The Saviour of Five Nights at Freddy's

38 3 2
                                    

"Oh thank God." Mark heaved a sigh of relief, setting the monitor down. Finally, his shift was over. Springtrap was a real pain in the ass to deal with this time, but as he'd been promised this was his final shift. He had been going at it for six nights now, coming back to even greater challenges and terrors than the night before.

There were all these weird hallucinations too, he swore he saw a Phantom Foxy and Balloon Boy several times throughout his shifts. And Springtrap's little visits did nothing to help his anxiety.

But now it was all over. He braved the shifts, dealt with bullshit company policies, and kept the place from burning down. He even beat the silly arcade games sprawled about the office, the ones that'd conviently  switch on just before his shift would start. He also managed to break the games, but that was beside the point.

The point was; he was done. And he never had to return to the stupid job again. He didn't even care about the damn paycheck anymore, he just wanted to get the absolute fuck away and never come back. Come tomorrow he was going to a therapist to come to terms with it all. Had it not been for his alcohol intolerance he'd have chosen the bar instead.

He stood up in his place, making sure he still had his things. In his peripheral vision, something caught his eyes. He glanced up to it, finding that next to the box of masks and other various merchandise, was what looked like a small child. One he could've sworn was never there before. They sported a yellow jumper, and a white bib that displayed a 'Let's Eat!' on it's front. All with what looked to be a Chica mask.

Mark froze, glad to see the child appeared to be sleeping. How did they even get in here? Surely he'd have noticed her if she were to come in. But then again, kids, specifically this one, are just like the animatronics they adored so much- Both had a habit of popping up out of nowhere.

He flinched when she shifted, muttering in her sleep, worried she'd wake up at some point. As adorable and utterly harmless she seemed, he didn't trust the ordeal. It didn't exactly sit right with him. After all he went through, how could he?

Though at the same time, he couldn't just leave her there. It felt inhumane to leave a small child, even if they resembled Chica, alone in a dangerous facility such as this. Plus, there was a chance he was just paranoid from the shift still. There was always the chance that she was just another regular little kid.

"Um..." he started, making his way over to her. He squatted to her level, finding bronze hair behind her supposed mask. It was messy and dirty but adorable nonetheless. "Kid," he decided. "you shouldn't be here you know." he took her arm and shook it, reminding himself to be gentle.

She murmured, cracking her eyes open. "Huh?" she squeaked. A look of confusion crossed her face, and she propped herself against the box, trying to sit up. She glanced up to him with crossed eyes, looking to her own hands, the only part of her body the jumper didn't cover up.

"Where...?" she murmured, unable to finish.

"You're in my office. Or what was my office anyway. Come on, my shift's over, and I can't just leave you in here."

"You're-" she drew in a breath, "you're the security guard?" she asked.

"Technically, yes."

"Did you....am I free?" she asked.

"What?" Mark asked, confused himself.

She brought her hands to her face. "I-I'm free." she stated. Her confused expression quickly converted to one of joy. "I'm free!"

"Yeah, you're free, hurray! Congratulations and all, but we should really get going." Mark said, starting to grow impatient. He should've left five minutes ago, and the daytime crew were sure to come in any moment now.

Our Saviour (Dias de Muertos) Where stories live. Discover now