Requested by TangIsATangerine
CW // pills, hallucinations, paranoia and anxiety throughout (pretty much) the whole chapter
I cant help but sneaking davesport into every chapter omg I deeply apologize (half-sincere), also this is kind of a boring chapter imo, but I tried my best
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"Okay...sleep pills. Side effects...drowsiness? Obviously. Paranoia? Not too bad. Hallucinations? Highly doubt it. I'm a strong as The Real Fredbear. Maybe slightly weaker." Jack squinted as he read off side effects for his new sleep medication. He opened up the bottle, got a glass of water and downed two capsules.
He put the bottle of meds onto his nightstand and closed his eyes.
Then he woke up 2 hours later from a chilling nightmare. These tall, decomposing, disgustingly horrifying versions of the bots at Fazbender's. He coughed and shivered. He heard loud footsteps outside and yelped. He grabbed a flash light and sunk to the front of his bed. He flinched as he heard footsteps down the hall. He ran over to that side of the room and shone the light down the hall. Nothing. "Okay. Okay. I'm fine. We're just fine." He whispers over and over. He noticed something shaking out of the corner of his eye. He quickly shone the flash light onto his bed.
His eyes widened as he saw the tiny Freddy plush on his bed now shaking and scary-looking. The flash light flickered, and when Jack turned it back on, the plush was normal again. His heart nearly stopped. "What the hell is happening?" He whispered in sing-song to himself.
He glanced over to his closet. He couldn't tell if the large figure in there was just his clothes or a person—or maybe even animatronic. He crept over there and shone the flash light there. Just some clothes.
He would not get sleep tonight.
/// timeskip \\\
"Employee! Hey! The pizza ovens are on the fritz again so I need you to help Ronal-" His phone headed boss pauses. "You look, uh, disoriented." Jack rubs his eyes sleepily. "Sorry boss." He mumbles. Peter leans in. "If you're on something, it'll be easier to tell me now so I don't have to fire you." He whispers. Jack would get offended if Peter wasn't right to assume he was high. In all fairness, Jack is never not high on the job. "Um, what do I have to do again?" He asks. Peter shakes his phone head, as if to dismiss the thought. "Help Ronaldo with making pizza."
Jack nods and walks off to the kitchen. Before he can even open the door, his 'elusive' aubergine friend walks in front of him with a grin. "Why hello there, Old Sport!" He cheers. Jack simply waves and grumbles. "What's with yer scowl?" Dave asks. Jack murmurs out an 'it's nothing,' and moves on to help out Ronaldo. Dave promptly follows.
"Well I was gonna say that we should prank Phone-face today!" Dave leans his neck over onto Jack's shoulder as he starts kneading dough.
/// Night 2 \\\
Jack took his nightly 2 sleep meds and laid down.
He hears stomping noises nearby. His throat goes dry and he scrambles for a flash light. He runs over to the door. He freezes up as he hears loud breathing getting closer and closer. He slams the door shut. After a few seconds, he peeks out. He turns on the flash light and sighs in relief when he sees nothing down the hall. He turns around to start going back to bed but sees the Freddy plush is shaking and looks like some kind of nightmare Freddy. He shines the flash light onto it, and his light flickers, but the demented plush is normal again. "I'm either going fucking insane...or people are stalking me." He whispers to himself, his voice shaky and rough.
He repeats this cycle over and over and over again throughout the whole night. At one point, he nearly passes out when the breathing outside gets too loud and he feels like he's being strangled.
He finally falls asleep at 6 AM, hunched over the front of his bedpost.
Then wakes up at 7:30.
And goes to work.
He trudges into the building, his vision hazy and his senses already near their limits. He grumbles under his breath.
The day kind of blurs by, until he snaps back to reality as Peter is lecturing him. "-nd you can't just fall asleep on the job like that!" He rants. Jack mumbles something even he can't comprehend. "What was that?" His phone-headed boss asks. "I just, um, I- Sorry, boss. Won't happen again. Yeah." He sighs. Peter sighs. "Just- Um- Just don't be weird." He says, then walks away. Jack goes back to work. He nearly jumps out of skin when he sees something out of the corner of his eye. He quickly turns and fear takes over his entire body when he realizes he doesn't have a flash light to protect him from whatever the hell might kill him and- "Oh, it's just you." He says, his look of fear disappearing when he sees that it's 'just' Dave. Dave gasps dramatically in mock offense. "What is that supposed to mean, Old Sport? That's so rude. If anything, you should say 'oh god, it's you!'" Dave teases with his (loveable) stupid grin. He studies Jack's exhausted expression. "You look tired." He says blankly.
"Really? I never would've noticed! We got a genius here, everyone!" Jack says sarcastically, raising up his hands and volume to make a point. Dave fumbles with his hands as he sees heads turn. "Sportsy, I-" Dave stammers. "Are you, like, high? Is that why you're so jerk-y today?" He asks, and Jack does not appreciate that, obviously. "Why does everyone think I'm high? No, I'm just so fucking tired, you would not get it, Dave." Jack stares down at Dave's shoes as he begins to rant. Dave cuts him off with an "Alright, I get it, I get it, you're sleepy as hell." Dave rolls his eyes. "Anyways, aren't ya takin' sleep meds or somethin'?" He leans in, and Jack backs away, scrunching his nose in discomfort. "Yeah, but I can't get to sleep because these things are trying to kill me. Or maybe I'm going crazy." Jack reaches up for Dave's shoulders to pull him down. "I'm being targeted." He whispers, his eyes widening, and his pupils trembling back and forth, scanning Dave's expression.
"Yer goin' crazy." Dave agrees. Jack shakes his shoulders. "Oh my god. Please shut the fuck up. I'm not going crazy. Forget I even suggested that. Dumbass." He says, all in the exact same tone, with no actual bite. "Suggested what?" Dave teases. Jack scowls. "Whatever, man- I'm going to do my job." He rolls his eyes and walks away from Dave. "The job you get paid 3 cents an hour for!" Dave reminds him as he walks away.
/// Night 3 \\\
Jack decides to takes his meds and goes to bed.
And guess what? He wakes up right at 12 AM, on the dot, shaking and hyperventilating from his nightmares again. The sense of dread doesn't help out much, so he searches the room and hallway again.
At exactly 1:01 AM, he hears loud and somewhat crunchy footsteps. He feels like he could pass away right then and there. Just croak and keel over, gone. He chokes on his spit before coughing and breathing properly again. Well. As properly as he can manage. He grips his flash light and shines it down the hallway to his left. He sees a tall—decaying?— figure running down the hall at top speed, so he slams the door shut, his mind swimming. He hears thrashing for just a second, then silence. He peeks through and sees an empty hallway. He sees a shadow in his closet and rushes to shine a light in there. Nothing. "Oh my god, I'm going insane." He whispers.
He cycles through the left and right hallways, his bed, and his closet throughout the night until around 5 AM. He hears thumping noises above him. He freezes. "Please don't tell me there's another one, I'm going to fucking sob-" He silently begs. The noises stop. There's a moment of tense silence. "I guess not." He thinks. He notices the Freddy plush shaking and rapidly goes over to shine the flash light on it.
The flash light doesn't flicker this time. It turns off completely.
He shakes it over and over and over, but nothing works. Fear takes his control of his entire being. He sees the clock. 5:58 AM. He decides to rush to bed and just pray that nothing will kill him tonight.
He wakes up again at 7:30. Time for work!
He barely gets through the day. Flinching, shaking, always looking behind himself, snapping at anyone and everyone who brings it up, and never even stepping near the animatronics.
Maybe it's the meds? He has always been pretty paranoid and prone to delusions.
...Nah, probably not.
/// Night 4 [final night] \\\
He hesitantly takes the meds tonight. He lays in bed. "Please don't let anything try to kill me tonight..." He whispers.
12 AM. He sits up, his eyes darting around the room. Not the same old routine! He grips his shirt to try and cool down to get air, but it doesn't seem to work. He doesn't know how long he sits there, panicking, but at one point, he hears loud footsteps. He reaches for his flash light, but remember the lack of power. "Fuuuuck." He whispers. He opens his nightstand and searches for batteries. He rips open a pack, and they slip out. He gets out and searches the carpet for the small objects. He hears loud breathing in the hallway. "Fuck, fuck, fuck-" He whispers. He shoves the batteries inside the flashlight and runs over to the right hallway and slams the door shut. He tries to stay as sane as possible. He looks over at the clock. 2 AM. He-
There's a loud crash. A lanky figure stands up, as if rising from the floor. Jack feels like he could die. Right there. His heart stops.
"Uh- Why- Why hello there, Old Sport!" An annoyingly familiar voice calls out. Jack shines his flash light onto the figure. It's Dave. Jack feel like he could punch the guy right now, but he's too petrified to move. He trembles. "I- Um- I just happened to be walking by! At nearly three AM...completely normal thing to do! Yeah! Uh- Are you, like, having a psychotic episode? Or am I missing something?" Dave stammers out. Jack stays silent. His grip on the door handle slips, and the door is opened. He sees something in his closet and races the close the closet door. "What are ya' doin with the doors?" Dave inquires, walking closer to Jack. Jack glances at the time. 3 AM. He catches a glimpse of the Freddy plush shaking and shines the flash light on it, but the light hits more of Dave than the actual plush.
Dave picks up the shaking man, despite his protests, and plops him into bed. Jack is hysterical at this point. Dave picks up the Freddy plush and chucks it out into the hallway. Jack yelps and starts rambling over how 'it'll kill him' or something to that effect, and Dave simply shushes him. "You need some damned sleep." Dave dead-pans.
After endless arguing and what could be classified as a tantrum, Jack finally falls asleep.
On what could've been called 'Night 5', he locks away the pill bottle. Doesn't touch a single one. Sure, it takes him 3 and a half extra hours to sleep, but it's better than nearly dying of fright.
He can't die of fright!
After all, he made a promise, didn't he?
///
I feel like you can tell my first time playing fnaf 4 was horrendous just by the way I describe the nights. I kept DYING. I couldn't make it past 2 AM FOR SOME REASON. I absolutely suck ASS at it. Anyways, here's your food, eat up.
Word count: 1980
