Eyes of Purple

Eighty- Seven

​'Hello?

'Miss?

'Are you there?'

Jeremy.

'Hi...'

You honestly frightened me for a moment. Good job.

'I do my best.'

Are you alright?

'Maybe. I don't know... But I'm not scared anymore.'

I think you might be in shock, young one.

'That's probably true.'

Would you like me to get you something? Or to stay here?

'...Please don't leave...'

Don't worry.

I'm not going anywhere.

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        "It's too late to turn back now," the extra head whispered.

        "But I d-don't want to," the Mangle rasped. "I-I don't w-a-ant to..."

        "You promised," it crooned. "You promised, and the Captain demands results. Do not let the others down."

        "I'm s-so afraid-d..."

        "Don't be... We are always with you..."

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        Today is wrong, Michael thought. So very, very wrong.

        Like Scott had said last night, all the animatronics had done today was stare at people. Like they were planning something.

        As if there was a big joke running rampant in the Pizzeria, and only they knew the punchline.

        They went about their respected jobs well enough. Toy Freddy read to the children, Toy Bonnie and Toy Chica entertaining them with tales about fairies and overcooked pizza. The Puppet was handing out her prizes almost in glee. For once, the older animatronics were actually behaving themselves in the back- even worse-for-wear Bonnie and the always stubborn Foxy were sitting patiently today as Michael made his repairs.

        His last day...

        It was the day where Scott had agreed to let Michael walk out this week. He was going to move on to a different location, hearing rumors of some of the old springlock suits that needed to be checked up on for multiple reasons. And since today of all days, everyone seemed to be behaving themselves...

        Well, that was almost suspicious.

        "Michael.... Mike. Michael Afton..." The mechanic turned around so fast he nearly hit his head, but it was only Scott, snapping his fingers next to Michael's ears.

        "Yes?" His friend almost looked hesitant, sad. It was understandable. With his sister and both parents gone, Mike was technically the only person that Scott could consider family.

        "Your shift is almost over. I just wanted to let you know."

        His last day. Michael stood up, the two of them walking out of Parts and Services.

        "Thank you, my friend."

        "Hey... If you ever need anything- anything... Well. You know how to call me up." Scott held out his hand, but instead of shaking it, Michael pulled him into a brief hug, releasing him just as quickly.

        "I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Send my farewell to Jeremy for me?"

        "You didn't tell him last night?"

        Michael chuckled. "Friends don't say goodbye," he reminded softly.

        They were passing Pirate's Cove now, and the second warning slowly spread into Michael's thoughts.

        "Scott?"

        "Yeah?" Michael's tone was uncharastically light, barely with a single hint of anything. But this definitely meant that something was up- Michael never spoke in such a way.

        "Where is the Mangle?"

        Both slowly stopped in their tracks, and looked at each other. Kids were laughing around them, parents chasing after them or banging their heads against the walls in frustration. A normal day, usually... But where were the toddler's shrieks? The scraping of metal on metal coming from the Cove? Scott and Michael cautiously, ever-so-cautiously, looked heavenward-

        Long, fingerpainted claws, digging into the ceiling. Artificial and makeshift animatronic parts haphazardly attached every which way. And the most frightening of all was the grin curled across the Mangle's lips...

        Is this where I die? ... Again?

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But we refused...

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        There was a horrible ringing in Michael's ears for a moment as he tried to convince himself that he wasn't dead. His shoulder hurt a ton, and a few moments prior something had barreled into him and momentum had forced him to the ground.

        A very wet splattering sound and anguished yelps reached him, kids screaming all around. A weak hand had been placed protectively on Michael's chest, shaking...

        In some twisted form of deja vu, Jeremy Fitzgerald fell against him, the Mangle's jaws clenched in a grip around his head like a malicious kiss of death.