Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

[Y/N] was someone who always had an easy time getting lost in her interests. If there was more to learn, it was impossible to stop. Many nights of her life she spent sleepless, in a dark room, only illuminated by a harsh electronic glow as she scrolled through article after article. All for indulging in her curiousities. Some would call them obsessions. 

But really, how could anyone blame her? Especially for her biggest interest. Fazbear Entertainment was always a notoriously seedy company, one all too good at hiding anything that didn't look pretty. The idea of shedding that veil and finding out what was behind it was intoxicating to her. 

It's just too bad her journalism attempts never got her anywhere so far.

It wasn't out of lack of trying, definitely not out of lack of trying. She went further than just dipping her toes in urban exploration, she threw herself in it completely. Any abandoned Fazbear location she read about, she scoured. But there just wasn't much left. With how popular theory crafting for Fazbear Entertainment was, there were countless people scavanging for relics of its shadowed past, usually for the sake of attention from strangers on the internet, that or for profit. Nothing circulated long – either it was kept as personal treasures, or sold, and if it was the latter, it'd be for an ungodly amount of money. Not the kind of money she had.

Her ultimate goal was to get her hands on an old animatronic. One that can boot up and actually function. If she could study its behavior up close and hook it up to check its programming, then maybe she could find something out. Certain models still had working, though rudementary memory banks. It could be a window to what happened all those years back... But it remained a pipedream, still.

After years of attempts, [Y/N] was beginning to get tired of trying. She already spent so much money and time on this, so much of herself in finding out what happened in 1985 and 1987. But researching something as macabre as cases of dead and missing children wasn't good for her mentally. A part of her – the one that still had a semblence self-perservation left – considered giving up. It was for her own good. The people closest to her kept trying to convince her of this.

But then, when she saw the news article as she was scrolling that one cloudy morning, her eyes went bright.

A new location.

Finally, after decades, a new restaurant would open up. And apparently, there would be multiple soon, all owned by different franchise owners. It felt absolutely surreal. [Y/N] never had the chance to actually see one of the locations with her own two eyes, at least not while they were in operation. Now she had it. 

And she sure as Hell would take that chance quick. She still remembered the dread she felt when she heard about that horror attraction a few years back that burned down to a crisp before it even opened. It wasn't surprising, just disappointing. The location in the 90s barely stayed afloat with bad sanitary conditions and a cramped, dingy building. The rebrand attempt they had in 1987 failed after only a week of the restaurant doors being open. Clearly, any attempt that they made to return to their former glory ended up being a flash in the pan. She'd give this location one week, maybe two weeks tops before something tragic would shut it down.

So, on the day Freddy Fazbear's doors reopened at last, [Y/N] started up her car and began her trip there, excited beyond words. As her eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, she wondered how different newly produced animatronics would be to the classics. Maybe she'd even find a refurbished classic animatronic? The thought made her lips twist upward, her fingers drumming rhytmically against the steering wheel. The radio was quietly playing a cheery tune, and, for once, she didn't feel bullshited or condescended listening to something this upbeat so early in the morning. Now, her mood matched the melody perfectly. She kept the same station the rest of the way there.

《¤》Turn to Page 2.

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As soon as she entered the main party room, she was immediately bombarded by the sound of music and children playing loudly. She winced, having expected the place to be a bit quieter. It was strange to her how many parents were willing to bring their children here, despite Freddy Fazbear's ugly track record. Maybe they were paid actors, she thought to herself in amusement.

As [Y/N] advanced through the Pizzeria a good distance away from the tables, she realized just how overwhelming the amalgamation of sights and sounds were. The Fazbear-obsessed woman was well used to strolling in old, abandoned, and frankly terrifying Freddy's locations, but this was different. This was loud. This was bright. Here, she was in plain sight, and somehow that made her feel more vulnerable. She wasn't... Used to this. Maybe her friend was right when they said that all the time she spent online rather than outside wasn't good for her.

But one way of coping with social anxiety and agoraphobia was through exposure therapy, and that's exactly what she'd be doing today. Maybe it will even work.

××××××××××××
☆HELPY'S TUTORIAL CORNER☆
Hi! Helpy here! Huh? What? No, we've never met before. No I never jumpscared you with an airhorn, what's with these accusations? Hmph, well, moving on. Let's get you some info to start out.

This story, like choose your own adventure books tend to, includes a fair number of choices. Some will only add flavor text, but others will affect the story. Some choices affect the way the characters see you, other choices will bar you from making other choices later on or give you the opportunity for new choices. All this can affect which ending you will get, whether they be pleasant or... Less pleasant.

...

Let's not think about that yet, though!

It's recommended to note down each choice you make, even if you think it won't make a large difference. Who knows when the past decides to come and haunt you? 

Lastly, you have an inventory!

As you explore, you may find items that can help you along the way. You'll also be able to redeem items from the prize corner, but more on that later.

You didn't really think to pack much before leaving today. All you have in your bag is a wallet, your phone and some wrapped up mint candy that you got from a co-worker's birthday who knows how long ago but never touched.

《¤》Add wallet, phone and mint candy to your inventory.

That'll be it for now! I will be seeing you later, though, [Y/N]. Have fun!
××××××××××××

《▪︎》Let's explore the pizzeria, shall we? Where do you want to start?

•Look at the people occupying the tables
《¤》Turn to page 3.

•Look at the animatronics
《¤》Turn to page 4.

•Check out the games and side attractions
《¤》Turn to page 5.

•Order something to eat
《¤》Turn to page 6.

Chapter Text

[Y/N] noticed that there were quite a lot of other adults that came here, either alone, or with friends. Comforting. She was worried she'd look like a creep, coming here, all on her lonesome. A table of them sat and chatted, joking about the strange taste and texture of the pizza. "Oh wow, looks like they used the same plastic from the bots to cook this monstrocity" one of them commented, snidely. 

A lot of the adults sitting alone were silently looking up at the animatronics with scrutiny, like they were great old paintings put up in the Louvre. Fascinated, but somewhat intimdated. They were probably worried about one of them causing some sort of horrible injury to an innocent pizzeria goer. It was a really rational fear to have. [Y/N] was worried, too. She read about what must've been each case of children and adults being injured by these seven foot tall robotic beasts. The ones... Publically available, at least. Without a doubt there were more that were sweeped under the rug. Not that she had direct proof, but so many unexplained disappearances were tied to this greedy, immortal cockroach of a corporation that there was no way they could be all coincedences.

She felt a deep shiver run down her spine.

...Was it stupid for her to come here?

It was. And she regretted not being able to go to Fazbear's Fright, too, despite knowing well she could've died in a fire if she did. But turning down this chance wasn't something she'd ever envision herself doing. She'll be careful, she assured herself. It will be worth it.

《¤》Return to page 2.

Chapter Text

She looked at the animatronics. Up on the stage sang the core four, Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy, in the form of noticeably new models. They were all squeaky clean and shiny, moving without stutter. The Rockstar varients. Their voices came out loud and clear from the speakers, worlds different from the muffled singing she'd hear from the grainy old footage of their performances online. She saw some pictures of these new models on the restaurant's website, but seeing them in person was something else entirely. 

They all carried an instrument now, which she thought made more sense, since they were supposed to be in a band together and all. It used to be only Bonnie who had one, weirdly enough. In the 80s cartoon which was (cutely but unoriginally) titled Freddy and Friends, all of them were ocassionaly granted instruments in the song segments. Not in real life though. 

She still remembered how creepy the animation of that show was, the eerie feeling that she got whenever the characters would stare unblinkingly at the camera for a few seconds too long.

She shook her head. 'Focus, [Y/N]. Focus.' 

With her neck craned up, her eyes focused in on theirs. Candy colored marbles with nothing going on inside, mechanically shifting from one direction to the next in a pattern. Unnerving in the uncanny valley sense, but otherwise, it was how they were meant to behave. There were a lot of reports from parents of children who went to the old restaurants that the eyes of the robots had something strange shining in them, not the reflection of the lights or the eyes of the kids they were looking down at, but something actually alive coming from within. These, however, were but empty husks.

She looked around, as if expecting something else. Her heart sank when she realized they was all the animatronics they had. No side performances, no gift corner animatronic. Well, there were side attractions of some form. Just the more... Mundane kind. In comparison to the animatronics, at least.

《¤》Return to page 2.

Chapter Text

Just because they aren't high-tech robots doesn't mean they deserve to be disregarded. Side attractions deserve love and attention too.

××××××××××××
☆Helpy's Tutorial Corner☆
Each day, you'll get the opportunity to play some games that the pizzeria has to offer. As the story progresses, you'll notice more games popping up. In each game, you can gain points, and with enough points you can get prize tickets. You can in turn use those to get either in-story items or out of story collectables. As of this point none have been added yet, but rest assured they will be added gradually! 

For most of the games you'll be needing dice to determine the results. No problem if you don't have any physical ones, digital ones off google work just fine!

You'll only have time to play any of the games thrice each day. ...Though that probably won't give you any decision anxiety this time around, since there's only one available in the current version of the game.

Example: Let's say Fruity Maze, the rubber duck pond, and the balloon stand are available. One series of games you could choose for that day would be to play Fruity Maze once and duck pond twice. 

After each game, please note down the score you got in your handy Fazpad so you can have that ready for when you want to get your well-earned tickets. 

Should be all for now! Have fun~
××××××××××××

《▪︎》Which one do you want to check out?

•The paper... Uh... People on the wall? Some animals, some people
《¤》Turn to page 8.

•The little rubber duck pond (Game)
《¤》Turn to page 9.

•The ball pit
《¤》Turn to page 10.

•See if there's anything else to do
《¤》Return to page 2.

Chapter Text

It's a pizzeria, so one would assume they'd try to make the pizza good. Something was telling her that Fazbear Entertainment wouldn't really care very much about making something high quality. The draw of the restaurant were the animatronics and the speculation surrounding them, nobody cared enough about the food at Freddy's for them to also care in turn.

She walked over to the rows of tables, and found one further back from everyone else that looked appealing. She was still able to get a good enough look at the animatronics performing from her angle, but also to the other customers chowing down and talking amongst themselves.

The woman's eyes filtered through the tables and eventually spotted a waiteress leaning down to place a plate of pizza at a family table with two rowdy children and a slightly quieter one. When [Y/N] saw that the employee was free, she called out to her, voice a bit too hushed to be heard. But thankfully, the action of raising her hand succeded in getting her attention. The tall brunette made her way over, wearing a red and white Freddy's uniform along with the practiced smile of a seasoned customer service worker.

After deciding, the waitress let out a quiet "got it" and left her table, already letting the smile drop. [Y/N] drummed her fingers lightly on the table and began looking around, expecting to wait at least a little bit for her order to come in. But in no time, the waitress came back with her pizza slice, setting the paper plate on the table in front of her. 

[Y/N]'s food came in surprisingly quickly, and that was when she realized that, in all likelyhood, they had them premade and reheated whenever they needed to hand over a new order. Hopefully they made it themselves and didn't just, say, grab a bunch of boxes of the cheap stuff from the local supermarket and used them instead.

It smelled good, and looked about right from first glance, with the crust lightly browned and the toppings glistening deliciously under the lights. Plus, she was pretty hungry. She was so excited to get here that she couldn't work up an appetite until food was directly under her nose. No doubt, her hunger made the smell of the slice more appealing than it ordinarily would be.

When she picked it up, though, that was when the illusion of quality started to wane. It was kind of floppy and soft, the way you'd expect pizza to be after being reheated in a microwave. She took a bite, and immediately remarked internally on the chemical undercurrent of the taste. The sauce was oddly sweet but watery, something that children would no doubt be happy with, but an adult less, partially because of the knowledge that "oh, this is probably like, really bad for you". The cheese had an oddly tough texture that was a lot less soft and stretchy than it initially looked, the taste of it less dairy and more oily. The base of the pizza was comparable to cardboard left out in the rain.

It just made [Y/N] kind of... Sad. But not really surprised, given her pre-existing distrust of Fazbear's. The price a single slice came in for couldn't possibly have worked out if it wasn't for the brand it came under. It reeked of corporate greed and lack of care, to the point she felt a bit ashamed to have spent even a cent on it. She finished the whole thing, nonetheless. A part of her did enjoy it, but she knew it was just the monkey brain in her getting hooked to the chemicals imbued inside the pie. Not something she could help.

Not something she'd try again.

Now that she checked out the pizza that this pizzeria had to offer... What will she do next?

《¤》Return to page 2.

Chapter Text

-To be added!-

Chapter Text

Some little guys formed together from paper plates with silly faces drawn on them, hanged up on the walls sparsely. It was pretty cute, she thought. But besides that, the walls were rather barren. She wondered who made them, because she couldn't really imagine someone would order these and get them delivered to the pizzeria. But the idea was, admittedly, hilarious. Maybe one of the employees made them, or maybe it was free labor from someone's child? Just another one of the haunting mysteries of Fazbear Entertainment.

《¤》Return to page 5.

Chapter Text

An inflatable pond with 16 rubber ducks. The yellow ducks swam serenly, unaware of the troubles of this world. Simply enjoying their time here. Swim on, little ducks.

Attached was a crudely written sign saying "pick-a-duck!". Will she? It looked like there was a small box nearby where she could insert the payment.

After a moment of consideration, she thought to herself "why the heck not" and took her wallet out of her bag. She wasn't entirely convinced she was being monitored. The prize counter employee looked to be half paying attention to his surroundings, half paying attention to his phone. But it was best not to risk it just to skimp out of paying the fifty cents admission fee. and just pay like any normal person would. She slipped in the payment, fifty cents, and then returned her attention to the pond. After careful deliberation she picked her duck of choice. Turning it over, she saw a number written in black. That number was...

《▪︎》Did you get 100 points, 500 or 900? Roll two 6 sided dice and find out!
•If you rolled 11-12, you got 900 points.
•If you rolled 8-10, you got 500 points.
•If you got 1-7, you got 100 points.

《¤》Regardless of how many points you got, update your current amount of points, and return to page 5.

Chapter Text

Tucked away in the corner was a pretty sizeable ball pit. It looked almost hidden away, where the lighting was dimmer and where the children didn't venture. A bit odd that no one seemed interested to check it out. Were ball pits not "in" anymore? Or maybe the parents kept the kids away. Ball pits could be potentially dangerous, and any parent that knew anything about Fazbear Entertainment and had a half functioning brain would be on their guard around here.

[Y/N] remembered loving those when she was younger, potential suffocation hazard aside. She enjoyed the feeling of being able to sink away and be "invisible" for just a bit during loud birthday parties or events that she was dragged to. She called it her own secret fortress, even though it was not secret at all and most certainly didn't belong to her.

She checked left and right. Nobody was looking at that very moment. But the possibility of being seen jumping in a ball pit when she was an adult woman was... Unpleasant, to say the least. It'd be the kind of thing that would haunt her in the dead of night, when she's trying to fall asleep. Besides, she had a... Strange feeling when she stepped closer to it. Something oppressive, like the air itself around the pit closed in on her. It reminded her of the kind of atmosphere some of the abandoned Fazbear locations she explored held. She singled the reason down to the knowledge that she should not be there, but there she was now, in a public pizzeria in broad daylight.

It was so unignorable she could compare it to a toxic fume. It wasn't anything physical that she could explain with words and logic. Was it because it was tucked into the corner, because the lighting was dimmer? Did that sort of emulate the atmosphere she'd see in an abandoned building?

...Maybe she should do something else, first, before she checks it out. 

《▪︎》What do you say?
•See if there's anything else to do
《¤》Return to page 5.

•Jump into the pit
《¤》Turn to page 11.

Chapter Text

She approached it, the immature child in her excited at the prospect of jumping in. Up close, it looked larger than she already thought it was. Four poles were attached to each edge of the box with nets hanged up from each of them, no doubt to keep the children from hitting their heads against the wall behind it. Still, they were awfully loose. They looked like they could be pulled off with little effort. Blue, green and orange balls were contained inside, nearly to the top. They were probably once vibrant shades, but were now shadows of their former selves. It was clear that this ball pit was older than anything else she could see around her.

Just an old, plastic padded box. So then... What was she doing, anyway? Why was she so excited to get into some old ball pit? Were adults even allowed to use it? It was certainly big enough to fit her, yes, but the idea of being kicked out over something like this made her take a step back and rethink things, literally and figuratively.

She was about to turn away, when she spotted something... Strange. She squinted, only then realizing it was writing. Not even half of the text reached the top of the rubber balls, making it unreadable from where she stood. Could that be the manufacturing date? She'd wager the ball pit was pretty old... She could check. With renewed interest, she took a few steps back towards the side of the ball pit, leaning forward with her hands on the cushioned borders. 

'Ugh... Why is this thing so big anyway? It's for chileren.' She thought to herself in frustration, her hand flailing forward without result. With one hand on the border and the other trying to clear the rubber balls out of the way, she needlessly risked to fall inside unceremoneously. The ball pit was cushioned, but it still wouldn't be a pleasant experience, especially since everyone's eyes would be firmly on her if she suddenly fell face forward.

[Y/N] looked left and right again. Nobody was looking towards her, the strange woman glowering at a children's play pen. She'd probably have the dim lighting and distance to thank for that. She stepped inside, one leg, next the next. She fully expected to reach the bottom and be able to stand up normally. Even the average 10 year old would be tall enough to be able to reach the bottom with their full height.

But her legs didn't reach the end. And not because she wasn't tall enough.

And her body sank down. Alarmingly quickly.

She was only able to let out half of a sharp gasp before her mouth went below the level of the rubber balls. Then, in a split second, they blocked her eyes. Below, everything was pitch black. She couldn't even see a flicker of light from above. [Y/N] breathed out desperately for air, in the throws of fight of flight. She tried to flail her arms, tried to grab something, anything, but she couldn't feel a thing around her anymore. It was like the world surrounding her was gone. She was the only thing real anymore.

Was she dying? No. No no no no not now, not now-

She couldn't fully explore the horror of it before she saw a flashing white before her eyes, a sharp hiss attacking her ears. If she were to compare it to anything, it'd be to a train starting, growing louder and louder as it neared her.

And then, it disappeared, leaving behind a chasm of silence.

《¤》Turn to page 12.

Chapter Text

[Y/N] was in a dim space, sat down. Dim, not fully dark. Her eyes were directed to three bars of light from above, from slits coming from the wall just front of her. She struggled to adjust her eyes to the darkness. Wait, no. It wasn't a wall. It was a door. She extended her hand, jumping a bit when she felt the unpleasant cold of the metal. But when she recovered, she pushed it all the way. The sudden lighting practically blinded her, like she was stuck in the dark for God knows how long. She hissed in pain, closing her eyes to recuperate. She rubbed her temples, trying her best to ease her growing, throbbing headache.

'Calm down. Calm down. This isn't the time to panic.'

She breathed out shakily, opening her eyes. Barely then did she realize her bag was nowhere to be seen. She must've placed it down on the side of the ball pit before getting in.

《¤》Remove wallet and phone from inventory.

So now, she was stranded God knows where, without her phone to orient herself or call the cops if something happened. She hoped dearly she remembered self-defense well enough.

[Y/N] looked around the room. It was a professionaly decorated personal office, the kind that she'd feel intimdated even knocking the door of. Looking around in the container she found herself in, she realized just how messy it was in comparison, with papers thrown about haphazardly. Bills that looked decades old, documents she probably didn't have any legal right to look at... All stacked on cardboard boxes with contents of probably much the same.

If she wasn't careful, she could very well topple something over.

So she lost consciousness in a ball pit, and woke up inside a locker inside an office. How did that add up? 

Did she pass out?

'Fuck... Did somebody...?'

[Y/N]'s heart started beating wildly at the worst-case possibility. She couldn't have dragged herself here when she wasn't even conscious. But nobody was in the room, waiting for her to wake. Furthermore, the locker wasn't even locked. So what would be the purpose of placing her there, if not to trap her? Just to fuck with her?

[Y/N] tried to carefully get up to her feet with her arm against the side of the locker for support, but her legs felt like jello – so much so that she almost fell face forward on the floor. Good thing she didn't, she'd be sure to kick over a stacks of documents in the process. There might not be anyone there currently, but that could change at any moment, and it's not guaranteed their intention was pretty. Her heart beat chaotically, the only real sound that could be heard by her besides the soft "tick-tock" of a clock. she pushed open the doors, and raised her feet to make it past the clutter, careful to not stomp on anything in the process.

Away from the unpleasant smell of dust of the locker, the sweet scent of airfreshner wafted through the air of the office – peach with something floral. The space was as orderly as can be, almost creepily perfect. It looked like the locker and the room were owned by two completely different people.

The closest thing of interest was a dark mahogany desk nearby. A name plate was perched on the right of the desk, next to a charming small sculpture of a porcelain white rabbit.

...Why did she feel like the rabbit's red eyes followed her when she passed by?

Realistic sculptures like that were impressive, but sometimes they stepped right into uncanny valley.

She approached the front of the desk slowly, trying to not look at the rabbit.

"William Afton".

[Y/N]'s jaw clenched as she stared at the name. Her mind wandered back to the nights she'd spend researching him. That was one of the two owners that founded Fazbear Entertainment, the more elusive of the two. Henry seemed more reserved than William, but not in the anti-social way, far from it. He was an emotionally honest man, so down to earth that he looked like he could be your friendly neighbor down the road that you could ask help from any time of the day and he'd always be happy to give it.

William Afton, despite his disarming charisma and general appearance of an extroverted socialite, was far more closed off. There wasn't much about him publically known. Interviews with him were pretty dry and artificial, with his answers seeming like they were carefully curated to fit an image. The answers he gave didn't seem to be his own. Afton's disappearance in 93 was met with mixed reactions from people. Those who admired him and held him up as a role-model of a business man and engineer were distraught, the ones that got a sense there was something unusual about him became even more suspicious.

Some people thought he ran away because he had something to hide. Some people think he's still around today under a new identity. But [Y/N] was nearly convinced that he was dead. If there was one thing she knew about Afton, it would be that he was the kind of person that made his presence known whenever he entered a room. His deep but velvety smooth accented voice, his particular face shape, those eyes... He'd be found out immediately. 

Whatever happened to the man, it happened a long time ago.

If she was in his former office, then surely, it wouldn't be this well maintained. Air freshner wouldn't spray in the room every so often. The desk wouldn't have been this well polished. The plants in the corner would've long shriveled up. Abandoned buildings weren't foreign to her, and this wasn't one of them. This office was ready to welcome guests.

Now not only did she need to figure out what happened to her, she also wanted to find out what happened to long missing business man.

《¤》Turn to page 17.

Chapter Text

She checked the rest of the desk with more interest now. Stacks of paper sat squared perfectly ontop of the left side, a dark purple touch-tone telephone at its side. On the right side of the desk was an expensive looking wooden pen holder propping up a black fountain pen with golden accents. It seemed like the owner of this office liked to buy things that leaned on the flashy side, even if it was something as inconsequencial as a pen to write with. Something that is normally purely practical turned into a status symbol.

It could also turn into a weapon. She heard about people being able to do quite a bit of damage with just a measely pen, and while she really, really, deeply did not want to do the same, if someone found her unconscious body and their first thought was to stuff her in their locker, she might be forced to make an exception for that person.

Still... She eyed the pen carefully, then took it in her hands, popping off the cap. It was definitely sharp enough to hurt and resilient enough to handle properly, but it looked rather expensive. Taking it didn't feel right. A part of her held onto that thought, and the other asked "what is morality in a potentially life-or-death situation". If her assumption about what happened was true, it was pretty immoral for that theoretical person to shove her in a locker rather than calling emergency services. So why should she care about borrowing a pen?

《▪︎》Do you want to steal the pen?
•Yes
《¤》Turn to page 18.
•No 
《¤》Turn to page 19.

Chapter Text

She stepped across the room, cautious to not make too much sound. Against the opposite wall was a velvety black couch meant for guests, a low coffee table with a square glass center placed in front. A magazine laid there open, forgotten by whoever began reading it. Some generic looking business issue, the kind of thing someone would display to look intelligent or cultured rather than for them to actually enjoy reading it.

A large potted plant was in each corner of that wall, a bookshelf on the right of the couch and an end table with a shelf full of magazine on the left. She pressed onto the couch with her hand and was surprised with how soft the cushion was. If only she had something so comfortable at home... She'd prepare her hot beverage of choice, sit down and read a book of her favorite genre, letting it take her to another world entirely. Instead, the old, stiff cushions of her couch waited for her at home, in all its sagged, dull colored glory. It used to be a more vibrant color, she was pretty sure, but it was before she got it second hand for cheap online. There was still a possibility of her sinking inside of that one, except that instead of it being the "so comfortable you can't leave" kind, it was the kind that arose from the springs giving out.

[Y/N] felt a tang of jealousy at the fact that this man could afford actual good furniture. His house must be a palace compared to her apartment.

《¤》Return to page 17.

Chapter Text

[Y/N] approached the door. Her chest tightened considerably at possibility of someone being on the other side.

《▪︎》What will you do?
•Try to open the door
《¤》Turn to page 22.

•Wait and listen
《¤》Turn to page 24.

•Keep looking
《¤》Return to page 17.

Chapter Text

It'll be fine. She'd be putting them exactly how she found them. How can anybody screw up folding together a stack of papers?

Before her was a resume from a man named Ralph Sullivan, hoping to get the security guard position. Unlike the brutally honest resignation letter she read seconds prior, the one filled with personal hatred barely disguised through passive aggression, this was exactly how you'd expect a resume to be, tenfold. It painted a picture of a man who was punctual, responsible and happy to mould to whatever his boss wanted of him. The kind of person that used to be a straight A kid in elementary school and raise his little hand whenever the teacher forgot to give the class homework. It was... Almost too polished.

Ralph Sullivan, a man with a degree in child psychology, a genuine love for children and a single father of a beautiful, already intelligent 1 year old daughter. The perfect candidate for a family diner.

Whether the bits about his respect for rules and order were performative or not was unclear to her, but it seemed like it impressed his potential boss quite a bit, enough for him to add a little passage at the end of the page. Without a doubt not directed towards Ralph, but just another monologue to get his thoughts out. This one though, was written in neat handwriting, written by someone in a calmer state of mind.

"He's looks to be exactly what we need. Someone loyal, someone who can actually listen. I'll have to keep him under review to make ensure he is the kind of person he says he is."

Huh. Interesting how both the boss - safe to assume to be Afton - and [Y/N] had the exact same suspicion. He did look too good to be true. Everyone has a skeleton or two in their closet. Maybe Ralph being an apparent perfectionist was what made him lock his closet with several keys then throw each of them in a ditch somewhere.

She felt her hand moving to move the page to the side so she could continue snooping.

Then, she stopped.

'Wait, I'm seriously getting distracted here.'

It was impossible to not feel a bit curious when you're dropped into such a strange situation, but she'd be better off worrying about herself.

The woman took a deep breath as she tried her best to allign the pages to-a-T, face all scrunched up in focus. 'There we go.' She thought to herself, standing back to admire her work. Just like that, the evidence that she snooped was gone. It was the perfect crime. 

《¤》Return to page 17.

Chapter Text

A calendar hanged up on a wall close to the desk, with loud, cheerful colors on the drawing above the dates that attracted her attention the second she looked away from the nameplate. Was that Freddy Fazbear? She stepped closer to get a better look.

No, but close enough. It was Fredbear, Freddy's precursor. It wasn't common for her to see Fredbear merch that was in such pristine quality. Hell, it wasn't common for her to see any at all. The artstyle was charming and old fashioned. The old bear was fishing, a comically large straw hat adorning his head and a smile just as large on his face. Below the picture read the month and year. She had to squint, had to do a double take just for it to even begin sinking in.

June, 1983.

The woman's brows furrowed as the confusion dawned on her. This old? The white of the paper wasn't faded with yellow the way she'd expect it to be, and there were no creases or signs of damage to be speak of. She briefly thought it was a reprint produced for nostalgia's sake, maybe to celebrate Freddy's reopening, but they had no reason to use a year that wasn't current.

Then, she looked down at the dates. X's covered them from the 1st to the 20th in red ink. The 25th was circled, twice, and something was written next to it in neat, rather small handwriting. "Dave's birthday".

"Dave..."

She murmured. Something about that name was familiar.

God, that ache in her head just got worse. This isn't normal. Something is seriously, seriously wrong here.

《▪︎》What do you want to do?
•Take a closer look at the desk
《¤》Turn to page 13.

•Check the opposite end of the room
《¤》Turn to page 14.

•Check the door
《¤》Turn to page 15.

•Check the locker
《¤》Turn to page 20.

Chapter Text

[Y/N] would need to get her hands on anything she could get. If there was somehow some strange misunderstanding and the person that dragged her here was innocent, she could just place it back where she found it.

《¤》Add "fountain pen" to your inventory.

《¤》Subtract 50 points to William Afton's heart level.

××××××××××××
☆HELPY’S TUTORIAL CORNER☆
Hi again! Time to talk about HEARTS. Each character has a level of affinity that’s changed depending on the choices you make. The heart level can give you new scenes or different endings. So, yes, basically regular dating sim stuff! This story/game/whatever this is will have three romanceable characters. William and Michael will be the focus of the story, with the scenes where you interact with Ralph being usually optional.

Each heart is composed of 100 points, and most choices either subtract or add 10, 50 or 100 points.

Each character begins with 0 hearts, and they can actually go below 0. At certain points of the story, you may get a dead end if your heart level is too low. This will mostly be the case for William. You know what they say, too much of a good thing is a bad thing, and that definitely goes for the purple man. Try not to make him like you TOO much, or that may give your playthrough an early end.

On that cheerful note, let’s get you back to the story!
××××××××××××

Feeling a bit of comfort from having the makeshift weapon in her pocket, she looked to the stack of papers on the left side of the table. 'Maybe just a quick peek' she assured herself with furrowed brows. If someone walked in, she was... Moderately ready to defend herself.

On top was a sharply worded resignation letter.

"To William Afton,
I am writing to let you know I can no longer perform my duty as day-shift security guard. My last day of work will be the 20th of June, 1983. After such a long time of trying to show you the obvious safety risks, I'm finally starting to understand you won't listen. Losing me as an employee won't affect you in any way, but continuing to work for people that just don't care wouldn't allow me to sleep well at night. Know that if a worse malfunction happens in the future, there will be no one to blame but you.
Sincerely,
Scott Peterson"

[Y/N]'s face scrunched up in abject confusion. A malfunction that isn't being fixed... It must be pretty bad if it lead this Scott guy to write the first resignation letter she'd seen that wasn't at all flowery and filled to the brim with fake respect. The last sentence was crossed out several times over, but she was fairly sure of what it said.

Barely then did she realize there was something handwritten in black pen on the bottom right of the letter. The writing was scrawled with so much pressure against the paper that it created a noticeable dent. A bit more and it would've torn a hole straight through it, with the ease of a knife through soft cheese.

"Safety risks? Only for those too stupid to follow simple instructions."

...Okay. Strange. She didn't know enough about the situation to tell if he was truly in the wrong, but the level of anger he wrote with seemed inappropriate and unwarranted.

Now that she read what was on top of the small stack, the thought of skimming through what was underneath became a seriously tempting one. She looked around at each corner of the room. There were no cameras in plain sight, but she still couldn't help but worry that if she didn't leave them exactly how she found them, the owner of the office would quickly notice that someone's been rifling through his things. He seemed... Creepily fixated on order. Even a small change would pop out like a sore thumb in the idylic, perfectly organized scene.

《▪︎》Should you take a look at what's underneath the top paper?
•Yes
《¤》Turn to page 16.
•No
《¤》Return to page 17.

Chapter Text

Maybe it wouldn't be such a good idea, afterall. She could always kick the person in the groin and make a run for it. That would be far simpler than aiming with the small tip of a pen. In all likelyhood, she'd miss and then have it taken away from her. 

《¤》Add 10 points to William Afton's heart level.

××××××××××××
☆HELPY’S TUTORIAL CORNER☆
Hi again! Time to talk about HEARTS. Each character has a level of affinity that’s changed depending on the choices you make. The heart level can give you new scenes or different endings. So, yes, basically regular dating sim stuff! This story/game/whatever this is will have three romanceable characters. William and Michael will be the focus of the story, with the scenes where you interact with Ralph being usually optional.

Each heart is composed of 100 points, and most choices either subtract or add 10, 50 or 100 points.

Each character begins with 0 hearts, and they can actually go below 0. At certain points of the story, you may get a dead end if your heart level is too low. This will mostly be the case for William. You know what they say, too much of a good thing is a bad thing, and that definitely goes for the purple man. Try not to make him like you TOO much, or that may give your playthrough an early end.

On that cheerful note, let’s get you back to the story!
××××××××××××

Leaving the pen where it stood perched on the display, she moved her eyes elsewhere, to the stack of papers on the left side of the table. 'Maybe just a quick peek' she assured herself with furrowed brows.

On top was a sharply worded resignation letter.

"To William Afton,
I am writing to let you know I can no longer perform my duty as day-shift security guard. My last day of work will be the 20th of June, 1983. After such a long time of trying to show you the obvious safety risks, I'm finally starting to understand you won't listen. Losing me as an employee won't affect you in any way, but continuing to work for people that just don't care wouldn't allow me to sleep well at night. Know that if a worse malfunction happens in the future, -there will be no one to blame but you-.
Sincerely,
Scott Peterson"

[Y/N]'s face scrunched up in abject confusion. A malfunction that isn't being fixed... It must be pretty bad if it lead this Scott guy to write the first resignation letter she'd seen that wasn't at all flowery and filled to the brim with fake respect. The last sentence was crossed out several times over, but she was fairly sure of what it said.

Barely then did she realize there was something handwritten in black pen on the bottom right of the letter. The writing was scrawled with so much pressure against the paper that it created a noticeable dent. A bit more and it would've torn a hole straight through it, with the ease of a knife through soft cheese.

"Safety risks? Only for those too stupid to follow simple instructions."

...Okay. Strange. She didn't know enough about the situation to tell if he was truly in the wrong, but the level of anger he wrote with seemed inappropriate and unwarranted.

Now that she read what was on top of the small stack, the thought of skimming through what was underneath became a seriously tempting one. She looked around at each corner of the room. There were no cameras in plain sight, but she still couldn't help but worry that if she didn't leave them exactly how she found them, the owner of the office would quickly notice that someone's been rifling through his things. He seemed... Creepily fixated on order. Even a small change would pop out like a sore thumb in the idylic, perfectly organized scene.

《▪︎》Should you take a look at what's underneath the top paper?
•Yes
《¤》Turn to page 16.
•No
《¤》Return to page 17.

Chapter Text

The locker felt like the only part of the room that wasn't ostentatious. It looked ordinary in comparison to everything else, and if it weren't on the smaller side, it would stick out like a sore thumb. [Y/N] was glad she didn't bump her head on her way out of it, and also that she didn't hit her leg against any of the junk inside. It would've been pretty likely.

All this mess reminded her of the absolute state of her room at home. Now [Y/N] was actually eager to clean it. The sweet, comfortable normalcy of it would be a relief after today. How easy would it be to actually get home, that was the question.

Hell, even the sight of her messy room would be enough, no cleaning necessary. That would be comfort enough.

There was a smaller compartment at the top of the locker, filled with stacks of papers and practically ancient bills. But a few of those papers were held together with a lone paperclip.

"Bingo." She couldn't help but say it out loud, a victorious smile on her face.

Something about this made her feel a bit goddy inside. She shouldn't feel like this. She should be entirely afraid. But something about the scenerio felt... Just a bit exciting. Like searching abandoned Fazbear buildings did, which she hadn't done in a long while. Still, she'd much rather get it over with. At least the Fazbear building excursions were all on her, her decision, not the deicision of whoever brought her here.

Knowing she could use the paperclip, [Y/N] stuffed it in her jacket pocket.

《¤》Add Paperclip to your inventory and turn to page 17.

Chapter Text

Do you usually allow strangers to sleep in your office overnight?

Mister Afton laughed candidly and shook his head. “It’d be more of a guest room than an office, then, if I were to.” He averted his gaze, letting the smile drop just a bit. “No. But I made an exception this time.” [Y/N] hesitantly asked “how come”. He looked back to her now, his eyes heavy. “You’re special.” She scrunched up her face, trying to discern if that was a positive or a negative thing. Maybe he was just making fun of her. His face showed no hints that would help her in figuring it out. It would be uncomfortable interrogating him further, so she preferred to just leave it at that.

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”

《¤》You can ask three questions in total, including the first one. Return to page 42.

Chapter Text

[Y/N] tested the door, all the while her heart beat like a drum. This won't make enough sound, this... Shouldn't. She tried it once, twice, thrice, none of them worked. She hoped to God it was the kind of door that was just a bit tough to open, or maybe that she pulled it instead of pushing it and that was the issue, but none of it was true. She was truly locked inside. Someone locked her in there. She swallowed her saliva, but it didn't go down well. It felt like burning poison against her throat. 

'Calm down, [Y/N]. You'll be fine. You've won countless escape rooms before. And exploring abandoned buildings had to count for something, right?'

Immediately she shot down that concept. Abandoned buildings had no people inside of them. That is precisely why she felt so comfortable inside of them. She could be competent and confident when on her own, but the moment someone else came into the equation, that all came crashing down. 

She she needed to get out of this. It didn't matter that she wasn't confident that she could. 

《▪︎》What will you do?
•Keep looking around
《¤》Turn to page 17.

•Use an item
《¤》Turn to page 23.

Chapter Text

She checked her pocket, hands a little bit too shaky and sweaty from the nerves.

《▪︎》Which of these items do you have and want to use?
•Fountain pen
《¤》Turn to page 25.

•Paperclip
《¤》Turn to page 28.

•Keep looking
《¤》Turn to page 17.

Chapter Text

The woman pressed her right ear against the door, quiet and still as can be. From the other end, she could hear the faintest sounds of movement, probably one or two rooms over. The sound of jolly music was quiet, it felt deep in the background. The lack of clarity of the notes gave it an ominous, horror movie quality. She felt herself shiver, but realized that it wasn't exactly cause for her to think danger was near. Music won't kill her. Well, except for the one on that one annoying radio station that she hated to bits but her friend seemed to love.

The primary takeway that it seemed like anybody that was out there – they were well far away.

《¤》Return to page 15.

Chapter Text

[Y/N] remembered seeing someone lockpick a door with a pen in a movie she watched a while back. Whether or not she could actually pull it off was another matter entirely, but it was worth a shot.

'Let's see if I remember how to do this...'

She scrunched up her face in both focus and uncertainty as she fiddled with the lock with the tip of the pen. Quickly, she realized just how wrong it felt using it. The tip was rather thin, but not thin enough. It felt like trying to push a square block in a triangle hole. But already having began doing it, she wanted to carry it through.

She regretted that the second she heard an unpleasant snap.

"Crap crap crap-"

She frantically envisioned taking that pen out and fountains of ink pooling out like blood out of an open gash. But when she carefully took it out, she let out a heavy, relief filled sigh.

"Oh thank God..." She whispered breathlessly. The pen was only dented. But just as she turned down her guard, a droplet of ink seeped out of the side of the pen tip, staining the ground. Immediately, [Y/N] internally yelled at herself to clean it, clean it now until it sets. But before she could even begin, she heard the sound of abnormally heavy footsteps advancing closer and closer. Her brain went blank. This person, probably someone very large by the sound of it, was nearly at hand's reach of the door. She'd need to grab a tissue from the desk and cover the pen with it, else she'd make an even bigger mess.

《¤》Turn to page 26.

Chapter Text

Her eyes snapped all around her, looking desperately for the nearest place to hide. The desk, the closest option. If it was the best or not she didn't know, but in the moment of panic she didn't waste time to consider. That chair pulled against it would help give her just a bit cover too, if the person moved to the only side of it that wasn't blocked from view.

[Y/N] slid beneath the wooden surface as quickly as she could, and only then did she start considering if perhaps the locker would've been a better choice. It would've worked... That is, if there wasn't so much goddamn junk in there. The risk of toppling things over in her panicked hurry was all too large.

By the time she crouched down under, the sound of the door unlocking and then opening invaded the room. And it was slow, painfully so, the slight squeak of the hinges gnawing away at her ears, worse yet the deliberate and confident footsteps.

...Why did they stop? Did they somehow see her? 

No, no that was impossible. From where they were standing, not an inch of her was visible. The desk acted as a shield between them and her. But could they have heard her? More likely.

It sounded like they crounched down to the ground, and paused there for a moment, as if deliberating on something.

...Of course. That had to be it.

Now without a doubt, they knew that someone was hiding somewhere in the office. It wasn't like there were countless hiding spots. She would be found, soon.

She felt like she couldn't breathe anymore. It wasn't like the desk was tiny, but it felt like it was unbelievably claustrophobic, with anxiety pulsing through her veins like waves on a stormy ocean. She kept her legs close to her body to make herself smaller, and maybe even to give herself some naive illusion of comfort. In the process of shifting her body, she brushed with her arm against a trash can.

It was nearly filled to the brim, mostly with crumpled papers and some biscuit packages. Not like the contents of this man's trash mattered to her any bit, she just needed to sit as far as she could from the bin, as to not risk toppling it over and making a huge, obviously visible mess.

The person – with their footsteps heavy and impactful like that of a large animal – eventually stopped in front of the desk. Thankfully, the part that was covered. With every shift of their body, she could hear subtle mechanical whirring sounds that confused her at first.

A robot?

They, or it, didn't stop there for long. 

'Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck...' [Y/N] chewed on the inside of her cheek when she heard it near the front of the desk.

The stranger reached the chair soon enough, went around the desk like a shark circling in. She was fairly sure it couldn't sense her yet. Or, well, if it could, it didn't behave like it. It was a shock. Her breathing felt shallow and uneven, something that she'd think would be obvious to pick up on when so nearby to someone.

[Y/N] pushed herself to look at the figure that came into view. Golden fur covered large, robotic legs. She couldn't see much of it, only below the knees. This thing must be pretty tall, significantly taller than the average human.

A realization came to [Y/N] when it shifted its body to the side. It was like it was readjusting their posture, a very human gesture that you'd have little to no reason to program into a robot. There was a human inside of there. 

She heard about this before. It was a crazy idea to her, she couldn't believe that it was ever a widely used thing, but back in the day, there were establishments that made animatronics you could actually wear. They were put out of commission a long time ago, for very good reason. She'd never seen one of those so up close. 

Fredbear's pioneered that technology. It used to be a mark of pride, but now it was just another shameful blemish on Fazbear Entertainment's history. One that resulted in horrible injuries and trauma at best, death at worst. What madman would even wear one of these things, with the risks that came with it?

The stranger wearing the suit stepped closer to the desk, making her heart stop short like a watch that gave out from the wear of time. But they weren't paying her any mind. From the sounds of it, they seemed to be folding together papers hastily, before unlocking the top drawer and shoving them inside quickly. They locked it again. Then, moved away from the desk, casual and calm like nothing was amiss.

She didn't know who the mascot suit wearing person was, but she could already tell what kind of person they were. To... A degree, anyhow. They acted in control, none of their movements quick and hasty. Everything was calculated and cold. Of course, they knew she was there. Hell, maybe they were the one to put her here to begin with. But they didn't seem to be in any hurry for them to find her. Was that out of the sadistic joy of fucking with her, or did she completely misread the situation? Was she... Actually in any danger, after all?

But then again... What good samaritan would find a woman unconscious in a ball pit and decide to keep her locked in an office? She sure wouldn't do that. She'd call the ambulance like a normal person.

They stepped towards the door. Then, paused for a few moments that felt long but probably weren't, probably watching over the room for a bit longer. 'To see if I'd come out', she thought to herself. When they had enough of stretching their time in the office, they stepped out, and cloeed the door behind them. Not locking it.

...Freedom? Yay?

That felt too easy.

[Y/N] wasn't sure when it was safe to get out. Did they actually leave, or where they just waiting outside?

But just sitting there and waiting all day long wasn't an option, obviously. God, what she wouldn't give to get back home now. Her limbs felt restless, and her hiding spot only made her feel like she was trapped in a little box, not tucked away in a safe sanctuary. 

With a heavy exhale, she crawled out from under the desk. Only then did she notice how her body was coated in thick veil of sweat from the fear, her clothes sticking to her back uncomfortably. She awkwardly rubbed her hands against her temples and tried to calm herself down, to very slow, delayed results.

At least she wasn't locked in anymore. Progress, right? She laughed to herself. Dryly. Tiredly.

Away to the door she went. First listening in. No breathing, no footsteps, nothing. But if she paid close enough attention she could hear the jingling of cherry music somewhere deep in the distance.

Squeaak.

She opened the door.

With that, [Y/N] finally left that pristinely organized, too perfect for this world office that just earlier felt like a glorified prison cell.

《¤》Turn to page 29.

Chapter Text

On the other end, she was greeted by a narrow, quiet hallway. The door directly in front read "Henry Emily". Ah. That'll be the second owner. A part of her was deeply tempted to peek inside, but decided against it. Figuring out where she woke up was of far more importance. As [Y/N] eased the door shut in a hushed motion, her attention was drawn to the sound of music, louder now that she neared the source. It was coming from her right. Cautiously, she approached, opening the door at the end of the hall.

《¤》Turn to page 29.

Chapter Text

Paperclips. It was the go-to tool for lockpicking, she knew that. And she was in an office, luckily, so she found one. Worse places to be held hostage in, she supposed.

She wasn't... Entirely sure how to use them. But she saw them be used in media she watched, and she was 99% sure she read a wiki-how article on how to lockpick doors back when she first got into urban exploration. She didn't end up needing to use that knowledge due to the fact most Fazbear locations already had been broken into windows, doors or even walls sometimes, depending on how much the people breaking in hated the corporation that used to own that building. There was no need for a lockpick when the door was already torn open years ago.

...[Y/N] didn't feel like she could do it properly, to be frank, when it wasn't something she even attempted before. She believed in herself very little when in high stakes situations like these. But it could save her, so that meant she had to do it.

With an almost supernatural amount of focus, she leaned against the door and twirled the paperclip around in the lock. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing, and the more she tried the more she doubted herself. Was this thing going to give out before she unlocked it? How fragile were paperclips? They weren't made of titanium, they were obviously not resilient. She needed to be careful.

Eventually, a soft 'click' rang out, signifying her success. Her eyes sparkled in disbelief as if she just found the cure to eternal life. When she pooped the paperclip out, though, the thing gave out to the pressure she put it under for the last few minutes, snapping in half. Her hands were shaky, weak from the nerves, and they let go immediately of the feeble form of the tool she just used and broke. But she didn't care. One broken paperclip was worth her freedom. Already smiling with palpable relief, she reached out to open the door, when she heard the sound of abnormally heavy footsteps nearing it. Her face dropped into a pathetic look of disappointment and fear. That small win meant nothing; she wasn't safe yet.

《¤》Turn to page 26.

Chapter Text

The music was loud, only cut through by the chorus of children's voices mixed in with the ocassional adult's. The change was incredibly daunting and jarring. What was far more jarring was how despite it being obvious she was in a child-oriented, pizza-based restaurant, [Y/N] was most definitely not in the one she drove to today. The space was smaller, and it felt even smaller because of the amount of people inside. It looked to be popular.

Before she could think about it for any longer, she closed the door. "Employee's only" it said. She didn't even know where the hell she was, so yeah, she definitely was not an employee. The woman looked all around her, half-expecting to see a security guard sternly staring her down with a look of "you shouldn't have done that" that could kill. But nobody in sight that could be a guard.

She turned her attention back to the ruckus all around her. Probably the most interesting thing that screamed out at her was the massive bear animatronic entertaining a table of three children, his movements and way of speech all too human. A man wearing yellow springlock suit, but whether or not it was the same one she found walking around in Afron's office, she did not know. 

That was Fredbear, but Spring Bonnie... She looked around. He was nowhere to be seen, not even up on the stage.

There were two holes in Fredbear's mask where the eyes would be, allowing for the human actor inside to fully see. At least there was that, right? If you have to walk around in something so constricting, you should at least be given the common descency to see enough to not trip and possibly suffocate a child in the process.

The dining/party room was filled entirely by families. No bored adults hanging out to gawk at the creepy robots, just screaming children very happy to be there and parents with varying degrees of tolerance to be there. [Y/N] tried to sit as close as she could to the wall to avoid any and all attention, but ironically enough, that was the very thing that got some eyes travelling to her in judgement or confusion. At first she thought it was just because she was a single adult in a sea of families. Then she looked at their clothes, then to her own. They seemed to be wearing summer-ready clothes, while she was dressed for the chilling fall that was already in full swing. That was... Odd of them, right? Her instinct was to think everyone else was strange, but between her and the dozen of other people all dressed the same way, which one looked like the crazy one?

As Fredbear's large stature moved out of her line of view, her eyes caught glimpse of a poster.

"Grab a slice!"

With Fredbear toothily grinning at the camera with a plate of pizza in hand, drawn in a vintage style like the one from the calendar she saw in the office.

"Celebrate!"

Spring Bonnie holding a bundle of balloons with happy children surrounding him.

"Your friends forever!"

Both halves of the pair together, cutting cake for a birthday boy.

"Join us at Fredbear's Family Diner!"

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the posters. It was like a time capsule that she dug up without even knowing, perfectly perserved, not unlike a corpse embalmed in formaldehyde. Fredbear's had a long and successful run, but the horrible accident that caused it to shut down soiled its name irreparably. If it was relaunched, that would be all over the internet, and as someone chronically online she would've definitely heard of it. And yet, she didn't. And yet, everything she was seeing, it was all there.

Panic rose in her chest as she realized just how wrong everything around her was. She couldn't stay. She needed to leave. The second she saw the exit door, she started walking towards it with hasty, large steps, as if everything would instantly become clear to her the second she'd pass that threshold. She wasn't able to make it far before someone stopped her. They placed a large hand firmly on her shoulder.

《¤》Turn to page 30.

Chapter Text

[Y/N] let out a gasp, one louder than she intended, spinning her head around to face the owner of the heavy hand. But instead of eyes, she was immediately faced by a chest covered in yellow fur, two black buttons below a purple tie.

A giggle came from the figure.

"My, you're as jumpy as a rabbit, miss." She looked up, making eye contact with the freakishly tall thing. Two orbs of silver peered down at the woman, shining with an emotion she couldn't place. The only thing she could discern from them was an unblinking, unnerving focus.

He tilted his head to the side slowly, the two rabbit ears on the suit's head bobbing slightly with the action. He seemed to take notice of the way she was searching his eyes for intention.

"Leaving so soon? Before you even had a bite to eat?" The man's voice had a creepily playful sing-song quality to it, slightly high pitched and jovial, like that of a cartoon character. At first she was sure he was american, but with the ending of the sentence she could notice slight cracks forming in the accent.

[Y/N] deliberated on the offer.

《▪︎》Did you eat pizza at Freddy Fazbear's earlier on in the day?
•Yes
《¤》Turn to page 36.
•No
《¤》Turn to page 34.

Chapter Text

You said you were new here once. When did you move here?

The grey eyed man stood and thought for a second or two. “It’s been a while. We moved shortly after me and the wife had our first son. That’d be nearly a decade and a half.” He smiled fondly. “I’ve grown so attached to Hurricane that it feels like I’ve been here forever. …But adjusting was difficult, admittedly.” She noticed how his tone grew flatter near the end of his answer, like he was bringing up a topic with repressed emotions. That clearly was as much as he was willing to go into it, because he grew silent afterwards.

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”

《¤》You can ask three questions in total, including the first one. Return to page 42.

Chapter Text

The smell of the food on her plate eased her nerves, just a bit, giving her a sense of normalcy. If she just closed her eyes, it'd be easy to pretend that nothing strange happened at all, that she was still there in Freddy Fazbear's.

As she took the large slice of pizza in her hands, [Y/N] became aware of the eyes still lingering on her from across the room. It was Spring Bonnie. Despite him being busy showing the kids some sort of magic trick involving cards, he sneaked little glances at the woman. She felt her throat tightening. Eating suddenly became anxiety inducing when she felt like she had an audience.

But the smell was mouth-watering, enough that it could draw her attention away. She took a bite. Then let out a quiet, surprised hum. The cheese stretched in a satisfying way, and the ingredients tasted actually real. Not like they were made from the chemicals in one of those DIY science experiments kits that she'd see in the kids' toy isle. She was fairly sure that the new Freddy's had that kind of taste to it, even if she didn't try it herself. She'd bet an organ or two that what she was eating right then was leagues better. 

...That reminded her. 

Was she not as thorough as usual? Was that why she didn't hear about Fredbear's having a re-opening, too? She had been pretty exhausted lately, not exactly on her A-game. But it didn't make the most sense. With multiple locations (of varying levels of success, but still) and multiple tragic events linked to them, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was at the forefront of people's minds. Fredbear's, less so. Why invest in a re-opening of Fredbear's, after all these years?

With her face scrunched up, she swallowed what was in her mouth. It felt like gulping down stones.

It was good food, but not good enough to make her want to stay around for too long.

Before getting up she spared Spring Bonnie one last look. Should she ask him some questions about the re-opening? He seemed oddly fixated on talking to her. 

On... Looking at her. 

She just felt a shiver go down her spine thinking about it.

There was something definitely off about that man. She didn't feel comfortable talking to him any more than she already did. Calling over the Fredbear performer was an option, but one that would lead to a pretty awkward conversation. She considered how it would feel, working at a family restaurant filled with over-energetic children for minimum wage, and someone just waltzed in drawing your attention away from your duties to interrogate you about your work place.

She stepped towards the exit just like she did earlier. Right as she was about to push the glass door, she heard a familiar american accented voice belonging to someone who is probably a brit beneath the character mask. She clinged to where she stood.

"Aww, leaving so soon, miss? Don't you wanna stay longer? Our show's about to begin."

[Y/N] levitated her hand from the door. She licked her lips, and barely coaxed herself to look behind her. She forced a polite smile.

"I'd like to, really! But I'm... Kind of busy right now." Spring Bonnie's posture shifted. Was he saddened? Offended? Angry, even? In any case, more emotion was in his eyes than would be normal in this situation. "But thank you, I enjoyed the food." That insincere smile made her face hurt.

"What a shame..." He trailed off with that last word, his voice lower.

Not knowing what else to say, she turned away. 

"Wait." The man's voice was serious now. His shadow loomed over her omimously, making her feel caged in. She breathed in, sharply. She didn't want to wait, but she found herself unable to move. She didn't look back, either. "I do hope you'll be coming back tomorrow. Anything you want, on the house."

She almost choked trying to speak. "Sure. Tomorrow." It was just saying what he wanted to hear, just so she could finally slip out. Do they coach their employees to act so persistantly? She was sure such an aggressive strategy hurt business more than helping it.

"I'll see you then, friend~"

Spoken in a sing-songy, high pitched way. The sound of it mixed with the jingle of the glass door opening and closing.

《¤》Turn to page 37.

Chapter Text

"My, quite the busy day today, hm?"

Spring Bonnie smoothly and casually said, eyes gazing over to the other tables before returning to her.

"Oh, yeah. Work days like this must be really hectic, right? Especially since most of the customers are kids."

He shook his head immediately.

"Work? Now now, miss, I enjoy what I do. I could hardly call it work."

Did he actually mean those words? Only an actual robot could handle a room full of loud children and not call it work. That or an actual angel.

"I'd still say it's hard work. Even if it's something you enjoy. It's selling yourself short to not see it as that."

The man next to her hummed, deep in thought.

She tried to take her eyes off him, instead to focus on the menu. Pizza, pizza, and more pizza. Then you had your cakes and cupcakes, fizzy drinks of many variaties. Milkshakes and icecream, too. It was what [Y/N] remembered the average menu items being that Freddy's offered. Fredbear's seemed to be largely the same. She internally made her decision, then awkwardly looked up to the masked performer. Before she could speak, he beat her to it.

"Very true, miss. It is hectic." His voice was quieter, though not really a whisper either. Good thing, otherwise it wouldn't be heard behind the music and sound of children in the background. "It's difficult to keep track of the children. Especially when they... Wander off where they shouldn't be."

[Y/N]'s grip on the menu tightened. As she looked back at the imposingly tall mascot, she realized that he leaned down with one of his hands planted on the table for support. Stone grey eyes bored into hers.

"That's pretty troublesome... Kids are curious to a fault, aren't they?" She forced herself to keep her tone straight, a poker face replacing her look of anxiety.

Quiet reigned over them.

"Curiousity killed the cat, love."

The words felt like cold daggers stabbing away at her skin. She found herself tapping nervously on the back of the menu, a rhythmic drumming that could scarcely be heard behind the cheerful music of the restaurant.

She nodded, hesitantly.

"Yeah. Agreed." She swallowed, looking down at the menu.

"You'd be wise to."

Silence stretched on painfully slowly.

"Made up your mind, friend?" Spring Bonnie asked with a sudden return to that friendly persona, forcing her out of her line of thought.

"Mm, I'll have... This here." The woman pointed over at her item of choice, to which Spring Bonnie nodded. 

"Yes yes, great choice." Somehow, his words felt vapid and devoid of meaning. Sugary fake interest worked well with kids. She supposed it was  skill of the trade.

He made his way over to the kitchen. Not more than a minute later, he came back. How he could walk so fluidly in that suit, she had no clue. Springlock suits kept each animatronic component inside, hunks of metal, springs and servos just sitting idly all around the performer. It must take a lot of practice to move in them properly. 

The animatronic placed the pizza if front of the woman, on a cheerful looking, Fredbear's branded paper plate. While he did this, he was just a bit too close. Not to the degree that it would be very obviously a social faux pas, but enough that she could hear his breathing, feel the warmth of it hit her neck. It was definitely heavier than the average person's, no doubt because of how laborous it must be to be stuck in that thing for most of the day.

"Enjoy." That word came out like a breath, a whisper that trailed to her ears like the faint presence of a ghost. The character voice went away, leaving behind a deep but silky smooth timbre that made her skin crawl.

She was sat there, frozen, focusing more on the Spring Bonnie performer than on the food.

He couldn't have been in that position looking at her for very long, but it felt like an eternity. His silver eyes analyzed her with scrutiny, narrowed, like she was a puzzle he was trying to put together. When he straightened his posture and took a step back, [Y/N] felt like she was freed from a state of purgatory.

He looked at her for longer, arms held together behind him as he stood there with a tilted head. It was awkwardly silent.

"Uh-"

"Just wave me over if you need anything, miss~" He almost purred it out. Then, he walked off, tending to the other tables with Fredbear at his side.

Finally, he left her alone. She almost breathed out in relief.

《¤》Turn to page 32.

Chapter Text

[Y/N] was hoping to eat some pizza today, and she wasn't able to at Freddy Fazbear's before the... Little surprise she had involving the ball pit. If they did have an opening for a new Fredbear's location, then she wanted to know more about it. This would be a good opportunity to sit and observe a little.

She'd be able to fill her empty stomach, too. It was admittedly pretty distracting, especially with the smell of pizza wafting about.

She instinctively reached for her bag to check how much money she had on her, when she remembered that she left it on the side of the ball pit. She checked her jacket and pants pockets, but it was fruitless – she was penniless. 

She looked up at him and smiled in a practiced way.

"Thank you, but I'm not very hungry-"

A faint tightening drew across his posture, his back straighter than before. It almost looked like he felt offended by the rejection. "Tsk..." The sound was so quiet she wasn't sure he even made it. "Are you sure?" His accent grew thicker, his voice lower. British, maybe?

"Yeah. Very sure." Was her awkward, stiff response. She was already envisioning herself walking out that door, but for some reason, she felt herself stuck there, paralyzed.

"The first pizza slice is free, you know!" The man put his character's voice up again with practiced ease. "Just a little gift we like to give to our new friends." Her brow twitched a bit. Why he was talking to her like she was one of the children he was supposed to entertain, she didn't know.

"Huh, really?"

She paused, feigning to consider it, even though she already knew she wanted to try the food. Only issue was the lack of money on her, and now that issue was solved.

"Okay, sure. Sounds good."

[Y/N]'s eyes went over the crowded restaurant. She quickly realized that objectively there weren't that many people inside, it just looked like there were because of how many long tables were lined up to fill the space. Probably to account for extra customers that weren't planned for when building this place. It was pretty surprising of an offer, the one the Spring Bonnie actor gave her. It didn't seem like this place was struggling to make money, so it was likely that the company could hold it up for too long. Unless they wanted to go bankrupt, that is. Well, going bankrupt from giving people free food is definitely a preferable way for a restaurant to die compared to the reason being a child getting murdered by one of your robots.

Wordlessly, the woman stepped over to the only free table, near a window. Last table, it's [Y/N]'s lucky day. Heavy footsteps followed behind her. She winced, looking back. He just innocently tilted his head, as if asking her what was wrong. That's not... Entirely pleasant. The sound of those footsteps reminded her a bit too much of her run-in with the yellow robot in the office.

That could've been him.

Was that him?

Thank God he wouldn't have a way of recognizing her.

Really, Fredbear and Spring Bonnie look nearly identical body wise, except for Fredbear's slightly sturdier build. It wasn't exactly somehing she could immediately observe, unless she were to compare them while they're both in the same room, like she can do now.

The bunny mascot's eyes twitched up, clueing her in on the smile that must've appeared under the mask.

"I'm sure you won't be disappointed. We have the best pie in town."

"Of course. I've heard... Great things about you guys."

No, actually, she hasn't heard anything about them. About them reopening. But apparently, a good handfull of people have, already. She was feeling a bit queasy from the amount of people around her. 

She seated herself down, an unsure smile playing at her lips.

"We have the best [enter food here] in town" is a classic line restaurants like using, so it wasn't horribly encouraging.

But still, it wasn't discouraging either. She tried to keep her mind open. [Y/N] reached over to the colorful menu on the table. As she read through each line, she marveled about how unbelievably, bankruptency incuding-ly cheap everything was. For a second she considered bringing it up but realized that it'd probably be in her best interest to keep any cheap diners around her open.

Now to decide...

...

She could swear that eyes were firmly on her. Looking up, she saw Spring Bonnie eyeing her with a tilted head.

《▪︎》Do you have the fountain pen in your inventory?
•Yes
《¤》Turn to page 35.
•No
《¤》Turn to page 33.

Chapter Text

"That's a lovely jacket you have there, miss."

He spoke as soon as she turned to him. For a passing second, she could swear he directed his eyes down to the pockets, but it was entirely possible she was being paranoid. The pen wrapped in tissues so it didn't bleed through weighed heavily in her pocket.

"...Thank you." Her response came in unintentionally dry, her head too preocuppied with "what if" scenerios.

She pulled further away from him. It didn't go unnoticed.

She tried to take her eyes off the rabbit robot, instead to focus on the menu. Pizza, pizza, and more pizza. Then you had your cakes and cupcakes, fizzy drinks of many variaties. Milkshakes and icecream, too. It was what [Y/N] remembered the average menu items being that Freddy's offered. Fredbear's seemed to be largely the same. She internally made her decision, then awkwardly looked up to the masked performer.

"Isn't it too warm out to be wearing that jacket, hm?" 

"What?" [Y/N] gawked at him like he grew a second head.

"Oh, perhaps the AC is too strong! I'll make a note of that."

She blinked, repeatedly. Was that a dig on her fashion sense, or was he just an awkward person? Wait, what does he even mean, too warm out? It was late fall, when the leaves have already hit the ground and the gusts of air would chill you to your bone. Of course, weather was subjective to a degree, but there's no way anyone could consider such a weather to be inappropriate for jackets.

"Oh no, the AC's fine! Rain's been awful lately, don't wanna get caught in the rain without a jacket on, you know?" She said, tone reserved and gaze low, although she smiled at him to remain polite.

"Mm... Summer showers are a pain, aren't they?"

...Summer showers?

[Y/N]'s mind went back to that callendar in William Afton's office.

June.

"Made up your mind, friend?" Spring Bonnie asked, forcing her out of her line of thought.

"Mm, I'll have... This here." The woman pointed over at her item of choice, to which Spring Bonnie nodded. 

"Yes yes, great choice." Somehow, his words felt vapid and devoid of meaning. Sugary fake interest worked well with kids. She supposed it was a skill of the trade.

He made his way over to the kitchen. Not more than a minute later, he came back. How he could walk so fluidly in that suit, she had no clue. Springlock suits kept each animatronic component inside, hunks of metal, springs and servos just sitting idly all around the performer. It must take a lot of practice to move in them properly. 

The animatronic placed the pizza if front of the woman, on a cheerful looking, Fredbear's branded paper plate. While he did this, he was just a bit too close. Not to the degree that it would be very obviously a social faux pas, but enough that she could hear his breathing, feel the warmth of it hit her neck. It was definitely heavier than the average person's, no doubt because of how laborous it must be to be stuck in that thing for most of the day.

"Enjoy." That word came out like a breath, a whisper that trailed to her ears like the faint presence of a ghost. The character voice went away, leaving behind a deep but silky smooth british timbre that made her skin crawl.

She was sat there, frozen, focusing more on the Spring Bonnie performer than on the food.

He couldn't have been in that position looking at her for very long, but it felt like an eternity. His silver eyes analyzed her with scrutiny, narrowed, like she was a puzzle he was trying to put together. Two words repeated in her head over and over, louder and louder. "He knows, he knows, he knows", but how could he know? There were no cameras. Even if he was the one wearing the animatronic suit, there was no way for him to have seen her, the way she could see him.

When he straightened his posture and took a step back, [Y/N] felt like she was freed from a state of purgatory.

He looked at her for longer, arms held together behind him as he stood there with a tilted head. It was awkwardly silent.

"Uh-"

"Just wave me over if you need anything, miss~" He almost purred it out. Then, he walked off, tending to the other tables with Fredbear at his side.

Finally, he left her alone. She almost breathed out in relief.

《¤》Turn to page 32.

Chapter Text

She just ate earlier, and honestly, she felt like if she ate any more synthetic pizza with the anxiety coursing through her veins, she'd threw it all up.

"Sorry I'm... Full, actually. Just wanted to check the place out." Her smile was saccharine and fake. It took a moment for the bunny costume wearing man to respond, as if what she said was an unspeakable taboo.

"The first slice's free, on the house!" He insisted. Her face scrunched up in discomfort for a flash of a moment.

"No thank you." Now the tone the woman was using was curt, underlining her decision as final.

...

She shifted uncomfortably under that watchful gaze. The silence was awkward as all Hell, but she wasn't entirely sure if it was rude to walk away or not.

Right when she was about to, he responded.

"Alright!" The man resigned. Finally, she thought. He took a step back, giving her some much needed personal space. "If you ever change your mind, you know where to find us... Friend." The way he said that... It made an unpleasant chill run down her spine. There was a strange shift in the tone, lower, and she could pick up on an ever so faint accent lacing the word. British, maybe?

"I'll keep that in mind." She flashed him one last tight smile that felt like it weighed on her face then turned around, pushing the see-through glass of the entrance doors.

They closed behind her. The sound of the bell on top dingling felt liberating.

She breathed in and out, hoping the fresh batch of oxygen would heal her lungs. They felt like they somehow shrank in the constraint of the restaurant. Hesitantly, [Y/N] looked back over her shoulder, seeing the Spring Bonnie performer still there, still... Watching. The mask made it look like he was smiling, always. He raised his hand, and waved, slowly.

She walked away, pace brisk.

'Eugh... Creepy guy.'

But creep or not, now she was outside, and the roads thankfully felt familiar enough. Maybe she could make her way home from here without hassle.

《¤》Turn to page 37.

Chapter Text

As [Y/N] looked around, the sun hit her face uncomfortably. She had barely been outside for a second, but already, she felt like she just stepped inside of a burning oven. She didn't remember it being this hot before entering Fazbear's... Far from it. She felt nearly discouraged from leaving bed that morning just by the fact that it was chilly the second she got out of the blanket.

Her clothes felt suffocating against her skin, clothes that really weren't appropriate for the weather. A jacket, a sweather and long jeans that clinged to her. She was able to take the jacket off, but for obvious reasons, she wouldn't be able to do much about the other articles of clothing. 

Everyone around her were wearing much less. Breezy summer dresses, t-shirts, tank tops shorter pants. But that wasn't the only difference between her clothes and theirs.

At first, it was hard to pin down. Just the general feeling that what they were wearing was off. Not that it looked bad, just... Foreign. Women in high-waisted shorts and pastel blouses, men in tucked polos and wide-collared shirts, children in striped tube socks and short shorts... It was the style of them. Their fabric was a patchwork of vibrant colors, worlds apart from the boring minimalism that was so popular these days. It would fit in great in a retro fair or a film set, but here out on the streets with no cameras in sight,  there was no context to make this normal.

Actually... She was the abnormal one here. Wasn't she? She was the one wearing heavy clothing during what seemed to be a heatwave. She was the one wearing strangely different clothing from everyone else. She was the one looking like a confused, frightened crazy person. She was the one receiving weird looks and pointing from tactless children asking their mothers what was wrong with her.

She felt plucked from her own world. Some things were familiar, like the general layout of roads and the ocassional store and house, but most of it changed. An electronics store's window showcased lines of old, chunky TVs with small screens. Outside of a movie theater were flyers exclusively for movies that released decades ago. Despite how infrequent arcades now were, she found several of them, and they were packed to the brim with children. Not nostalgia-ridden 40-somethings and a few dozen actual kids.

She felt ill. Maybe it was the sun burning against her head, or maybe it was the disorienting situation. But either way, she needed to stop walking for just a moment and collect her thoughts in the shade, or else she'd pass out again.

[Y/N] rested her back against some store. She didn't even check what it was. Otherwise, her headache would worsen, if that was somehow a possibility. She breathed in, and out, trying to calm herself down.

《¤》Turn to page 38.

Chapter Text

From where she was standing, she could see a red metal box on the corner of the street. Newspapers could be seen stacked inside behind a glass window. 

...A newspaper. That would confirm it. 

She rushed her way towards it, like it was a prophet about to give her answers to all her questions.

"THE DESERET NEWS" was written in bold letters on the upper left part of the page. To the right lower to it, in smaller letters...

"Monday, June 20, 1983."

There it was. She couldn't deny it any longer.

It was on the calendar, it was on the newspaper. It used to be fall before she entered the ball pit, and now it's well into summer. 

She wasn't in her own world anymore.

1983. Before she was even born. Many of the older people passing her by must be dead already. A good chunk of the people she knew didn't even exist yet. God... No, no, it made no sense. She must've had a concussion when hitting the bottom of the ball pit. Was this some comma dream? That made more sense than time travel, that was for sure. 

But God, it all felt so, so real to the woman. She never had a dream this disgustingly vivid.

She didn't even realize she began walking until she hit a cross road. She almost walked right in front of one of those cars – the ones that looked so different from the ones in her time, all boxy with hard edges. Where was she going?

Home.

Home... Why was she going home? Why was she following that same trek? She couldn't stop herself, even though she knew it was useless.

Eventually, after walking on auto-pilot for an undeterminate amount of time, she arrived. Her glazed over eyes stared at where the dingy apartment complex was supposed to be. What she was seeing was a nearly empty parking lot, covered in silence. The empty space felt like it hollowed out something inside of her. Her neighbor across the road would hollow out a lot of pumpkins every single halloween. This morning, [Y/N] saw them on his lawn, and didn't think much of it. It was normal, after all. It was ordinary. What is there to say about it? But as soon as familiarity is wrenched from your hands, you start realizing how much it kept you in one piece. It and every other little mundane detail that made up your life. While they didn't matter in isolation, together, they did. And now, she didn't have anything left.

Her eyes started getting cloudy. At first, she didn't know why, until she felt warm tears streaming down her cheeks. All she could see was a chaotic smudge of colors, a mixture of grey concrete and orange sky. She covered her eyes. Fuck. What was she going to do? What could she even do?

And then, [Y/N] started walking again. As automatic as before. She vaguely feels the fabric of her sweater against her eyes, the tears imbedding in its threads. Maybe people looked at her like she was a madwoman. It would make sense. But she wasn't fully aware if it was the case or not. Flashing lights of a sign made her snap out of her stupor. 

"Fredbear's Family Diner" it read. She walked all the way back there. It was the only thing familiar.  

《¤》Turn to page 39.

Chapter Text

She neared the door, almost getting ran into by a mother and her two children in the process. The middle-aged woman glared at [Y/N] as she walked past. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that she was the one running into the mother. She was in such a panic that she could barely perceive the world around her.

The second she entered, the happy-go-lucky music of the family restaurant filled her ears. She wasn't sure if it comforted her or disturbed her. There were barely any people left. Most tables were empty, leaving behind only two families with parents that looked exhausted after a long day with the children. Fredbear and Spring Bonnie – seemingly in animatronic mode – were up on stage, their words barely registering in her head. The only thing that she could digest were the words "closing soon". How long was she wandering around for?

Then a door opened, near the stage. Out came a tall man with chocolate brown hair wearing a suit and tie, and closely behind followed a black haired man clothed in a uniform, one with a white shirt, black slacks and a cap of the same color. A badge reflected the overhead lights, attached to the left side of the shirt. He had a sturdier build than the former stranger.

The first man had a striking dark purple vest, covering half of the black tie and white dress shirt underneath. He talked to the one accompanying him, who nodded to his every word. She couldn't hear what they were saying exactly, they were too quiet and too far away from her for that, but whatever it was, it was treated with importance.

All it took was for her to shift her posture for the man wearing purple to turn his head towards her quickly, as if he was already monitoring the room for anything amiss. Recognition flashed over his eyes. He stood there silent and thought for a few solid seconds before dismissing the person next to him with a quick wave of a hand. Didn't bother to even look at him while he did. The employee mouthed a word she couldn't hear, seeming confused, but nonetheless he nodded yet again and slinked back through the entrance they came from.

Now that the slim stranger was alone, he advanced towards [Y/N] with languid, sure footsteps. He was smiling, but in a soft, concerned sort of way, like he was looking at an injured bird. She was able to spare a glance to his face, just enough to catch glimpse of familiar silver orbs.

"Miss? Are you quite alright?"

[Y/N] realized just how awkward she must've looked to him. She was barely a few steps from the entrance of the restaurant at sunfall, no doubt right before closing hours, showing no signs of wanting to sit down and order food. Just... Standing there, as if lost, waiting for something. With her seasonally inappropriate clothes clinging to her, she sticked out like a sore thumb. 'You look insane' she told herself.

"Oh- Yeah, I'm just..."

She probably sweated a lot on the way there. God, he's too close to her now. He carried himself like someone who never had gone without once in his life. The sweet scent of cologne sticked to his fine, well-ironed clothes. It was hard not to feel out of place standing in front of him, like she was some smelly beggar knocking up the door of a nobleman. 

"Are you lost?" He tried to fill in the blanks, his head tilted to the side in interest.

He addressed her before stopping his steps, just barely far enough for it not be awkwardly close. Now that he was so close, she was sure of it, she saw this man before.

A long, slim face, a pair of cold, analytical grey eyes that looked like they thought more than they felt, and dark brown wavy hair swept to one side on his forehead, cut low in the back but showing some volume up in the front. When she looked down to read the nametag, her suspicions were confirmed. William Afton. One of the owners of Fredbear's, and the owner of the office she somehow woke up in. 

[Y/N] did her decent research on any of the mysteries surrounding Fazbear Entertainment, and that included the enigmatic business man standing before her. She could remember his visage fairly well. She saw it pretty recently in fact, in a discussion forum about his dissapearance, a render of the missing posters that filled the streets of Hurricane.

That picture... Disturbed her.

He was wearing a broad, warm smile that would first make you think him as approachable, but it didn't reach his eyes. They looked distant at the very least, filled with disdain and exhaustion for the world around him at the most. Heavy, dark eyebags weighed down his face, causing him to look years older than he actually was. His wrinkles were more pronounced than the one in front of her now, especially near the eyebrows – the mark of a man who spent much of his life furrowing his brows from stress or anger hidden behind closed doors. Having said all this, he was still attractive to a lot of people. He had that inexplicable charming essence that could bend even someone who was wary initially to his will, but it wasn't really something she could focus on. How come almost nobody ever commented on how... Sad he looked?

The man standing in front of her and the one she remembered were one in the same, but in the details they differed. He looked significantly younger than he did right before his dissapearance, about a decade give or take, and his demeanor seemed to be more... Relaxed. Comfortable in the world around him, not absolutely done with everything.

This William Afton's face was clean-shaven, unlike the patchy facial hair he had at the time of his disappearance, and those concerning, dark eyebags were nowehere to be seen. Only a few strands of hair were greyed, along the bangs that framed the top part of his face. The wrinkles around the eyebrows and below the eyes were fainter than in that picture, just barely noticeable only when his brows would lower in thought, or when his lips would move when speaking.

And that's what he did now. His brows furrowed as he waited patiently for a response.

But she was speechless. [Y/N] felt even more lost just looking at him than did in the literal sense. It was likely that William Afton was dead in the year she came from. A dead man. She was speaking to a dead man. That was a hard pill to swallow, especially after the mind-boggling revealation she had earlier.

"Miss?" He tried to attract her attention. Now his tone was firmer as if to ground her, smile put aside and replaced with a confused frown.

"I-I..." She began in a stammer. "I'm fine." A lie. A blatant one. Even though she said that line so many times, enough that she was well-practiced in it, she couldn't put on a good performance now. She looked towards him to check if he bought it. Obviously, he did not. His expression didn't shift the slightest bit.

"...Your eyes are red, love."

She averted her eyes and looked away onto the expanse of the restaurant, not willing to look at him.

"I- Have seasonal allergies." She lied, instinctively. He raised a brow as if to ask if she thought he believed it.

"No need for that, there's no shame in crying. I'm sure you have a good reason for it."

She did.

"Did you come here to wait for someone?"

Did she?

In a way.

Someone to help her, when she couldn't help herself.

It was like her tongue was cut off. She couldn't respond. It was an embarrassing situation, an adult woman acting like a lost child. How could she ask for help so pathetically? Her pride wouldn't allow her, but her fear of being alone kept her feet planted where they were.

She still could feel her eyes stinging painfully, and her legs felt weak and shaky just from the effort of standing.

Suddenly, she heard him step closer, his black business shoes clacking against the well-cleaned diner floors. When an arm wrapped around her shoulder, she rejected it instinctively, trying to step away from the contact. But his grip grew just a bit firmer, enough so to deter her from trying.

"Let's get you some water. How does that sound?" William asked her this, but didn't wait for even a second, already beginning to lead her in the direction of an employee's only door. 

[Y/N] had a gut wrenching feeling that she was making a horrible mistake, letting herself be dragged away from sight like this. But where should she go? What was she meant to do? Afton was the only person who saw how lost and terrified she was, and reacted with something other than discomfort or annoyance. She saw a hand reached out to her while she grasped for land, and grabbed it without a second thought.

《¤》Turn to page 40.

Chapter Text

The sound of their soft steps against the floor was the only thing she could hear. It was impossible to look at anywhere but the floor, not at him, no, that was impossible. It must’ve been cleaned recently,  because she could see her reflection in it perfectly well. 

His reflection. 

She was staring at the ground specifically to avoid looking at him, and it seemed like she couldn't even have that.

Afton's footsteps suddenly came to a halt, making the woman's gaze flicker to him. He pulled the door to his office open, and held it in place for her. He was smiling easily, eyes focused on her as he waited for her to walk in. Putting aside her very reasonable reservations, she pushed herself to enter.

When she was in there earlier that day, she really didn't expect to ever return. She also didn't think she'd be able to meet the man with the name on that metal plate on the desk, yet here she was now, being coerced into following him. He led her to the black couch at the far end of the room.

"Please wait here a moment. I won't be long."

And with that, the soft-spoken man left the room, gently closing the door behind him. She stared at it, face blank. When she allowed herself to look away, she saw the black wall clock hanging on the wall, which ticked on mercilessly. The passage of time felt excrutiatingly slow, but somehow, those ticks and tocks felt far too loud and far too frequent for her to be comfortable. She restlessly bobbed a leg up and down and drummed her fingers on it, creating a rhythm of her own that she preferred.

The sound was an unwanted presence, it felt like it was invading her space.

But would she rather have complete silence right now, for her to just have her own thoughts to hear?

...No, this was better. Noise was better. At least it was some form of company. She looked again at the door, considering how she felt in Afton's presence. She... Didn't know how to feel about it. Not yet.

《¤》Turn to page 41.

Chapter Text

It felt like decades, but in reality it was only two minutes. Afton came in with a plastic cup of water in his lanky hands, and sat himself down next to her, so close that their shoulders nearly brushed up against each other.

"There we are."

He inched the cup towards her. She hesitated, looking at it with inherent distrust. He raised a brow.

"What's wrong? Did I bring you the wrong flavor?" 

It took a solid second or two for her to even realize he was joking. With the serious expression and the flat tone, it was frankly a bit hard to tell. She allowed herself to laugh, even though her voice was a bit strained from her nerves and earlier weeping.

"No, the flavor's just fine, thank you."

He began gently smiling again.

"Good to hear."

Quiet overtook the room for a few moments as she sipped on the water. It was cold, unpleasantly so against her throat, but she tried her best to not express that discomfort. Afton sat silently next to her, leaned forward slightly with his hands folded in front of him, elbows planted on his legs for support. His eyes drifted to the desk for a short second and she followed the look. Nothing was on it anymore, nothing but that small white rabbit sculpture and the nameplate. She felt an anxious knot tightening in her chest. Coming here was possibly the most counter-intuitive way to calm her nerves. All it did was remind her of that yellow mascot, and of the close call she had nearly being caught by him.

"...You look troubled, still." He pointed to the obvious. For different reasons now, yes.

"How about we talk about it? Do you think that would help?"

[Y/N] pondered on it. Whether it helped or not couldn’t matter less, nobody would ever believe her. Not unless they were seriously naive, and something was telling her that wasn’t William. 

“I’m sorry, I really don’t think I can talk about it. I-it’s a lot to get into.” Quite the understatement she made there.

William ruminated on those words.

“Are you sure?” He softly insisted. 
She didn’t reply but shifted uncomfortably just a bit further away from him. That seemed to be clue enough that he overstepped. "I'm very sorry, I don’t mean to pry... I asked because I could be of help, potentially." She thought about it. She did need help, desperately so, and there before her was someone kindly offering it. It was as tempting as it was suspicious. [Y/N] tried to hold herself back from developing a jaded mindset about life, but it was actively difficult, when so often she heard about the godawful things that happened before to people in need that asked for help from a stranger. Vulnerability was a dangerous thing to show.

Her stomach lurched. Having said all that, what else can she do, really?

“I just…” She asked herself how to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t make her look like a lunatic. “It’s a lot to get into, but- A lot changed today and-” His gaze was on her, and that just made focusing on her own words all the more difficult. “I don’t know what to do.” Her voice broke as she made her conclusion. “I’m new here and I don’t have anywhere to go. There’s nothing…” Her head felt heavy, a knot forming in her throat. A brand new bath of tears spawned in her eyes. “There’s nothing I recognize here. I don’t know anybody here. I don't have... Anything...” Shame filled her chest, making it difficult to even breathe. Why was she saying this? Why why why why? There was nothing she hated more than making herself sound vulnerable and yet she was doing such a good job on painting a target on her back.

Afton became deathly quiet, and for a moment, he sat and watched the woman who was holding her tear stained face in her hands. When his hand appeared on her back, she was immediately aware of it, but couldn’t give much of a reaction. 

“It’ll be alright…” The man rubbed comforting circles on the top of her back.

"...."

Quiet embraced the room. Replying was difficult, but he didn't seem to ask for one, to her relief.

“I was in a similar position to you when I first moved here. Adjusting is difficult. But not impossible.” [Y/N] felt like laughing bitterly. She doubted that his experience was anything like hers.

“It doesn’t… Feel like it will be…” She croaked out, knowing fully well the objective truth was staring her in the face, laughing at her. Mocking her.

“......”

Afton got quiet, and his hand stopped. He sighed and retracted it, like he was burdened by a complex web of thoughts that he didn’t want to let anyone else in on.  Eventually, the silence cut short.

“Would you like to stay here for the night?”

《¤》Turn to page 42.

Chapter Text

Suddenly, her despair-filled train of thought halted, and so did the quiet tears. She looked up, and stared at him confused.

“In… Here?” [Y/N] asked incredulously. 

“Unfortunately I don’t have any guest rooms to offer you at home, and the house is rather crowded.” …Right. He does have three children. “But I’d be happy to allow you to sleep here for as long as you’d like, if you don’t mind sleeping on a couch.”

Immediately, she shook her head, the idea animating her. “No, no I don’t mind at all.” Something felt slightly untrue about that. It was objectively a dumb move to accept help from a total stranger, but she deeply did not want to sleep on the streets. The idea of sleeping somewhere so comfortable and nearly homey was so very tempting. He smiled, looking almost proud to have convinced her. 

“Wonderful. I should have a spare blanket somewhere here…” The man got up and went to the locker, rummaging through one of the boxes she nearly tripped over and broke her neck because of earlier that day. The air began feeling somehow colder without someone next to her. “Ta-da, there it is!” He proclaimed, presenting the blanket with something nearing theatrical zest. A rather out-of-character gesture, but then again, she hardly knew him, so how could she say? “Of course, you might not even need it. Feel free to put it aside if you’re too warm.” Those silver eyes flickered to her clothes. Yes, she did wear clothes that made her fairly warm already, but the comfort of a blanket was reason enough to keep it around.

“Thank you, I think I could use it.”

[Y/N] pulled the blanket towards her, enjoying the soft fabric against her skin. It had a floral scent of some sort, what exactly she didn't know. She wasn’t even sure when it was moved, but either her or him at some point placed the jacket she came in with on one of the arms of the sofa. She looked at him again, seeing how he was checking the clock on the wall.

“I should be checking on the new hire. I taught him how to close up shop, but it wouldn’t hurt to see if he’s doing things properly-”

“W-Wait.” [Y/N] called out, making Afton stop in his tracks. He looked back at her with a raised brow. “Um… I wanted to ask something. If you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead.” The man waited patiently for her to say it, his feet now planted on the ground.

《▪︎》What do you want to ask?
•Do you usually allow strangers to sleep in your office overnight?
《¤》Turn to page 21.

•You said you were new here once. When did you move here?
《¤》Turn to page 31.

•Would your business partner be okay with leaving me here overnight?
《¤》Turn to page 46.

•Why are you being so nice to me?
《¤》Turn to page 48.

•Is it okay if I stay here longer than one night?
《¤》Turn to page 44.

•What’s it like owning Fredbear’s?
《¤》Turn to page 45.

•Will you be staying too?
《¤》Turn to page 49.

•Do you trust me enough to keep me here?
《¤》Turn to page 50.

•I heard you and your business partner perform here as the animatronics. Is that true?
《¤》Turn to page 52.

•What is your family like?
《¤》Turn to page 53.

Once you’re done asking three questions, turn to page 43.

Chapter Text

“I’ll be off. I’ll come back in a bit, alright? Excuse me.” Those were his parting words before he backed out of the room, closing the door gently. She told herself to say something else, but the words died in her throat before they could come out. Again, she was alone, and for how long she did not know. Still, now after talking to him a bit and taking a breather, she’d gotten a tad more lucid. Being alone still felt awful, but it was more manageable. 

As the seconds ticked away she wondered if she had enough to take a significant look around. For a second she considered leaving the office, but then, she could potentially run into another employee, which she didn’t feel great about. The mere idea of awkwardly trying to explain the frankly absurd concept that William Afton the successful business owner welcomed her into his office and is letting her sleep there was already making her antsy. But staying where she was had the same effect.

《▪︎》What will you do?
•Sit and wait for William
《¤》Turn to page 51.

•Take a look around the office
《¤》Turn to page 55.

•Take a look around outside the office
《¤》Turn to page 58.

Chapter Text

Is it okay if I stay here for more than one night?

Afton’s eyes travelled to the wall nearby. He mulled over it while she internally begged fate to allow it to happen. “Yes, you’d need a bit more than just one day to get back on your feet, right? Of course, you can stay as long as you need. As long as you clear the room during the day, of course, so I could focus on my work.” There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she couldn’t just awkwardly sit there as he filled out potentially confidential paperwork. She understood that perfectly well.

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”

《¤》You can ask three questions in total, including the first one. Return to page 42.

Chapter Text

What’s it like owning Fredbear’s?

He sighed and smiled nostalgically. “A dream come true, truly. I never expected I’d have the good fortune of what I have now. It’s a joy sharing my creations with the next generation.” [Y/N] got an awful sense of deja vu from hearing that, the lines he’d spew to the TV interviewer running through her mind. Afton seemed to be a gentle, caring person after interacting with him, but hearing the same words put together in nearly the same manner but rearranged made her consider that all of it was an act for PR’s sake, too. He sounded like a robot running through lines of script.

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”

《¤》You can ask three questions in total, including the first one. Return to page 42.

Chapter Text

He hummed. “Henry Emily?” Only one blink later, he made up his mind on what to answer. “He’s hardly here these days anyhow.” The man shrugged, a rather out-of-character scowl on his face. “...Too bloody busy with his Freddy Fazbear’s to…” It was just a low mumble under his breath, his gaze was lowered to the ground, but quickly, he caught himself on it, and smiled yet again. “Ahem. Excuse me. I was saying… He most likely wouldn’t know to begin with. But even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. I own the building as much as he does. Plus it’s my office. It’d be rather funny if he tried to stop me…” He said this, and yet, no hint of humor laced his voice. [Y/N] shifted uncomfortably, feeling the newborn tension pulse through the air. 

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”

《¤》You can ask three questions in total, including the first one. Return to page 42.

Chapter Text

[to be added!]

Chapter Text

Why are you being so nice to me?

“My, you don’t like it?” He asked with a playful tone, quirking a brow. “Shall I be more mean instead?” [Y/N] was quick to shake her head, assuring him she did not prefer that. “I’m just joking, relax. In all seriousness, there’s nothing I could do but help you.” He maintained such a serious expression that what he was saying seemed more inherently believable. “I can’t stand seeing someone defenseless cry… I needed to do something. I’m just glad I could.” She sat and let the words sink in, trying to discern how she felt about them. He sounded incredibly sincere, so her instinct was to believe him. But then again, sincerity can always be faked, and charismatic people like Afton would be more than capable of it.

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?

《¤》You can ask three questions in total, including the first one. Return to page 42.

Chapter Text

Will you be staying, too?

Afton shook his head no. “My apologies, I really wish I could keep you company, but I’ll need to be heading home today. I put a lot of time and work into keeping this place running, but balancing it with family time is very important to me.” His answer was firm and unwavering. [Y/N] respected that he needed to spend time with his family, but she also felt a pang of dread thinking about how she’d need to be here the whole night, in complete silence, just her and her thoughts. Noticing her shift, he spoke up again. “If you find yourself bored, you’re more than welcome to help yourself from any of the books here.” He motions to the bookshelf nearby to the sofa. Hell, if she was bored and depressed enough, she might even read that flavorless business magazine sitting on that very coffee table before her.

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”

《¤》You can ask three questions in total, including the first one. Return to page 42.

Chapter Text

Do you trust me enough to keep me here?

《¤》Subtract 10 points to William Afton's relationship level.

Mister Afton’s look turned into a subtle glare. “I’m no fool, miss. If I didn’t trust you, why would I leave you here unsupervised?” He readjusted his posture, resting one of his hands in his pocket. It truly seemed like she hit a nerve with her question. But still like clockwork, he smiled again, as meaningless as the expression seemed. “Just as you trusted me enough to follow me, I trust you enough to keep you here.” That smile felt sharp like a cleaver. The woman felt herself almost regretting bringing it up to begin with.

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”

《¤》You can ask three questions in total, including the first one. Return to page 42.

Chapter Text

[Y/N] sat oh-so patiently waiting for Afton to come back. Outwardly, she was patient. On the inside, she became more and more restless the further she waited. The only color that popped in the office was the vibrant green of the plants, and the cartoony calendar hanging on the wall. It made her think of Henry Emily, the second owner, and that in turn made her ponder over whether he was the one in the Fredbear suit, or if it was some other employee instead. Or maybe he was in his office, in the room right across from there? She couldn’t quite hear anything muffled from beyond the door, so most likely not.

….

Most likely, she was one of the last people there. Most likely, she was the only person there. 

Except for him.

The idea of being alone in the building with Afton was making her queasy for some reason. But even worse was the possibility of him leaving and locking up without even returning like he said he would. [Y/N] had no food, and she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to take any from the break room that she supposed must’ve existed or the kitchen which no doubt existed. Would William pardon her if she took some?

《¤》Turn to page 59.

Chapter Text

I heard you and your business partner perform here as the animatronics. Is that true?

Afton raised his right hand and waved it left and right as if to say “kind of”. “Ever since the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria branch opened up, performing ourselves has become difficult to arrange. Since then we’ve started employing others to play the roles of our characters.” He answered in a nearly robotic fashion, eyes cold and face inexpressive. But there was something tense in his body language that clued her in on something happening behind those silver eyes of his. [Y/N] felt confused hearing that reply. She was nearly certain that the mascot that walked in his office was worn by William Afton himself. Sure, their mannerisms were nearly completely different, their accents not matching, but whenever Spring Bonnie would whisper to her, it’d be William’s voice that she’d hear. Not to mention those peculiar grey eyes, the look inside of them… It was unmistakable. He analyzed her reaction, looking curious. Suddenly, as if an important realization dawned on him, a sparkle appeared in his eyes and his mouth stretched into a wide, satisfied smile. “Why is it that you ask?” There was an undercurrent of playfulness in his tone, delight too. When she quickly told him that she was merely curious, he hummed. “Of course. Of course you were curious.” And after he said this, complete silence came over him. Over them both.

…….

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”

《¤》You can ask three questions in total, including the first one. Return to page 42.

Chapter Text

What is your family like?

The man seemed slightly taken off-guard by the sudden question about his family, like it didn’t sit well with him somehow. Just as [Y/N] worriedly thought it was too early to ask about his personal life, he began to answer. And he did it smiling brightly. “I have three beautiful children and I love them more than anything.” At first, she aww’d and smiled back, finding the admission rather heartwarming, but then she realized… His wife was noticeably left out of the equation. She knew that they divorced at a certain point, but she was fairly sure it hadn’t happened yet. Still, asking for answers on something delicate like that would be going too far. She didn’t want to play her luck and perhaps make him want to kick her out.

“Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”

《¤》You can ask three questions in total, including the first one. Return to page 42.

Chapter Text

Just looking around.

“Oh? Nowhere specific?” He allowed her inside first before walking in and shutting the door. Sneaking a glance made it obvious that he suspected her somewhere deep down, of what exactly wasn’t clear. She could faintly tell he was hiding something out of sight that he slipped out of his pocket.

“...I was feeling pretty restless.”

His expression turned more gentle at that.

“That’s understandable. Whatever you’re going through, it must be pretty significant to have affected you in such a way.” William phrased it nearly as a lure to get [Y/N] to share the reason for her woes, but she wasn’t having any of it.

“It is.” Was her singular reply.

He hummed then paused.

“...Please refrain from walking about in employee-only areas without me accompanying you. Alright? I’m sure you can understand why. Employee-only section of the building and all."

She made an unsure face for a second. Didn’t that former employee just immediately assume she was looking to be employed and didn’t ask any questions?

“Right, sorry.” And yet, she still apologized. Something in that hard expression of his made her inclined to just nod along.

“Not an issue, again, your restlessness is reasonable.” Sincerity didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

《¤》Turn to page 60.

Chapter Text

Deciding to get up and stretch her legs a bit, [Y/N] walked towards the desk in a near zombie-like trance, recalling how Spring Bonnie stuffed away all those important papers in the desk. Papers she could’ve read through in their entirety, but didn’t. Well, her priorities were a little different earlier that day, weren’t they? Now that she had some sort of line of support, she allowed herself the luxury of feeling regret for even less important things. She had the man who she wanted to learn more about right with her, but after a bit of questioning, she already concluded he probably wasn’t a terribly reliable source of information. So the office really could tell a lot more about him than he ever could.

But the office… It was all too clean. Most of everything that told any sort of story was wiped and locked away.

Not even fully believing this would get her anywhere, she walked over to the locker. But to her shock, the door to it wasn’t locked. She raised her brow. Surely, he must’ve left it open for some purpose. William wasn’t careless. One thing she can tell with certainty is that he was actually very careful about his every word and every move. So then, what did this say about him?

Maybe it was a test.

. . .

Now feeling a pit of anxiety forming in her stomach, she closed the door, unwilling to even risk making a mark that would make him realize she touched it. The moment she walked away, it felt like a huge boulder was raised from her shoulders. What was with that strange, familiar oppressive air that suddenly closed in when she approached the locker?

Maybe she should have a sit down and wait for him patiently.

《¤》Turn to page 51.

Chapter Text

I wanted to look for you.

《¤》Add 50 points to William Afton's relationship level.

William gave her a playful look and an arch of the brow.

“Did you, now? Missed me already?” He laughed softly, reaching past her to open the office door and allowing her in first. “How sweet. Even though I was only away for a short time.” [Y/N] wasn’t entirely sure how to reply to make herself sound any bit less like a clingy child. She could detect that he wasn’t just teasing her – though that was definitely part of it – it seemed like she genuinely did stroke his ego a bit with those few simple words.

“Just… Try to not wander about too much, alright? It is an employee only area, afterall.”

“...Makes sense, I’ll keep that in mind.” She awkwardly cleared her throat.

《¤》Turn to page 60.

Chapter Text

Am I not allowed to?

《¤》Subtract 50 points from William Afton's relationship level.

Afton’s sweet smile dropped in an instant, being replaced by a cold, dead stare. “You’re not.” His tone was eerily emotionless. “Not normally. It’s an employee only area, miss. You know this, yes?” That question was doused in condescension that she found frankly pretty irritating, even though what he was saying was kind of fair. “I made an exception for you. But I’m not supposed to be leaving you wander here.”

“R-Right…” [Y/N] began stuttering, her shoulders slumping. “My bad."

The two of them walked back inside the office, and he didn’t reply. That was for a few excruciating moments, ones that felt like they stretched on forever. Suddenly, like he consciously flipped a switch with frightening ease, he smiled again. “Not a problem. I’m sure you were just curious, weren’t you?” The intonation on the "curious" felt oddly heavy, but he seemed happy to let the subject die. Thank God. The topic should end now, before she’d risk saying something else to piss him off.

《¤》Turn to page 61.

Chapter Text

Take a look around outside of the office:

Surely, just a quick peak wouldn’t hurt. Afton couldn’t be expecting her to wait here while doing absolutely nothing.

Upon leaving the room, she spotted someone wearing a duffel bag, clearly an employee, on the other side of the hallway. He seemed to have just left one of the rooms. She couldn’t get a good glimpse of it before the door shut, but he got a good glimpse of her. He stared at her wide-eyed, and then at Afton’s door, making the connection quickly.

[Y/N] had the innate instinct to retreat into the office like a scared rabbit, but she was frozen still. The man must’ve been 30-something, with auburn hair and blue eyes. He was wearing an uniform identical to the nodding yes-man who was next to William earlier, except that his cap wasn’t present. His expression was tired and dejected, like life just couldn’t give him a break. “Did you come for an interview?” He asked, voice a bit raspy. It was a question that normally should be easy to answer, but her circumstances were far from normal. She resorted to nodding nearly imperceptively, realizing it was the most reasonable explanation. He reacted in a rather strange way, with a heavy sigh and a shake of the head. He approached her and spoke in a low voice. “I really don’t recommend you work here. I know you probably won’t value a stranger’s opinion much, but hear me out for a second. Caligula over there makes working here look like it’s a breeze and that we’re all just friends here, but he’s a fucking lunatic who couldn’t care less for our safety.” Her brows lowered in confusion. What was he referring to exactly? “He’s so proud of those robots of his but all they are are glorified death traps-” 

As he spoke, a tall shadow closed in on him. Fear instantly filled his eyes like he had just seen the face of a ghost, but he was quick to disguise it and turn his head to the side. [Y/N] turned around to see none other than William Afton with his hands folded neatly behind him. His head was pointed slightly upwards and he looked down at him with a poisonous smile.

“Ah, Peterson. I see you still haven’t changed out of your uniform.” Afton’s horrifically calm voice rang out. “Have you grown attached to it?” He laughed, lightheartedly. The other man – Peterson, apparently – remained unamused.

“Why would I? I was just about to get changed, actually.”

“Really?” The purple clad man tilted his head to the side. “To me it looked like you were chatting with this young woman over here instead. I suppose I was mistaken... I’m so very sorry.” He spoke in mock guilt. “Well then, what are you waiting for?” Suddenly, there was a sharper, frankly impatient undercurrent to the message he was delivering. The auburn haired man tsked in annoyance, but other than that said nothing more to him, probably in fear of not angering him. To her though, he spoke lowly.

“Give what I said some thought.”

And with that, he left [Y/N] alone with Afton.

“What were the two of you speaking of? I’m rather curious.” He probed. Did he not hear it, himself? Thanks to his surprisingly conspicuous gait, it was pretty likely that he listened in on them and waited before he decided to butt in. 

“Oh um- Something about the animatronics.”

His eyebrow twitched. “Right. Despite him knowing nothing of robotics, he’s been criticizing my design choices for a long time now. And he seemed like such a promising employee at first…” He trailed off, sighing in a disappointed manner as he went to open his office door. The woman’s mouth opened for a second without anything coming out. Approaching this was… Dicey. It was clear William’s animatronics were a big source of pride for him, and therefore a point of sensitivity. Before she could make up her mind on whether to even ask or not, William was the one to ask her something, stopping right in front of the entrance.

“Where were you off to?” He turned his head to her slightly.

“Uhhhh…”

《▪︎》What will you say?
•Just looking around.
《¤》Turn to page 54.

•I wanted to look for you.
《¤》Turn to page 56.

•Am I not allowed to?
《¤》Turn to page 57.

Chapter Text

Right as she was about to lose hope that he’d return like he said, footsteps neared the door and the man she was just thinking about greeted with his usual gleeful expression.

“I brought you something, miss.” William dramatically presented a packet in his hands, the one that he kept slightly behind him until that moment. It was a packet of biscuits. They looked incredibly appetizing, especially due to [Y/N]’s burdened mind. Something sweet would be a nice comfort. He walked over to her, and placed it on the coffee table.

“Ah, thank you so much.” She smiled politely, taking the packet in her hands. Oh. She recognized the brand. It was the kind that he must’ve bought often, because he had a whole stack full of empty ones in the trash can under the desk. 

“No problem at all. Hope it’s to your liking.”  

“I’m sure I’ll love it, thank you.”

Setting them back on the table, she paused for a moment, wondering if it was okay to ask.

“...Do you like sweets?”

Afton went quiet. He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, clearing his throat as he stood with his gaze to the side. “Yes. Does that come as a surprise?”

She laughed for a second, nervous. “A little. You do smell of black coffee.” 

The man looked pretty surprised at the forward comment. “Yes… Black coffee that I usually drink with those kinds of biscuits.” For some reason, he was acting uncharacteristically nervous, despite the topic being essentially inane small talk. “...It’s a habit I picked up from my youngest. He’s got a major sweet tooth. He always demands I eat with him whenever I buy him any chocolate or biscuits. It rubbed off on me, it seems.”

She smiled. “Well, nothing wrong with it. Liking sweets isn’t embarrassing.”

Something akin to surprise flashed on his face. But then,he buried it deep in the ground, under a saccharine smile. “Right. I agree completely. It’s just personal tastes, nothing more.”

….

“Did… Everything go well?”

“Hm?” He hummed like he wasn’t sure what she was talking about. It seemed like his mind was gone elsewhere. But then, before she could even open her mouth, he caught up and realized what she meant. “Oh, you mean with my new employee? Yes, he understood my instructions perfectly well. …Rather rare, honestly. The last lad in his position was a complete dunce, couldn’t listen to a thing that was said to him.” Afton couldn’t seem to help but spit out those vitriolic words, sneering at the mere thought of him. “Ah- I’m very sorry, miss. It’s rude to talk about something like that with someone I just met.” He hummed. “Speaking of which, you never mentioned your name. Neither have I, but between the two of us, I’m the one wearing a nametag.” He laughed, his words laced with a understated humor.

“Oh, right!” She exclaimed, feeling incredibly absent-minded for not thinking of introducing herself yet. “My name’s [Y/N].”

“[Y/N].” Afton tested her name out on his tongue slowly, like he was tasting a glass of wine. It felt strange to her ears. “...It suits you...” He muttered. Normally, she’d doubt that it’d be a compliment, if it weren’t for the genuinely fond look on his face. “Well, you already know who I am, but it’d be impolite if I didn’t introduce myself,” he got closer to her and leaned down again, shaking her hand firmly while flashing her that used car salesman smile. “I’m William Afton. A pleasure to make your aquaintence.” She sincerely did not like how he nearly crouched down like she was a child. Curse those genes of his for making him impossibly tall. It seemed like working in a place filled with children caused him to be a bit less used to talking to adults.

“Nice to meet you. Um… Afton, William? Will? What do you prefer?” She cycled through multiple options, looking for the right one.

“William is just fine.” He smiled wider. So, not close enough to go into nickname territory, yet not cold enough to be on last name basis… Interesting, she mused internally.

“William it is. Thank you again, William. I… I don’t know what I would’ve done if…”

He retracted his hand and backed away a bit, gaze averted. “Please don’t mention it. I did what I had to do.” The phrasing was… A bit odd, but she thought she understood the message, and it was probably a positive one. …Probably.

“The employees’ bathroom is just down the hall, first door on the left, the break room is all the way down the hall from the right. You’re more than welcome to go to either, but I’ll ask you to please refrain from being outside the office for too long tonight. The night guard will come by later and he’ll be on shift looking at the cameras, it’ll save us some trouble if you try to keep your stay here a secret.” [Y/N] gave a confused look. Is that… Right? She thought it wouldn’t be a problem for her to stay. He was the owner of the building, couldn’t he just tell everyone she’d be there? …Actually, perhaps the issue wouldn’t be that no one would let him, it’d be that word could spread, and that’d be bad optics for him. He does have a wife and children at home, it’d look rather suspicious that he was keeping some random young woman in his office overnight. So despite her initial confusion, she nodded in understanding.

“Sure, I get it. No problem. I’m feeling pretty exhausted anyway. I’ll probably fall asleep quickly.” She confirmed, and hearing that made William perk up, almost like he wasn’t expecting her to be so compliant.

“Lovely… I’m really glad we’re on the same page.” He inhaled, sharply, like he was bracing himself for something. “I should be going, then. I’ll come by first thing in the morning.” The Fredbear’s owner promised as he made his way to the door. He gave her one last long look filled with tense emotions she couldn’t quite make sense of. Maybe even he couldn’t. “Goodnight, [Y/N].” He said her name for the second time, and closed the door. She was alone again.

《¤》Turn to page 62.

Chapter Text

[Y/N] kept looking over at what he had in his hand while they were talking.

“Oh, wondering what I have here? Well, I brought you something, miss.” William finally handed it over. It was a packet of biscuits. They looked incredibly appetizing, especially due to [Y/N]’s burdened mind. Something sweet would be a nice comfort. He walked over to her, and placed it on the coffee table.

“Ah, thank you so much.” She smiled politely, taking the packet in her hands. Oh. She recognized the brand. It was the kind that he must’ve bought often, because he had a whole stack full of empty ones in the trash can under the desk. 

“No problem at all. Hope it’s to your liking.”  

“I’m sure I’ll love it, thank you.”

Setting them on the table, she paused for a moment, wondering if it was okay to ask.

“...Do you like sweets?”

Afton went quiet. He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, clearing his throat. He maintained eye-contact, still. “Yes. Does that come as a surprise?”

She laughed for a second, nervous. “A little. You do smell of black coffee.” 

The man looked pretty surprised at the forward comment and averted his gaze. “Yes… Black coffee that I usually drink with those kinds of biscuits.” For some reason, he was acting uncharacteristically nervous, despite the topic being essentially inane small talk. “...It’s a habit I picked up from my youngest. He’s got a major sweet tooth. He always demands I eat with him whenever I buy him any chocolate or biscuits. It rubbed off on me, it seems.”

She smiled. “Well, nothing wrong with it. Liking sweets isn’t embarrassing.”

Something akin to surprise flashed on his face. But then,he buried it deep in the ground, under a saccharine smile. “Right. I agree completely. It’s just personal tastes, nothing more.”

….

“Did… Everything go well?”

“Hm?” He hummed like he wasn’t sure what she was talking about. It seemed like his mind was gone elsewhere. But then, before she could even open her mouth, he caught up and realized what she meant. “Oh, you mean with my new employee? Yes, he understood my instructions perfectly well. …Rather rare, honestly. The last lad in his position was a complete dunce, couldn’t listen to a thing that was said to him.” Afton couldn’t seem to help but spit out those vitriolic words, sneering at the mere thought of him. “Ah- I’m very sorry, miss. It’s rude to talk about something like that with someone I just met.”

"No no, it's okay..." [Y/N] considered something for a second. "He really must be quick at learning, you didn't take long at all to come back."

He stayed silent for just a beat too long.

"I just revised what he needed to do, I already gave him training earlier today." He explained rapidly. “But nevermind him, you never mentioned your name. Neither have I, but between the two of us, I’m the one wearing a nametag.” He laughed, his words laced with an understated humor.

“Oh, right!” She exclaimed, feeling incredibly absent-minded for not thinking of introducing herself yet. “My name’s [Y/N].”

“[Y/N].” Afton tested her name out on his tongue slowly, like he was tasting a glass of wine. It felt strange to her ears. “...It suits you...” He muttered. Normally, she’d doubt that it’d be a compliment, if it weren’t for the genuinely fond look on his face. “Well, you already know who I am, but it’d be impolite if I didn’t introduce myself,” he got closer to her and leaned down again, shaking her hand firmly while flashing her that used car salesman smile. “I’m William Afton. A pleasure to make your aquaintence.” She sincerely did not like how he almost crouched down to her level like she was a child. Curse those genes of his for making him impossibly tall.8 It seemed like working in a place filled with children caused him to be a bit less used to talking to adults.

“Nice to meet you. Um… Afton, William? Will? What do you prefer?” She cycled through multiple options, looking for the right one.

“William is just fine.” He smiled wider. So, not close enough to go into nickname territory, yet not cold enough to be on last name basis… Interesting, she mused internally.

“William it is. Thank you again, William. I… I don’t know what I would’ve done if…”

He retracted his hand and backed away a bit, gaze averted. “Please don’t mention it. I did what I had to do.” The phrasing was… A bit odd, but she thought she understood the message, and it was probably a positive one. …Probably.

“The employees’ bathroom is just down the hall, first door on the left, the break room is all the way down the hall from the right. You’re more than welcome to go to either, but I’ll ask you to please refrain from being outside the office for too long tonight. The night guard will come by later and he’ll be on shift looking at the cameras, it’ll save us some trouble if you try to keep your stay here a secret.” [Y/N] gave a confused look. Is that… Right? She thought it wouldn’t be a problem for her to stay. He was the owner of the building, couldn’t he just tell everyone she’d be there? …Actually, perhaps the issue wouldn’t be that no one would let him, it’d be that word could spread, and it'd be bad optics for him. He does have a wife and children at home, it’d look rather suspicious that he was keeping some random young woman in his office overnight. So despite her initial confusion, she nodded in understanding.

“Sure, I get it. No problem. I’m feeling pretty exhausted anyway. I’ll probably fall asleep quickly.” She confirmed, and hearing that made William perk up, almost like he wasn’t expecting her to be so compliant.

“Lovely… I’m really glad we’re on the same page.” He inhaled, sharply, like he was bracing himself for something. “I should be going, then. I’ll come by first thing in the morning.” The Fredbear’s owner promised as he made his way to the door. He gave her one last long look filled with tense emotions she couldn’t quite make sense of. Maybe even he couldn’t. “Goodnight, [Y/N].” He said her name for the second time, and closed the door. She was alone again.

《¤》Turn to page 62.

Chapter Text

[Y/N] kept looking over at what William was holding.

"What do you have there?"

He hummed, hesitantly raising his hand. It was a packet of biscuits. "Here. Just in case you get hungry." He handed it over. They looked incredibly appetizing, especially due to [Y/N]’s burdened mind. Something sweet would be a nice comfort.

"Thank you." She studied the packaging briefly. Oh. She recognized the brand. It was the kind that he must’ve bought often, because he had a whole stack full of empty ones in the trash can under the desk. William did look a bit apprehensive to give them to her, that must be why. But regardless, he decided to give it to her anyway, which she appreciated.

“No problem at all."

Setting them on the table, she paused for a moment, wondering if it was okay to ask.

“...Do you like sweets?”

Afton went quiet, seeming suddenly uncomfortable, despite the inacous nature of the question. "I don't hate them, I suppose... They're nice to have on ocassion." She narrowed her eyes. On ocassion? Man had a whole war bunker's worth of emptied packets in his trash, for Pete's sake.

“Well, nothing wrong with it. Liking sweets isn’t embarrassing.” [Y/N] tried to assure him, but it didn't seem to have the intended affect. It only made William seem to disengage more, his gaze averted.

"Yes... It's just down to personal tastes." He kept his eyes averted for a few more seconds, and then he probably realized how his change in behavior affected the tone in the room, because he pulled a smile right back on. "I do hope you'll like it. Let me know if there's anything else you'd rather eat, I could bring something over from-"

She shook her head. "Oh, no no this is alright! No need."

......

“Did… Everything go well?”

“Hm?” He hummed like he wasn’t sure what she was talking about. It seemed like his mind was gone elsewhere. But then, before she could even open her mouth, he caught up and realized what she meant. “Oh, you mean with my new employee? Yes, he understood my instructions perfectly well. …Rather rare, honestly. The last lad in his position was a complete dunce, couldn’t listen to a thing that was said to him.” Afton couldn’t seem to help but spit out those vitriolic words, sneering at the mere thought of him. “Ah- I’m very sorry, miss. It’s rude to talk about something like that with someone I just met. Speaking of which, you never mentioned your name. Neither have I, but between the two of us, I’m the one wearing a nametag.” He smiled, his words laced with a subtle humor.

“Oh, right!” She exclaimed, feeling incredibly absent-minded for not thinking of introducing herself yet. “My name’s [Y/N].”

“[Y/N].” Afton tested her name out on his tongue slowly, like he was tasting a glass of wine. It felt strange to her ears. “...It suits you...” He muttered with a complicated expression, something of a mix of apprehension and genuine fondness. “Well, you already know who I am, but it’d be impolite if I didn’t introduce myself,” he got closer to her and leaned down again, shaking her hand firmly while flashing her that used car salesman smile. “I’m William Afton. A pleasure to make your aquaintence.” She sincerely did not like how he nearly crouched down like she was a child. Curse those genes of his for making him impossibly tall. It seemed like working in a place filled with children caused him to be a bit less used to talking to adults.

“Nice to meet you. Um… Afton, William? Will? What do you prefer?” She cycled through multiple options, looking for the right one.

“William is just fine.” He smiled wider. So, not close enough to go into nickname territory, yet not cold enough to be on last name basis… Interesting, she mused internally.

“William it is. Thank you again, William. I… I don’t know what I would’ve done if…”

He retracted his hand and backed away a bit, gaze averted. “Please don’t mention it. I did what I had to do.” The phrasing was… A bit odd, but she thought she understood the message, and it was probably a positive one. …Probably.

“The employees’ bathroom is just down the hall, first door on the left, the break room is all the way down the hall from the right. You’re more than welcome to go to either, but I’ll ask you to please refrain from being outside the office for too long tonight. The night guard will come by later and he’ll be on shift looking at the cameras, it’ll save us some trouble if you try to keep your stay here a secret.” [Y/N] gave a confused look. Is that… Right? She thought it wouldn’t be a problem for her to stay. He was the owner of the building, couldn’t he just tell everyone she’d be there? …Actually, perhaps the issue wouldn’t be that no one would let him, it’d be that word could spread, and that’d be bad optics for him. He does have a wife and children at home, it’d look rather suspicious that he was keeping some random young woman in his office overnight. So despite her initial confusion, she nodded in understanding.

“Sure, I get it. No problem. I’m feeling pretty exhausted anyway. I’ll probably fall asleep quickly.” She confirmed, and hearing that made William perk up, almost like he wasn’t expecting her to be so compliant.

“Lovely… I’m really glad we’re on the same page.” He inhaled, sharply, like he was bracing himself for something. “I should be going, then. I’ll come by first thing in the morning.” The Fredbear’s owner promised as he made his way to the door. He gave her one last long look filled with tense emotions she couldn’t quite make sense of. Maybe even he couldn’t. “Goodnight, [Y/N].” He said her name for the second time, and closed the door. She was alone again.

《¤》Turn to page 62.

Chapter Text

……..

…………

Damn. As comfortable as that couch looked, sleeping on it just wasn’t easy. She realized that it was definitely very comfortable, but as a seat, certainly not a bed. There was barely any room to roll around, without, say, throwing yourself into a glass coffee table and damaging both yourself and it. From the two she didn’t know what was preferable. If she damaged it, she could suffer Afton’s wrath. Which didn’t look like it existed at first glance, but it very well could. If she hurt herself badly enough, then maybe she’d be able to have a longer, comfortable stay — in a hospital bed. She laughed dryly at the macabre joke. But honestly, was it even one?

Finally, the woman allowed herself to spring up in a sitting position, the blanket still clinging to her a bit, stacked together against her lap. She expected to be a bit too warm with it on, but she felt pretty okay. As childish as it was, the purple piece of cloth comforted her. She swore it smelled faintly of lavender.

[Y/N] sighed, heavier than she ever had or possibly even ever will. The room was dark, as dark as she felt ill. The lack of a window meant that not even soft moonlight could trickle through to her, like it could in her dinky old apartment. Though, considering she was in the past, wouldn’t it be a futuristic apartment? She chuckled again. That made it sound a lot cooler than it actually was. Regardless of the leaks from the upstairs neighbors, and the loud noises of partying and… Other activities from nextdoor neighbors, and regardless of the abnormally large rat she spotted scurrying through the apartment building halls one late night a week or so ago, she yearned for that place. Yearned for home. This was not home. Neither for Afton, nor for herself. She stared at the wall ahead, or at least, she was fairly sure she was staring at the wall. It was hard to tell. Closing her eyes slowly became more favorable to her. If it was so dark she couldn’t see, why keep your eyes open? And so she closed them, leaning back on the couch. She tried to ease her breathing, hoping that would translate to her emotions easing as well. But oh, it felt fucking ridiculous. That this whole thing started from her clinging onto some silly childhood memories of hiding in ball pits. Or… Was that what caused it? She remembered wanting to walk away, but what held her back? Some words imprinted in small text against the interior of the ball pit, something that most people couldn’t care less about. They’d walk away, and get along with their day. But no. She wasn’t normal. She just needed to know. Needed to know the most useless bullshit information.

[Y/N] groaned, throwing the blanket off of her. She immediately felt its absence, yearning for it to come back, too. But at that point, she might as well go turn on the light and look around. She got up, feeling up the wall so she could get to the switch without causing any of the poor furniture any injuries. The light felt blinding at first, but then comforting. It was the weaker, warmer kind, the kind that she recalled filling the entirety of her grandmother’s house. If it was one of those colder bulbs, her head would probably hurt all the more now.

There were a few points of interest she could check out.

《▪︎》What would you like to do?
•Go to the break room
《¤》Turn to page 64.

•Go to the employee’s bathroom
《¤》Turn to page 64....... Again?

Chapter Text

[Y/N] felt pulled to look closer. Afterall, she could find something that could help her, right?

She expected to find office supplies like pens or paperclips, but anything that she could potentially use to break a lock was gone. He must’ve buried them in the drawers. Which were also locked. “Well that’s great.” She mumbled to herself sardonically. There goes her attempt at breaking out. One could only hope she was just being paranoid and he didn’t somehow lock her in, because there didn’t seem to be anything she could use in the entirety of the office.

......

She stayed there. Why? She stayed there standing upright, staring at the locker like she was challenging it. There was something that drew her in. On the compartment on top, she could see glimpses of a book shrouded in shadow, shunned away from the rest of the literature. What was that doing there? It was the only book in the locker. It seemed to be rather thick, a good deal longer than your average book. Maybe it got misplaced? …Probably not. William would notice it, most likely, he wasn’t careless with his surroundings. Then it was put away with a purpose.

A purpose…

Well, it didn’t matter. There were bigger things to concern herself over.

........

......

....

Without even realizing, [Y/N] was already reaching for it, pulling it down to eye-level. It wouldn't hurt to take a quick look! Autobiography of a Yogi, it read. Oh. She heard of that book. Very briefly, but still, heard of it. It was a new copy, in pristine condition, like it hasn’t been touched by human hands more than once or twice. 

...Hm, apparently, it was printed in 1982, so it most likely was bought a year ago. Was it even read one single time? 

She opened it. On the first page in the corner was written a little message in dainty, feminine looking handwriting:

“For my sweet Will. This book really helped me, I hope it’ll help you. That is, if you can pull yourself away from your work, of course! I wish you your best birthday yet.

-Love, Mint”

[Y/N] squinted her eyes and tiled her head. “Hm… The wife?” She asked herself. The message was very cute. That woman seemed sweet, though she didn’t really research much about her. William didn’t really talk about her either, did he? She opened the book, immediately finding one passage that caught her eye.

“Sir, it is lamentable that mass agricultural development is not speeded by fuller use of your marvelous mechanisms. Would it not be easily possible to employ some of them in quick laboratory experiments to indicate the influence of various types of fertilizers on plant growth?

You are right. Countless uses of Bose instruments will be made by future generations. The scientist seldom knows contemporaneous reward; it is enough to possess the joy of creative service.”

The heavy pressure on her chest only grew the further in she’d read. She tried to assure herself that it’s just her anxiety acting up – she’s felt fear for no reason countless times before, so what’s to say this wasn’t it? But by the time she got to the end of the paragraph, it got to the point that she grew ill and dizzy. Did what she read affect her in some unexplainable, subconscious way? Was the page laced with anthrax? Whatever it was, she suddenly did not want to even look at that book anymore, as if in fear that it would dissolve her hands. She pushed it back in its place, taking a big step back. 

That was when it started. 

She could hear a high-pitched, jarbled series of sounds somewhere in the distance with no clear idea of where. It sounded like it could be human speech, but it wasn’t a language she could understand, nor could hope to learn. Horrifying giggles joined the chorus, getting progressively louder and louder. It wouldn't stop. Wouldn't stop. Shut up shut up shut up shut up Shut up shut up shut up shut up Shut up shut up shut up shut up Shut up shut up shut up shut up Shut up shut up shut up shut up Shut up shut up shut up shut up

Why won’t it shut up?

Her head felt like it was splitting in half, senses filled with sounds of static, voices and laughter. She wished she could throw away this head and get a new one, one that wouldn’t fail her. Then, her vision changed. First dark spots danced in her sight, and rapidly, the whole world drained itself of all light, shape and color. Breathing harshly, the woman tried to grab where she remembered the locker door to be, yet did not find it. She fell to her feet, yet she couldn’t feel solid ground beneath her. There was nothing.

But her.

She was the only thing left in the world.

Would she-

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|          END OF DAY 1.        |
  –———————–––––––

LOADING NIGHT 1, PLEASE STAND BY...

Chapter Text

[Y/N] felt like she needed to get out of there. Something felt… Oppressive, nearly damaging in the air. There wasn’t an answer to why that could be immediately pointed to, other than her general state of unease. So, she grabbed on the handle, and pushed.

….

Pushed.

Pushed.

Push push push push-

Why wasn’t it opening?!

An ancestral fear flooded her senses immediately, a disbelieving exhale leaving her lips. Did he lock her in? Or did someone else? But she didn’t hear anything! No footsteps, no locking noise, after William had left, she was completely alone. She should know whether there was one, that aforementioned anxiety had the convenient silver lining of making her much more aware of her surroundings than she usually would be.

“Crap crap crap…” 

He must’ve. [Y/N] should’ve known something like this would happen. Should’ve known someone so clearly two-faced in a position of power would just take advantage of her trust. She felt like such, such an idiot, and that feeling was crushing. Somehow, the shame of being fooled was more dizzying than the fear of why he’d want to lock her there to begin with.

……..

Why would he?

To hurt her, somehow. That was her immediate thought, but how? Starve her? Torture her? Surely, he’d need to use that office the very next day. If he was going to kidnap someone, it’d make more sense to choose some place else that was more private. Her breathing began easing as she grasped onto logic for comfort. Then, if she didn’t even hear anyone walk by to lock her in to begin with, and she would’ve clearly heard Afton locking the door if he did so before leaving, what should the conclusion be?

“It’s got to be stuck, right…?” She mumbled to herself, beginning to pace in the office while contemplating. If it was, she could get help in the morning. Shouldn’t she just wait patiently for sleep to take her worries away? Tomorrow it would be okay.

Tomorrow it would…

She sighed shakily. Self-assurance wouldn’t help one bit. Doubt would still be in the back of her mind no matter what.

It was obvious… How little trust she put in him. Despite accepting help from him, despite looking like she did believe he was well intentioned, she really didn’t deep down.

Maybe… Maybe she should look around. Again. God, not this again. Was he playing with her? Was this one big game to him? Or was she losing her mind, knee-deep in paranoia? Questions drove her mad. Didn’t stop her from asking them, though. Never.

[Y/N] took in every possible point of interest in the room, and singled it down to the following:

《▪︎》Where would you like to look?
•The desk
《¤》Turn to page 65.

•The bookshelf
《¤》Turn to page 67.

•The locker
《¤》Turn to page 69. (nice.)

Chapter Text

The desk:

[Y/N] checked the desk… Though checking it didn’t have much of a point, really, unless she’d find something to unlock the drawers with. William Afton’s name plate laid there untouched, accompanied by that beautiful – yet somehow unsettling – white rabbit sculpture. She still thought it looked like taxidermy. Hesitantly she traced her pointer finger across the surface, realizing that thankfully it was indeed made of porcelain or something similar, not flesh and fur. But it was textured like it was fur. Quite impressive craftsmanship... Must’ve been expensive. She turned her attention to that wretched lock that mocked her. Gotta find something to open it. Not a key, she wouldn’t be that lucky, but something to force it open.

…Should she even do that, though? That sounds dangerous. William would probably know it was her who did it. As much as it pained [Y/N], she’d need to control her deep-seeded snooper urges.

《¤》Return to page 64.

Chapter Text

[To be added!]

Chapter Text

The bookshelf:

Stacks of books of varying topics, some non-fiction, some fiction. There wasn’t any common throughline between them other than all of them being very inoffensive. It didn’t look like someone’s personal collection, rather a bunch of shots in the dark so there’d be at least one to appeal to literally anyone that would walk through that office door. She was sort of hoping to get a better grasp on Afton’s interests based on the books he had up there, but, no dice. She tried to get herself to be interested in at least one of them, but all the writing was just so painfully inoffensive that it offended her. Just before walking away and quitting the futile book search, she found something actually of interest. 50 cents were nestled between the pages of a book on economy. Irony by coincidence or a weird joke, it would remain a mystery.

《¤》Add 50 cents to your inventory and turn to page 64.

Chapter Text

[To be added!]

Chapter Text

The locker:

The locker called out to her. The second she grabbed the cold metal of the seal, however, she felt a suffocating feeling rise to her chest. It got worse when she stepped closer to look inside. [Y/N] remembered that feeling. She felt like this right before she entered the ball pit. It was like the object exuded fumes that suddenly repelled her. They called out to her, yet told her to leave all the same. What the hell was that? Was that what people call “gut-feeling”? It wasn’t something she experienced often. But it was recognizable.

Was there something she needed to do first, before searching the locker?

《▪︎》What do you say?
•Keep looking around
《¤》Return to page 64.

•Search the locker
《¤》Turn to page 63.