Promotion (Yandere Glamrock Freddy x Reader)

Three

Scott seemed to either ignore your alarmed expression, or didn't notice it. He simply gave you a wave and spun on his heel, walking away and vanishing from sight sooner than you could say "fuck".

Alligator. Okay. I... I mean, they're animatronics. Made for kids. Animals are pretty typical. But how in the love of fuck is an animatronic made for kids supposed to give a tour?

Programming, most likely. Even the most basic Roomba could sense surroundings to avoid hitting obstacles, so something more complex could have been programmed to give a new employee a tour of the place. With a jerky motion you pried yourself off of the spot on the floor, heading for the escalators and trying to seem like you belonged there. The little cafe on the upper floor was small, but clean and surprisingly cozy. The employee behind the counter glanced up and smiled as you walked in. "You look a little lost."

"I probably will be if I'm not careful," you replied, forcing yourself to sit at the counter, sighing heavily. He eyed you expectantly, which confused you for just a moment. "O-oh, uh, sorry. Scott sent me up here to wait for... someone. I guess I'm supposed to get a tour."

You must have said some magic code word, as the barista visibly relaxed, his smile coming easier. "New employee, nice. We always need more people. Place is so damn huge, it's a wonder we haven't fallen apart." His smile softened. "Well, it'll be a couple of minutes before your tour guide arrives, so can I make you a drink?"

You ordered a basic coffee, nothing too complicated or large. You weren't confident enough to try and locate a bathroom without getting lost, so you didn't want to drink a lot of liquid. A minute or so passed, as you slowly sipped the coffee and trying to politely make small talk with the barista. But something was eating away at you, and the question came out before you could stop it: "Am I really waiting for an animatronic?"

He paused before he chuckled, shoulders shaking with the gesture. "Yeah, you are. They schedule interviews at certain times, so they don't coincide with performances. They like showing off the bots, so the fact that you're being given a tour is a good sign. I've known a few people that get interviewed but they never get the tour; I guess the interview was just to be polite. Who are you waiting for?"

"I don't know," you admitted softly. The more time passed, the more nervous you became. "Scott said it was an alligator."

His eyebrows went up high. "Really? Usually... huh. Well, then. Must be a good day."

That told you sweet fuck all. Opening your mouth you were about to ask for a little clarification, but the sound of footsteps caught your attention. They were three times as heavy as normal footsteps, and that didn't ease you in the slightest. All at once the double doors opened, and the two of you looked towards the sound.

Well, I'll be damned.

"Hey, Monty, you're giving the tour today? Good to see you're feeling better." The barista spoke like he would have to... well, something alive. Not an alligator animatronic, who you were certain was looking right at you from behind star-shaped sunglasses.

Shifting as if to make himself more comfortable, the gator nodded and chuckled. "I'm on top of the world today, if I'm bein' honest." He strode in and immediately approached you, holding out a hand. "Montgomery Gator, at your service. But call me Monty cause my full name is too hard for kids to say, okay?"

Frozen in place, it took a good deal of focus to even reach and clasp his hand. Claw. Whatever. "A-ah, okay... Monty."

His other hand rose and lifted his glasses, red eyes looking you over. "Janitorial, huh? Sorry, girlie, that's the pits. But don't worry, I'll put in a good word for ya when you wanna transfer to someplace fun."

What the hell did he just do, scan you with his eyes?! "How did you--??"

"We have all the data we need. Got it as soon as possible from Scott." Monty lowered his glasses back down and straightened up. "... nervous? Excited? Creeped out by the idea of a gator talkin' to ya?"

"All of the above," you replied before you could stop yourself. "Ah, shit, sorry, I... I don't know."

But the gator just laughed. "Okay, okay, ya make a fair point, but don't let the boss-man hear that." Monty shook his head. "He does not like foul language. You're an adult, we know, but in his eyes this is a place for kids, and kids don't curse. Ya dig?"

It made sense. Customers didn't want to hear employees swearing up a storm. But you managed a nervous smile. "I'll do my best. I swear more than I like to admit, but I know there are kids around, so I'll be careful."

Another chuckle, this one soft. "I like you, girlie. Now you gonna finish that coffee, or you want the tour? Normally there's a specific order to the stuff we show, but..." Monty groaned and slumped his shoulders. "This is my tour, and I say we get the boring, standard and required junk out of the way first. Then I can show you all the fun stuff. Sound good?" He wiggled his eyebrows, and for some reason that gesture alone made you wonder just how "advanced" Monty and his friends were.

And how he was capable of holding a regular conversation with you. It was scripted, right? His personality? Were his responses controlled, triggered with specific words or phrases you had said without knowing?

Because it felt more like you were talking to someone alive.