FNAF: The Case Of The Missing Children

Chapter 8: Steve Raglan

Another day of investigation dawned, shrouded in the overcast skies and persistent drizzle that had become a constant companion to Xavier and Dennie. Today's task was to meet Steve Raglan, a former employee who claimed he might have a lead on their case. The drive to his office was uneventful, the tension between the detectives palpable as they navigated through the rain-slicked streets.

They arrived at a nondescript office building, its exterior bearing the weary marks of years of service. The interior was dimly lit, with a musty smell that hinted at the passage of time and neglect. Xavier and Dennie were greeted by Steve Raglan, a man in his late forties with thinning hair and a well-trimmed stubble that framed his face. His glasses slid down his nose as he peered at them, a look of weary professionalism in his eyes.

"Xavier and Dennie, the detectives. Come in," Raglan said, his voice tinged with a mixture of relief and apprehension.

Xavier and Dennie entered the office and took their seats, their expressions serious as they settled into the worn leather chairs. The room was cluttered with stacks of papers, old photographs, and memorabilia from his time at the pizzeria. Xavier's gaze briefly wandered over a poster on the wall—an old promotional image featuring a man in a Springbonnie suit. The poster was faded, its edges curling, but its presence was unmistakable. "This guy has a long history with Freddy's," Xavier thought to himself. "That's a Fredbear's Family Diner poster."

Xavier broke the silence, his tone direct. "Let's cut to the chase, Mr. Raglan. What can you tell us about the employees and the history of the restaurant?"

Dennie leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Raglan as he continued. "Yes, Mr. Raglan. We need all the details you can provide. Anything that could help us with our investigation."

Raglan adjusted his glasses and stroked his stubble thoughtfully, his gaze drifting to a stack of old files on his desk. "Well," he began, his voice measured and deliberate, "in my opinion, Henry Emily is suspicious. But, then again, you never know. It could be anybody. Possibly even the janitor."

As Raglan spoke, Xavier's attention was drawn back to the Springbonnie poster. The image, though faded and worn, seemed to hold a deeper significance, a link to the past that might be crucial to understanding the present. "Fredbear's Family Diner," he mused silently, recognizing the connection to the pizzeria's origins.

Raglan continued, his voice gaining a hint of urgency. "I've worked with these people for years. Henry has always been a bit of an enigma—quiet, reserved. But the janitor, now he's a different story. He's been with the company almost as long as I have, and he's known for being... a bit odd."

Dennie interjected, his tone firm. "Odd in what way? Anything specific?"

Raglan's eyes flickered with thought. "He's always been... secretive. Keeps to himself. Rumors say he's had some personal issues, but nothing concrete. There were also a few incidents—strange noises, equipment failures—that he seemed unusually concerned about."

Xavier's gaze shifted around the office, taking in the cluttered space that seemed to hold echoes of a bygone era. "What about any connections to the missing children? Did you notice anything unusual or out of place during your time working there?"

Raglan shook his head, his expression conflicted. "I didn't see anything directly, but there were always whispers among the staff. Some people mentioned seeing things they couldn't explain. I don't know if it's connected, but it's worth considering."

Dennie nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Alright, Mr. Raglan. That's enough for now. We're going to head to the pizzeria and take a closer look. We might come back with more questions."

Raglan gave a curt nod, his face a mask of concern and resignation. "Understood. I hope you find what you're looking for. And be careful—there's more to that place than meets the eye."

With that, Xavier and Dennie stood up, offering their thanks before exiting the office. The rain had intensified, pounding against the pavement in rhythmic patterns as they made their way back to the car. Xavier's mind was already racing with the new information they had gathered. The Springbonnie poster, the mysterious janitor, and the unsettling whispers all pointed to deeper layers of the case they had yet to uncover.

As they drove back to the pizzeria, the somber rain continued to fall, the world outside a blur of gray and shadows. The investigation was far from over, and they were prepared to delve deeper into the dark history of Freddy's pizzeria, driven by the hope of finding answers that might bring them closer to solving the chilling mystery.

As Xavier and Dennie pulled up to the pizzeria, the dreary rain had intensified, creating a curtain of mist that added an eerie ambiance to their surroundings. The building loomed ahead, its lights flickering intermittently, casting long shadows on the rain-slicked pavement. The detectives made their way to the employees-only entrance, their expressions as grim as the weather.

They entered the backroom once again, where several employees were gathered, their faces reflecting a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. The atmosphere was thick with tension as Dennie and Xavier stepped inside, the door closing behind them with a soft click.

Dennie wasted no time in cutting to the heart of the matter. "Alright, enough of the bullshit here," he began, his voice stern and commanding. "We found a dead dog in the alleyway trash bags."

The statement hung in the air like a heavy fog, and the room erupted into a chorus of nervous murmurs. Some employees exchanged fearful glances, while others shifted uncomfortably in their seats. The reaction was varied, but the palpable sense of dread was universal.

Xavier followed up, his tone equally serious. "Soon, you'll all be up for questioning with the police. Make it easy on yourself and tell us the truth now. Or come forward if you're the maniac responsible for all of this."

A heavy silence fell over the group. Finally, one of the employees, a young woman with a worried expression, spoke up. "I swear, I had nothing to do with it. I've been here for years and I've never seen anything like that before."

Another employee, a middle-aged man with a rough demeanor, nodded in agreement. "Same here. I've worked in this place for too long to get involved in something like that. It's just a job to me."

The youngest of the group, barely out of his teens, looked visibly shaken. "I've only been here a few months. I was just doing my job, nothing more. I didn't see anything suspicious."

The final employee, a woman in her late thirties, cleared her throat and spoke with a resolute tone. "I've worked with the animatronics for years. If there's something going on, I don't know about it. I would never get involved in something like that."

Dennie and Xavier exchanged glances, their expressions inscrutable. Despite the employees' claims of innocence, the detectives remained unconvinced. There was something unsettling about the situation, a sense that there were deeper, darker currents beneath the surface.

Dennie finally broke the silence. "Alright. We'll be keeping tabs on all of you. Don't think you can hide anything from us. We'll be watching."

The employees nodded, some more resigned than others, as Dennie and Xavier turned on their heels and walked out of the room. The rain continued its relentless assault outside, the sound a constant reminder of the gravity of their task.

As they exited the pizzeria, Xavier couldn't shake the feeling that they were only scratching the surface of a much more sinister mystery. The employees' fear was palpable, but it was unclear whether it stemmed from genuine concern or something more troubling.

The detectives headed back to their car, the weight of the investigation pressing down on them. The case was far from closed, and as they drove away from the pizzeria, the rain blurred their view, mirroring the murky details of the case that still lay ahead.