Absurdist Phone Guy Stuffed in a Suit

4 - Getaway

Fritz Smith

The door was open, the light of the room beyond almost calling Fritz towards it. No matter what, he knew he had to escape – that creature would come back, and he didn't want to be anywhere near it when it did. Slowly, he crept up to the hole in the door, peeking through and hoping nothing would stare back. Luckily, all that met his gaze was what looked like some sort office, and so he pressed onward.

To his left and right were vents. He'd always notice William enter from left, so he figured it was a safe bet, opening the vent and barely managing to squeeze inside. Fritz had never been a fan of tight spaces, and this vent was no exception. Haha, nothing compared to that Freddy suit though. He slowly moved forward – his bulky frame making traversing difficult, but not impossible. And soon, he was out!

What met him was a massive elevator, as well as two metal doors that seemed even harder to break than the one that creature had destroyed. He checked them both – locked. It was no matter; he remembered taking an elevator like this, and it only ever had one destination. Out.

Fritz walked inside and gingerly tapped the glowing button to his left. With a jolt, the doors swung shut, and the elevator began to steadily ascend. He was so close to being free. The wait was agonizing. 20 seconds passed by before he heard a ding and the doors swung open. It was dark outside, but not as dark as it had been inside the facility. He emerged into a small building that looked like yet another office. Through the windows, he could see the stars. Slowly, he stepped forward, metal becoming concrete, then dirt.

He was free. But so what? His body was in shambles, his left eye missing. Several pieces of exposed wiring let out sparks as he walked. And what would he do? Sure, he didn't particularly like his old job, but it was something to do. Something his body could do. Christ, his animatronic body. It was better than dying, he supposed, but there was nothing left of him. No proof that he was anything other than this stupid machine. Could he even prove it to himself, ever know if his previous life was but a fabrication born of his mind? Fritz didn't know. He pushed the thought aside. He couldn't dwell on it. He needed to move forward.

He wished William was here. William could fix him – save him. But William was gone. Where? Fritz didn't know. But William would surely understand why he left.

His first order of business was to find a way to fix himself. Doing it himself was completely out of the question. Had he tried, he'd probably end up more broken than that thing that attacked him. Someone else had to fix him, someone experienced with animatronics. Fritz spend a moment feeling his face, noting the difference between the jagged metal on his left side and smooth, immaculate plastic on the right. It wasn't like he could just waltz up to a repairman. They weren't like a doctor's office, hah. And besides, he didn't have insurance. Or money. Yet another hurdle.

He had money in the bank – around a couple hundred; Freddy's didn't pay very well – but in his current state, he'd probably find more luck walking up to a repairman than a bank teller. At least one might wait a bit before they called the cops. So, he had nothing. And with the damage he incurred, Fritz couldn't help but worry he'd drop dead at any moment – he didn't know what was and wasn't a critical component. So, he'd have to get a bit creative.

The office with the elevator had a landline. He prayed it worked. Without a phone book, he was stuck with what lay in his memory – which was practically nothing. His best shot was probably Jeremy Fitzgerald, a previous night guard that had some experience working with the animatronics, but most importantly, one Fritz had bothered to stay in contact with... at least for a while.

When Jeremy had his accident, he may of slightly embezzled the details of the aftermath to his colleagues. Jeremy was probably still mad at him at that. It felt silly thinking about it now – he was in the body of a robotic fox, why should this be on his mind? – but he was afraid of facing Jeremy. Not as much as he was afraid of ending up like how he was in that warehouse, though. Fritz picked up the phone, punched Jermeny's number in, then waited in anticipation.