Five Nights At Freddy's Sister Location 2

15) Speak to me in riddles

Underneath the glaring neon lights of Fazbear Industries, the building loomed like a titan, a dark silhouette against a starlit sky. The expansive complex was reminiscent of a mall, with three stories of echoing halls filled with forgotten memories, rusted machinery, and the remnants of childhood laughter. The air was thick with an uneasy silence, broken only by the distant hum of old animatronics and the clattering of loose screws.

Amidst a sense of foreboding, she met Michael, the old security guard. Michael was a relic himself, a man weathered by time and heavy burdens, his hair as white as the pale moonlight streaming through the cracks. His eyes held stories as profound as the history steeped in the walls of Fazbear Industries. An unexpected friendship blossomed between them, rooted in shared solitude and Michael's understanding nature.

"Come along, Emily," Michael said with a gentle chuckle, his voice hoarse yet warm. "I know a place where we can grab something to eat."

Curiosity piqued, Emily followed him through the winding hallways filled with old posters depicting joyful children and their animatronic companions. The lights flickered overhead, casting shadows that seemed to dance along the walls, reflecting the odd liminality of the space.

They stepped into an old pizzeria tucked away at the end of a fading corridor—the lights within dimmed and flickering like a dying heartbeat. Still, it held an odd charm, reminding Emily of her own childhood birthday parties. Large, stained tables lined the room, each one decorated with chipped ceramic plates depicting cartoonish animatronics frozen in time.

Michael motioned for her to sit down while he rummaged through the adjacent counter. "I'll whip up something for you," he promised, his hands deftly navigating the clutter of old pizza boxes and utensils.

As he worked, the soft sounds of brick and mortar filled the silence—an unsettling ambiance that hung in the air. Emily watched him, her heart fluttering with both trepidation and admiration for the man before her.

"This place used to be a family destination," Michael began, his voice steady but tinged with sadness. "Scott Cawthon built this empire from the ground up after he lost everything, but... it's complicated."

She leaned closer, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

He paused, glancing toward the corners of the room as if expecting shadows to shift. "Scott had a tragic past. The animatronics are not just machines; they were vessels of lost souls, trapped in a never-ending cycle of agony. One man's dark deeds mixed with the innocence of children who once laughed in this space."

Emily shivered as Michael handed her a steaming slice of pizza with a warm glass of soda. She accepted it with trembling fingers, her appetite overshadowed by an overwhelming sense of dread.

"Scott's greatest horror was William Afton," Michael continued, his voice growing hushed. "A man of serious darkness and chaos. He made choices that led to unspeakable acts. And in the end, he died by his own hands."

Her heart raced, each beat now a thundering drum in the void. "What did he do?"

Michael's gaze hardened, a flicker of pain shimmering within his depths. "Afton became a puppet master, treating lives with brutality, including that of young children. He killed them they took over animatronics. Charles however quite possibly had attempted to do the same."

Emily's stomach dropped. 

Michael reached out and gently placed a hand over hers, grounding her. "It's difficult to explain. You may not remember, but the history of this pizzeria runs deep. Children went missing, Emily. I sound like a broken record but it's important. Each disappearance is a thread woven into the darkness of Fazbear Industries. 

Shivers coursed down her spine as she registered the implications of his revelation. Memories that she thought were long buried began to surface—whispers of laughter and shadows that weren't just figments of her imagination.

"I'm so confused, is Scott a bad guy or a good guy?"

"Scott is the mastermind behind the horrors of the industry. He created the nightmares and pulls the strings unseen. It's a bit hard to tell whether or not he's a good guy or a bad guy. He just throws things in and sits back seeing how things play out. He's an enigma. Just when we think we've got him all figured out he does the complete opposite. Let's just relax. We can try to stop him but...it's hard to stop someone who created you, someone who knows everything about you, but I wonder...what if you are recreated in a story by someone else? would he still be able to figure you out?" Michael said, reinforcing her belief that even in the depths of despair, there lay a chance for redemption.

The walls felt like they were closing in, the pizzeria's atmosphere thickening with unseen eyes and murmurs of long-lost spirits. All at once, the laughter of the animatronics seemed to echo in her ears—a haunting serenade of life and death.

"Are you afraid?" Michael asked softly, concern etched on his features.

Emily shook her head, feeling an odd rush of defiance course through her. "No. I want to learn more. This history—this darkness—it's part of who I am, isn't it?"

Michael smiled, his weathered face softening in the low light. "That's the spirit. Just remember, within every shadow lies the potential for light to emerge, and it's our choice to reclaim our stories. You're important here...I feel there's a strange connection between you and the Aftons. I just can't put a finger on it."

As they shared the slice of pizza, the room felt alive with echoes of the past and the promise of new beginnings, subtle yet tangible, wrapping itself around them like a protective shroud. Through the darkness, Emily began to grasp the power of her own lineage—the resilience lying dormant within her waiting for recognition.

Outside, the wind howled, rattling the windows of Fazbear Industries, and the night promised much more than just fears. It was a pulse, a heart beating fiercely in the darkness, determined not to be silenced. She would not allow the shadows to consume her spirit. She had friends to hold onto and histories yet to unravel—her own and those that connected them all.

And somewhere within the halls of fear, she found strength to face whatever fate had in store.