You Don't Want Help, Do You?

Chapter One: System Restart

Tap, tap, tap, tap!

Ratty shoes struck once-shiny tiles and crunched over carpet as a boy flew down a hallway choked with cobwebs and warped cartoon characters. The only light came from the beam of a flashlight trained on his back. While the door on the left wall at the end of the hallway jingled but stayed stuck, a set of shutters stuck a foot open took up quite a bit of the wall to his right.

The boy squirmed under the shutters, his fluttering heart pounding in his ears. The thumping of a second pair of footsteps rushing down the hall drowned his wheezy breaths. A female voice called, "Come on, just wait!"

He squeezed out into a dusty, cavernous hall.

Cracked, long-dead neon symbols decorated the high walls. Moth-eaten curtains hung before a small stage made of rotten wood and dusty lights. Faded cardboard cutouts were scattered near the walls. In the middle of his pathway were cases, some cracked, and others broken, and all covered in a fine layer of dust.

The footsteps grew louder in the hall behind him. "Little boy!" the female voice called. "Come back!"

His head whipped back and forth as he looked for an escape. A sturdy pair of metal doors sunk into the wall to his right. Before him, multiple rooms with the hall-facing walls made of glass lined the left side of the hall. The first glass pane was broken. There may have been other hiding spots, but the hall quickly sank into darkness.

The boy ran to the broken glass and, sucking in his breath, crawled through the hole left behind. A tiny hiss escaped him at the sting in his cheek.

He pushed himself through a set of dusty, moth-eaten curtains. He coughed and pulled them shut behind him. He hid in the corner and waited.

The shutters squealed, clicked, and then creaked again. A pair of footsteps crossed through the wide hall. "Come on, little boy! I'm here to help!"

Once her footsteps faded, he took a deep breath, coughed at the dust that invaded his lungs, and looked around. While the hallway itself had been lit only by the lady's flashlight, nothing here provided light. He squinted and blinked, but he couldn't adjust to the darkness.

The boy stepped forward and patted the dusty cushion to his right. Maybe there was a light switch on the wall, or a flashlight laying around, or a lantern like in the movies.

He stopped and gasped as a light dimly flickered to life. Two lights turned on.

Two circles glowed, dull at first but flickering to life until they were nearly as bright as flashlights. They shed baby blue light over the cramped room decorated with bears and Freddy Fazbear memorabilia as well as the thing in front of him.

He remembered Freddy, remembered seeing him once when he was a little kid. Well, little-r. However, for the most part, he'd seen Freddy on posters and ads. While the boy could entertain the thought of this hunk of metal and plastic being a bear, it looked anything but sturdy. The orange thing tainted with some blue and red designs lay propped against the wall, slumped over with its cracked head on its shoulder and knees half pulled up while its arms lay limp, palms up. He didn't even have a mic. His irises glowed. Faded designs of varying colors were drawn over his face and chest. Perhaps there was more, but with his dented shell in such a time-worn state, the boy couldn't tell.

Chhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrr-ch-ch-chhhh-chhhhhh-rrrrrrrrr

The boy nearly jumped out of his skin and took a few steps back as the thing made harsh grinding noises.

After a few seconds, the machine repeated the noises, though this time in a different string as if trying to speak but finding no ability.

The boy squeaked out, "Are you alive?"