Chapter Text
I walked around the pizzeria, thinking about the tapes I had just listened to. Training tapes are what they were supposed to be. But that was being extremely generous. They were at the extreme opposite ends of each other, yet provided the same amount of information.
The first tape was upbeat. It had music, graphics, and a lot of sarcasm. It went over different components of "good business" with mixed strategies. It had said that cutting corners was useful and that you needed to make money, but that "You might die".
It was basically a "Hey, you sold your finances and soul to us in exchange for a shitty pizzeria! Don't fuck it up!"
The second one was eerie. It was in the basement, with one dim light hanging from the ceiling, a tape recorder, and a man whose voice sounded like it was coming from behind me.
According to the man on the tape, I had 2 jobs. The one I had applied for, as well as "salvaging" animatronics that were left in the back alley. I didn't know what that meant, nor did I want to know. At least not right now.
Animatronics ripped my family apart. Literally.
Father had worked at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria for as long as I can remember. He was one of the mascots, a golden rabbit named Spring Bonnie. His counterpart, Golden Freddy, had different inhabitants throughout its time. People would just...stop showing up to work.
He and Mother had me, my sister Elizabeth, and my brother David. My family was born and raised in Hurricane, Utah. Everyone asks me why I have a British accent.
"Father makes us talk like this." I would say with a shrug.
I was never close to Mother or Father. I know that every parent says they don't have a favorite, and every child says they are their parents' least favorite. It's basic sibling rivalry and desire for parental attention.
I gave up on that a while ago.
Mother doted on David. He's the youngest and the only boy. He was also a walking anxiety disorder. He had no emotional regulation skills and was terrified of the world. At school, he earned the nickname "Crying Child". Sometimes I called him that at home, too.
Elizabeth was the apple of Father's eye. Always an angel, she could do no wrong. She was the only one who could get away with not having an English accent, always calling him "Daddy". She got to test-play all the new games and try the new pizza flavors. Anything she wanted, she got.
But, like every other big sister, I have my soft spots for them.
David used to have horrible nightmares. He wanted to sleep in the bed with our parents, but, of course, Father wouldn't let him. After a couple of weeks, he stopped trying. He kept a flashlight on his nightstand and dark circles under his eyes.
One night, I got up to use the bathroom. On my way back, I heard footsteps from David's room. I assumed he was about to try going to our parents' room. I didn't want him to have to go through that rejection again, though. I started walking to David's door, my steps soft so as not to scare him.
A bright beam was in my face, then the sound of a door closing. I groaned and rubbed my eyes. I mumbled a curse, walking to David's door again. I was about to open the door when David opened it instead, shining the light in my face again.
I groaned again, shielding my eyes. I was about to ask him what his problem was, then I heard the sound of him crying pathetically.
"Hey..." I soothed, kneeling in front of him.
The flashlight shook in his small hand, the beam finally away from me. The two-bedroom doors were open, as well as his closet door. The Golden Freddy plush sat on his bed, seeming to do the opposite of its job in comforting him.
"The robots! They were here!" David whimpered, tears streaking his pale face.
"Buddy, we've talked about this. You're having nightmares, they aren't real."
"I saw them! FredBear was at my left door! He talked to me!"
"What did he say?"
"I assure you, I am very real," David spoke in a low, raspy tone.
I had to give him credit; that was creepy. I hid it under a sigh and gently wiped his tears.
"Come on, Crying Child, you can sleep in my bed."
After that, David snuck into my room at night. I never told Father. I liked having him there, like a little heater. I had grown used to his sleeping position and movements to the point that I already had his pillow and blanket set up when he came in. In the morning, he would slink into his room and act tired when Mother woke him up for school.
In 1983, some older kids, known bullies, were at Freddy's. Everyone knew Father, he was well known because of his design contributions to the animatronics, as well as being the mascot of the golden rabbit. By proxy, David was well known.
Which made him an easier target.
When the police arrived at the pizzeria, they got statements from each boy. David had been hiding under a table. He was scared and crying. The bullies had grabbed him and carried him to the stage. One said that David wanted to give Freddy a "big kiss". They then raised David and put his head into Freddy's mouth. He was struggling in the bear's mouth, sobbing. He was terrified, just wanting to be home and snuggled up with the golden bear plush.
Then, there was a loud, wet "crunch".
Elizabeth and I were in the living room while Mother cooked dinner. The phone rang, then screaming.
The sounds of Mother's screams went on for hours at the time. But they are a permanent fixture in my mind.
Everything after that was a blur. The hospital visits, the funeral, the cremation.
Father was never a good man before David's death. But he became worse after it.
He and Mother were having marital issues, it wasn't hard to see why. A couple of weeks after David died, Mother got up and left. Rumors spread that she had gone to be with another man. Another said that she had killed herself due to grief. It didn't matter what she did, she never came back. It became me, Father, and Elizabeth.
I had grown numb to his "late-night visits". I knew that, if I fought back, Father would go to jail. That would be just another loss to the family. A loss that would be made larger when taking into account that Father was our only source of income
Soon after David died, fate decided to rip another child away.
Father was about to open a new location of Freddy's. It would be similar to the original restaurant, but circus-themed. The main animatronic, a clown named Circus Baby, was one that Father had made specifically for Elizabeth. He had her down in the basement with him for hours on end, teaching her the ropes and guiding her on making things.
But once Baby was built, Father wouldn't let Elizabeth near her. Even when he was making the other animatronics to go into the cast, she was still prohibited. She complained often, asking why he wouldn't let her play with Baby. He would give the typical parental response of,
"Because I said so.".
I understood the appeal. Elizabeth brought me to see the animatronics. They had even programmed Baby to have a stomach hatch that opened and would present ice cream. She was shiny and new. It was nice that Father had made this for Elizabeth. Jealousy would've popped up if I had any emotions towards Father that indicated I cared for him.
It was the day before Circus Baby's Pizzeria World was supposed to open. Father and I were on the main floor, adding the last few decorations. Elizabeth had snuck down to the basement. She didn't want to share Circus Baby with everyone since she hadn't gotten to play with her at all.
I remember having a horrible feeling in my stomach. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know what it was.
That was when we heard the screams.
Father and I ran down to the basement. Elizabeth was laid in front of Circus Baby, a giant hole in her chest and stomach. Blood was splattered all over the girl and the clown, made more prominent by the colors on both of them. Intestines were strewn around the stomach hatch on Baby. It was obvious that it had done what it was programmed to do.
Offer ice cream to kids.
I assumed that there was a major malfunction that caused the arm to reach out and rip my sister in half. There was silence in the room, save for the sound of leaking fluids. At some point, Father had gone upstairs to notify the authorities, as well as close down the restaurant. He said he would tell everyone it was a "gas leak" and that Circus Baby, or any of the other animatronics, would never be used again.
I could no longer stare down at the mangled corpse of my sister. I looked up at the offender, the giant piece of metal. But something was different now. Baby seemed to have a new spirit in her. Like someone had zapped her and she was more...alive.
"Wait," I said, looking up at the robot, "I thought your eyes were blue..."
Green iris stared back at me. A green that was a replica of Elizabeth's eye color.
I assumed that it was my mind playing tricks on me, that the grieving had already begun.
After that, I didn't have much time to focus on my grief or anything. Father had lost his two youngest children, both to his creations. Mother had left without a trace. There was no one left in the house for Father.
No one except for me.
Everything became hell. The arguing was constant, the violence happening without cause. Nights when I didn't sleep because of what Father was doing or the pain that resulted from it. Sometimes, to distract myself, I wondered how painless their deaths had been. They had to have been painless. It was bad enough that David and Elizabeth were dead. There was no reason they needed to suffer beforehand.
When I was 16, I ran away. I didn't run far. I made it to a friend's house on the other side of town. She let me stay in her attic. Father knew where I was, but he never came to get me. I never told anyone else about the abuse. I think there was an understanding between us. If I kept my mouth shut, I would be left alone.
"And that's how I got here," I mumbled, heading upstairs to the main floor.