FNAF: The Case Of The Missing Children

Chapter 5: Just The Beginning

As Dennie and Xavier woke up, the weather outside was still foggy and rainy, casting a gloomy pall over their mood. The relentless patter of raindrops against the window served as a constant reminder of the grim atmosphere surrounding their investigation. They washed up and got dressed, their minds focused on the daunting task ahead. Dennie, lighting a cigarette, took a deep drag and exhaled slowly. "We're gonna head to Henry's and show him these photos," he said, the smoke curling around his face.

Xavier nodded, the tension evident in his posture. "Yeah... We're gonna see what he thinks about these photos," he agreed, his voice laced with determination.

They moved to the car, and as Xavier looked out the rain-streaked window, he noted how the darkness still lingered despite the early hour, adding to the sense of foreboding that hung in the air. Dennie, starting the engine, spoke with a weary tone, "Shit... this case is gonna be a hell of a case. So far, we have no leads. Tomorrow we're gonna have to be at the pizzeria during the day shift, so we're gonna have to ask Henry not to shut down the pizzeria for maintenance so soon."

Xavier listened intently, his mind racing with thoughts of their next steps. "Yeah, I agree. We're gonna interrogate the employees afterward," he replied, his resolve hardening.

After a drive that felt longer than it actually was, they arrived back at Henry's house. The exterior looked even more desolate in the dreary weather, and the sense of urgency grew stronger. Henry opened the door, a hopeful yet tired look on his face. "Any leads?" he asked, his voice tinged with anticipation.

Xavier responded, "Yeah. We need to go inside first," his tone serious.

They entered the house and sat down, the weight of their findings pressing heavily on their shoulders. Dennie spoke, his voice grave, "If you're squeamish, you might not wanna see it."

Henry, bracing himself, replied, "I'll be fine," though his eyes betrayed a hint of apprehension.

Dennie nodded at Xavier, who then placed the photos on the table. The images depicted the animatronics with red fluid and pus seeping from their joints, the unsettling sight telling a story of its own. The photos captured the macabre details in stark clarity, the fluids glistening ominously under the flash of the camera.

Henry leaned in, his face paling as he examined the photos. "What... what is this?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Dennie took a deep breath before explaining, "We found these last night. The animatronics are leaking some kind of fluid, and it's not just oil or grease. It looks like something organic."

Henry's expression turned to one of horror and disbelief. "This... this can't be. I designed them myself. There shouldn't be anything like this," he stammered, his hands trembling slightly.

Xavier chimed in, his tone firm, "We need to know who had access to these animatronics. Who could have tampered with them?"

Henry, shaking his head slowly, replied, "Only a few people. Myself, my partner William Afton, and the maintenance crew. But none of them would do something like this... at least, I don't think so."

Dennie frowned, thinking deeply about the implications. "We need to talk to everyone who had access. We also need to keep the pizzeria open for now, despite the maintenance. We need to observe the animatronics during the day shift and see if we can catch anything unusual."

Henry nodded, still visibly shaken by the disturbing revelation. "I'll make the arrangements. But please, find out what's happening. This place was supposed to be safe, a place for kids to have fun," he said, his voice filled with a mix of desperation and hope.

Xavier, his resolve hardening even further, assured him, "We will, Henry. We'll get to the bottom of this."

With their next steps crystallized, Dennie and Xavier departed from Henry's house, the weight of their investigation pressing down on them with increasing intensity. They were acutely aware that the elusive answers they sought lay concealed within the depths of the pizzeria, and their resolve to unearth them burned unyielding, undeterred by any potential consequences. The journey back to the hotel unfolded in solemn silence, each detective enveloped in their own labyrinth of thoughts, grappling with the ominous and convoluted trajectory their investigation had taken. Outside, the rain persisted in its steady descent, its rhythmic patter serving as a haunting backdrop to their relentless pursuit of truth, foreshadowing further revelations yet to be uncovered in the shadows ahead.