FNaF Origins | The Crying Child

(V1) Chapter 18 - The Animatronics

All was still and quiet in the building. The only sounds were the occasional cricket chirp or car horn. But all was not as lonely as it seemed. It was around midnight at Fazbear's Pizzeria.

The room looked messy from all the kids playing around in it, and pizza stains were everywhere. A curtained area was to the side, and three robots took the main stage. They were all staring ahead like they were frozen in mid sentence, and they smelled faintly of rotten flesh.

Suddenly, wind whistled and whispered through the room as a faint white figure floated in, with faint gray tear marks on his cheeks.

Snap. Freddy's head had turned sharply toward the ghost as it came to a complete stop. Then it opened its mouth, not to talk in real words, but a mumbled robotic voice that held no language. The spirit, though, knew what he was saying. "What happened to Sammy?"

The figure shook his head slowly. "He's dead . . . at least I think he is."

The other animatronics flew to life. Chica lowered her cupcake and watched the ghost curiously, Bonnie gave a pained look, and Foxy's curtains flew open as his ears perked up to hear more.

"Not because of Afton?" Bonnie asked seriously. "It can't be his own father--"

"Michael." The ghost turned away.

The other animatronics gave soft, high pitched screeches as if gasping.

"How could that be possible?" Foxy yelled, waving his hook in the air.

The ghost took his time explaining everything that happened from his point of view by the plush. By the end, the robots looked as still as before.

"Well, then . . . what happened to Afton? You were gone so long yesterday," asked Chica.

"He was finally linked to the two 'accidents'. But it was only by a bit. They questioned him, and in the end had to let him go."

"Man . . ." Freddy looked straight ahead. "I don't know if we should go after Sammy's dad or something."

"Charlie," Foxy interrupted, looking at Freddy, "you need to remember what he did to us. AND on your birthday!"

"Still, how are we--"

Everyone froze, as they suddenly heard clicks of a music box. Then a mysterious marionette came out of the basement of the Parts and Service room.

"Lucas . . . !" Chica squealed softly.

The puppet looked up and surveyed the animatronics. The clicking stopped a while ago, but it kept echoing in the rooms. This time, as it talked, its voice mumbled at a higher pitch.

"Did he come yet?" it asked, looking at the spirit in particular.

"You tell me," it talked back. "I don't live her--"

"Did he come?" the Puppet repeated.

"No," Foxy interrupted, "not yet, though there are night guards. Not many, but some."

"It's him," the Puppet confirmed. "Get him next time."

"But it's not--"

"I SAID . . . IT'S HIM!" The puppet raised an arm at the animatronics, and they stopped and started shaking. It let down its arm, and the robots stood up, but looking revengeful and determined.

"Dan." The Puppet turned toward the white glowing child. "Make sure you keep your eyes on the Aftons, and report everything to me. Got it?"

Dan nodded vigorously, and then disappeared in a flash of light.

~~~~~~~~~~

Michael rushed to his room and locked it. Yea, he was out of bed late, but his curiosity overtook him. William was rushing out of the shed a bit earlier, so he quickly hid.

He was also wondering if it would be okay just to report him to police, but what if his father caught him? He could easily be . . . killed. Michael knew, though, that wouldn't happen. He would be saved and kept. For what, though?

Michael slowly got into his bed, going against himself for wanting to investigate more on his father's actions.

He stared ahead as he tucked himself under his covers.

You're being watched.

He sat up quickly, confused. Did someone just say that, or was it in his head?

Shrugging, Michael fell back to sleep, but not before seeing a white wisp of smoke through his eyes.