Chapter Text
The phone guy stumbled backwards as the party of four stood around him. No anger or resentment, just concern and traces of pity. Fritz remained awkwardly standing, staring at the man on the floor. He was his manager temporarily, before he died and became a phone guy. He was very harsh, cold and dedicated to the company. Working under him was much worse than the previous boss, the black-headed phone guy. Sure he was annoying, but he meant well. This guy was just a complete and utter bitch. A coward. This made him hate the fact that he felt a twinge of recognition every time he saw him at work. Despite how creepy this sounds, he still couldn't help but recognise small details. Most specifically his skin and build. Though he often shrugged this off as a response to his grief at the time.
"S-so! You've gotten what you want! Just.. Just get it over with!" The man stuttered, shielding his face with his hands. The group exchanged glances and kept silent.
"Wait.. what are you waiting for?" He eased slightly but the tension was still thick enough to suffocate any living person.
"We aren't here to smash your head in, you dumb phone head!" Dave finally dead-panned. This saved the others from having to have the first words.
"Scott..." Jack began, "My brother, Peter, told me about you.."
Peter Kennedy? Fritz vaguely recognised the name. From what he could remember, he was another suit operator at the location he moved to. They got along briefly, though Fritz died before they could truly become friends. Did this phone guy screw over more people than he thought? Man this guy sucks.
"He got caught in a springlock accident, and you sent him to the Factory." It was genuinely terrifying how calm Jack could remain, talking about the death of his own brother. In the little time he knew him, he supposed it made sense.
"Oh, he told you that?" He guiltily stared down at the floor, refusing eye contact.
"I know what you did to him sir," Jack continued, "I know where phone guys come from - ALL phone guys." The orange man took a small glance over at Fritz, who's heavy rotary head was fixed on the phone man in front of them. He couldn't stop staring, trying to find something that wasn't there. Despite his complete hatred for the man, he couldn't help but feel a small sense of pity. He was an older model - chances are he wouldn't be able to remember a thing of his past life. Luckily for Fritz, he had family and friends who took him in and helped him recover his forgotten past. He had to relive the grief of losing... him. The memories of their time together came before those of him being gone. Fritz couldn't wish the pain of having your entire identity proven to be a lie on anybody, not even that hollow, selfish and terrible excuse of a boss.
"I know where you come from, too." The man continued to talk, the more he did so the more the phone manager shifted as he grew even more uncomfortable, "you were one of the first."
"Employee-" The phone man stammered, "please- don't." He pleaded, though no matter how much he tried to deny him, Jack kept persisting. He would cut the man off at each plea, begging him to remember something, anything.
"Your name isn't really Scott. Don't you remember your own name?"
"We want to help you, Scott!"
"We can put you back together!"
"It's not too late!"
Throughout listening to these words, the phone man couldn't help but deny. His mind had been completely overwhelmed with guilt as the people he had screwed over most towered over him. He insisted that he was irredeemable - defective and broken; that there was no good in him whatsoever. Even Fritz took a moment to speak.
"Look, man, we're trying to do you a favour." He tried to add.
"What- how is this good for anybody? You - you should just leave me alone!" Scott turned his head to look at Fritz. He judged that if phone guys could cry, he would be in tears, sobbing and choking on every single word.
"No matter how much you've screwed up, you should be given a second chance. Maybe.. just maybe, you found yourself here so you can redeem yourself." Fritz knew that this wasn't how the flip side worked, though thought this superstitious approach could help soothe the manager. He knelt beside the man and slowly, out of pure instinct, took Scott's hand into his own. The other man flinched slightly, though didn't pull away. Fritz took the moment to absorb the feeling of familiarity which overtook him as he gently squeezed the man's hand, reassuring him. Scott slowly nodded, still shaking a little, though just a little bit calmer than before.
Jack took this as the perfect opportunity to interject, "I just need for you to remember. REMEMBER." He emphasised the last word.
As he did so, the group felt the world around them shift, plunging them into a temporary darkness. Before they could register what was happening, a new setting was laid out before them. One that Fritz knew all too well.
A familiar intoxicatingly warm air, carrying the scent of mouldy pizza and sweat. Tacky wall decorations which had been lazily sellotaped to the walls in an attempt at making the place seem kid-friendly, along with several crudely drawn pictures from children. The walls themselves were a vacant grey colour, and the floors checkered white and black. They were in a Fazbender's location.
"Location 14." Fritz muttered to himself as he examined the area. Jack glanced at him, though didn't pay much attention to it. The group's focus had been shifted onto a man who had just walked around the corner and into the corridor they had been placed into. An average height man of a smaller build from Fritz. He had short but fluffy hair and the very beginnings of a beard on his face. His skin was of a tanned colour, catching the light beautifully. His deep brown eyes also captured the dim lighting of the pizzaria.
The more Fritz stared at him, the deeper his heart dropped in his chest. He didn't know what to do, how to react. He could have sworn his hands were shaking as his mind raced with questions and ideas. Frantically, he tried to focus on anything else in the corridor, but he failed in every attempt. It was like the very room was forcefully dragging everybody's attention to the employee in front of them. Please god, don't make it be him.
"Okay, let's recap," the man spoke to himself, "5pm, gotta do some last minute maintenance on the springlock suits. Then get home. Then at 6pm, I get to go on a date with Fritz." At the mention of Fritz, the employee's face lit up, a low shade of red spread across his face. He smiled to himself as he placed a hand on the door handle.
Wait, door handle? As if my magic, the location shifted to present a pair of bland, grey doors. Fritz instantly recognised them as the doors to the safe room. The bleeding out room. The kiddie Murder room. The room had many names.
Carefully, the employee pushed down on the handle, allowing himself in. Once again, the room shifted to show the dark, dingy and decrepit interior. It was only a small concrete room with two springlock suits inside. A golden foxy and a golden bonnie. Few locations had the foxy suit, but nearly every location had that damned rabbit. It likely made Dave's job easier - most locations probably had the rabbit suit by his own request.
Stood in the middle of the room was a large figure, facing directly at the employee. The room obscured a lot of the man, only letting them see an obscured magenta silhouette of a man, white piercing eyes staring into his soul, accompanied with a wide, shit-eating grin. Blood had been splattered all over the room, sloppily and immaturely. There was even some on the ceiling. The victim must have put up a struggle, Fritz assumed. The employee stared at the scene in front of him, completely frozen with fear. Poor man.
"Henry?" The employee's voice echoed off of the walls. His American accent was apparent, and his tone was what Fritz remembered from all those years ago. Fritz's heart had sunk so low he felt it must have fallen out by now. The others hadn't noticed his distress. Or maybe they had, but he was far too focussed on the scene in front of him to pay attention.
"Steven." The low, ominous and threatening voice of Henry replied, confirming Fritz's frantic thoughts. Shit. So it was Steven- his Steven.
"What the- oh- oh god! Wh-what have you done?" He stammered, clinging onto the door to keep himself in reality. The smell of iron his him like a tidal wave. Behind Henry, him and Fritz spotted the corpse of a small child. A young girl who couldn't be above the age of 10. She had a brightly coloured yellow dress on and ginger hair pulled into a ponytail. Instead of being lively and excited, she lay dead in a pool of her own blood, face down and absolutely drenched. It was a horrific site.
"Steven." Henry repeated.
"So it was you. Those five kids over in Utah-"
"Step aside." The man commanded, still speaking in his low, hypnotic tone. He took a step forward, allowing the pool of blood around him to be disturbed as he moved. Steven choked out a sound of complete and utter disbelief, outstretching his arms so that he blocked the exit. Fritz watched in absolute horror. He knew Steven could be stubborn, but not to such an extent.
"Excuse me? You killed customers during peak business hours!" He eventually forced out, rather sternly. However, his voice quivered, betraying his false confidence. Henry still wore that disturbing smile, completely unfazed.
"Step. Aside." He demanded slowly.
"Like- like hell!" Steven kept himself at that position, shaking as he held himself between Henry and the exit.
"Then you really are an idiot." Henry remarked. Within seconds, he had pulled something from behind him, something sharp. A large kitchen knife. He sliced Steven in the stomach with it, causing the employee to stumble backwards. He lost his balance and fell, bashing his head against the cold, hard floor of the pizzeria.
In that instant, the surrounding area had once again been plunged into a void-like darkness. Fritz prayed for it to be over. He hadn't realised that he'd edged back several steps, possibly in an attempt to escape. He loved Steven more than he loved himself. The last thing he ever wanted to see was his lover's death.
He didn't know what happened to Steven. No matter how much he searched for an answer, he could never find one. Despite being desperate for answers, he wasn’t prepared for the horror that the answer could create.
“Hey, man, you okay?” Fritz was ripped from his thoughts when he heard Dave’s voice penetrate them. For the first time, he shifted his focus to the group. They were all staring at him, maybe expecting some sort of explanation. As much as he tried to speak, the words died in his throat. All he could do was point in front of them.
The room had shifted to show the main stage, a single bear suit perched in the middle. Henry came into view, dragging the unconscious, bleeding body of Steven over to the suit. Though they didn’t see what happened, they could only assume that he had been forced into the animatronic shell.
Fritz felt sick to his stomach when the next scene was the same room but during the day. The bear was still there, motionless, despite the children running about. The tables were cluttered with trash and food left by them. It appeared that the dining room was just as he remembered it.
Even the irritating manager was there, stood with his back as straight as a pillar. So professional and businesslike in such a hell scape. Fritz always wondered why the factory produced phone guys to be so stiff and boring in a children’s paradise. Maybe so parents can point at them and tell their children that if they weren’t good, they’d look like that. The man with the black rotary head turned to face the front door as it swung open, violently thrashing into the wall. A man walked through, disheveled and skeptical.
Dark red hair, green eyes, light skin and a tall, larger build? That was Fritz. Well, human Fritz. Normal, alive Fritz. He looked to be panicked, out of breath and sweating profusely.
“Where is he?” He threw himself over to Cawthon, grabbing the man by both shoulders, “where’s Steven? I was mean to meet him last night but-“
“Take your hands off my employee.” That familiar voice commanded. Henry had appeared behind the manager, staring threateningly over his shoulder. Unwillingly, Fritz did as he was told.
“No but seriously- he was supposed to meet me last night! And his roommate told me he never came home! And- and I’m so worried, please, please tell me he’s safe,” he pleaded, instead gripping onto the ends of his shirt. Steadily, he tried catching his breath, slowing each intake of air to calm himself - to give him something to focus on.
Mr Cawthon watched the breakdown, his mind wandering a little to a moment he was told to forget. He hated how desperate people were for closure. One woman even mistook him for her own son. The lengths people would go to just for personal comfort perplexed him.
“Oh, I’m sorry to say that he disappeared last night,” Henry spoke slowly. As Fritz (the phone man) watched the scene play out, he only then noticed that the magenta man’s voice had an underlying tone. One that sounded like he was taunting him. The employee in front of them stared in disbelief, and before they could witness a reaction, the world, once again, became a void.
“Fritz- was that you?” Jack questioned bluntly.
“I think.. Yeah.. that’s me.” Fritz replied, finally taking a moment to look at the rest of the group. Jack wore a look of pity, trying to sympathise with the situation at hand. Fritz also assumed he was trying to absorb as much information as he could, so that he could use it against Scott after.
Dave seemed to be zoned out, or maybe deep in focus. His face had a disturbed expression, his eyes wide and and mouth slightly agape. Fritz thought he’d have been bored out of his mind. Wasn’t this his every day business? Wasn’t he Henry’s partner in crime?
Dee hadn’t been very vocal during the situation, though Fritz didn’t expect anything different. He couldn’t see an expression past her puppet mask, though assumed that she must have been at least a little uncomfortable. She may have been through a lot, but she was still just a child.
Once the group refocused, their attention shifted to the room, which once again reformed into the exact same location. The lights had been shut off, nobody to hear as the bear suit’s springlock system failed. Within moments, blood began pouring out of the joints of the robot with a ear splitting snap. Steven tried to scream, but the locks had already severed his vocal cords, causing the attempt to come up in an aggressive, terrified gargle.
As fast as it had happened, the scene once again faded to black. There were no words to describe the amount of mental anguish Fritz was experiencing. The information was just too much for him to handle.
“It’s the joy of creation, employee.” A familiar robotic voice echoed in the dark. A reminder of why they were all there in the first place.
The joy of creation.