Creepy Explorations: Volume 1 (Lemon)

Freddy Fazbear's Pizza

"Hey guys, Noah here!" your host greets once more.

The setting is similar to that of the Creepy Explorations pilot; a cold downtown street in the middle of night, evident by Noah's heavy breath as he addresses his small audience through his cheap hand-held camera.

"Yep, I'm back! I was debating on whether or not I should continue this series, seeing how the pilot went, but apparently you guys loved it so here's episode two! So I stayed up all last night researching local urban legends and I found one that was perfect for my Creepy Explorations series. The dark and mysterious story of..."

Noah turns the camcorder around to reveal he's standing in the shadow of a shut-down restaurant. Its dead LED sign finishes his sentence.

"FREDDY FAZBEAR'S PIZZA"

"So this was a really successful local pizza place back in the 80s. As a matter of fact, my parents went here all the time when they were kids! But it was shut down in 1993 because of a couple scandals. First, there was...what was it, the Bite of '87? Don't quote me on that, but a customer got their brains scooped out by a malfunctioning animatronic! I personally find that hard to believe but it was all over the news so it must be true! And then, six years later, five kids went missing here, and foul play was suspected by the police. Ultimately, though, the mystery was never solved and the chain went out of business because of all the bad press. And now here we are, over 20 years later. So let's go see what all the commotion was about!"

Noah begins his trek forward through Fazbear's empty parking lot. He gets right up to the glass door in its front and peeks in, but since it's pitch black, all that can be made out is the vague outline of a big party room. Noah wraps his fingers around the metal crash bar of the entrance and gives it a push. Locked, obviously.

"Worth a shot," he mutters before walking across the sidewalk lining the building to get around to its rear.

There, there's a back door marked by an "Employees Only" sign. He gives its bar one good push and miraculously enough, it's unlocked. The door swoops open under his weight and on the other side is a long, desolate corridor with trillions of dust particles sparkling and hanging in the air. The door closes behind Noah, flushing everything with blackness. He fixes that by flicking on his flashlight he had smuggled in his pocket. Not his crappy phone flashlight from last episode, but an actual black torch that provides some decent illumination.

"Came prepared this time," he claims with pride as he begins sweeping the hallway.

The floors are checkered and the grime on the cracked walls are covered by extravagant posters advertising the chain's mascots. A purple bunny named Bonnie, a yellow chicken named Chica, and who can forget the face and name of the whole establishment Freddy Fazbear, a brown...well, you know. They're all thick feminine robotic furries, with curves and chests that would never pass for children's entertainment today. Their faces glow with innocent happiness, and they're each decked out with all sorts of cute little accessories. For example, Freddy's in a classic black top hat and bow-tie, Bonnie's rocking out with a red electric guitar and matching bow-tie, and Chica's distended bosom is censored by a white bib yelling "LET'S EAT!!!" while she holds out a dish of pink sweets. 

"They look so young and happy in these old posters, but I'd hate to see how they're holding up now," Noah remarks as he shines his light upon the garish posters, acting as if the Fazbear Band are less like retired machines and more like washed up celebrities.

Cobwebs stretch across the corners and tendril-like wires spill out of the ceiling. Noah passes an Office and Supply Closet, but glosses over them since they're just full of boring, dusty old maintenance equipment like security monitors, cleaning supplies, and cardboard boxes. He finally emerges from the employees section and into the meat of the establishment, the places that would send all sorts of nostalgic memories flooding back into the 80s and 90s kids in the audience. A large atrium lined with arrays of centerfold tables, all draped with white plastic covers and decorated with colorful striped party hats - The Dining Area, home to countless birthday parties. Looking over it all is a big wooden platform littered with old speakers and microphones - The Show Stage, home to countless concerts. Off to right are the Restrooms and the Kitchen, and to the left is another wooden stage, this one shrouded by a cylindrical purple curtain hung from the ceiling by a circular drape rod.

Dozens of silver star outlines pop out from the mauve fabric, and the attraction is marked by a little wooden sign reading "-SORRY!- OUT OF ORDER". Pirate Cove. Noah steps up onto the stage and brushes the purple drapery out of his way, enclosing himself within the darkness of the rundown attraction. Befitting its name, Pirate Cove's interior is superficially done up like a rickety old pirate's ship, with three skull and crossbones flags hanging from above, styrofoam "wooden" barrels and crates full of "rum" and "cannonballs", and a big boat's wheel that only looks to be made of solid bark. The most noteworthy thing, however, is most certainly the animatronic left slump up against the wall in the back. It's not any of the three advertised by the posters back in the West Hall, so it's likely one that was decommissioned long before the place even shut down. Put simply, she's old and decayed even for this place, which is saying something. She's a red fox with a toothy snout, black eyepatch, and silver hook hand, her glossy shell of crimson slightly eaten away by entire decades of rot to show the cold metal endoskeleton that lies underneath.

"I don't recognize this one," Noah admits as he reaches his hand out to feel her plastic pelt. "I wonder what her name i-"

His palm brushes against her shoulder and she immediately snaps into a stiff, robotic posture, making Noah squeal like a girl and stumble back with such force that he almost lands flat on his ass. Her eye weakly glows with a white LED light, flickering in and out like a dying lightbulb. The reactivated machine, apparently motion-sensitive, reads off from its almost 30 year old script with its crackling, barely functioning voice box of a booming, West Country-accented young woman.

"Y-Y-YAAA-YAAARGH, I-I-I-I'M FOXY THE P-P-P-P-I'M FOXY THE PIRATE. HOW D-D-DDARE YE ENTER M-M-HOW DARE YE ENTER ME PIRATE'S COVE! I-I-I-I'LL HAVE YE WALK-I'LL HAVE YE WALK THE PLANK FOR THIS!"

"Jesus, that scared me half to death!" Noah pants as he clutches his pounding heart. "How the heck is this thing still working anyways?!"

Foxy returns to her dormant state, so nothing but silence remains. Noah sighs in frustration before stepping back out of her cove.

"I wonder if the other three animatronics still have some juice in them like that," Noah ponders aloud. He has no idea.

He walks a couple paces forward and glances through the empty doorway of the Kitchen, scanning all of the retired cooking equipment like stoves, ovens, fridges, and towers of packaged plastic plates and cups. He peers around the closest corner down another corridor, the East Hall, the sister of the one he came in from. They'd be twins if it weren't for the lack of a Supply Closet this time. Then he gets a closer look at the Restrooms, nothing of more cracked black-and-white tiles and animated posters peeling off the walls to write home about. He returns to the center of the establishment.

"Alright, I think I checked the whole building... oh wait a second, how did I forget? The Back-Stage! That's where all the children went missing! I remember reading that there were theories and rumors about how the kids were murdered in that very room by the animatronics, and that's why they shut them all down, because they were-"

He cuts himself off when he glances back at Pirate Cove. It's completely empty aside from the props, and the curtains are wide open.

"...Where did Foxy go?"