Finding The Five || FNAF Movie

19 || Thirty(-Two) Minutes

(Unedited, NOT Proofread, 5492 words)
Trigger Warnings: Mentions of death/murder/violence/suicide, fear, description of an anxiety attack (by someone who has anxiety attacks)

Abby and I make our way to the hall, past the bathrooms Mike and I hid in yesterday, past the parts and services room that makes my skin crawl was we approach it, into the next hallway, and to the party room marked with a large number 2 on the left side of the hall. Abby's hand stays firmly in mine, and we both squeeze our fingers down as if we're scared the dark might swallow us whole if we're not almost digging our nails into each other. Every step brings us closer to the cracked door, to the private room inside, to Jeremy.

I push the door open as we get to it and let Abby step in first with me close behind. She looks around while I return the door to the cracked position before deciding to fully shut it, which I do and then immediately check to make sure I can still open it again. I can, and the locking mechanism is basic and comforting. I choose not to lock it for the time being, just in case.

I really don't want it to get stuck.

Jeremy's spirit is present— I can feel it in the air on my skin and the breaths I take—, but he's very clearly hiding. I pretend not to notice and set the amethyst on the table, laying my flashlight down on one edge of the table to give us some constant, unmoving light. Abby sets her flashlight down as well and kicks some trash and light rubble to the side, making a place for her to stand comfortably.

We tend to the room for a moment, and the longer we work, the closer Jeremy's spirit gets. Until, after about a minute, he appears fully in between the two long tables.

The room is a rectangle with black and white checkered floors. There are two tables with old, tattered tablecloths hanging from them. A single party hat sits on either table; one is in a rather pristine condition and the other is rotting and covered in mold and dust. An old poster with the words "Let's Party" hangs lifelessly from one single nail in the ceiling to our left. The material is deeply discolored and the thing itself holds hundreds of tiny spider webs in place. The spiders in question climb along it, silent and quick.

When Jeremy appears, the energy of the room shifts. I feel him fully before I even catch a glimpse of him, but once he's in the room, I can't keep myself from staring.

I can see him clearer here. His energy is less obstructed, as it has less to compete with than it did in the hotel. His spirit fits here. His memories can exist here. He can exist here, and he's almost solid because of it.

He has a long-sleeved blue shirt with two off-white stripes around his torso and similarly colored sleeve cuffs, neckline, and hem. He also has jeans and shoes of an indiscernible color. Around his head, he has white paper rabbit ears.

"You made it," he says, his tone giving away no emotion.

"We did," I reply, and his gentle eyes turn to look at me.

"Where is the Puppet?" he asks.

"In the party room," Abby replies, quickly clarifying, "the main room. Where we came in. I didn't let him follow us."

"Him?" Jeremy chimes, turning to look at her. 

"The Puppet is a boy!" she exclaims, defending her point while glancing over to me. Once again, I am amazed and have no grounds to argue with her. Or, in this case, to prove her correct. 

The Puppet is a boy, Charlotte is a girl, and energy itself feels neutral. That's why I refer to the Puppet as 'it'. An energy.

"Is there more of you?" Jeremy questions out of nowhere, and we both nod. "Where are they?"