Requested by TangIsATangerine
CW // death and detailed/descriptive gore, and Henry Miller 😨
I seriously need to brush up on the lore. I'm so so so sorry if any info is messed up! Please correct me if I'm wrong.
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Jack was dragging himself to the safe room. "Please don't let me die in front of kids...I hate them so much, they'll brag about it for years until they realize it isn't funny to joke about..." Jack prayed silently. Pain held him in a chokehold, an iron grip. Metal was puncturing his ribs, piercing his skin, making him see spots, taking over his body. He used all of his strength to drag himself away from the stage. He needed to get away from the kids and parents. He couldn't seem to find anyone who would actually help him, like that purple creep or that weird pink guy.
He coughed and spat blood once he slouched over the safe room wall. He heard footsteps. His stomach turned as he felt blood running down his chest as metal dug deeper into his skin when he slouched. He looked up.
He saw Henry. Maybe he could be saved? Henry rapidly shoved something into the suit next to him, but Jack didn't quite care too much to look into it. He tried to speak, but it came out strangled.
"H E L P M E"
Henry looked at the dying man. He grinned. He broke into chuckles. The chuckles evolved into laughter, and the laughter evolved into dark cackles. Jack could feel as if the room was shaking as the man laughed. He wanted to speak again, to call out for help or do something, but his voice cords were now shredded past the point of speaking. He felt hot tears run down his face. Henry fell quiet after a while. He looked at Jack as he left him in the dark room.
And Jack prayed for someone to come save him. To give him a second chance.
Would he get a second chance?
...
...A second chance?
...
...Oh. It seemed he wouldn't...
Jack felt his vision go hazy, before spots came in and took over. His chest crumpled. He let out a strangled wail.
Jack perished.
|–6:15–|
"Quite a shame, isn't it, Willy?" Henry beckoned for William. Said aubergine looked over and made his way to Henry. "I'll ship him to the factory soon. The one at Freddy's. They'll have a delusional worker. I bet that will be what sends that wretched company to the edge of bankruptcy." Henry put a hand on William's back, choosing to ignore how he flinched. William stayed staring at the corpse. He'd seen kids' corpses, what was so different this time?
Maybe it was the fact that Jack knew what was happening. He knew he was dying. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow and agonizing.
William had been through the same. When SpringBonnie randomly went off.
William was knocked out of his daze when he felt a slap on the back of his head. He snapped back to reality and rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry, what were you sayin', Henry?" William asked. "For the second time, what do you think they'll do with him?" Henry asked with a hint of irritation in his tone. "Don't they turn workers into, um...waiters or somethin'?" William tried. Henry grimaced. "No, Willy. They mesh and mold the workers' skulls into a phone. A rotary phone. They become brain-dead advertisement machines. That's what they'll do with him, William." The pink man said with a toothy grin as he went into detail about how they would contort Jack's body to be a phone-headed employee. William tried to block it out, not very fond for the gruesome details. (Not yet, at least.) He felt a wave of guilt wash—no, crash—over him with force. He tried to find a moment to interrupt the other man, but couldn't find one. He just waited it out.
"...Hey- Henry, I, uh, I should probably go do maintenance on the suits, ri-right? They've been abandoned for a while." William pointed out, studying Henry's gaze for some hint of anger or resistance. Henry patted his shoulder and let him go.
|–1 day later–|
Skull? Reformed. Brain? Gone. Where was it? Oh, I don't think anyone even associated with Freddy's could tell you. The only thing they could tell you was that it definitely hurt. Jack—no, no, no—Scott. Scott was alive. Or, at least, somewhat functioning.
He gripped the sides of his phone head. He was in some security office. He couldn't tell. He couldn't remember anything. He wanted to go home. Did he have a home? Did he have a name? He glanced up and saw another phone person. He felt sick. Was he in some alternate universe? Was every one here a phone head? What was happening to him?
No, no, no, no! He had to be hallucinating! He was delusional, that's what he was! ...Maybe?
He tried to speak, but his own voice overwhelmed him. Or, rather, his voice box. He had a voice box now. He could faintly recognize it in the back of his mind. Maybe he could toggle it on and off. That doesn't matter right now, Ja- Scott! He managed to wrestle his voice out. It came out mangled and stuttery, many 'uh's and 'um's filling the air. "S-s-s-s-i-i-i-r! I-I-I-It hu-hur-h-hurts-" He managed out, his voice box glitching. He was in so much damn pain.
"What do you remember, employee?" A voice rang clear.
"I-I-I re-r-r-reme-member a bir- a birthday p-party? A-A-And- Wh-What-What's my na-name? What's my n-name!?" The orange rotary phone stuttered out, his voice panicky.
"Scott Cawthon. Your name is Scott Cawthon, employee."
"Sc-Scott. Okay."
"Who's your favorite animatronic?"
"Wh- Why are you a-asking tha- FOXY_THE_PIRATE_HAS_ALWAYS_BEEN_MY_FAVORITE." His voice broke. He wanted to sob. "Wh-Why- Why did I say th-that!? I don't think tha-"
"Shush, employee." There was a sigh. "I...I'm glad you can remember some things." There was a sound of faint footsteps, and silence.
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sorry if this didn't come out well ^_^
Word count: 985
