Let's Be a Band! - a FNaF fanfiction DISCONTINUED

(8) Questions?..

She looked around and down at her hand. Though, not her hand. It was silver-ish and she could see right through it. She looked over to the yellow bear sloped against the wall. Fredbear? No, it had a black bowtie and hat. Its eyes looked... very odd. There was a white flicker in the eyes at times but at random. She didn't know what it meant, and she didn't want to know.

She looked behind her to see a lot of blood. Not even joking. It was only a small puddle—but it kept flowing—from?—

Her. Blood dripped down her chest and onto the floor—cruel, crimson blood. Put her hand on her chest, apparently trying to cover the mess. But she wasn't scared. She already got through that part. The part of panic and despair, the part of crying in agony as she lay on the floor. She got through that already.

She now had to just get through the fact that she was dead. Forever dead. Never coming back. Never seeing her friends again. Never seeing her parents again. Never seeing Chica or the animatronic band again.

Why would she think about that, though? The animatronics. Why when she was dead, would she think, "aw man, I can't see the animatronics again"?

She thought about the bunny. Spring Bonnie. Her friend. Sad. And she thought about that man. Anger.

She turned around to lock eyes with the bear for a moment.

"Wha—?" she stuttered.

The moment ended quickly, though. The bear's eyes went dark, and she blinked.

She.

She?

Her name.

Her name was there, somewhere.

She sat down, not bothered by the blood she was sitting in—or hovering over because she didn't get any on her skirt. She rubbed her head. What had happened? How long had it been since she woke up? She was dead, right? Or not right—she could still see and hear and smell, but she looked strange. She decided to get up and float to the door that was the only door there in that large room. She put a hand on the door. Why wasn't it like, going through? Like in those ghost movies where people's hands could pass through walls and people—why wasn't her hand doing the same to the door?

She tried to push through, but it just felt like she was trying to move a bunch of bricks. She then put a hand on her chest. The blood had stopped. It wasn't blood. There were no stains on her shirt, skirt, or her hands or legs. Only that big puddle on the side of the room when she woke up. Nothing was there when she last looked. But as she glanced over, she saw a girl with messy blonde hair laying on the floor, with her eyes closed.

Oh.

So she was just floating around her body. Great. She looked at her head, but couldn't find her bow. Had she dropped it when she followed the bunny in?

The bunny.

No, the bunny didn't do this—she would have remembered it. No, the man did this. William.

"I am the first," she said mysteriously. "But nothing can change that. I hope nothing else happens."

Her fingers drummed one after another on the table. She was bored. She was bored of staying in that little room, not knowing what would happen or what she was meant to do to stop that man. She was bored of looking at that bear in the corner, wondering.

She was bored of—

The door pushed open.

Bonnie?

Spring Bonne.

Spring Bonnie walked through the door, dragging something with him. At that very moment he came in, an announcement came from the loud speakers: "Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place will be closing in 30 minutes."

She looked up in shock. Closing? How long had she been there for? It felt like a few minutes had gone by.

"We will be taking a one-day break for the animatronic's to get ready for their shows. Enjoy that pizza while it's out!"

Spring Bonnie looked up at the speakers too, then carried on with what he was doing. He pulled two orange chicken-looking feet through the door. Then a torso, then a chicken head.

What was he doing with Chica?