CALL OF THE SHADOW [Freedom AU Book Eight]{FNAF/UT}

S̴͇̥̬̒͊̎I̶͈̤̓͘͝ͅX̷͓̱͗̿͐̕͠

                         Kitty_Toast

Thank you to ^^^ for the art in this chapter—you're awesome, gal!

*Sincere Blood warning*

He was breathing rapidly, and shaking uncontrollably. He was hunched somewhat to let his own shadow—cast by the sun in the sky—cover his hands, if the sleeves of his dark hood didn't help already. His emerald eyes were wide in fear, as he stared at the sight that was his hands.

He'd been told not to panic. The bear told him it would be alright. But, he was panicking anyways. Who wouldn't panic, when one has the blood of their friend on their hands? He didn't know what to do now. He was afraid of what had happened, not that he'd probably get in serious trouble, but he was afraid at the fact this had transpired at all.

He stuffed in hands in his pocket—he'd have to get rid of the hood, it was ruined now—and tried to calm his nerves enough to begin walking again. The whole walk, he tried to think of what to do. He should've done more to help her... instead of just leaving her... he could've waited with her until help came... Bon, you idiot! The shadow loomed over him, and he didn't have to look at it to know it was grinning wildly.

~~~

The café was relatively quiet that afternoon. Aside from the few regulars that were currently in, Freddy and Gold were also there. The golden bear is usually at the café most afternoons, however, Freddy had come to the café to help Chica out for a while—as he would sometimes do on days when neither Toy or Vixen were going to be there working.

Chica had politely declined the offer, stating that the café wasn't busy enough to the point where she'd need any help. All that really needed to be done was a few batches of cookies that needed to be baked and put behind the display glass by the counter. So, the bear simply instead decided to join his older brother for a while—the quiet of the café quite pleasant.

The fresh aroma of peanut butter, snickerdoodle and gingersnap cookies filled the kitchen—and partly poured out to the dinning room of the café, as Chica pulled the trays out of the oven. She couldn't resist taking a sniff for herself. It didn't matter how many times she'd make these pastries, the smell of fresh baked goods always left her with a warmed feeling.

Having placed the hot trays of cookies on the oven-top to cool, Chica removed her oven mitts. After putting the mitts aside, she returned to cleaning up the kitchen counters a bit more. Baking three batches of three different cookies at one time was no neat endeavor. Whilst cleaning up, Chica took notice of how the kitchen trash bin was near-full to the brim. Better take that out back. She thought to herself, pulling the garbage bag closed.