It was official. On this day, Jason Silva Fox declared that he hated ghosts, especially ones found in apparently haunted video games. Marionette was firmly in agreement with him, petrified in shock at the figure before her. A young girl no older than say six or seven, tire tracks on her translucent body endlessly drenched in rainwater. Black, sludge-like tear stains poured down her cheeks like the familiar mask of The Puppet animatronic from the 80s. Was this heartbreaking sight the spirit allegedly bound to that mechanical creature? Were those rumors true to life? Poor girl...so young...so restless. None of this could be real; there was no way it was. Something about it seemed too visceral to be real. Stepping over gore, blood drawn down walls like a sick art show, missing posters decayed from years of weathering: only those of sick mind and body could have let such a nightmare fester in this room.
As soon as it came, it went, and with it, the visions dissipated into the darkness of the closet, leaving both tweens illuminated by the artificial hall light brazenly shining through the ajar door. "Nette...?" Jason began, regaining his senses and stifling the fear crushing his heart and lungs like tin cans under the ocean. He met his friend's gaze, unbridled horror reflected in her eyes. "Nette, whatever just happened to us both, let's not talk about it until later." Marionette nodded in agreement, too afraid to speak and in seconds, both crept away from the closet to their classroom where Evan was primed to meet them, visibly spooked for reasons they were hoping was not true.
{Did you see it too?} he signed, curious yet anxious of the answer. The trembling nod proved him right, to nobody's delight at all. "OK, let's pray that whatever that was, was just a prank or some sick, mass hallucination." Marionette said, taking in a breath to calm her racing heart as she stepped into the room. The twins nodded to themselves; if both of them had been plagued by this twisted vision as well as their friend, then they hoped that their younger siblings hadn't suffered something similar.
-----
"So...what's it like being dead?" Peter wondered absentmindedly, plopped on the floor with his little wooden blocks for some schoolwork. He was a little upset that his block building had been interrupted (math was hard after all). "It's like being alive, but you're dead." the little ghost replied, joining the young boy in his block building with fun colorful numbers and tricky problems (10+10=???) to try and solve them. "Is it sad?" Peter asked again, his dumbfounded tone indicating that he had understood nothing. "Very sad. We can't hug people." the ghost answered. Peter reached out and attempted to hug the ghost to no avail, pouting at his inability to do so. "That is sad." he agreed. The specter nodded again. "It is...but hopefully we won't be like this anymore. We're gonna move on one day once we've gotten revenge against the bad man who killed us." A tiny smile across the greyed face. Some optimism in this dismal existence.
-----
"But...what can we do to help you? You're dead, and we're just kids." Freddy queried, trying to subtly talk to the undead while hurrying through his schoolwork, praying to Scott that the teacher would not return. "You can talk to people for us. You're not-deaded enough so people listen." the greyed spirit spoke, a cheerful glint to its frozen visage of depression. "If this is true then, what kind of things would we be asking? And who would we be talking to?" Bonnie questioned, leaning over from his desk. "I dunno...but everyone else says to stay with you because we're part of you." the young ghost answered. Both boys shared a look as their chicken companion popped herself into the discussion, ignoring as her work papers fell aside across the floorboards. "Part of us..? What in tarnation d'ya mean by that?"
"...You know exactly what we mean."
-----
"I don't understand it. It couldn't have been a hallucination; Nette saw what happened. But, there is no way that shit was real." Jason was adamant that the closet incident had not been what it seemed. A hallucination it was not, he was certain. Though impossible to discern from reality, a mere illusion perpetrated by mental sickness could only affect the individual, never a group. And yet, that is exactly what those specters had done. "I don't know what that was...but it had to have meant something. Missing posters, dead children, bloodstained walls, even the names on the posters; does that not ring a bell to anyone?" Marionette added. The logo to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza lay unfinished on her page. {I'd ask why the spirits of a murder from the 80s are haunting us now, but if those rumors about the game are true, then I think it's clear why.} Evan didn't like where this was leading. He'd read enough material about the tragic tales of Fazbear Ent.'s businesses. Murders dating back all the way to 1956, a child getting his head crushed, another losing his frontal lobe, animatronic creations reeking of death and health hazards, it was a never ending laundry list of unforgivable sins.
YOU ARE READING
School Days
FanfictionIt's another day at school for Freddy and his friends, but when a case of murdered children long thought to have gone cold arises, the gang can't help but investigate as the ghosts of the past rear their heads with a thirst of justice. Rated MATURE...
