Finding The Five || FNAF Movie

10 || Mrs. Fitzgerald

(Unedited, Not Proofread, 2551 words)
Trigger Warnings: Discussions of death and mild trauma
(A/N: I republished this on 4/4/24 to correct some things that contradicted later developments in the story. Nothing major.)

"The map says we should— oh, nope, never mind, make a left on Montgomery Street," Mike corrects himself, and Jonah leans forward so he can see the street signs clearly through the drizzling rain. 

"We just passed East Street," Jonah offers. 

"Next one," Mike replies, having gotten good at short communication when it comes to nearby turns and exits. 

"What was her job, again?" I ask, turning around to look at Mike. 

"She worked at a library a year ago, but she's been able to retire for multiple years. Annabeth said she might have retired between last year and now," he clarifies, and I nod. 

Jonah makes the left turn and Mike points the home number out to him. Carefully and with great anticipation, Jonah turns into the driveway and nestles his car behind the single other car in the driveway. If I knew anything about cars, I would tell you what it was, but all I can tell is that it's silver-blue and small. 

"Alright, come on, it's about to start raining," Jonah prompts, grabbing his water bottle and taking a sip before setting it back in the center console. I open my door and climb out, leaving my bag in the front floorboard. Jonah steps out in time with Mike and immediately looks over the top of the car at me. 

As Mike grabs his things, I look at the house in front of us. 

It's in alright shape, could probably use a power wash. The front porch sags a bit on the far side, but all the potted plants on the handrail seem to be stable even as they die from the cold. The front bushes are a little overgrown, but again, its winter, so they fit the season. The blue siding is stained and chipped in a few places and the windows need a good wash, but the house is okay. 

"Ready?" Jonah asks, pulling my attention back to the moment in front of me. I offer a soft nod and make my way to their side of the car. Mike goes first, then me, then Jonah. We make our way up the creaking steps onto the wooden porch, and Mike looks back at us before he knocks on the door. 

"What are we going to say?" Jonah whispers. 

"We're not going to lie," I mumble back, and Mike nods a bit. 

"I'll be there in a moment!" A frail, elderly voice calls from inside. Shivers run up and down my spine, and Jonah presses a gentle hand onto my right shoulder. 

Hey. 

I turn a little too sharp to the left and Jonah jumps behind me. The last bits of a person disappear beneath the porch, and I instinctively wrap my arms around myself, instantly feeling drastically out of place. 

"You okay?" Jonah asks, pressing his hand to my back now. 

"Yeah," I lie, already going against my promise. 

The door audibly unlocks and slowly creaks open then. Following behind it is a very gentle voice saying, "I'm sorry, it takes me a while to get to the door." The door opens enough for me to see the wrinkled face of an elderly woman smiling out at us. "How may I help you kids?" 

Two twenty-somethings and a seventeen-year-old? Yeah, we're totally kids.

"We'd like to ask some questions about your son," Mike reveals, starting strong. Her smile begins to fade, but she holds onto the shreds in an attempt to keep her pride. Her emotions are strong, but they don't immediately influence mine.