FNAF Security Breach: Alternate Protectors

Roxy & Gregory (pt. 11)

                                                         Chapter 11: Running Like A Headless Chicken

The kitchen was an extensive area with orange and red tiles; metal shelves holding cardboard boxes lined the walls. Ovens and other cooking appliances occupied most of the spaces, their silver bodies polished to a shimmering sheen. The place reeked of marinara sauce.

Roxanne and Gregory carefully waded their way through the kitchen, avoiding the flashlights of the security bots. The wolf sneaked through the hallway on all fours, hiding behind cabinets and counters. If her memory was correct, the bait she is looking for should be on the highest shelf. All they had to do was grab it and head to the Atrium. As she maneuvered her way through the kitchen, she felt Gregory shift inside her hair. The little guy did an amazing job repairing her; without him, Vanny would still be torturing her. It felt nice to be whole rather than pieces. Gregory's tiny hand tapped her shoulder, "Roxy. Is it that thing up top?" he asked. Roxanne looked at where he was pointing and nodded.

There was a bright green box on the highest shelf; purple lightning bolts decorated the cardboard surface. Roxanne hid underneath a metal table. She lightly glared at the security that passed them, lips pulling back in a snarl. These security bots are seriously getting on her damn nerves. Roxanne slowly crawled away from her hiding place, then swiftly headed to the shelf; she gently lifted Gregory onto her shoulders and had him stand on them, firmly holding his ankles. Slightly grunting, the boy reached for the box, barely reaching it with his fingertips; Roxanne lifted on her tiptoes, allowing him to finally reach the box. Gregory dropped into her arms and the two quickly ran out of the kitchen.

Briskly walking through the slightly illuminated hallway, Roxanne headed to the Atrium. She stopped by a photo booth, her eyes feverishly searching for her target. Her artificial heart sunk with dread as she realized what needed to be done; however, it was not as bad as it could be. The plan was to trap Chica in Mazercise. The walls were taller than she is so she cannot climb out; furthermore, they are too heavy and thick for her to even break down if she tries. The maze would be set on a timer, constantly changing the walls and always blocking the exit; that way, she is in a constant state of confusion. It hurt her heart since Roxanne knew Chica was not a fan of confined places; additionally, she would be alone. But she has to push her feelings aside. They had less than two hours to get the others out of his way before facing off with Vanny. Gregory moved around in her mane. He held the box under her snout, "Roxanne, what is this stuff?" he asked.

Roxy took the box, "It's Monty Mystery Mix. Chica's crazy for this stuff," she replied.

"Wait, wait. Y'all can eat?!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah! We have artificial "stomachs" per se. It's so we can better interact with the kids; sometimes, when I see a kid crying, I'll sit down with them and have ice cream to make them feel better."

"That's... actually kind of cool."

Suddenly her ears perked up, a growl resonated in her throat. Gregory quickly got out of her hair and got into a running position. Roxanne got on one knee, "Remember the plan?" she asked.

"Yeah!"

Roxy snorted. "Good. When I get Chica into the maze, input the code, then run! Our chase is going to make a lot of noise."

Greg nodded, "I'll hide in a stroller near the arcade."

Roxy looked through the photo booth. There, in a purple outline, was Chica. She was slightly hunched over as she walked down the hall and up the stairs. When the coast was clear, Gregory took off. The wolf sprinted in the opposite direction. Roxy headed up the stairs, then whistled. Glamrock Chica stopped. With twitchy movements, she looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. Her colorful leg warmers were dull with dirt and dust. Parts of her thighs and toes were cracked and broken; her lower beak was slightly unhinged. Chica raised her hands, "Roxanne. You're not supposed to be here," she said.