The Mask We Bear

Chapter Three:1979

William Afton closed the door behind him, the hum of Circus Baby's systems still echoing faintly in the warehouse. The night was quiet, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of the diner that had just closed for the day. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, excitement buzzing through him like the flickering lights overhead.

As he drove home, his mind raced with visions of expansion—new animatronics, thrilling designs, and interactive experiences that would captivate not just Elizabeth but every child that walked through the doors of Fazbear's. He could already imagine their laughter, the joy lighting up their faces. But a shadow crept into his thoughts; doubts about the cost and safety of his ambitious plans loomed large.

Upon arriving home, he found Elizabeth fast asleep, her birthday cake still untouched on the counter, its frosting glistening under the kitchen lights. He tiptoed over, careful not to wake her, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. She was his world, the motivation behind every blueprint and every animatronic. He would do anything to make her smile.

The next morning, William awoke with a renewed sense of purpose. He pulled out his sketches, refining his ideas for Circus Baby. He wanted her to be perfect, to embody everything that a child could dream of. But as he worked, a nagging feeling lingered in the back of his mind. The animatronics, no matter how entertaining, were also a reflection of him—his choices, his past.

Later that afternoon, William met Henry at the diner, excitement buzzing between them like static electricity. "I've been thinking about the next phase," William said, his eyes glinting with ambition. "What if we add more interactive elements? Imagine a stage show that combines animatronics and live performers. We could really bring the characters to life!"

Henry raised an eyebrow. "That sounds risky, Will. You know how unpredictable they can be. And with the new guy struggling, I don't want to put too much pressure on the staff."

"Trust me, Hank. I have a vision, and if we execute it right, it'll be a game-changer. The kids will love it," William replied, his tone both persuasive and passionate.

After a moment of contemplation, Henry sighed. "Alright, let's brainstorm. But we need to ensure safety is our top priority. If anything goes wrong—"

"It won't," William interjected. "We just need to be careful."

They dove into planning, sketching ideas for the new show, discussing lighting and effects, and the kinds of performances they could incorporate. William's mind raced with possibilities, fueled by a mix of adrenaline and a hint of something darker lurking in the corners of his thoughts.

As the day turned to night, the diner was filled with laughter and the sounds of children enjoying themselves. But William could feel a tension in the air, an undercurrent that made him uneasy. He glanced around the room, watching the kids as they interacted with Circus Baby and the other animatronics. For every joyful smile, there was a whisper of something unsettling, a reminder of the risks involved.

That night, William returned to the warehouse, ready to put the finishing touches on Circus Baby. He worked tirelessly, every click and whirr of machinery resonating with his fervor. But as he connected wires and adjusted mechanisms, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was tampering with forces he didn't fully understand.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the warehouse, causing him to jump back. Heart racing, he grabbed a flashlight and made his way toward the source of the noise. The flickering light illuminated shadows dancing against the walls, and William felt a chill run down his spine.

"Hello?" he called out, his voice steady despite the fear bubbling within him. No response.

He approached the back of the warehouse where he stored older animatronics, and the sight that greeted him sent a jolt of adrenaline through his veins. One of the older models—a prototype he had abandoned—lay toppled over, its eyes flickering ominously in the dark.

William sighed, a mixture of frustration and unease. "What a mess," he muttered, crouching to inspect the fallen animatronic. As he reached out to right it, a cold draft whispered through the warehouse, sending a shiver down his spine.

He paused, feeling an inexplicable sense of being watched. The air felt heavy, almost charged with a strange energy. Shaking off the sensation, he propped the animatronic back up and went to his desk to jot down some notes.

The thoughts of expansion swirled in his mind, but he couldn't ignore the warning signs. As the night deepened, the tension in the warehouse grew palpable, and William realized he might be crossing a line. But ambition has a way of clouding judgment, and he found himself more determined than ever.

As the clock ticked toward midnight, he decided to call Henry again. "We need to move forward with the plans for the show. I can feel it, Hank. This could be something big."

Henry's voice on the other end was cautious. "Just remember what we talked about—safety first. I don't want you pushing too hard."

"Trust me. I know what I'm doing," William said, though a part of him wondered if he truly did.

As he hung up, the warehouse fell silent once more. The weight of his ambition pressed down on him, and for a fleeting moment, he considered the cost of his dreams. But as he looked at the sketches of Circus Baby, he shook off the doubt and let his excitement propel him forward.

Little did he know, the shadows in the warehouse were beginning to stir, whispering secrets of a darker past that would soon intertwine with his ambitious future.