(you know those little barney songs we used to sing? Something like "I hate you, you hate me, let's go kill a family, take a shotgun to the head now all of your friends are dead"? Ya, there's one that I made for this story, so when we get there, it will be represented by 🎶) ((also, I didn't think this chapter did you justice so...))
"... What just happened...?" Bon bon asked.
Baby looked to the floor. Abuse? We aren't hurting him? "ALRIGHT! Who's been putting there hands on the fox!?"
"I didn't do anything!" Ballora raised her hands in defense.
"I don't know! Foxy just... changed one day..." Puppet said calmly.
"Well in any case, we should make sure he's ok... we don't know what will happen if we don't." Freddy said, helping baby up.
One month ago, when he ripped out his voice box
Foxy was in the small room he made for himself. The small bean bag chair, the mat he called a bed. The only difference now... Is the tens of bottles littering the platform.
🎶
" I love beer,
Beer loves me,
Count the bottles 1 2 3,
I wish life would reach it's end
I wish I was fucking dead. "
🎶
He laughed to himself as he thought about how worthless he thought he was. How much he hated his friends, like they hated him. He felt so empty. Did he even have a purpose? The people in his life hates him. His story was so scattered, there was no fitting timeline. If no one was paying attention, what was the point of all this anyways? He only wishes his soul would be burned away, with all the ashes of our past.
Nothing in his life is consistent, except for those WORTHLESS drawings he made. He thinks he knows what people thought of him, cause he's been paying attention to the voice (not the voice, that's ennard) that's been with him through thick and thin. He knew it was bad to listen, but what could it hurt to try?
If he was feeling empty, might as well be empty, right? If no one was listening, why would he have to make sound? If he wanted to be hurt, why not get hurt? If he wanted to know how they thought of him, why not read them?
If he was feeling empty, might as well be empty, right?! If no one was listening, why would he have to make sound!? If he wanted to be hurt, why not get hurt?! If he wanted to know how they thought of him, why not read them?!
IF HE WAS FEELING EMPTY, MIGHT AS WELL BE EMPTY, RIGHT?? DO IT
IF NO ONE WAS LISTENING, WHY WOULD HE HAVE TO MAKE SOUND?! Shut up
IF HE WANTED TO BE HURT, WHY NOT GET HURT?! DO IT
...
Foxy looked down and all he could see was black. Oil was staining his fur. He couldn't hear anything. He could barely make out a grey box that was connected to him. It was so colorful. He pulled until the the wires where torn out. It hurt so bad. His eyes turned grey, and he powered off.
With the others during that time
(when it cuts to being some of the other animatronics it's always babys point of view)
We all stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the fox to return, but he never did. We had assumed he was fixing the problem, and that it would take a little bit so we all sat down to chat. We haven't seen foxy for a month. We haven't heard anything either.
Sometimes, I would sit in the main room alone. In silence. Maybe I could hear the small little taps of him crawling around up there, it usually sounded like someone tapping there fingers on a desk. Maybe I could hear the scribbles of a pencil, or something falling. I couldn't hear anything... Not even a whisper.
I hope he's ok...
Fast forward
Foxy was in his room, pacing among the bottles he never cleaned up.
" I just did that " over and over in his head. He was terrified by the thought of what his friends were going to do. " I JUST DID THAT "
The more he thought about it, the more excited he got. "I did that!" Foxy laughed to himself because of how absurd it was! All of his bottled up emotions, he just let it all go. The fox was feeling great!
Foxy started spinning around the room, kicking the bottles around to make himself space. He was laughing to himself, giggling to himself, having fun! For the first time in a long time! But there was one thing that the fox forgot about. Foxy was no architect, and he came to an abrupt stop when he heard...
Crack
