FNIA: Heart within the heartless

History of Hate

Author warning: This chapter contains blood, and some intense horror moments.

The years of darkness, stillness, and absolute nothingness that was this space was torture.  The occasional, brief, and infinitely distant sound of people speaking added on to the torment. To be so close yet so far from anyone, to feel like a lost or discarded toy.....it was worse than any death.

Something in the darkness made a sound, it sounded like a explosion in comparison to the tens of thousands of hours of absolute silence that came before it. The sound left just as fast as it came, then again a little while later, the sound of something hitting the floor near by. Then all of a sudden energy flows through the room for the first time in years, then lights, voices, movement....life.

From behind the plastic casing, the warmth of the light is felt through, and is blinding. Neither one of the girls in the plastic can move, can't even open their eyes further then the small squint that they have now. Staring at the floor, looking at the feet of these people, they stand in this still statue like state.

Both girls are able to hear everything more clearly once the plastic wrap is removed. The emotional moment that the grouped shared, the affection, and the fact that these woman are just like them.

They all leave the stage, the sounds of them cleaning not to far away as they slowly charge up. Not to long after the man returns, Marcus is his name. He walks near by, he knows some of the verbal commands as he ask for their charging progress. They respond, but one doesn't need to respond. The other two girls can feel it....she's fully charged and powered up.

The boot up sequence begins, it'll take three minutes to finish, but the third companion to this trio is already on the move towards him. The one who was going to be known as Monty gator. She was supposed to be the third character to this group, the operators never finished her, and never even started Freddy. This isn't a synthetic with a conciseness, this is just a semi synthetic body without a personality...one that's on autopilot.

The husk had him in its grasp, two minutes thirty seconds left. The cracking of something in his body echoed out in this area, his gasp, his small yelp, driving the two insane as they were stuck, left to do nothing but wait. Two minutes left.

The footsteps lead to the back repair room behind the stage. The thoughts running through both of their heads, what is done during dress protocol. First you must go to bind the target, once bound you have to remove any excess clothing on the subject...then open them up. If that happens and they get to the last step...his death will happen in less then five seconds. They still have one minute thirty seconds left till they can move.

Marcus was thrusted into the chair, unable to move as his arms are clamped to the arms of the chair, and his feet clamped to the front legs. He was still dazed, but he can still feel the blinding light on his eyes. As everything began to focus, his senses come back to him, and he's able to get his bearings.

There is a figure in the room, behind him, just out of his view rummaging around in the back. He tries to get out, half heartedly at first, but he comes back out from his daze and struggles properly. These binds are old, the metal isn't rusted, but the wood underneath is very withered. Shaking in the chair as much as he can it creaks, cracks, and splinters the wood as he moves.

Marcus didn't realize it until it was to late, the figure was back, and it forced the chair down as it pressed down into his shoulder. The cracking of the chair became explosive in this small room as one of the chair legs blew out from underneath him as a result of the force the figure used. It was the back left leg that got blow into pieces, the splintered remnants clatter as they skid across the floor, and unfortunately this thing has its weight pressed down to where the chair still sits flat on the floor.