More Than You Knew

1

When James saw the news, he didn't quite believe his eyes. Nor did he understand what had possessed him to get in his car and drive to the burned down location, but here he was nonetheless. He gazed lifelessly at the rubble of the fallen building, the roof having collapsed in on itself in the midst of the burning--he found himself wondering if what they had said on the news could have possibly been true.

Human remains had been found once the smoke cleared, and the more he thought about it, the more obvious it became. The smell of smoke lingered in the air, no doubt from the few embers that remained amongst the burned planks and bricks--but there was a more sinister undertone to what could be smelled in the early morning air. Underneath it all, James could still recognize the subtle but putrid scent of burnt hair and flesh. Briefly, his mind flashed back to the first fire--the fire at Fazbear Fright. The one that he had caused, only to have gotten caught up in the flames himself.

Veronica had taken the blame for him that day. He felt a pang in his heart when he realized that he had never properly thanked her for saving him from jail time. With a faint grimace, he approached the yellow police tape and crawled underneath it.

As he searched for any sign that she may have been here while it burned down, he wondered to himself what exactly he could be looking for--and if he was ready to face what he would inevitably find. Mixed shades of charcoal black and deep browns made up most of the rubble, with the occasional flash of color and hard plastic from the melted animatronics. The remains of the black and white tile that had once run across the floor of the establishment was stained a mousy color of grey from the soot that settled from the fallen debris. Tables still remained where they had been set up before the fire had been started, with the embellishments having been burned in the blaze; leaving only the tables in their place--the wood scorched in places that had caught flame amidst the havoc, the metal supports still hot to the touch. Remains of the animatronics stood towards the front of what remained of the main room, with their hard plastic shells looking half melted, revealing the burned metal of the endoskeletons beneath. The main portion of the roof that had collapsed in on itself had been in the area that once was the main party room, with the four walls standing strong despite the destruction that had taken place there moments prior. It was jarring, to see a place like this that had gotten so popular look as though it had been in the radius of a bombing.

For hours, he searched and searched. For something, anything, any sign that she had been there. Whether it was lonely denial, or the need for closure; he wasn't sure what had kept him searching. He moved closer to the crumbling walls, observing what remained of the ventilation systems above him. A hatch remained open, swinging lazily on a hinge that creaked and groaned with the effort of it's movements. Underneath the open hatch, an overturned table leaned up against the corner in a makeshift shelter.

Nearby the overturned table lay the remains of a certain soot-stained, moldy, and rotten golden bunny suit. It reeked of burned flesh and charred, melted metal. James stared at the rabbit in disdain, shifting his attention away from the thing that he would rather forget. He still remembered the way that thing reeked of rotting flesh and blood after he and Veronica had come face to face with it in Fazbear Fright, only to discover that William had gotten stuck in a springlock failure within it and died. He nearly gagged at the memory of the way that he had been able to see William's organs through the rips in the moth-eaten fabric of the springlock suit.

His attention turned back to the table, something hopeful telling him to turn it over and check what was on the underside of it. The side that was facing the fire had been almost completely charred, burnt to a crisp shade of black as opposed to the darkened wood that the tables had been originally. He gripped one end of the table, careful to avoid the metal parts that rimmed the ends of every table. Carefully, he pulled back the table. His eyes widened at what he saw laid beneath the protective barrier--

Veronica. There she laid, with her glassy blue eyes focused hazily open on a fixed point on the ceiling. Her mouth remained open, with the muscles in her jaw having slackened as the life faded from her body--one hand pressed against her chest as though she were struggling to breathe. Her face was streaked with soot, ash, and her own blood. The table had protected her body from most of the damage that could have been done to her, but from where James stood, he could see some bruising on her legs and evidence of burns riddling her upper arms and torso. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the look in her eyes.

He'd never seen her scared like that before..

Not even during the night shift, when death was so apparently evident. She had always been cheery then, joking around with him instead of taking everything seriously like he did. She hadn't ever been afraid of the animatronics like he was.

Cheery Veronica, courageous Veronica, Veronica who had a joke for every situation, Veronica who could've cheered him up with something as simple as a smile. How could a light as strong as that be extinguished as easily as hers had been? How could someone who had seemed so perfect die as easily as she had? Overwhelming grief began to hit him all over again. He moved the table completely out of the way so he could see Veronica more clearly.

"Oh, Ron.." He echoed, staring at her corpse. He kneeled down to her side, trying to think of what he could possibly do in this situation. He half expected her to respond, to come back to life and tell him that everything would be okay.

But she lay still. Cold and unmoving.

"Why'd you have to go and die on me like that?" James asked, expecting no reply. His voice was quiet, hollow--he had never been good at expressing his emotions. He didn't know what to do with the overwhelming feeling that he was going through right now. He sat in silence for a few moments, grieving for the friend that he'd lost so many times over--

This has to be some sort of joke. It has to be. It's just some sort of sick, cruel joke.. There's no way she's..

But there she lay, her gaze fixated on something distant that only she could see.

"I can't.. How could you leave me like this, Veronica? I can't go it alone again-- I just--"

And then, all at once,

He was hit with an idea.