The Bond [REMAKE]

Ch 2

"Bold."/"Bold italic" : animatronic is talking/animatronic is talking in mind

"Normal."/"Normal italic." : human is talking/human is talking in mind

***

Michael darted out of the room, footsteps rushing downstairs with a small crumpled note in his hand, containing an address and telephone number. He trotted up the stairs, going to the kitchen and calling the number on the note, humming softly. This morning was quite quiet, there was no disturbance whatsoever from the animatronic with the incomplete unit because he had been charging since yesterday. Talking about Ennard, now his attention was turned to the end of the living room. The tall robot was deactivated, Michael stopped walking towards the kitchen to move closer to him.

He was still a bit upset about what happened to the ceiling in the study room, a little revenge wouldn't hurt at all, right?

Standing right in front of Ennard made him realize how big the animatronic was compared to him; stupid thinking, of course that was obvious. However, he didn't really expect Ennard to be this tall, almost three meters. Even so, Ennard can adjust his own body, raise or shorten it until he fits inside without any problems. His stomach churned with nausea at the reminder of Ennard needing to enter him from time to time. Not a pleasant feeling in the slightest. Really.

Both feet shifted on his forefoots, tiptoeing to take the clown mask from Ennard's face. He shuddered briefly at the blank stare of the blue robotic eyes, the metal frame forming a face, and the rancid smell. Damn it, maybe because he went back and forth into his body so much that he smelled like blood and carrion. Next time Michael would spray that prick with a bottle of perfume.

After successfully getting what he wanted, he quietly stepped away, going up to the second floor again. He opened the door to the clothes drying area. The place was like a wide balcony with a concrete floor with a waist-high barrier and a transparent roof. After entering, he turned left, where a broken, unused single-tub washing machine was lying there. Father never threw it away because he said he would fix it, but in the end they bought a new one anyway.

The back of the machine could be opened, usually he hid his test papers where he got bad grades, so that place was full of papers even though he used to be one of the top students. Most history lessons, he hated remembering the past. He put the mask inside, then stood up after closing it carelessly. Feeling satisfied, Michael set his initial goal of heading to the kitchen.

He took the telephone receiver and his finger pressed the dials even though his eyes were focused on the number on the note; the number of one of the grocery stores that is short of employees. He saw an announcement looking for new employees when he was taking a walk in the middle of the night a few weeks ago, then wrote it down as a reminder in case he needed one. He hoped there was still a job vacancy available there.

["Good morning! With the Orlando Grocery Store here, how can I help you?"]

"Hi," Michael cleared his throat. "Good morning, I was wondering if you still need new employees or ... has anyone taken your job offer?" He twirled the ends of his brown hair anxiously, a smile forced upwards but ending up crooked.

["Ah, do you want to apply to work here? Because we still lack people."]

Pretty perfect morning.

"Yeah," he answered, shoulders starting to relax knowing he had a chance. "Please."

["Good! You can come today and start working."]

"No interview?"

["No, we are really short of manpower and the shop is quite busy, so you can go straight to work. What's your name?"]