*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—chapter twenty-five: extra help is necessary
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(tw: death, gore)
November 7, 1993
SCOTT SMITH SITS AT THE OFFICE DESK. It had just turned midnight. Both doors are wide open, the desk fan is loud as it swivels, blowing air directly into his face. The light overhead buzzes, adding to the ambience. He glances towards the phone and picks it up, deciding to start the recording for the night.
"Hello? Hello, hey! Hey, wow, day four," he chuckles nervously as he speaks into the phone. It's held between his shoulder and his right ear as he picks up the tablet and checks the cameras. "I knew you could do it. Uh, hey, listen. I may not be around to send you a message tomorrow."
When he checks Pirate Cove, the curtains are wide open. And, he can hear hurried footsteps. Foxy's on the move.
Scott rolls the chair over to the left wall and presses the big red button. The thick metal door comes sliding down, groaning in protest as it slides against the doorframe on the way down. He rolls back over to the desk. As he speaks again, there's banging on the door.
"It's- It's been a bad night here...for me. Um, I-I'm kinda glad that I recorded my messages for you," he clears his throat, "uh, when I did."
The banging continues.
Scott checks the cameras for the other rooms. Bonnie, Freddy, and Chica are not on stage. He can feel his heart drop to his stomach.
"Uh, hey, do me a favor," he's starting to sweat from nervousness now. Foxy is still banging on the door. Bonnie is in the Dining Area. "Maybe sometime, check inside those suits, uh, in the back room? I'm gonna try to hold out until someone checks. Maybe it won't be so bad. Uh, I-I-I always wondered what was in all those empty heads back there."
He sets the tablet down on the desk momentarily, taking a piece of paper and a pen to write something.
Fritz, tell your mother I love her. I might not make it out alive tonight, he writes down on a piece of paper that he then tucks into the top drawer of the desk. He has no way of sending this note to his family. God, he just hopes they know he'll die for a good reason.
It made him sad. A single tear falls down his cheek as he picks up the tablet again. He thinks about both his wife and his step-son, Fritz, and how upset both of them would be when they find out Scott died at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.
Scott believes it's a curse of some kind. That anyone involved with Fazbear Entertainment receives bad luck, and that the severity of such bad luck depends on how much they know about the company and the original owners.
