That Time in 1987. . . . (A FNAF Fanfic) (#WATTYS2015)

Bonnie

       (NOTE: I actually don't know much about pistols, so if I get those types of details wrong, I don't give any . . . brownies.

        Heh heh . . . I think you know where this is heading.)

        Bonnie was afraid.

        After Gold had taken her into some secret room, he had tied her into a chair and covered her mouth with duct tape. She couldn't take it off and she couldn't do anything. Her hands had been tied together and her feet were so tightly against the legs of the chair, she could almost not feel them at all.

        "Mmm . . . mmm!" she squealed over and over again, thrashing in the chair. She knew it wouldn't help. If she would tip over in the chair, she would fall to the ground and it wouldn't do anything. She stopped thrashing, starting to pant hard. If she could have one wish, she just wanted to be back with her friends.

        Through the sound of her profuse panting, Bonnie could remember the simulation she had just experienced. She could still remember when all of the blocky balls smashed through the building. She remembered her terrified screams. She still ached from that horrible experience.

        Why didn't Spring, Gold, and Mari want her to talk about the experience with the painting?

        She had to notify everyone else about it. It was the only thing she could do to save them. Maybe they already knew about it. Maybe they didn't. Bonnie mildly hoped they didn't.

        Bright light shot through the room from in front of her, growing wider and wider as a door slowly opened. She saw a boy with shaggy hair with baggy clothes. Her heart sank as she realized it was Spring.

        "Bonnie?" the voice said. She was even more shocked to find that the voice was more pubescent than Spring's voice. She went through all possibilities in her head, but then realized that it was Foxy.

        She screamed against the duct tape. She heard Foxy release a gasp and trot over to her, mumbling things like, "Oh, no," and, "It's okay, I'll get you out. They won't lay a finger on us again."

        He ripped the duct tape off, which cause burning pain in Bonnie's mouth. She coughed and sputtered hard. She could suddenly feel her stomach groan with the hunger it was experiencing. She hadn't eaten since . . . a while ago.

        "Foxy," she snapped. "Untie me! Hurry!"

        Foxy fumbled at the ropes that held her bound to the chair. Soon, they loosened and her arms were freed. After a bit more untying, she was completely free. She stumbled out of the chair and collapsed on the ground. She was finally free. Foxy came scuttling over to her, asking over and over again, "Are you okay?"

        Bonnie nodded. "Help me out, please. I don't know where I am."

        "It's okay," Foxy said after a big, long cough. It sounded painful. "They took me too."

        Bonnie's eyes widened. Foxy was taken as well? Did he remember the process? How did he escape? She wanted to just shower him with questions, but her mind was already occupied with too much. She let it out with a final, "Let's go."

        Foxy helped her up. Her legs felt like jello. From sitting down for an immense time, it hurt really bad to stand up. Foxy supported her as they walked to the door and out of it, being bathed in sudden silver light.

        Bonnie couldn't help but look up at Foxy's face. When she did, what she saw was horrifying.

        Under his eye, his eyelid was almost completely black, glistening with sweat. He looked so skinny he could break under simple pressure. His hair was greasy and stringy, and one of his eyes was swollen shut, black all around it.