Marcie the Mime: A Silent Story Fazbear Frights

Meeting the Afton's

The car sped down the empty road, the hum of the tires the only sound breaking the heavy silence. Rachel's hands gripped the wheel tightly, her knuckles white as she glanced at Marcie out of the corner of her eye. Her friend sat slumped in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window, her face pale and haunted. Her hair was a mess, matted and frizzy from sweat and stress, and her hands fidgeted in her lap.

Rachel couldn't take the silence anymore. She glanced at Marcie again, her voice sharp with both concern and frustration. "Marcie, this is the part where you tell me what the hell is going on."

Marcie didn't respond right away. Her eyes were fixed on the dark road ahead, her mind spinning with everything that had happened. She felt like a stranger in her own body, her thoughts fractured and disjointed. Finally, she let out a shaky breath and spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't know, Rachel," she said. "I don't know what's happening. I don't know why this is happening."

Rachel clenched her jaw, trying to keep her frustration in check. "Marcie, that thing—your animatronic—it's not normal. It's not just some malfunction. It talked to you. It knew things about you. How is that even possible?"

"I don't know!" Marcie snapped, her voice breaking. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I just... I wanted it to be different. I wanted it to be special."

Rachel glanced at her again, her tone softening. "Special how?"

Marcie wiped her face, her hands shaking. "I don't know. I was just trying to make something... something better. Something that would stand out, that would mean something. I spent so much time on it, so much of myself, and I didn't even realize..." She trailed off, her voice cracking.

"Realize what?" Rachel pressed gently.

"That I was putting more into it than I should have," Marcie said, her voice barely audible. "It wasn't just programming or mechanics. I was putting myself into it—my thoughts, my emotions, my fears. I wanted it to be alive, in a way. But I didn't think... I didn't think it would actually become alive."

Rachel tightened her grip on the wheel, her stomach churning. "That's not possible, Marcie. Machines can't come to life."

"I thought so too," Marcie whispered. "But it's not just a machine anymore. It's something else. And it's... it's tied to me."

Rachel swallowed hard, trying to process what Marcie was saying. She didn't want to believe it, but after what they had seen in the workshop, she couldn't deny that something was very, very wrong. "Tied to you how?" she asked.

Marcie shook her head. "I don't know. It keeps saying that I created it because I needed it. That it's part of me. I don't understand it, Rachel. I just know that it's not going to stop. Not until I... until I do something."

"Do what?" Rachel asked, her voice rising with urgency. "What does it want from you?"

"I don't know!" Marcie shouted, her voice breaking again. She leaned back against the seat, her chest heaving as tears filled her eyes. "I don't know what it wants. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Rachel exhaled sharply, trying to steady herself. "Okay," she said, her tone firm. "Okay, we'll figure this out. But we can't go back to the workshop. Not right now. That thing... whatever it is, it's dangerous."

Marcie nodded weakly, her body trembling. "I just want this to stop," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rachel reached over and squeezed Marcie's hand briefly, her grip reassuring. "We'll make it stop," she said. "I don't know how yet, but we will."