had also backed away. I thought that I must have been projecting, but it almost looked like it was frightened too. As if startled by a loud dog, it held its remaining hand out defensively. 

Unsure how to proceed, I stared, unmoving for more than a minute as I slowly calmed down. 

“Okay… what the heck is it doing?” I muttered to myself.

It cocked its head. As if to respond, it moved its mouth, only to emit an unholy squeal of mechanical failure. I flinched. So did it.

“A-are you… trying to… talk?” I asked, still trembling somewhat.

It nodded, flapping its semi-loose lower jaw with the motion.

I assessed the character carefully. It didn’t seem aggressive. In fact, it struck me as almost intelligent. Standing up, I gingerly moved and turned on the lights to see better, and with a flick, it was no less terrifying. I swallowed, finding my throat dry.

“So… you can understand me.” I said more as a statement of fact than a question.

It nodded again.

“Geez, a broken voice box is gonna be a pain,” I muttered to myself, still struggling to reconcile its innocent demeanour with its hellish appearance. “Do you have… a name?”

I swore it seemed to brighten at the question, to which it almost responded with another verbal malfunction, but stopped, and instead formed a letter with its hands- hand. It also realised this, and ‘scratched its head’ with the phantom limb. I laughed. It was just so absurd, that I couldn’t help it. It seemed taken aback from that, but soon mimed a laugh as well. For a moment, there was just the hilarity of the blunder, and no gripping questions or fears concerning this horror attraction star.

“Okay, okay-” I giggled. “How ‘bout this.”

I searched up the ‘iconic’ animatronic band featured in the sensational pizzeria this character apparently hailed from, and showed it the result. Bunny-Man brightened again, pointing excitedly at its likeness, and the name that corresponded to it.

“‘Bonnie’? As in ‘Bonnie the bunny’?”

It nodded proudly.

I snickered. “Real creative. If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess that the bear’s name was Barry!”

It was as if it was trying to be mad, but couldn’t help but find it amusing as well. I found it so bizarre. Talking to ‘Bonnie’ was like talking to a person. I knew there was some advanced stuff packed away in there, but I didn’t know it went this far.

“So, Bonnie, do you… remember anything from… from before?”

Bonnie’s eye lights dimmed somewhat. It cocked its head, before brightening again and shrugging.

I frowned. Had its memory been something I moved? But even so, was it intact? The whole situation surrounding this character was whacked out. Was I ever going to learn anything about it, or was I going to be held in the suffocating darkness, never knowing?

Something came to rest on my head. I jumped. Looking at the source, it was Bonnie, holding its hand there as an offer of comfort.

“Thanks, but that’s real gross, Bonnie. You look like you’ve been surfing in a dumpster… for a couple years.”

It seemed horrified, impulsively dusting away at nothing in particular, as its body was all stained, torn, and mouldy- not exactly stuff that just comes off. It caught its reflection in a window, and stared strangely at itself for a while, when I heard a knock on the door.

“Ian?” A voice called. “Ian, we heard a scream – is everything okay?”

I shushed Bonnie, turning the garage lights off as I ran towards the front door and opened it.

“Uuuuuh- hey, uh, Mr. and Mrs. Collins!” I greeted my neighbours. 

They were an older couple, fresh into retirement. Mr. Collins was plump, with the likeness of a beardless Santa Clause, while Mrs. Collins was small, thin and still mostly grey.

“Is everything alright dear?” Mrs. Collins asked softly. “I’d thought there might’ve been a break-in.”

“N-no, I just got spooked by an old toy Dad and I made,” I laughed nervously, omitting the other source of this night’s anxieties.

“Ya sure?” Mr. Collins piped in. “I thought I saw somethin’ walkin’ around in your garage.”

“Uh- that was me! I was looking for what was making noise while I was trying to sleep, and it turned out to be an old talking toy I lost a while back. The battery was near-dead, and it sounded like it was summoning a demon!”

“Oh, that sounds awful! Did it give you a fright?” Mrs. Collins soothed.

“I was- yeah, it surprised me,” I admitted.

After I had assured them that everything was perfectly fine, they turned the conversation to a short keeping-up session of the usual, boring questions. As grateful as I was for the reminder that my body would be discovered expeditiously in a horror movie, I was nervous about leaving Bonnie alone long, especially since it didn’t have any context yet for what was going on. And of course, the small talk dragged on, only being interrupted by a proper thud coming from inside. Mrs. Collins looked startled. Mr. Collins was more vigilant.

“Ian,” He whispered. “What was that?”

“I- uh, think something fell! One sec!”

I turned around, rounding the corner only to be met with Bonnie standing just out of the front door’s visual range. As silently as possible, I shooed it back towards the garage, making pleading motions when it seemed confused. Finally in the garage, I whispered as carefully as I could.

“Please stay here for now; I’ll explain later.”

Bonnie didn’t look terribly pleased, but it nodded.

I hustled back to the front door, wishing I had the superpower to stop sweating suspiciously on command. Not waiting for them to ask, I asserted my story.

“So yeah, things were just out of place while I was looking for the toy. Something fell, but it’s okay- nothing’s broken!” I beamed, realising by then that I was definitely a nervous laugher.

Something seemed to click in Mr. Collins’ head, and I was suddenly terrified. Had I been caught? Was he gonna go inside and find Bonnie? What was he gonna do with it?

“I see, I see,” Mr. Collins grinned mischievously. “Well, make sure everythin’s proper cleaned up before your old Daddy comes home, okay?”

Mr. Collins gave his wife a side glance, still smiling, and she seemed to catch the same misunderstanding.

She chuckled. “Just be safe, okay? I know you look up to your father, but it can be dangerous. As long as you promise me you’ll take care, we’ll let you go.”

It was my turn for my brain’s switch to flip.

“D-oh, okay. Y-yeah, I promise. I won’t do anything dangerous.”

The older couple smiled warmly and said their goodbyes, and finally, I was mercifully left alone. After waiting a minute for them to find their way back home, I went back to the hall, where I found Bonnie staring through the open door from the garage, seeming to be examining the interior. I couldn’t help but be uncomfortable for a moment. It was so easy to forget the friendly, goofy and bumbling behaviour when it was just the character staring silently in all of its horrifying grandeur. But thankfully, that moment didn’t last long, as Bonnie caught sight of me and held out a ‘thumbs up’ quizzically.

“Yeah, it’s cool. All clear.”

Bonnie ducked under the door frame this time, still sporting a dent in its plush forehead from the thud earlier. Looking around, Bonnie shrugged and gestured to the place.

It took me a second. “Oh! This is my Dad’s house. Uh, I think the pizza place sold you off, so Dad bought you to fix you up.”

Bonnie wore a surprisingly complicated expression for an object with no capability for such things. The intensity of the stare at nothing in particular made me nervous.

“But hey!” I exclaimed, hoping to break the frigid atmosphere. “Once we’ve got you all fixed up, I’m sure there’ll be a different one that will pick you up. That way, you won’t be away from your friends!”

Bonnie considered this with an indecipherable look. But after a few seconds, it softly nodded, meeting my eyes.

Relieved to have an affirmation, I took a calming breath.

The massive animatronic waved for me to follow, and led me to the window in the garage that faced the Collins’ house, and pointed questioningly.

Turning back on the lights so I wouldn’t trip and die on something sharp, at first I was confused why it wanted to go out there, but I quickly realised what Bonnie meant.

“Oh, n-no, I don’t think it’s a good idea to meet people, at least not looking like that.” I explained, meeting its gaze for a moment. “People might misunderstand, or- or freak out, or something.”

I felt bad seeing the way that Bonnie slumped its shoulders. This was an animatronic whose express purpose was interacting with people, and right then, it couldn’t even do that. I had to wonder if all of this was just really complicated code, or if it was… no. This was the era of AIs, and people marrying chat bots, after all. But even through that lens, I couldn’t help but admire how life-like it behaved.

“Hey, you’ll get to meet my Dad in the morning, though. Just make sure not to freak him out like you did with me.” I laughed.

Bonnie seemed to perk up at that.

“Cool. So… I gotta go to bed now. It’s the weekend, but I can’t be staying up this late the whole time. Do you… want me to turn you off?”

Cocking its head, Bonnie shrugged, not seeming to understand.

“Uh… it’s like how I need to go to sleep! When I sleep, most of the time it feels like I just skip to the morning. It should be similar for you.” 

Considering this, Bonnie nodded.

Guiding it back to its usual spot, I located the switch.

“Okay, g’night Bonnie. See ya tomorrow.”

Bonnie nodded one last time before I flicked the switch, and the character slumped into a rigid, motionless state, devoid of life.

I considered the night’s events, finding there to be too much to properly process. I had befriended(?) a nightmarish animatronic that had until less than an hour ago been the object of immense fear. It didn’t remember anything, which was a real pain, because I absolutely did not want those whackjob files in its head. I was all-but certain that the corrupted video held answers, but I was feeling more eager to take a slide down thirty metres of cheese graters and sandpaper before I was ready to do that. I sighed. I wasn’t going to get answers by standing there and breathing in the mould that plagued this poor thing. I switched off the lights and left the garage, only taking one regretful glance back at the still frame of the nightmare-fuel standing vacantly as it had before. I still had a long way yet before I could be comfortable with the concept of living with a rotted bot, but I would find that, for better or worse, it wouldn’t quite take that long to get over.

Chapter Text

Morning came far too soon, ignorant of my obvious need to sleep in. I felt like a raccoon being disturbed from its luxurious rest in the dumpster by a naïve and innocent child. But unlike the simile, there was no physical child I could hiss at to scare away. Instead, there was the sound of breakfast cooking, which I was begrudgingly grateful to hear, despite my reservations about getting less than four proper hours of sleep. I blearily stumbled down the stairs, using what little self-preservation I could muster to avoid granting gravity the courtesy of escorting me to the bottom.

Dad, who definitely got as much as, or less sleep than me, was shining brilliantly in spite of that fact. And while a measure of pity seeped into his expression as he cooked, it served better to flavour his joking mood.

“Rough night, buddy?”

“Somethin’ like that,” I slurred, blinking the blurriness out of my eyes.

I slumped into a chair, waiting for my brain to kick into gear. The smell of hash browns and breakfast sausages helped to remind my stomach that the last thing I’d eaten was that milkshake last night. Realising this, it decided to protest the audacity of waiting to eat, the entirety of the remaining two minutes that it took for dad to wrap up at the stovetop.

“Ooookay, here we go.” He sighed, satisfied with his work. “Now, you know I’m not your mother, but I put my heart and soul into those hash browns.”

“It’s fine, Dad,” I reassured, hoping I’d convince myself as well. “Your food’s great, I’m not complaining.”

My response seemed to pluck a bittersweet string. He smiled with an obvious wash of sadness in his eyes, and patted my shoulder as he sat down. 

The mood brightened up as we began to eat. Dad talked about his adventure the night before, regaling me with the events of his trip to the next town over, and I found myself wondering how I was going to break the news to him about Bonnie. The strange character was puzzling in more ways than one, and frightening in many more. Surely, it was something that Dad could get over as soon as he saw how it behaved, but the introduction was another matter.

After dad wrapped up his fisherman-style recounting of his crazy night plagued by dangerous drivers and dedicated collectors, the conversation turned to our garage’s current resident.

“I was actually able to replace the battery last night,” Dad announced proudly. “I wasn’t having much luck looking for them online, and I was worried I’d have to give in and buy a $300-dollar one all the way from South Korea, but I called a buddy of mine, and it turned out he had just the one I needed! I’m looking forward to seeing if it works today.”

I shifted awkwardly in my seat, toying with my last bite of a sausage.

“Uhhh, you… might not need to check.”

Dad stared, confused, like a young deer watching a speeding truck hurdle towards it. After a moment, however, he seemed to come to a conclusion.

“Ian, were you testing it without me last night?” Dad pouted, teasingly.

“N-no! I heard that old talking monkey screaming like a demon, ‘cuz it was low on battery, so I went to shut it up, and…”

The playful grin slipped somewhat from Dad’s face as he watched my expression.

“But, uh- everything’s fine!” I asserted, hastily attempting to shut down the serious mood that had suddenly filled the air. “It just spooked me, is all. I think you should actually see for yourself.”

My father maintained his dissecting stare a few seconds longer, as though to look into my very soul for the answers I was hesitant to offer.

“Alrighty, let’s clean up here and take a look then, shall we?”

After our duties at the table were finished, I found myself taking the lead. Like a nervous presenter walking ahead of a very important CEO, I felt anxious about what his reaction might be. Dad had left any intensity behind, but his usual boyish grin was gone also. It was uncomfortable. His normally bright eyes were clouded over with thought, making him indecipherable. We left the kitchen, passing the entrance to turn down the hall where the indoor garage entrance was.

“Uhhhh, so… just so you know, I was kinda surprised too, so… if anything… weird happens, then… well- just get ready to expect it..” I warned.

“Is it that strange?” Dad inquired, a slight frown showing his concern on his brow.

“I mean… it’s definitely something I never expected.”

With neither of us particularly reassured by my words, we entered the garage. Dad moved to stand in front of Bonnie, crossing his arms like the poor thing was in trouble. I moved behind it and located the switch, taking a calming breath.

“You’re certain that everything’s okay?” Dad probed.

“Y-yeah. It’s just… really hard to get it until you see it for yourself.”

Dad seemed less guarded hearing that, but remained unreadable in expression. I prepared myself to flip the switch, hoping sincerely that Bonnie wouldn’t react poorly and worsen any existing misunderstandings. Resolving to get it over and done with, I turned it on.

I was hardly given a second’s warning as Bonnie’s voicebox screeched out a tortured note, and the massive character recoiled, stumbling into me, and knocking me over. Next thing I knew, I felt its rotten plush feet back into my prone torso, before it tripped, pinning me to the ground with its massive limbs.

“Ow, Bonnie! What gives?” I coughed, trying to regain the wind knocked out of me.

“Ian!” Dad shouted, surging to my side in an instant, and lifting Bonnie’s legs off of me. “You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

“No, I think I just scraped my elbow,” I cringed, looking at the stinging flesh wound.

“Lemme take a look.” 

Bonnie struggled on the ground, trying to stand. Dad jumped, apparently not expecting any further movement than its initial fit. Having difficulty particularly because its missing limb provided less support than it would like, Bonnie made a few attempts, failing to maintain a proper sitting position to get up from.

“I think it needs help standing up,” I commented flatly, before the comedic nature of the display caught me and sent me into a giggling fit.

Puzzled, but maintaining his composure, Dad elected to lend a hand as we helped the weighty animatronic stumble up to a standing position. 

Bonnie looked between the two of us back and forth for a moment, and spotted my injury. It brought its remaining hand to its mouth in horror, as though the exposed metal inner workings of the limb would cover the gaping cavern created by the dislocated jaw. I found that adorably funny. Bonnie proceeded to fuss over me, miming apologies, until I could stop laughing enough to direct its attention to Dad.

“Bonnie, this is my dad.”

Bonnie nodded in acknowledgement.

“And Dad, well- this is Bonnie.”

Dad approached Bonnie with a strange look on his face, stopping as close as he could maintain eye contact with his 5’10” frame. 

To its credit, Bonnie didn’t shrink away from Dad, despite the nervous look it held. The animatronic glanced at me for help, so I provided it with the legendary reassuring powers of two thumbs up and an awkward grin.

Abruptly, Dad grabbed onto Bonnie’s head and peeked into the eye sockets, as though it offered a better look.

“Well, you weren’t kidding! I knew there were some newer parts in here, but I didn’t ever consider that it held a sophisticated AI. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have guessed that Bonnie was just a mute guy in a costume!”

Bonnie’s arms fluttered with mild concern at being manhandled out of nowhere to such a degree. I felt horrible about how I found it so funny.

Dad eventually relinquished his hold on the distressed character.

“Well, Bonnie, I’m Andrew Masters, but you can call me ‘Andy’. It’s a pleasure to be working on you!” He held out his hand for a shake.

Tentatively, Bonnie took his hand, holding it like it was made of glass. Dad, on the other hand, was never one to like limp grips, and made sure to give Bonnie the full journey of a dad-tier handshake.

Somewhat disorientated, Bonnie bowed his head in acknowledgement, returning the greeting.

Releasing his crushing grip, Dad wasted no time jumping into business, speaking to Bonnie like it was his client.

“So, I’ve already done my preliminary assessment of the damages, and I’ve come up with a rough list of priorities for repairs that I’d like your opinion on.” 

Still reeling from the whirlwind of a greeting, Bonnie nodded excitedly, jostling its jaw about wildly.

“Alright, so my biggest concern has to be the loose wires in your missing arm-”

Dad began to list at length all of the mechanical mishaps, and improvements that needed desperate attention, including the few I was already aware of. Even with my comparably expanded knowledge of the mechanical workings of robots, I struggled to follow along with all of the specific references he made to parts and symptoms. 

It seemed Bonnie was being blown away as well, apparently knowing little to nothing about its own inner workings. After listening as closely as it could, Bonnie pointed to some of its own concerns, namely its plush costume, eyes, voicebox and its jaw.

Dad nodded along, trying to remain in business mode as his curiosity of Bonnie’s priorities threatened to take control.

“I can see where you’re coming from. We can definitely attend to your jaw if it's bugging you, since we have the tools necessary to do so right here, and it should be an easy fix. The voicebox is a bit of a tossup whether I can get it soon or not, but I might be able to take a look and see if I can’t fix the one here. As for the eyes and suit, as much as it pains me, they will have to wait. I understand it’s uncomfortable, but those are two parts that aren’t so easy to get a hold of. Besides, I think it might be better to finish all the major repairs before I get a new costume on you, so if something malfunctions, it’s not ruining anything that will be missed.”

Bonnie seemed a little disheartened to hear that, as its ears drooped. It pained me to see Bonnie like that, somehow.

“Could we… maybe patch it up a little?” I chimed in.

Dad seemed sceptical, but not opposed. “It’ll be a lot of work. It’s not like a wash all on its own will set it straight.”

“I know,” I admitted, “but it’s really gross, and Bonnie doesn’t like it either.”

Thinking for a moment, Dad came up with a plan.

“Well… I mean, if we take the costume off, we can basically clean it like a giant stuffed animal, right? That way, the only difficult things to deal with are the limb-sleeve parts, and the head.”

“Yeah! Can you show me how to do that?”

Dad smiled. “Sure, buddy. But after that, I have to get started on repairs.”

With Dad’s help, I got the plush parts off of the fidgeting animatronic, who had difficulty staying still despite our requests. Most entertaining wound up being removing the all-but-tattered foot coverings, as Bonnie struggled to sit upright. The resulting sight was no less disturbing than what we began with, as the bare endoskeleton evoked a more intimidating and alien sight. Inner guiding jaws were full of long, cruel-looking metal teeth, designed to stop the jaw from closing too far, which hung loose and gaping from the busted joint on its right. Its figure was slimmer, and yet more clearly sported its weight. Its chest was a ribcage-shaped box with twin doors that locked together. The gentle whir of a hidden cooling fan could be heard without the muffling plush surrounding it, but so could the slight pneumatic hisses of its joints. The only reminder that the character we had met was still there, was the childish way it tried to cover up with its part and full metal arms.

Humouring it, I found a spare bed sheet for Bonnie to drape itself in, as Dad began replacing the broken bolt in its jaw.

“C’mon now, don’t be shy buddy,” Dad poked. “There’s nothing there I haven’t seen already.”

Bonnie protested with an embarrassed, deep-fried grumble, making it very hard not to laugh at Dad’s crass joking.

“I’d say that your mind is in the gutter, Dad, but I don’t think gutters handle stuff that disgusting.”

It was Dad’s turn to fight to keep a straight face. But despite his mouth forming a flat line, the corners twitched and threatened to spread into a broad grin.

“As a responsible adult, I think a talk might be in order if you’re getting that kind of humour already.”

“Hypocrite.” I sneered, teasingly.

Our work quickly devolved into giggles, joined swiftly by the mechanical coughing of Bonnie laughing along.

. . .

My job ended up taking longer than I thought it would, with almost the entire day slipping by at its end. We ultimately broke for a single meal, affectionately dubbed ‘lupper’, being far too carried away with our work to stop for much more. The mouldy smell was replaced by the comparably bearable scent of vinegar, and much of the stains were either gone or faded. And although the tear streaks remained quite visibly, Bonnie was starting to look at least like a better kempt nightmare incarnate, which seemed to please the animatronic far more than I’d imagined it would.

Bonnie seemed to be enjoying its jaw not flapping about, watching the motions in its reflection in the window. It was cute – like a child making faces. I found myself wondering if all AIs were as curious and child-like as Bonnie.

“M’kay, Bonnie,” I yawned. “I didn’t sleep great last night, so I really need to head off to bed now. Guess I should switch you off too.”

Bonnie, who had only just turned and approached at being called to, suddenly backed off, shaking its head violently and making mic-peaking, desperate sounds.

“Waoh, woah- what’s wrong?” I inquired, trying to calm it.

Bonnie didn’t respond as it huddled in the corner, shaking its head over and over.

“Hey, hey… it’s okay. It’s okay, Bonnie. Everything’s okay.” I soothed as I slowly approached. “You don’t want to be turned off?”

It met my eyes, shaking its head again, but this time as one, sure motion. Bonnie was shivering like a cold dog neglected in the rain, washing in a wave of guilt and pity over me.

“Then I won’t!” I presented my hands placatingly. 

I wondered anxiously about what I should do about a frightened AI. Obviously, I couldn’t just turn it off and deal with it later; because for whatever reason, it remembered enough of… something to be this violently opposed to the idea. Aside from that, my only other abilities in that regard would be to open it up and see what was wrong in there, but this was a very complex AI, and I wasn’t exactly confident in that field, let alone the intricacies of emulating emotions. Now up to two strikes, that left only myself as a being, and whatever I could offer to the fearful animatronic as a result of that.

 “Do you need… a hug?”

Bonnie seemed to shake off some of the fear at the question, and after some hesitation, nodded.

I wrapped my arms around its midsection, only completing the encirclement due to the lack of stuffing, and stayed like that for a bit. It didn’t smell awful up close anymore. No more drink stains, smeared prints, or questionable substances to contribute to the previous unholy medley. The vinegar smell was strong, but just underneath was the welcome presence of the lavender-scented detergent that the torso was washed in. I felt a hesitant arm return the gesture, as Bonnie leaned down somewhat to reach.

“You okay now?” I asked, my face now pressed up against the threadbare fabric.

A comparably composed glitchy grunt affirmed.

“Alright,” I released, smiling up at my massive nightmare of a friend. “If you need anything, let me know. Tell me how you handle being awake all night in the morning, okay?”

Bonnie confirmed, waving almost sadly as I turned the lights off, and headed off.

Chapter Text

I was cold. It was a horrible, bitter chill that ate deep into my bones, gnawing away and draining me. I couldn’t move. Darkness swallowed me in a suffocating, rigid embrace, stifling my lungs and stealing their strength. I couldn’t breathe. It hurt. It hurt so much. Panic grew as my body refused my commands, becoming a frozen statue in the oppressive, clinging void. 

I had to run. If I didn’t run soon, I would be caught. By what or who, I didn’t know- but I knew it was coming. I tried again and again to get my leaden legs to move, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t scream, or even cry. It hurt so bad, but I had to move. 

The echoing clack of hard-soled shoes resounded around me. The cold reached my heart, ensnaring it in its cruel grip. Somehow, without ever seeing the figure before, I knew exactly what its approach meant. I had seconds before it was all over. It was now or never – I had to escape. Fighting against my own body, I strained and pushed to move- anything would do. Even as the figure drew closer, my efforts brought nothing. 

But I couldn’t give up yet. As long as I was out of reach, there was hope. Again and again, I tried, putting as much force into my efforts as I could. I wanted to cry. I wanted to collapse to the floor and hold myself- but even if I could do that, the amount of pain and suffering I would endure as consequence surpassed the worth of the act by leagues.

The figure was almost here. My time was almost out, and I had to move now . I pleaded desperately for my limbs to obey, hoping for whatever benevolent forces at work to take pity. And as if I was heard, there was a creak. My knee bent. Acting on that momentum, I pressed as hard as I could muster. A stumbling step. I felt like my joints were frozen over, but I couldn’t wait patiently for them to thaw. I worked into a shambling skip, delving through the dark in search of a way out.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Twin voices called in unison.

One was female, bitter and harsh. Her voice ripped through my ears like a rusty saw. It was angry and burning, like a vicious acid bent on destroying everything it touched, and then itself. The other was male; his was almost playful- nonchalant, even. But I made no mistake to believe it to be innocent, as an arctic apathy seeped in like frostbite, knowing that he was fully aware of my pain and fear.

My shambling evolved into a stumbling run. It was awkward, like walking in concrete shoes. The only thing that mattered is that I stayed out of reach. Anything else was secondary. I felt so heavy and sluggish. Why? Why was this so hard? Why was this happening?

“We both know how this is going to end,” the demonic duet intoned.

‘Well that makes two of you ,’ I flippantly seethed, surprising myself with my anger despite my fear.

Hoisting my leaden feet in the off-beat rhythmic pattern, I thundered my way down the endless, night-draped halls. I figured I should have fallen into something more regular, but something wasn’t right- was I injured? 

Everything looked the same. Nondescript flat-toned drywall stretched to and fro ad infinitum, with weathered floorboards failing to even offer inconsistent irregularity as a sign of progress. My internal compass spun like a pinwheel in the breeze, as unhurried, sharp footsteps pierced through the chaos as a constant reminder of my deadline.

I turned corners and charged through halls, winding about in a vain hope to lose the ever-constant footfalls of my pursuer, which, though it was further, it never changed, like the ticking of a clock. Unfortunately for me, the clock was my enemy today.

But just as I thought it was going to be an unending labyrinth, I glimpsed some faint light spilling through a hallway. The steps were fainter. I could escape this! I closed the distance as fast as I could, caring little for the noise I made with my stampeding due to the promise that lay ahead. Entering it with renewed vigour, I looked ahead. There was a doorway at the top of a staircase at the very end. This was it! All I had to do was-

I froze- and not by my own will. I was so close! Why? Why now?! How was it fair that escape was an arms length away, but I couldn’t move closer to reach? Straining and pushing against the invisible force, I found myself unable to progress even a millimetre. 

“Are you satisfied?” The unholy union asked rhetorically.

A hand gripped my shoulder. 

‘This fast? Already?’ But my reasoning couldn’t deny what was before me, as the figure turned into view.

“Because I think this has been enough,” the figure continued as its shadowy form locked in my gaze with two, blazing pupils. 

A distorted chuckle plummeted down the register as my heart dropped with it.

“I have so much planned for you.”

The room started to spin. It wasn’t fair. All of this effort for nothing? What could I do? I couldn’t run, I couldn’t defend myself- I couldn’t even breathe. Why couldn’t I breathe? My lungs burned- I just needed to breathe!

I gasped for air as my eyes flew open, but the hand didn’t go away. The eyes didn’t go away. Backing up in a panic, I fell off my bed with a thud. Disorientated by my return to familiarity, I took a moment to breathe and get my bearings. 

Bonnie’s head peeked over my bed, seemingly worried about my panicked episode. Immediately, the worst of my terror lifted, having understood the source of the hand and eyes. But even as the key pieces came together, I found myself puzzled.

“Bonnie!” I confirmed verbally, blinking as if the act would reveal the answers I wanted for me.

The animatronic waved meekly, bending slightly to fit in the room.

Somehow disappointed that I couldn’t gaze into souls to reveal what I pleased, I performed the unbearably laborious inquiries myself.

“What are you doing in here? This is my room.” 

I hauled myself to sit on my bed to more comfortably entertain Bonnie’s defence.

The character wrung its bladed stump of a forearm, seeming rather embarrassed. Avoiding my gaze, Bonnie produced an amp-filtered mumbling sound, which I gathered was supposed to be an excuse to disguise the fact it had gotten lonely.

I found myself wondering at how plainly easy to read this non-verbal, expressionless AI was. Perhaps it was a part of the job description to be an animatronic mascot that entertains children.

“Okay, okay- I get it. I guess that means we know how you deal with being alone at night now, so at least there’s that.”

I took a moment to evaluate, recalling how I’d woken up seeing the initially frightening sight of Bonnie crouching over me. The horrid nightmare must have made me visibly distressed when I was laying in bed.

“You were trying to wake me up because of my nightmare, right?”

Bonnie refocused on me, nodding happily now that we were discussing a positive.

I snorted, sighing like a parent receiving breakfast in bed composed of every last remaining egg in the carton.

“Thanks, I needed that.” I finally smiled, unable to maintain the serious, fatherly disappointed face. 

Bonnie took it like flattery, attempting to be humble as its pride poked through anyway.

“But,” I maintained, causing Bonnie’s ego to deflate at the word. “I’m not happy that you came into my room without my permission while I was sleeping. That’s really weird when people do it. I know we’re both still learning about you, so I’m not mad that you got lonely, but we have to talk about boundaries.”

Bonnie nodded, bowing its head. 

Scouring my head for ideas, I struggled to find any resolution that didn’t involve the poor animatronic rooming with either me or Dad. I decided to make concessions with conditions.

“Okay. Here’s what we’ll do; you can stay with me at night whenever dad’s not working on you late, as long as you’re quiet and don’t bother me while I’m sleeping. But in the day, if you want to come in, you have to knock, okay? That means if I don’t let you in, you can’t come in on your own. Sound good?”

Bonnie saluted, showing its best impression of a dutiful soldier. I could all-but hear the, ‘yes sir’.

Going down for breakfast, I briefly met with Dad, who explained he would be out for a jaunt to pick up some purchases he made. Armed with an apple and a slice of buttered toast, he made his exit, leaving me alone with Bonnie once more.

I had hardly made it to the kitchen, pondering what I should eat, when Bonnie bounced in front of me, excitedly trying to tell me something in a slapdash game of charades as the very ground beneath us quaked at the 1/3rd-tonne disturbance.

“Woah, woah- hold up, you’re gonna bring the house down,” I warned.

Bonnie seemed to think that the building collapsing was a fairly inconvenient, all things considered, and amended its behaviour by lightening its bouncing to acceptable levels before attempting its crippled communication again.

Unfortunately, the limit of my expression-reading was, shockingly, expressions. It seemed to dawn on us rather quickly that any exercise in complex communication would be rather impossible. I wondered if I could set up a speaker with a text-to-speech program for Bonnie as a temporary measure.

Finding me staring rather emptily at it, Bonnie’s improvised full-body sign language steadily lost its energy until it finally shrugged, letting its shoulders slump after the motion. The character cocked its head, staring as deep into the floor as it was in thought, before it suddenly perked up and made writing motions.

“Oh! Yeah,” I laughed, kicking myself internally. “I can get you some paper and a pencil. That’s a lot easier than what I was thinking.” 

I skipped into Dad’s office, feeling the familiar burn on my ears of embarrassment. Retrieving the materials swiftly as though my haste atoned for my oversight, I passed back through the living room into the kitchen where Bonnie waited.

“Here you go,” I presented dutifully, slightly out of breath from the sudden sprint. “Do you know how to write? I know some AIs are pretty advanced, but you can just draw if you can’t.”

I laid the paper and pencil on the small dining table that was tucked away in the corner opposite to the counters and appliances, and stepped back to watch the animatronic work.

The massive animatronic approached the table, bending as far as it could while maintaining its balance, and proceeded to very gently grab for the pencil. However, lifting its hand, the pencil did not come with it – it was simply too small and thin of an object for Bonnie’s sausage-sized steel fingertips to grasp. The kitchen reverberated with increasingly frustrated and distorted grumbles, as Bonnie continued to grab for it until it finally caught it between the knuckles of its closed fist. Victorious against the treacherous tool, it turned towards me with a grin and raised the fist, only for a gentle plink to sound, as the pencil slipped and hit the floor.

Choking down a cackle, I bent down and picked up the pencil, offering it in a manageable position for the flustered animatronic to receive.

“Here you go,” I said, smiling due to the spectacle as much as my reaction to the childish purity I was witnessing.

Bonnie grasped it firmly, and nodded an ashamed thanks, returning to position with a wounded ego. 

With the assurance that the pencil would not be making any more grand escapes, Bonnie proceeded to scrawl away for a few minutes. I wanted to peek, but the bulky animatronic obscured the page too much for me to see properly. Instead, I satisfied myself with wondering at the determined focus I saw in Bonnie as it worked. I found it almost more appropriate to imagine a child seated at the table, drawing with that expression.

I was pulled out of my thoughts at the clatter of the pencil hitting the table, as Bonnie excitedly stomped out of the way of the page and ushered me to it. Picking up the page, I was greeted with the adorable sight of two bubble-limbed figures, with their arms raised above their heads, and grins on their faces. Below them, a single word lay, resembling hieroglyphics more than English. After internally correcting the mirror-flipped ‘P’ at the start, and judging that Bonnie probably wasn’t putting a ‘d’ after the capital ‘L’, I realised the message.

“‘Play’? You want to play with me?” I confirmed.

Bonnie nodded vigorously, to the point I worried its jaw may come loose again.

“Okay, okay,” I grinned, giggling softly. “Just lemme eat some breakfast, and I’ll be ready.”

Due to Dad’s absence, I poured myself cereal. Normally, such a quick meal was a stress-free experience that I could plough through before getting back to whatever else I wanted to do before school or project work demanded my attention, but then again, normally I didn’t have an impatient animatronic bunny waiting on me. In the span of the near-ten minutes I spent eating, Bonnie went from pretending to be occupied by thought over in the living room, to tapping its foot and leaning against the nearby wall, to finally staring at me in various positions around the table.

“Bonnie, chill.” I complained around a mouthful of oat flakes. “I get that you don’t have to eat, but I do. I already skip meals too much as-is.”

Bonnie planted its chin on the table like a pouting dog, nearly causing my bowl to spill. A firm look communicated quite accurately what my levels of patience were at, and Bonnie winced with a downcast apology.

Finally, I drained the last of the milk from the bowl, and deposited the dishes in the dishwasher. I didn’t even have to turn around to know that Bonnie was going to be right there, brimming with energy.

“Okay, now I’m ready. Whadda ya wanna do?”

Bonnie pumped its arms enthusiastically, before covering its eyes with its hand, and removing it again with a flourish.

“Peek-a-boo?” I smirked incredulously. “I think I’m a little old for that.”

Bonnie shook its head, and mimed again- this time, crouching low and obscuring its face with its arms, before standing again and scanning the room, blocking an imaginary sun with its hand at its brow.

“Oh, wait- hide and seek!” I answered to an affirming nod. “I mean… is there anything else? We’re getting closer, but that’s definitely still little kid territory.”

Bonnie pleaded with surprising clarity, given its communicative hindrances. Somehow, the drooping ears and the bowed head tugged strongly at my heart strings.

“Okay, fine, you win- but only if I get to hide first.”

Bonnie nodded cheerfully, and turned around immediately to cover its absent eyes. Without hesitation, it began counting aloud with distorted pulses of noise.

I began lightly running about, suddenly realising with rising panic how unfair this was going to be with absolutely no indication of what it was counting to. Combined with the fact that I had not played this game in years, many of my favourite spots were either far too small, or just plain bad in hindsight.

Dad’s office was a no-go, as Bonnie was only a room-and-a-half away. The storage space under the staircase sounded appealing, but it would honestly be too unfair to the large character to hide in an unreachable place like that. Soundlessly, I scaled the stairs to assess my options upstairs.

The spare room and upstairs bathroom were both candidates, but fairly obvious ones. Neither had much to obscure me with either. My room was obviously out of bounds, with respect to my rules set earlier that morning. Were there really any good hiding spots at all? I found myself wishing I’d kept my old habit of scoping them out, despite all the years spanning between now and my last game.

A demonic, sing-song call marked the end of my time. My chest tightened from the sudden urgency as I wildly ran through my options, wishing the best choice would just appear before me. Heavy stomps on the floor below served to settle the debate regardless, driving me to slip into the hall closet. In the darkened interior, I ruffled my hair in frustration, immediately regretting my choice. Who wouldn’t look in the closet? I debated leaving to hide under the spare room bed. It wasn’t much of an improvement, because it was possible to see under it from far enough away, but I liked the idea of taking that chance better than hiding barely out of plain sight.

I reached for the door, intending to change my choice, when the stomping began coming closer. It must’ve searched Dad’s office first, which explained the free time I wasted panicking in the closet. There was no way I could get out now, as its senses were undoubtedly tuning in on this general direction. Leaving was too risky, but staying was just a plain bad idea. I desperately assessed my surroundings for anything I could use to keep me out of sight. To my right were towels and bathrobes on a shelving unit that stood stuffed to capacity. I supposed I could have taken some towels and covered myself, making a mound on the floor, but I kept looking. Above me was a permanent shelf that certainly had the room to fit me, but it was another question entirely if I could open the doors long enough to get up there, and yet another if it would hold my weight. Finally, to my left were all of the remaining towels that couldn’t fit on the unit, which I repeatedly abstained from putting up top.

‘Wonderful,’ I internally huffed. ‘Towel mound it is, then.’

As the sound of heavy metal feet meeting steps alerted my ears, I picked up the stack of towels off of the left surface. With it now bare, I was able to get a better look at what had been designated as the backup towel holder. My eyes widened as a grin spread across my face. It was an old, unused laundry hamper – and just my size.

I opened the lid and stepped in quickly. Towels still in hand, I lowered myself in and reached out of the light lid to plop the towels back atop of it, obscuring the conspicuous basket once more. Feeling sufficiently hidden, I allowed myself to revel in my success. But my smugness was short-lived, as what was supposed to be a lighthearted child’s game began its gradual metamorphosis.

Chapter Text

I relished in my internal gloating, feeling quite pleased with myself for my performance in improvisation. Upon hearing a final, reverberating stomp that marked the animatronic’s arrival at the top, I silenced my breath. There was no way I was going to lose to the character’s yet-untested hearing, even if it ended up average. The resulting silence alerted me to the fact that Bonnie hadn’t moved beyond the beginning of the hall. Surely the bulky thing couldn’t creep that quietly. …Could it? 

The silence was too long- too deliberate. I strained to hear any indication that the character had moved. A gentle whir. The sound that accompanied its turning head. It was scanning the hall. The playful tone began to drain away, as a seriousness bolstered by a fearful excitement rose to the surface. Perhaps this was a child’s game, but it felt like we were putting in an uncharacteristic effort into our roles; at least, that’s what I assumed.

A warped chuckle wormed into my ears, bringing my hairs to stand on end. My memory returned to the video and the nightmare, twisting my stomach. I had to shake my head to dispatch the creeping vision of those piercing eyes. It had never done that before. What was it doing? Was I that obvious? Whatever its reasons were, it was deliberate. It wanted me to hear. 

The stomping resumed, far slower than before. I froze absolutely still partly as an instinctual response, and heard it make its first guess. The bathroom door creaked open, indifferently permitting it entry. Lingering for a moment in silence, the hiss of the shower curtain then emitted faintly. More silence. Just how long was it going to take in there? But surely enough, rightly finding nothing, the animatronic exited the bathroom.

The heavy, measured steps passed by the closet at a painful pace. I was confused; if it was so confident, then why did it neglect to check the closet? Or rather- was it doing so on purpose? I felt a chill setting in as I struggled to refrain from shivering, lest I alert its senses.

It decided next on the spare room, taking slightly less time for its scan of the area than it did with the bathroom, but still, it was investing minutes at a time for these rooms. I chewed at my lip nervously. That had not been the case downstairs.

I became even more anxious when it passed me again. There was clearly no way it hadn’t seen the closet. I hoped dearly that it simply hadn’t considered the hiding spot, but intrusive thoughts whispered conspiratorially that it was toying with me- deliberately leaving it for last to stretch on this game for that much longer. But my thoughts were dispelled as the room-shuddering footfalls ended at the door to my room. It wasn’t seriously going to break my rules within the hour they were made, was it? And after a moment of silence, I was reassured by the absence of an opening door. That’s right. Bonnie wouldn’t do that. Bonnie wouldn’t mess with my head and freak me out for no reason. That childish, bumbling sweetheart of an AI couldn’t do something like that. After all, what kind of restaurant animatronic stalked people like that?

I was startled by a sudden, substantial thundering on my bedroom door. It was knocking just like I told it to. Seconds later, more of the door-shaking racket. It repeated again and again several times, before I briefly considered that it might actually break down the door at this rate. I felt the urge to exit my hiding spot just to tell it to stop, but something held me back from acting, as though that was dangerous.

The animatronic started speaking between knocks in the same, garbled, fuzzy manner every time. It was a short, pulsing noise, much like how it had sounded when it was counting. Was it giving me a countdown? My panic briefly rose as I internally scrambled over the thought of the possibility, but I stopped, realising it didn’t seem right. When it was counting, I could somewhat tell between the sounds of the numbers it was trying to say, but this was all the same. It made no sense for it to be repeating one number, so what was it saying? My discomfort grew steadily as I strained to decipher the word. The robotic repetition of the knocking followed by the unintelligible word made my heart race, and my breathing come hard. I was starting to feel sick. Couldn’t this just be over now? I badly wanted to just get out and for everything to go back to normal, instead of… whatever this was. But a primal part of me insisted that I had to stay absolutely still, or it would get me. I clutched my head in the darkness, seeing the nightmare encroach on my vision- the stuffy blackness and being frozen in place, all while being pursued. I had to go. I had to run. I didn’t want to see the eyes- not again!

Suddenly the thundering stopped, and it uttered the word one final time. My blood turned to ice as I realised the message.

“ IAN. ”

The closet door opened before I even realised it had moved. I suddenly found myself out of breath, having held it for who-knows how long beforehand. But I couldn’t afford to be noisy now. I took as small and as quiet of breaths as I could as my seeker observed the interior of the closet. I could see light coming through the material of the hamper despite the shadow cast over it by the animatronics massive figure. The sounds of oil-desperate joints and pneumatics were all-too close. I prayed it couldn’t say the same about my pounding heart.

Silence proceeded. I thought for a moment that my ears were failing me, but there was truly nothing; it was as though the character had simply vanished from the hall. But then why hadn’t the shadow moved? Did it run out of battery? Was it just waiting for me to give myself away? Did the lighting just always look like this with the closet open? I was starting to question the urgency I felt as time steadily passed.

A minute. Two, then three, five and ten of absolute silence. It was getting hot and uncomfortable in the hamper. My statue-like stiffness from fear was starting to ease, and it was becoming a huge ache on muscles that had been straining to keep form, and on bones that were subject to long periods of contact with the hard surface below me. Just what was going on? I fought my growing curiosity for another five gruelling minutes, but after so long, I couldn’t help it.

‘Just a peek,’ I reasoned. ‘I’ll lift the lid a crack and scope things out.’

Pressing gently against the towel-laden lid, I softly lifted it until I could see from an angle. Not an inch from the opening, two vacant sockets met my gaze. Not even the backlights illuminated the staring void, creating what seemed to be an eternal expanse within the costumed head. In a faint and rapidly dimming hope that it hadn’t seen me, I hastily lowered my hand, but a familiar metal one grasped the lid on its own, lifting it completely open. The character raised itself to standing again, leaning over me to cast an engulfing shadow as it began to reach down into the closet towards me.

I crouched as low as I could, shielding myself with my arms in a panic, only for nothing to happen at all. I peeked again, lowering my arms somewhat. But before I could process anything, the metal hand rested on my head, and gently tousled my hair. Bonnie gazed down, eye lights lit once more, and then stood tall, raising its arms victoriously. Unfortunately, both of which were too long, and made impact with the ceiling, causing dust to fall in clouds and showers onto the character.

“B-bonnie! What the heck!?” I vented stressfully, stepping out of the basket.

Bonnie looked shamefully at the paired dent and score in the ceiling, and bowed its head in regret.

“Well, y-yeah, there’s that, but… ugh! What was that?! I was gonna have a heart attack!”

Still bowing apologetically, Bonnie scratched its head. 

Why did it look so confused? Heck, I was confused. One moment it looked like it was going to pull me out and skewer me, and the next it was totally normal. Had I just been grossly misreading this?

“Seriously? You were acting all weird, like you were hunting me, or something! And then you waited forever when you opened the closet!” I huffed, fuming from the smouldering bitterness. “You seriously don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Bonnie shrugged, fixing its ashamed gaze on the floor.

I sighed, with much of my anger leaving with the breath. Bonnie was such a strange case. Being so advanced, it was sometimes hard to tell that it was an AI. It was bubbly and bright, clumsy and prideful, but so full of unknowns. For once, I seriously wondered why an AI of this grade was necessary to entertain children. If I wanted answers, however, I would not find them by asking the mute amnesiac. I watched conflicted, seeing Bonnie sulk over my explosion, which it didn’t seem to understand.

“Hey… sorry for, uh- blowing up at you.” I apologised, despising the thought of leaving the situation without making amends. “I just didn’t feel safe, so… please don’t do it again. I mean- if you can help it. Can you promise me?”

Bonnie tensed up, wearing a strange expression and meeting my gaze, remaining unreadable until it relaxed somewhat, and opened its arms up for a hug.

I accepted, thankful that this animatronic hated conflict as much as I did. After a surprisingly cathartic moment, Bonnie looked at me again, regaining some of its energy. It clearly didn’t want the game to end so soon, on such a sour note.

“Okay, okay- fine, then I guess I’m seeking this time,” I conceded.

Bonnie pumped its arms excitedly before thundering down the stairs with room-shaking vigour. I had to wince at the impacts made against the steps, as they were undoubtedly receiving a beating unlike anything they’ve ever suffered. I’d only seen a portion of the destructive abilities that this animatronic had, and I was already starting to foresee the wreckage it could cause if left to its own devices. I sighed. All I could do was shake my head and follow.

Bonnie bounced impatiently at the entrance, as if shaking the house to smithereens was a reasonable reaction to the absolute torture that is waiting. Shooting a weary glare its way did little to alleviate the tremoring, but arriving at its side after those clearly unbearable four seconds seemed to do the trick.

“If you keep that up, we’re gonna have to fish you out of the basement, and who knows what’s down there.” I warned, expressing my own impatience.

Bonnie considered this with a hint of embarrassment, as it appeared to share the undignified mental picture of it stuck in a hole of its own making.

“Alright, I’m gonna start counting, so you better get ready.” I asserted, tired of acting the parent.

I closed my eyes and began counting to twenty, because Bonnie sure didn’t give me any more than that. I found myself struggling to follow one number after the next in a proper rhythmic fashion as images from the past days surfaced. The eyes, the figure from my nightmare, and even Bonnie’s empty stare from mere minutes ago disturbed me. I tried to convince myself that everything was alright- after all, Bonnie was friendly and I was safe at home, but there were unanswered questions. No matter how I thought about it, something was off, and it all left me on-edge, wondering just what next was going to be thrown at me out of the blue. I hated it. If I wanted to get a grip I would have to get over my anxieties about the files, and just delve in.

“Ian?”

I snapped out of my daze, finding Dad suddenly before me.

“Oh, uh- hi Dad. When did you get home?” I greeted, blinking as I processed.

“A couple minutes ago. I called for you back in the garage, but it looks like you were on another planet.” Dad replied with a teasing lopsided grin.

“Ah, sorry! Do you need help with something?”

“Well, it sorted itself out, so not anymore. Your friend stopped by and helped me unload some things.”

I blinked some more. “Bonnie did?”

“Our guest did.” He paused, realising before clarifying with a knowing smirk. “Our human guest. C’mon. He’s waiting for you.”

Mind sufficiently muddled, I followed Dad into the garage despite the knowledge that I did not, in fact, have a friend, and whoever was in the garage currently was at best a stranger, and at worst, someone I really didn’t want to see. Not even beginning to fathom who it could be, I dumbfoundedly looked at the figure in our garage for at least some scrap of relief. 

Unfortunately I found none upon seeing the form of an unfamiliar boy who looked more like an actor filling the role of a casually-dressed teenage boy than someone you would actually share a class with.

“Ian, you remember Tanner.” Dad spoke more as a statement than a question, despite the fact that I very much so did not remember a ‘Tanner’.

“‘Sup.” Tanner waved, momentarily meeting my gaze before returning it to his phone.

Confused and aghast at somehow having more questions than answers after seeing this stranger(?), I very nearly gathered my wits to raise an objection to Dad, which was rather unceremoniously flattened.

“You two catch up. I just left something in the van, so I’ll be right back.” Dad asserted proudly, like a marriage counsellor confidently setting up his troubled clients on blind dates.

And thus, left with a stranger and net negative answers, I stalled for a moment as my reasoning filed its immediate resignation.

The stranger broke the silence, allowing me enough brain power to beg my reasoning to reconsider.

“You’ve sure got a lotta stuff in here. Your dad said you helped. Did ya really code all this?” Tanner asked.

“...Yeah.” I responded, my reasoning still weighing its options.

“Sick.” He approved, browsing around. “How many years did it take to do all this? There wasn’t half of this last time I was here.”

My reasoning finally caved and got back to work. “Okay- sorry, but who the heck are you?”

Tanner looked at me with an expression that matched mine rather flawlessly. From the van, a barely-stifled, sputtered guffaw sounded.

“Tanner?” He stated, shaken enough to sound somewhat unsure of it despite its factual nature.

I blinked. Once.

“Tanner… Ross?” He added.

Didn’t ring a bell.

“We hang out from time to time?”

Zip. I was genuinely starting to feel bad for him. I had to admit, though, he was starting to look familiar.

“We’ve known each other since Kindergarten??”

Somehow I felt as guilty as I felt insulted.

Tanner squeezed his eyes shut in thought before shrugging, bordering on exasperated. “We… we’re in Ms. Hawthorne’s history class together???”

“Pretty-Boy?” I asked, drawing the connection.

Distantly, the sound of dad’s laughter reached teakettle pitch, as we stared at each other appearing no less dumbfounded than before.

“Where did that nickname come from?” He inquired, solidly lost.

“Uuuuum… I……….. dunno!” I lied, knowing full-well that I made it up myself, and never told it to a soul until now.

Tanner snorted. “Whatever. You had me worried for a sec there that you really didn’t remember. Fu-, er- crap, man, you could’a just told me you forgot my name.”

I averted my gaze, laughing nervously. “Haha, right.”

Finally, it officially hit me; Pretty-Boy was in my house.  

“So, uh- what… brings you here… after so long,” I asked, clumsily disguising my discomfort with pathetically-trained smalltalk as I struggled to recall exactly when I would’ve invited this particular douchebag to my house.

It was Tanner’s turn to avert his gaze. “Well, can’t I just come over to catch up?” He lied. Somehow it was more comforting knowing that he was just as off-the-ball as I was.

With how awkward it was after he thought I had just forgotten his name, I really didn’t want to pretend to catch up.

“I mean- sure, but do you wanna like… do something?” I asked, internally begging he take the bait.

“I have a suggestion,” Dad chimed in, suddenly deciding to stop lurking. “Why don’t you two fix something together? We have no shortage of old projects lying around, so how about you find a blueprint for something that catches your eyes, and see if you can’t get it working again?”

Before I could object to the obviously self-indulgent proposition, Tanner was already hooked.

“Woah, for real?”

Dad beamed. “Yup. Ask Ian if you need help deciding. He knows the state of the things here as well as I do.”

And with that, Dad pointed Tanner in the office’s direction, and I was whisked begrudgingly along. Immediately after leaving the garage, I realised that I had forgotten just how much this guy talked. The topic had something to do with his social circle, which I knew nothing of, and cared far less about, but that sure didn’t stop him from expanding upon it in meaningless detail. The one assurance I got out of it was that he was at least consistent, and not two-faced, or anything. 

We crossed through into the office, as Tanner continued to regale me with a tale concerning his friend’s brother’s ex, and try my patience doubly so. At some point, I succeeded in zoning him out, busying myself with sorting through the blueprints in the open filing cabinet drawer for something that could be fixed quickly so he could be out of my hair already. I was so annoyed- why this guy? Why now? Why the heck did he pretend to know me, when it was obvious there was nothing between us, and that was being generous. In fact, I was fuming internally so much that I almost didn’t hear him trail off. He had actually stopped talking. Somehow that was concerning – his regretful expression even more so.

“Hey, Ian.”

“Uh- what?”

“Sorry for… what happened Friday.”

I blinked. “Uh, whadda ya mean?”

“Mitch was being a creep,” he stated, fidgeting and avoiding my gaze. “It was kinda a wake-up call. I thought for a real long time that you were just busy at home with your work and all, and didn’t have time to hang out like we used to, but… Haaaa. Yeah, I wouldn’t want to hang out with me if that guy was a part of the f*****g deal.”

I was blown away. This idiot was somehow nice enough to apologise, but far too dense to really know what for.

Tanner continued, this time, looking at me straight. “So, I’m sorry. I chose a bad crowd, and I didn’t realise that you knew better than me.” 

He turned and bent down to fish a blueprint out of the filing cabinet (despite the fact I had already picked one out), and closed the drawer. Holding out his choice to me, he steeled himself despite his obvious nerves and embarrassment.

“Uh- so how about… ugh, f*** it. Are we cool?”

I had so much to say; the misconception about our history, the misunderstanding with why I avoided him, the apology from way out of left field- all very important things I wanted to address. Too bad I was too busy gawking at the pair of tattered plush feet peeking out from under the curtain that were just revealed by the closed drawer. And unfortunately, Tanner noticed my expression, and also saw the hider I had accidentally abandoned mid-game.

“The f*** is that?” He remarked, switching gears faster than a high-performance car as he unhesitatingly approached and moved aside the curtain.

For the split second before the fallout, as I saw the two staring at one another before they could even register, I could only plainly think to myself, ‘uh oh’.

Chapter Text

Time was only frozen for a moment. The sight of Tanner beginning to register the macabre character before him and Bonnie seeming rather confused as of who this person was, frightened at the realisation that he is not supposed to be seen by others would likely place high on a list of ‘top ten pictures taken moments before disaster’.

Bonnie let out a mangled yelp, which understandably sounded more like a crazed scream. Tanner, on the other hand, wasted no time snapping his head towards me with dinner-plate-wide eyes as he turned towards the door.

“F*****g run!” 

Unfortunately, just as I was able to break past the mental wall of ‘this is bad’, Tanner was already grabbing my arm and yanking me out the office door. Worse yet, I was starting to foresee precisely how wrong this was going to go if Tanner was to leave the house and alert people. 

“Tanner, wait!” I called, stumbling along as he maintained the death-grip on my forearm.

Heedless, he continued to drag me along at a dangerous pace. Maintaining my footing and evading corners and obstacles took the entirety of my concentration, making explanation rather impossible unless I wanted to pay for it with a concussion.

Despite my best efforts, Tanner was far stronger than I, and as a consequence, I could do little more than slow his pace. Tanner burst through the front door, wasting no time on the steps and leaping straight to the pavement. Finally, I was able to break free purely out of the need to avoid breaking a bone from following his example.

“Hurry the f**k up!” Tanner yelled over his shoulder.

I had his attention. I needed to convince him now before things got complicated. “No, wait- listen to me! Everything is-”

“What’s going on? Is anyone hurt?” Dad questioned as he emerged from the garage.

I didn’t even have time to catch my breath before Tanner began.

“Holy s**t, Mr. Masters- there’s this f*****g…. thing in your office! I-it’s huge, and-”

“It’s Bonnie, Dad.” I interrupted. “It’s fine, it just scared him by accident.”

“Wait- ‘Bonnie’? That f*****g nightmare incarnate is an animatronic? Why the hell was it hiding?”

“Uhhhh- h-hide and seek?” I abashedly admitted.

Dad had noticeably relaxed, and was even starting to chuckle again. “I see now. Sorry, Tanner- that must’ve been a real scare. Bonnie is the animatronic we’re working on for the summer – remember how I told you we had a new project?”

“Y-yeah, that’s just… wait- where’d you get that Bonnie from?” Tanner inquired.

“Well, the Freddy’s downtown is closing and Bonnie wasn’t working, so they put it up for sale in a private auction and I bought it. I’m actually pretty proud of myself for this find – I have a lot of good memories from that place.” Dad smiled wistfully, awash with nostalgia. 

“Huh. Small world. I was pretty pi- uh- peeved when my dad sold ‘im off, but I’m starting to see why he did.” Tanner shivered.

“Your dad owns the Freddy’s?” I asked, somewhat dumbfounded. 

“Co-owner. It was pretty cool when I was younger, being able to go for free and all, but I haven’t been for a couple years. We went once for my birthday, remember?”

“Uh, well-”

“Woah, small world indeed!” Dad interrupted again, this time with a much needed save. “Maybe you two could go sometime for old times’ sake?”

Of course, just as I was feeling grateful, he just had to make things difficult again. Dad was never one to miss an opportunity to try and bring people together.

“Eh, why not.” Tanner shrugged, apparently sharing that quality. “I’ll ask my dad; I should be able to get us some free passes.”

Apparently left out of this discussion, I gave Dad the exasperated look that translated to, ‘please stop’. He returned my look with his amused, not-quite-sorry expression, which I understood as, ‘okay, I’ll stop’.

“Well,” Dad began, changing the topic begrudgingly. “I’m glad we sorted that out! Do you wanna go meet your old pal, then?”

“Uh- I mean, is it… safe? Is it working right?”

“Bonnie’s harmless.” I reassured. “Spooky as all get out, but it couldn’t hurt anything if it tried.”

With both of our affirmations and the pressure of our assurances, Tanner relented and meekly followed me back inside to Dad’s office. There, peeking out from behind the curtain, Bonnie stood, retreating somewhat upon seeing Tanner.

“Hey Bonnie, it’s okay. Tanner’s friendly, he just got a little freaked out. Can you come out?”

Bonnie’s voice box squawked out an uncertain note as it remained partly obscured. Startled by the noise, Tanner flinched.

“C’mon, please don’t hide.” I soothed. 

I was worried enough that Tanner would talk about Bonnie to other people; I certainly didn’t want him telling someone like his dad a twisted version about how he was almost attacked by it. I decided, partly out of petty revenge, to make a concession for Tanner.

“Tanner’s here to apologise. Are you sure you don’t want to make a new friend?”

Bonnie perked up at that. Tanner, on the other hand, looked quite lost.

“Apologise for what?” Tanner whispered.

“Dude, Bonnie’s insecure about its appearance. You took one look at it and screamed.” I replied in kind.

Suddenly ashamed, Tanner mouthed an, ‘oh’. Meanwhile, encouraged by my words, Bonnie stepped out from behind the curtain and approached, standing awkwardly and wringing its bladed stump.

“F**k, I forgot Bonnie was such a big b*****d,” Tanner breathed out to no one in particular.

Bonnie reacted to the profanity by attempting to cover its ears, emitting a displeased grunt.

“Uh, I don’t think Bonnie’s used to that kind of language.” I translated.

“Oh, f**k- sorry.”

I barely managed to stifle a guffaw, while Bonnie subtly moved its head in a manner that led me to believe it was trying to roll its nonexistent eyes.

“ Anyways, Bonnie, this is Tanner. And Tanner, I recall that you have something to say to Bonnie.”

Tanner fidgeted ashamedly. “Uh, so like- I’m sorry for… freaking out. It kinda felt like a scene straight outta a horror movie, and I didn’t wanna be, like, the first one dead.”

I gave Tanner a look to get him back on track.

“I mean- I overreacted. I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

Bonnie assessed him with a mildly bitter look, before glancing towards me for a moment and relenting.

“Soooo, we’re good, then?” Tanner asked, offering his left for a fist bump.

Having noticeably loosened up, Bonnie moved to accept, opting to use its right so as to not impale his hand, much to Tanner’s sudden relief.

With some slight awkwardness from being forced to switch to his non-dominant hand, Tanner began taking in the damage that had Bonnie in such a horrifying state, glancing between the face, arm and tears across the body.

“What happened to you, Bonnie? I don’t remember any of this from when I was a kid.”

Bonnie shrugged, turning towards me for help with its response.

“Darn, really? I was hoping you knew.” I replied. “Did they just… take it out of service one day?”

Tanner shrugged. “Beats me. I used to go every couple days for the arcade, so something obviously happened between the last time I saw it there and when I didn’t see it anymore, but I never heard what. The employees just gave the same fff- uh, fake excuse whenever I asked.”

“What about your dad? Did he say anything?”

“Well, he was talkin’ about the repairs on the phone one day, but I didn’t ask. I could prolly see what he knows, though.” After staring at Bonnie while longer, Tanner seemed to have an idea. “Hey, what if we worked on Bonnie instead?”

“Uh- well, I dunno – it isn’t going to be like fixing an RC car. It’s serious stuff.” I responded hesitantly.

“I’m handy,” he insisted proudly. “I work on cars back at home all the time- an animatronic can’t be that different.”

Bonnie stared at me, empty eye sockets brimming with anticipation.

“I mean… I’ll ask Dad and see what he says.” 

“Sick, let’s go!” Tanner grinned, racing ahead.

And with that, we were on the move again, traversing the short distance between the office and the garage with Bonnie in tow

I watched my footsteps, processing all of the confusion of the day. Despite years of mild to moderate dislike for him, today had cemented solid evidence in favour of his case; his sincerity—particularly his apology—had convinced me he felt remorse for how things had gone between us, and, while unnecessary, his dedicated effort to save me from ‘the monster’ had been a moment of pure, unguarded goodwill. It was just… really fast. Being the adult thing to do, I knew I had to move on, but how? Even thinking of his face, all I saw was him and those goons being loud, obnoxious and apathetic towards the discomfort they created. How would this change school? Would those goons bother me even more? Would we pretend nothing happened? Or would we be suddenly all buddy-buddy for everyone to see? What if-

A sharp impact, paired with a jarring pain in my forehead and a significant bonk told me that I’d missed the doorway by a good few inches. Taking a half-step back, I glared at the door frame as though it bore the fault for my absentmindedness. Bonnie’s cold, heavy metal palm rested on my shoulder as the animatronic leaned into view, cocking its head to query my condition.

Its show of sympathy and concern warmed my heart, melting away the stress and anxiety. Seeing this, I couldn’t believe I’d had doubts about Bonnie during the game. Sure it was scary, but maybe, just like how I’d overthought hide ‘n seek, it was all in my head?

“Thanks, Bonnie. I’m okay now.” I patted the hand as reassurance.

Eyes firmly focused forward, I stepped into the garage.

Dad was hard at work, sorting and putting away the unloaded boxes, while Tanner assisted him by holding a repurposed delivery package that jangled when he adjusted his grip.

“Hey buddy- so Tanner and Bonnie made up, I hear?” Dad called over his shoulder, pushing some boxes into place on a shelf.

“Yup. All good now.” I affirmed. “But that reminds me – Tanner, how did you and Bonnie get along back then?”

“I mean- he sang on stage with the rest of ‘em, had a couple routines, and every now and again, someone would have ‘im come down to congratulate them on a happy birthday, or whatever. I never figured an animatronic ever did much else, so I can’t say we actually talked. ”

Bonnie croaked out a low, buzzing noise, disappointed at the dead end.

“How about your project? Did you guys decide?” Dad redirected.

“Uh, well- we were thinking-” I began noncommittally.

“We’d like your permission to work on Bonnie.” Tanner proposed, asserting where I faltered.

“Oh?” Dad brightened, but tempered his excitement. “That’s wonderful, but I think you need to ask someone else for permission.” He stated, gesturing to Bonnie. “This old stock I bought has the parts for a new arm that you kids can assemble, but it requires some wiring work, so…”

Oh. This was going to be a harder sell for the animatronic than I’d ever considered it’d be for Dad. However, this was going to be a crucial part of any future repairs we would do on Bonnie – we couldn’t exactly leave it on. I looked at the large character, preparing to break the news as gently as possible.

“So… Bonnie- we can put a new arm on you, but…”

Bonnie and Tanner shared a look of confusion for opposite reasons.

“...But we’ll have to turn you off.”

Bonnie shrank, hunching its shoulders in apprehension at the mere mention of it. Meanwhile, Tanner only looked more lost.

“Only for a little bit!” I amended. “We can assemble the arm itself first, and then switch you off just for the wiring.”

Gripping its stump tightly, Bonnie focused on the ground.

“What’s goin’ on?” Tanner whispered.

“Bonnie freaks out when you turn it back on. Something about being turned off messes with its emoting processes.”

“Ah.” Tanner nodded, pretending about as much as I was to understand what was going on.

Dad approached, hoping to resolve the fearful indecision.

“Bonnie- I understand that this is difficult for you. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but we need to switch you off from time to time if you want to be back in order. We’ll resolve it as quickly as we can – I promise. You trust me to do that, right?” Dad assured with the trademarked tender authoritativeness fathers have.

Hesitating a moment, Bonnie slowly eased its grip on the stump, examining its cruel, bladed edge with disdain. It nodded weakly.

Dad patted its broad back, smiling sympathetically.

“Then let’s get started.”

. . .

Tanner and I stood side-by-side before the kitchen counter that served as the garage’s workbench as we laboured away, assembling individual finger segments while Dad worked on dinner, taking Bonnie with him to help keep its mind off the stressful subject. The work wound up being remarkably simple after learning the process and falling into a proper rhythm. I really had to commend the manufacturer for the simple, yet sophisticated design; too bad that the company apparently went under decades ago – ‘AR’, whatever that stood for, really seemed to have their work down to a science.

“Hey- Ian?” Tanner called after screwing a part on.

“What’s up?”

“Has… Bonnie always been like that?”

“Like what?”

“Eh- I dunno how the hell I can describe it…” He muttered, grabbing a new set of parts. “Lifelike, I guess?”

“I mean- yeah. I’ve seen inside it, and it’s sophisticated stuff. Sure, I cleaned up in there before we got it working, but everything in there now was there when we got it. Why, did you remember something?”

“Kinda,” Tanner frowned in his bifurcated concentration. “It’s just that… it always felt like it was there, but now it feels more like it’s ‘there’ there. Ya feel me?”

“No,” I admitted. “Not really.”

“F*****g…” He focused, snapping his fingers. “Like it’s more aware- clearer.”

“Like it got an update, or something? I guess that makes sense – that hard drive is late 90’s tech at earliest.” I wondered, furrowing my brow.

“Hell if I know. All I’m saying is I thought it was really… real back there- like it was actually feeling, ya know?”

“I know, right?” I enthused. “The code is all super impressive- way before its time. Honestly, I could spend hours learning from it if I could understand it all.”

Culling my excitement, memories of that darn video clip resurfaced. I wished I could just forget about it, but it was a mystery- if I left it, it would eat at me forever. Having subdued, but not conquered my fear of it, I knew I would have to brave it again if I wanted any more clues as to precisely what the heck it was.

“Something wrong, man?” Tanner prodded, having read my sudden discomfort.

“No, I just remembered I have a chore I need to do later.” 

Ultimately, we’d spent a little over three hours assembling the arm, and our hard work was rewarded with steak, potatoes and steamed veggies- a sure sign that Dad agreed with that sentiment. It had been a very long time since it had been more than the two of us at the dinner table; I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but Dad enjoyed the company. But soon, we’d had our fill and talked long enough – it was time to stop stalling.

Once again, we congregated in the garage, where Dad appraised our work. Satisfied, proud, and none-too-subtly pleased with the success of his plan, he made double-sure to heap on the praise for our team effort.

“Okay- looks great! You kids have a talent for this, y’know?”

I tried not to show my own satisfaction on my face. On my right, Tanner straightened his back, glowing with pride. Bonnie peeked over Dad’s shoulder, enraptured by the shiny, new arm he held.

“Be careful with putting things on too tight,” Dad explained as he set it down on the counter to make adjustments. “Joints and bolts can snap, or get stuck. I know you kids are getting older and you’re happy to prove just how strong you’re getting, but it’s just a good precaution.”

“That’s… that’s my bad, Mr. Masters.” Tanner admitted, shrinking back a little.

“No harm done,” Dad patted his shoulder, grinning. “Everyone has to learn, and an expert is never done. When you’re working, as long as you’ve learned how to do it better next time, I think that’s a win.”

Tanner nodded after some hesitation, avoiding Dad’s eyes.

After a few minutes of tweaking, Dad was done.

“There we go. This should be perfect – I hope you guys are proud.” He approved. “Now all that’s left is to mount it and attach the wires.”

Our eyes turned to Bonnie, who hadn’t looked away from the arm.

“You ready, Bonnie?” I asked gently.

Its gaze flickered between me and the floor, assailed by the ugly chimaera of fear and apprehension.

I had always been the kind to attribute emotion to unfeeling things, making it hard to throw away old robotics projects, or pick the mean option in games. But with Bonnie, which was able to display such a rich and accurate range of emotion, it was outright impossible not to sympathise with it.

“Hey-” I called, approaching. “I know it’s scary, but no matter what happens, I’ll be right here. Okay?”

I grabbed Bonnie’s hand, managing to just barely hold onto two of its digits.

This time, it met my gaze continuously for several seconds, before turning and finding its reflection once more in the window darkened from the spring evening. Then, it looked back at me and returned the gesture, holding mine with as much fear as it did with trust. Bonnie nodded.

“Alrighty then, big guy,” Dad began, taking his position behind Bonnie. “This’ll be over before you know it.”

He flicked the switch, and immediately, the fear, the worry, dread and hope vanished like shadow before light. Bonnie’s stance slackened along with its grip, and all signs of life were gone. With how used to its constant state of activity I’d become, I came to realise just how wrong it felt to see Bonnie this way – and the promise of its distress afterwards made it all-the-more gut wrenching.

Nevertheless, we set off to work, with Tanner and I supporting Dad with his needed tools, screws, washers and nuts. I felt guilty about letting go of Bonnie’s hand, but I rationalised that it might be more at ease if it spent less time powered off.

We made quick work of the mounting process, and soon my usefulness wore off. With Dad fully equipped with his needed tools, and the wiring job itself requiring a generous two-and-a-half hands, I found myself out of a job and occupied sheerly with observation duty.

Despite Bonnie’s mute nature, it felt a whole lot quieter with it off. Even with Dad and Tanner’s intermittent chatter, the overall volume in the garage struck me as strangely low. It reminded me just how horribly quiet this house was; it was too big for the two of us – and no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that I was alright with that, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like to have a brother- or a sister? Both? Or…

Or…

I didn’t remember much about how it happened. I was little. It was dark, and I was half asleep- nodding off as she took me on a ‘little trip’. I sat in my booster seat with my weary head lolling around. The seatbelt cut into the side of my neck, sawing back and forth from my inability to sit up properly. Passing street signs reflected powerful high beams and plunged them into my bleary eyes with stabbing pain. It was the worst. Why did we have to leave so early? Where were we going? I just wanted to crawl back in bed. I whined and pleaded for us to turn back around, but she wouldn’t have any of it. She was agitated, and despite trying to soothe me, her words were terse and strained. It was all too much for such a young child, so I cried. In spite of her hushing, simple, whimpering wails filled the space until it was all I heard.

Not unlike what I was hearing. A voice alien to my memory persisted in its soft, yet horrible expression of anguish, whispering its shuddering sobs from an unseen place. Pulled back to the present, my eyes darted around the room, searching for the source. The noise grew, echoing off the walls in a cacophony of agony, drawing nearer and nearer-

The lights flickered and died. Swallowed by darkness, I tried to scream – but two small, frigid hands wrapped themselves around my mouth, sealing it shut with a force that their size couldn’t possibly permit. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream, or even breathe- I was trapped. A cold, quaking breath swept across my right ear, seeming to drain all heat from my body.

“6 O’clock,” it rasped in a tortured sigh, “the red door in the alley. Your feet will lead you.”

“And there we… go!” Dad announced as the light returned.

As soon as it activated, Bonnie immediately wrapped its arms around me in a hug, heaving out mic-peaked static like breaths.

Taking a moment myself, I reoriented and calmed my own breathing, finding myself safe. The hands were gone. Looking around, Dad and Tanner’s calm, but concerned demeanour told me that they hadn’t experienced what I had. Was I crazy? Did I have some kind of hallucination? I must’ve still been overtired. I’d been expending myself a lot lately, after all. But… did those words mean anything? Who—or what— was that? I shuddered. I didn’t want to know.

I returned the hug. Was this ever going to end? This weekend had been some of the most terrifying days of my life – had I not suffered enough?

Burying my face in the lumpy plush material, I took one more stabilising breath, still smelling the lingering remains of vinegar and lavender. Reason insisted with 99% certainty that this was all coincidence- that all of this had an explanation, even if I didn’t know the whole of it. The other 1%, supported by the horror guru part of me, wondered if—and how—it could all be connected.

I frowned against Bonnie’s plush stomach. I knew that if I was going to put the matter to rest, I would have to bite the bullet and go back to where it all started.