❝ 𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐔𝐒, 𝐁𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐎𝐑 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐃. 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑶𝑵𝑳𝒀 𝑮𝑶𝑻... ❞
╰┈➤ 🌠 a basic fanfic where you die and wake up in the fnaf movie universe.
...or is there more beneath the...
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you chose to GO BACK INSIDE!
No way were you going to get caught! They could arrest you for breaking and entering (and stealing the plushies stuffed into your pockets) and you didn’t feel like wearing orange every day.
The pizzeria was pretty big. You could hide out til morning and escape when that car is gone!
You snuck through the archway again, hoping to find a good spot to hide-
A violent pain came from your back. Something stabbed into it, again, and again, and again. You felt a blade ripping away at your flesh, and a strange dullness quelling the pain.
You fell to your knees. Shaky arms held up your bleeding body. You looked over your shoulder.
Those familiar, sinister, silver eyes stared into yours.
No…this couldn’t be it! This couldn’t be real! You can’t DIE like this!
With a distorted chuckle, the torn yellow mascot hand plunged the knife right into you.
And you were gone. You lost all feeling of your body. Even your mind felt like it was barely there at all. But you knew, deep down, you still existed somewhere. Bleeding out, until you rotted and decayed.
You don't know how long you drifted in the void. Maybe a minute, perhaps years. You couldn’t remember. You lost all sense of time and space.
And then, your eyes opened.
But you didn’t find yourself home after what seemed like a dream. Oh, no. No no no no no no NO!
You were in the ultimate custom night office.
Are you FAZFUCKING kidding me right now?!
And if that wasn’t bad enough, you got jumpscared immediately.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”
The void greeted you again, this time with the company of someone else. Someone familiar and purple.
Oh god, PLEASE. NO, ANYONE BUT HIM!
NOT MR. HIPPO!
“My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But, uh, y'know, I-I don't feel too bad about it. After all, if... if it weren't from me, it would've just been from someone else, y'know? I guess what I'm trying to say is, life... life goes on. W-well, from—for everyone else, life goes on. Not... not for you. You're... you're dead. But that's neither here nor there. It reminds me of one summer day in the park. I was having just a delightful picnic with my good friend Orville. And I said to him, I said, "Orville, I... I have a story." And he said to me, "What's the significance of the story?" And... I said to him, "Orville, not every story has to have significance, y'know? Sometimes, a... y'know, sometimes, a story's just a story. You try to read into every little thing, and find meaning in everything anyone says, you'll just drive yourself crazy. Had a friend do it once. Wasn't pretty. We talked about it for years. And then not only that, but... you'll likely end up believing something you shouldn't believe, thinking something you shouldn't think, o-o-or assuming something you shouldn't assume. Y'know? Sometimes," I said, "A story is-is just a story, so just be quiet for one second of your life and eat your sandwich, okay?" Of course, it was only then I'd realized I'd made sandwiches, and... poor Orville was having such difficulty eating it! Elephants have those clumsy hands, y'know? Actually, I-I suppose that's the problem. They don't have hands at all, do they? They're f—they're all feet! And I-I couldn't imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet. Now, if I recall correctly, there was a bakery nearby. I said to him, "Orville, let me go get you some rye bread." Now, I'm unsure if elephants enjoy rye bread, but I assure you that Orville does. Now, this was on a Tuesday, which was good, because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough bread on Monday, and threw it out Wednesday... Or rather, they sold it at a discount for people wanting to feed it to the ducks, and then, prob'ly at the end of the day, finally, they threw it all out. I-I don't recall. I do remember a man who would bring his son to the bakery every Wednesday, and... then go feed the ducks. He would buy all of the sourdough bread. Of course, y'know, you're not supposed to feed the ducks sourdough bread at all. It swells up in their stomach, and then they all die. At, uh, at least... at least, that's what I've heard. Y'know, I-I never saw any ducks die myself, but I did notice a substantial decrease in the duck population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him that he was killing the ducks by feeding them sourdough bread! And if you want my opinion on the matter—heh, and I told Orville this as well—if you wanna feed ducks, or birds of any kind, for that matter, it's best to buy seed. I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort don't occur in nature. They don't grow on trees o-or spring up from the bushes. I don't think birds know what to do with bread. What was I saying? Oh oh, yes yes. So I bought Orville some rye bread. What a fine day it was.”
By the time he was done, you wished you were fully dead. This must be hell. Your own personal hell.
Someone, please just end my misery.
You woke up again, in a third, unfamiliar area. It was dark. You could barely see through the eyeholes of the mask.
You couldn’t feel. You couldn’t smell. You couldn’t taste. As you glanced down at your mechanical arm, you knew you weren’t ‘you’ anymore.
The endoskeleton eyelids lifted as a flashback played over your mind.
How you woke up here. How you died. How you got killed.
And how you got here, to this world, in the first place. You finally remembered. That was the worst memory of all.
BAD ENDING - You Died
Proceed to route B.
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This was fun to write.
Lmao rip ALL the people who chose A. Surprisingly, nobody chose B so far.
Might take a while to update. Sorry, originally wanted to upload this and option B at the same time but y’know. Life :’)
