Work Text:
The festively decorated daycare was cloaked in darkness. Your flashlight penetrating the thickness of it, sending a beam of light towards the desk.
The desk was not saved from the winter themed fever that had taken over the colourful playroom. Wreaths evenly spread around the crescent shape, unlit lights hidden in the green. Long red ribbons covered one side, blue on the other. A menorah with fake candles sat adjutant to a yule log beside the computer. It looked like the holiday season had vomited its joy over it.
Meandering over to the desk you slid into the seat. The uncomfortably worn cushion had you shifting, trying in vain to find a position that wouldn’t cause your back to ache later.
Your coworkers had put in the demand for new chairs. However Fazco was a cheap company, who would rather bet their employees happiness for a fat stack to put in their pockets rather than give an ounce of empathy.
You sighed, head resting in your hands.
Your eyes narrowed through the darkness, pinpointing the shadowy shape of a new and large Christmas tree. That green plastic could have been several nice chairs. You grit your teeth, finger typing on the keyboard with sizzling frustration.
The loading screen illuminates the sleepy darkness of the daycare. Sun and moon symbols circling each other around the Fazco brand name. It was a nice touch, adding flare to a normally boring thing. Unfortunately it was still a loading screen, the pretty touches did little to distract from that.
Your face slid down into your palms, a frustrated groan leaving you.
Despite Fazco being a robotics company, their computers functioned worse than their 90’s counter part. It would be quicker to build one from scratch than wait for the spinning symbols to stop.
Your eyes glued onto the moon symbol, following the sun around and around.
Rubbing your arm you glance around the dark, neck prickled with unease.
Moon typically stayed away from you, doing his work as security. You didn’t mind at all, having heard the complaints and rumours about him; he had made kids cry, causing them to weep and scream instead of sleep. He nearly broke one of their arms after they refused to fall asleep.
That was enough of a reason for you to avoid the nighttime robot.
Occasionally during the nightshift you’d hear the jingle of bells, announcing his return to the colourful jungle gym. You made sure to stay in your seat, clenching your mouse.
Thankfully it seemed Moon had yet to make his rounds for the night, leaving you in silent bliss. Bliss that was forgotten when you looked back to the screen.
You had to input information for the dayshift tomorrow: the planned activities, children’s profiles needed updates, and so much more had to be done on the computer.
If it ever loaded.
Dropping one hand down to the desk, you picked up a pen from its holder. Tapping it against your chin as you stare at the screen, a sense of dreadful boredom washes over you.
Everything else in the daycare was taken care of by the daycare attendant, leaving you to sit, watching the screen with less enthusiasm than someone watching paint dry.
A yawn broke free from your lips, causing you to blink the tiredness away.
You had yet to adjust to working the nightshift. Trying to sleep through the day was difficult, your brain refusing to allow rest. It was plagued with a million worries: what were your friends doing? Did they care you weren’t with them? Did you leave the oven on? Was the faint tapping sound the leaky tap or the return of the woodpecker, who had a fierce determination to break through your wall to take your home hostage? Would the maddening bird finally break through with you unaware?
With the upcoming holiday these thoughts had worsened. Now you lay in anxious awakeness, agonizing over what gifts to get people and parties others wanted you to attend. You have decorations to put up, cards to make, so much you feel it weigh you down even in the warmth of your bed.
Your mind was too rattled with thought to get a wink of sleep.
You lean back in the chair, pen still pressed against your chin. Your eyes dance around the darkness, pondering before casting back to the screen.
It could take five or thirty minutes to finish its loading screen of death. What if you just closed your eyes for those few minutes? The chair was too uncomfortable to properly doze off, you wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally falling asleep and waking with horror hours later, finding your shift over and none of the work done.
The thought of giving your eyes a rest had you sinking into the worn chair, head falling against back. Just a few minutes of rest, that’s all it would be…
You came to gentle awareness, feeling your pen sliding from your grip. Instinctually you tightened your digits, stopping it. Your tired eyes stayed closed, not accepting that you had work to start.
A gentle tug came from the other end, pulling it further out of your caged grasp. The plastic fell from your hand.
You internally cringed, preparing for the echoing cry of plastic hitting tile.
It never came.
Blearily, your eyes open. The screen before you a darkened void, not even a reflection graced its screen in the pitch black. Headache inducing light and loading screen missing form its surface.
Confusion and worry mingled with your tired mind. Had you fallen asleep? The one thing you had thought impossible in such a withered chair.
Your nerves bubbled, brewing in your stomach before cooling to dread. Internally loathing whatever time would display on the computer when you inevitably had turned it on.
You move your hands towards the keyboard. Your right doesn’t follow. Finding itself stuck, entangled in a fluffy prison.
Eyes jet down. A faux fur blanket is draped over your form. Painted galaxies and stars adorn its plush fabric. It’s snug on the sides, tucked in by skilled fingers.
You freeze. Silver sheen and blue catching your eye, nearly hidden by the still darkness.
Curled, robotic fingers move towards the desk from behind you. Unfurling in the air, showcasing its prize: your pen. Softly pressing the object down onto the metal surface, muting the soft tink.
The hand carves back through the air. Not even the bells on its ribboned wrists jingled in the motion.
Your alert eyes followed the hand. Tilting your head back to find the metal body it was attached to.
The daycare attendant’s lanky form was hunched over you, head directly above your own. You could make out the etched designs of craters in the bottom of his faceplate.
The hunched animatronics red eyes slid down to yours, grin stretched wide as he took in your awakened state.
It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. No matter the emotion he always bore his signature smile. That far too wide grin, also struck unease in the pits of your stomach.
He eerily tilted his head, slowly. The nightcap he wore gently swaying. A soft jingle resounds from it, fracturing the silence with a note.
Your heart thudded in your throat, threatening escape. Locked in a staring contest you didn’t dare to loose. The unpredictable nature of the animatronic swayed in your mind, rocking on a splintered chair.
An unkinked digit crept to his grin.
“Shhh,” Static and rasp intertwine, emitting from his gravely voice box.
You jolt, his other hand briskly wrapping around your blanketed mid. Tingling emits from the gentle wrap, crawling up your body before settling on your face in a red hue.
“Shhh,” He hushed again, voice holding less static as it warmed. He kept his tone low, as if not to disturb you anymore than he already had.
His hand slips from his grin, disappearing off to the side. The hand wrapped around you gently rubs over the blanket, caressing your side through it. The muffled touch did little to soothe your frightened state.
A cool touch on your hand jerks your head down, finally breaking away from red lit eyes.
Silver fingers encase around it, gliding your hand down to the blanket. Moving with deftness he loosens the tucked blanket, intent on trapping your other limb inside the warmth.
Danger tingled the back of your spine; what would the attendant do once you were fully in your coddled prison? You didn’t plan on finding out.
You dart up right, blanket tumbling down. Dashing forward, the chair flew back from the force. Colliding metal ricochets.
Static annoyance growled behind you, low and foreboding. Fingers attempt to harshen their grasp around your fleeing form.
Ripping yourself free with the element of surprise— you collide into the desk. Your breath leaves, taking your strength with it. Torso bent over the metal lip, face dropping beside the keyboard. Your abdomen burns from the harsh introduction to metal.
In your haste to get away, it seems you had forgotten what stood before you in the dark.
Jingling bells crept towards your prone form. Hands once more found their way to you, wrapping over your shoulders. Grip harsher than before.
You felt his piercing stare sinking into your bones. The blaring pain not saving you from the swirling dread.
Moon made no movements, letting you recover from your own stupidity.
Your breathing drew back to a rhythmic pace. Waned strength returning. Daring not to move with the fingers tightly enclosed on you.
“Naughty, Naughty,” He tuts, trailing off into a strained giggle. The sound akin to a hinge in desperate need of oil.
“You should be punished,” Voice harshened, grip tightening. Fabric scrunches around his hands. The threat of pain evident, but not yet a horrid reality.
Your breath stutters, heart skyrocketing. The rumours ran wild in your mind, building looming towers and horrifying castles within your imagination.
The pressure of robotic strength around your shoulder bones brought forth wave after wave of anxiety. He could snap it jagged, breaking it and you. It wouldn’t take much, just one push down on either side.
Would you become one of the rumours? The person who had their shoulders snapped by the malicious nap time attendant.
A soft jingle brought you back to the desk your face laid against. His hold lightens, fingers thrumming like a wave over the cloth.
“Punishment you already had.”
The fingers wrap back around, gingerly lifting you to a standing pose.
Fearful bones hid under taut muscle. His shift back to gentleness did little to soothe. His unstable nature resided within, even if it didn’t show at the moment. At the drop of a dime, you feared his tight grasp would return, and grow bone crushing.
In nimble motion the daycare attendant released you, crouching low. Arms began lacing around your raw middle.
You hiss, blunt pain present from the blow into the desk.
He stills. Arms move lower, circling around your thighs.
Your brow quirks, eyes following his grabby hands. What was he doing?
Abruptly he stands, taking you with him. You gawk, legs flailing as they find no purchase. The dizzying height does little to still the panic beating in your chest.
He holds you against him, back to his robotic chest. His hold was awkward, making you lean back into his chest, fear of toppling forward overruling that of the animatronic. Your hands form a vice grip on the arms that held you.
He giggled, the off tuned chime echoing into your back, tingling up your scalp.
Striding with long legs he takes you away from the desk. Steps precise, dodging hidden landmines of untidied toys. Your eyes catch a faint glow off in the far corner, hidden by metal bars and foam blocks.
Moon leisurely steps by them, knowing his destination.
The blanketed black of the room is pulled away, replaced with soft glowing stars. They dotted up the wall, continuing up the under arch of a bridge connecting two sides of the jungle gym. Celestial themed bean bags and sleeping mats littered the space, a blanket on each except for one.
Uncertainty and confusion joined the mixed bag of emotions rumbling inside. Brow furrowed at why he had brought you to the nap time corner.
He gently lowers you before a bean bag, hands unlacing to return to your shoulders.
“Bedtime,” He softly states.
Bedtime?
Your brow unfurrowed as the puzzling mission of the animatronic is put together.
Seeing you asleep in the chair must have triggered his protocol. His programmed desire to put children to rest, comfort them through fearful dreams was focused upon you.
But you were not a child, nor did you have time to sleep.
“Moon, I think your confused-”
Brutish strength pushes you face down onto the bean bag. The brief crunch of beans, shifting from the sudden weight fills your ears.
Attempting to push off, you feel his spindly hand press down on your back. The warning pressure keeps you in place, not daring to defy him any longer.
“Bedtime,” Static snarls close to your ear.
It seems this was not a choice for you to make.
Thoughts of fleeing were dashed when starry pants kneeled into the bean bag. He turned you on your side, careful of your stomach. Clingy arms returned, snaking under your chest and over your ribcage. Leg lifted, crossing over your own.
He curved his body, spooning into you. Head rested on the cradling surface above your own, bent down to look at you.
His grin remained, seeming somehow more mischievous than before.
Your face was redder than old saint nicks nose. Flustered at the position the attendant had chosen to keep you trapped. You sputter a response:
“I have-”
He gently squeezes. Your second warning.
Annoyance trickles over your fear. You had work to finish, but the threatening insistency of Moon had you realizing that wouldn’t be happening.
You sigh, head sinking into the soft fabric in defeat.
Soft christmas music sounded from his chest, washing over you. The wordless tune slowed on piano keys, contrasting the upbeat joy it normally carried.
Moon reached behind him, dragging a blanket over the two of you. His hands rubbed over your ribcage, mimicking his earlier attempt.
Butterflies flutter just below his hand in your stomach. His touch creating gentle warmth where ever it travelled. Nervous and fluttery feelings making a unsure smile appear.
Seeing your eyes alert he shifted his hand up, lightly placing it over your eyes. Your hands shot up, fumbling with the blanket. Panic evident at your now blind state.
“Relax.” He drawled on sharp teeth, lowering his grin to the top of your head. “Time to sleep.”
Hands still under the blanket. You reluctantly lower them, deciding to no longer test his patients. It already was thinner than wafer paper.
Pleased, he nuzzles into your skull, not helping the toasty warmth in your cheeks. You worried his hand could feel the heat stirring under it.
His chest suddenly rose and feel with artificial breath, pulling your body to and fro in rhythmic sways. You felt like the tide after a storm; gentle and bubbling with anxious foam that softened as the clouds cleared.
Your thoughts continue to bounce, until stripped away by a rising yawn.
He softly coos at the tired sound, unclasping his hand from your face. Sliding it under the blanket he rests it on your shoulder, giving more lulling rubs.
Your eyes didn’t open, choosing to not fight against the pull of sleep.
Moons systems warm his body, the comfortable heat akin to a warm bag against your back. You slumped against him, your forgotten drowsiness weighing down on you.
The animatronics voice joined the chorus of piano, vibrating the sounds into your bones. His grin pressing down against your forehead.
You had but one thought as you drifted away; how do you explain this to your boss?