A Guard's life

False expectations

A/N:
I'm sorry for this chapter, there's going to be some bad times here. On the bright side, the next chapter will be out next week as compensation :3

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Twelve o'clock.
Noon. Thankfully.
Agitated Mike kept checking the clock on the wall.
It was too quiet for this time of the day.
He was alone, except of the golden children, but even they kept quiet and simply whispered with each other, sometimes walking out and explored the building.
There was a lot new to see, after all they were on an upper floor of a prestige hospital.
One past twelve.
It was worrying how restless he felt.
How painful the silence was for his ears.
He didn't even LIKED having people around, he fucking HATED it, but knowing that Freddy's doors had already opened for customers gave him chills.
If his appointment was postponed by... five more minutes, he would just leave and get back to work.
Mike rubbed his temples.
This was getting freaky.
Steps came closer, the door was opened and a friendly smile stood there.
"Doctor Deern is now ready to see you."
"Would have been fucking surprised if it was someone else who suddenly wanted to see me."
But since it didn't matter anyway, as well as Mike wanting to get it over with, he stood up and entered the warmly colored room, filled with the usual couches and images of colorful dots.
Dr. Deern was sitting on one side, making some last notes, before putting the small book away and smiling friendly at him. Courteous he stood up and shook his hand.
"Mike! It's been a while."
"Hey Doctor Deern. Can't say I missed you."
Slightly chuckling the old man shook his head. "Can't say I expected anything else. Sit down, tell me what and how you're doing at the moment."
"Well..." Shortly Mike glanced at the children how had begun making fun of the portraits. "... I now work with kids."
"What? Please don't take it wrong, but I am surprised..."
"Yeah, at first I actually wanted to take the nightshift, but... uh... I kinda got promoted... I work at my local Freddy's now."
"Freddy's?!" Mike frowned, but Deern had already noticed his confusion. "Oh, that is... fitting. For many reasons, mainly because a good friend of mine, the one encouraging me to take your case had worked there as well. He passed away years ago, so you wouldn't have met him, sadly."
"I would say that I'm sorry for your loss, but I don't really care."
"Brutally honest. While we're at brutally... the medicine doesn't causes any trouble, does it? You haven't complained, but last time you didn't as well, despite the various side effects."
"There aren't any." Maybe he blurted it out to quickly, but Deern was giving him an odd look. "I mean, it makes me tired if I take too many at once."
"You take sometimes more than one? I've warned you myself, that is risky and possible unhealthy."
"Haven't taken more than three at once yet, but it didn't do more than making me feel dizzy. I mean, if you don't count that it got rid of the hallucinations, but that's a given."
With a quick use of the pen he carefully wrote that information down and continued, with a keen interest. "What kind of hallucinations do you experience?"
Oh... grey ghosts, murderous machines and a pink person.
"The same as before."
"Are you sure...? Your usage of your pills seem to have gone up. Do you have any kind of different associations? Do they appear more frequent, or do they change forms more often?"
"No. Everything from simple disassociation to full blown people talking to me, but they stay the way they are once they appear. And to the... uh... usage... well, I'm not really good with kids, they stress me out."
A small smile showed on the old man's face. "You've picked up some vocabulary, I see."
"It's your fucking favorite word... "Disassociation". I don't even get what's so important about it. I associate and disassociate whenever I want!"
"That might be the problem, Mike."
"What about that is supposed to be-" Shortly the Guard stopped, as in the background the golden children began to throw around some of the ornaments. Dr. Deern gave him a strange look.
"Are you having trouble...?"
"N-no. Just remembered that... uh... I forgot something at work..."
The psychologist frowned, taken aback by that odd change in his patient's behavior. "To return to the topic of your medicine... we are currently working on a replacement that is easier to afford and produce. I would recommend to reduce your consumption of your current medicine, so possible side effects will be avoided."
"Yeah... no problem, I guess..." Mike still kept focused on the chaos that was going on in the background. There was no way to stop the children without getting forced to stay overnight and being observed.
"If possible I will get into contact with your employer, so we can keep you here for three days, to ensure any side effects will be dealt with immediately."
"God, is that really needed... I fucking hate it here!"
Suzy was carrying a glass ornament and showed her tongue, probably planning on smashing it as soon as it was inconvenient.
The Guard didn't even cared anymore. "Dr. Deern, could I have a glass of water?"
"Of course." As the psychologist stood up and stopped, completely stunned. Everything had changed place. "Uh..."
He blinked a few times, yet ignored it skillfully and left the room. Mike quickly took the opportunity to tell the children off.
"Goddammit, stop fucking around! You'll get me in trouble and then we won't be able to have your shitty party!"
Sally sighed and nodded. "Okay guys, let's check out what the dusty old man hides in his closet!"
They roared and Mike decided it wasn't even worth anything. This was their last day on earth or something, so to hell with the rules and regards for others!
Dr. Deern reentered and looked around, again pausing since everything had stayed in changed places.
His patient watched him with slight compassion, knowing that situation far too well. "Thanks, Deern. Are we finished?"
Surprised he sat down again. "Are you in a rush?"
"Yeah, kinda need the money from my job and hoped I would be able to have at least a few hours of work today."
"In that case, we will do the regular test and if nothing is out of the ordinary, you'll be allowed to leave."
"Sounds good." Sighing Mike checked the clock.
12:35.
If he was lucky it would only take three hours. Plenty of time to sneak in for a private party.
He changed his brain into auto-pilot and allowed the time to wash over him and swallow him whole.
Four hours later he was standing in front of the giant building, not entirely sure what happened, but feeling the empty existential dread he usually did, so it most likely was nothing to worry about.
Tom couldn't keep quiet anymore and began to laugh his shit-eating laughter, but this time the others joined in.
"HAPPIEST DAY! HAPPIEST DAY!"
They danced around Mike and dragged him forward, not able to wait.
Pretending to walk extra slowly, he managed to get them into a state of impatience that their vibration was making them look almost like smudges of golden color on a paper. Smirking about their inability to calm down for just a minute, the human entered the bus.
As to be expected, it was overly full.
At the end of their journey the smile was gone and the bus had blood splattered everywhere. Cleaning his just as bloodied fist he wandered towards the entrance of Freddy's, ensuring that no one saw him, because
A. Explaining the blood would take a lot of time he wasn't ready to spend and
B. He didn't wanted anyone (okay, only PG would do that) coming to look for him if he was away for too long.
Thankfully, Freddy's was busy today, so he could sneak from crowd to crowd. The children were leading him, being on the lookout for the others and giving a thumbs-up when it was safe to go.
Smiling somewhat relieved Mike followed them into the saferoom. Their giggles were loud enough to still be audible through the open door.
Before he could enter though, the puppet was standing in front of him, or at least what remained of its soul and watched him unhappy.
You shouldn't go in there.
"What the fuck?"
Mike... you don't... you don't understand anything. You don't understand them!
"Fuck you, I don't have to listen to more of your bullshit."
Do you remember the special feature of the Toys, Mike? The thing that set them apart from the old models? There is your problem, you think you're hot shit, you're so smart and so observant, just because you had luck with your guesses until now. Well, you aren't as smart as you think. You haven't paid ANY attention, Michael! You don't understand ANYTHING!
"For the last time. My name. Is not. MICHAEL. Fuck off now, before I break you apart."
With glowing eyes, its smile returned, but his tear stains became more intense as well.
Your decision.
"Indeed, well-fucking-observed!"
And with that the spirit vanished, leaving Mike growling that the pretentious piece of shit, who dared to interrupt the happiest day. Fuck him and his ominous bullshit!
Sally peeked outside of the door, getting impatient. "Mike, hurry! Before the soda loses all its bubbles!"
"I'm here, I'm here, no need to rush..." Calmly and extra slow he entered the saferoom, just to forget all his previous intention as he saw it.
The space had completely changed. Only Spring-Bonnie and Spring-Freddy reminded him that there was actually once a backroom here, everything else was... a party room! Decorations on the wall, from pictures, over balloons, until his eyes stayed glued to the flashing, colorful lights which spelled out "Happy Birthday!"
It also felt quite a lot bigger than it usually appeared... a giant table, with an even bigger cake on top of it. Many bottles filled with different sugary liquids that would probably give anyone diabetes, but thankfully they were already dead, so no worries there.
Music played in the background, not the usual cheesy, overly-cheery music of Freddy's that Mike had gotten used to ignore, to preserve his own sanity, but a softer, almost bittersweet melody.
In some sort of hidden awe Mike slowly sat down and looked around, but was pushed off the chair immediately, by the gaggle of laughing children.
They snickered and took turns masking him, rating how good he would be as the animatronic in question. All-time favorite was Toy-Chica.
Mike couldn't concentrate on anything happening, it was as if everything was blurry and far away. Maybe it was. The afterlife was known to keep its distance to the real world after all...
Their words were almost like multiple whispers as they became brighter and brighter over the time at the party.
Slowly a sense of unease crept up in his mind. He sung the songs, he played the games, but he couldn't... focus. Yes, it might was because of the fact that this place didn't exist, but it also could be a fit...
He couldn't take the pills, not on their last party together.
Tom was having a grimace contest with Richard, Gary and Suzy were the critical judges. Sally joined the human's side and asked him if he wanted another slice of cake.
It tasted like sweet dust.
After what felt like an eternity, they took their masks back and wore them with pride, sitting all around the table, staring at Mike.
A hint of reality came back and dumbfounded the guy shook his head. "Would... would you repeat yourself? I kinda space out right now..."
"The suit! Please wear the suit for us, Mike!"
"What the fuck? Why?"
"Because this is our party! And Freddy's parties have entertainers!"
"I don't want to fucking entertain you?"
They snickered among each other, before Richard smugly replied. "Well, too bad, you're doing it right now!"
Tom thankfully didn't laugh, but smiled. "Please Mike! Just wear it, it's our last present after all... you'll get something from us too!"
Sally nodded. "It's a win-win!"
Gary stood aside with Suzy, who was holding his hand. They stayed quiet, but were probably grinning their asses off...
Defeated the Guard sighed and walked over to the horror-suit, ready for at least ten minutes of sweaty, uncomfortable annoyance.
He began with the legs, finally having listened to the tapes and noticed that he was shit out of luck if he nudges the parts the wrong way. No wonder Phone Guy was so shocked after he heard that Mike hadn't listened to the tapes yet, it was quite a miracle that the bolts kept in place.
Lastly he slipped on the head, immediately being irritated with the stale air inside of it.
God in heaven, hopefully they didn't want to dance with him.
Everyone was intensely staring at him, the atmosphere was filled with a prickle of excitement. Obviously they were expecting something, but in his haze he couldn't figure out what...
Sighing he opened his arms for a hug. "Let's celebrate!"
Screeching they all surrounded him and hugged him from all sides, glowing brightly in the golden shine of life.
"Thank you, Mike." Tom let go of him first, too shy, too knowing how obnoxious he had been in the past to stick around any further. "We will see each other again... and then we will make some thunder!"
His light became blinding and he was gone. The mask fell onto the ground.
"Good job, Mike!" Richard snickered as he stepped back. "When we meet again, I'm gonna hand you a guitar and then we'll see who sounds like a dying cat!"
His light became blinding and he was gone. The mask fell onto the ground.
"I loved it with you, Mike! You might be pretty stupid, but at least you're not a creep!" Chica winked at him, as she got some space between them again. "But... I kinda would have liked to see your reaction to the PRON. Maybe when we meet again~"
Her light became blinding and she was gone. The mask fell onto the ground.
"Mike..." Gary made a step back and fiddled with his hands. "Mike, we- I don't know how to say it, but you really shouldn't-"
Suzy hissed. "Hurry up Gary, don't be such a cry baby!"
The boy winced. "I'm... sorry Mike. I wish I could have done more for you. Thank you for everything."
His light became blinding and he was gone. The mask fell onto the ground.
Now Suzy jumped back, excited as never before. "MIKE! I'll be honest, when you first destroyed my broken body, I was angry. I really wanted you dead, more than anything else. I thought you were a violent asshole, a monster like many here! I hoped you would go to hell."
"Well...?"
"Yeah, yeah, don't spoil it! I was wrong, I'm sorry... You're a good guy. Even if you're shit at carving figures!"
"IT WAS THE FIRST TIME I EVER DONE IT, GIVE ME A BREAK!"
Laughing brightly Suzy shook her head. "Your temper is shit too!"
"Your fucking temper is shit, you were the one cunt who annoyed me the most!"
"You were the asshole who never wanted to apologize!"
Mike couldn't helped but smirk a little. "Lucky you that you don't have to see me ever again."
The girl took off her mask, her face surprisingly sad. Suddenly she hugged him once more tightly. "I don't want to leave you... You're my friend now!"
"Suzy... for fuck's sake, don't make it more complicated than it needs to be. You can't stick around, doesn't that hurt you?"
"Yes... I won't stay, don't worry about me." She snuggled into the soft fur of the suit. A moment passed before she made a jump back, her whole face glowing in pride. "That's why I'll take you with me to heaven!"
Out of her hand fell six bolts and some other mechanical scraps.
Reality crashed back.
There was no music.
There was no light.
There was no cake.
Just him and a spirit in a filthy backroom with a handful of vital parts of a deadly suit on the ground.
Mike had listened to the tapes.
Blankly he stared down at the nuts and bolts.
"Don't be scared Mike! Heaven will be wonderful! And... if you don't go to heaven, Fredbear will give you life again, so you can help more children like me!"
Slow breathing, don't nudge anything anymore. The suit hadn't snapped just yet, maybe if he-
"Ahh... why does Fredbear take so long?! Go! Crush him! Let him come along!" Suzy growled, annoyed. "Whatever, I'll just take a few more..."
Violently the door swung open.
It was the Orange Guy.
Out of breath and terrified, he stared at the ghost, who's grin became almost animal.
Once more Mike couldn't help but wonder if Orange had seen them all the time or if just now something had changed.
"Y-you! What are you doing?!" Old Sport was faking some sort of authoritarian tone. "Mike? What is going on? Why is a ghost child in this room? Shouldn't you keep your ghosts at home?"
"Well, actually... since when can you see them? I had them around for the last months."
Suzy snarled. "I let him see me, because he should see what is going to kill him!"
She stepped closer, aggressively showing her teeth. "Kidden strangler! Zombie! Your lack of a soul ensures you a place in the void!"
Old Sport became angry as well. "Shut up! I helped you and your friends out, it wasn't anything personal! And now, what have you done to Mike? Why is he wearing a suit?!"
"We've made him wear it to take him with us!"
"WHAT?!"
"Either he comes with us, or he stays with Fredbear! I only need a few more bolts..."
"DON'T YOU DARE! LEAVE HIM ALONE! DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU'RE DOING!? IF YOU TOUCH MIKE, YOU WON'T LIKE WHAT FOLLOWS! I WON'T LET THIS HAPPEN AGAIN!"
Suzy put her mask back on and continuously stepped closer, her body darken with every moment.
"Ha. Ha. HA!" Smugly she ripped into the suit again, her hands appearing more like claws.
Now even his heartbeat posed a threat. Every beat was nudging his body a little closer to death.
He could feel his body pulsating.
One beat. Ba-dum.
Another one. Ba-dum.
Mike gave his best not to move, not to jerk back and trigger the springlocks. It was hard, since the view was disgusting. Suzy's mask had darkened with the body, becoming fleshy, as if replacing its face.
Oh god, it actually was now the face. Black goo dripped out of the long snout, the thing had become quite a bit bigger... monstrous even.
"Maybe Fredbear doesn't react because of YOU! BUT THAT CAN BE FIXED!"
Still, despite her now actually appearing threatening, Orange Guy suddenly became perfectly calm. Dark smile, lightless eyes.
"Brat."
The monster screeched its horrible, but all too familiar scream and jumped forward, in a second that stretched into an eternity Mike watched in dull terror the corrupted kid attacking the Guard.
Hot and dry, the air almost burned his throat.
Orange Guy's reached for his attacker, suddenly a giant maw ripping open in his throat as he grabbed the creature and began stuffing it inside of him, ignoring the unholy screaming echoing all around him.
"NO!" Mike didn't want to see this, he didn't want this to happen at all, but in this thoughtless gut-reaction he had raised his arm and-
I'm sorry Mike, I can't stop it anymore.
Click, click, click, CRACK.
Countless pieces of metal yanked forward penetrating his skin and flesh, probably his organs as well, but Mike couldn't differentiate since the pain was far too intense to think or concentrate on anything.
His brain was overloaded and filled with white noise, as he tried to open his mouth to do or say something, but nothing came out, except blood out of his throat, bubbling and drenching his collar. Painfully he sucked air through his mouth, feeling how most of it escaped out of the countless holes now decorating his body.
"MIKE!" Old Sport's eyes lit back up as he rushed to his side, panicking. "D-don't move, don't..."
The man couldn't even move if he tried, his muscle cords were severed and he couldn't feel most of his fingers. Probably a good thing, as his body parts he was able to feel were torn apart, string by string flesh and muscle snapped, each and every jolting a crescendo of pain through his overactive nerves.
A few seconds Orange Guy loomed over him with shaking hands. "You... Don't even try to talk, it will come out jumbled anyway. Now, there are metal parts in every of your vital organ. You have about two hours if you're lucky. If you're unlucky it won't stop until tomorrow. It took ten hours for me."
His glow pulsated, changing between painful bright and almost invisible, mirroring in some tears that welled up in his eyes.
"I should have known better than letting you on your own against the kids. I should have known better than expecting the souls to have changed. I'm sorry, Mike. It's my fault."
By all the Guard could tell through his haze of pain, he was serious.
He never had seen him sad. He didn't even thought this orange-skinned abomination could feel those negative emotions.
"But don't worry, at least I'll make it quick. I won't let you become like me. Let me just... let you bleed out. It's peaceful, believe me, I tried it." With that he began ripping out the metal, making the blood pour out in a rapid pace.
Slowly as the heat left his body, he began shivering. Tired he closed his eyes.
Was this how he ended?
In a filthy backspace, because a stupid piece of shit decided to kill him?
A stupid piece of shit that had called him a friend?
A stupid piece of shit that was absorbed by someone else in the most disturbing way possible?
No.
NO.
NO!
This wouldn't be the end.
Old Sport stepped back, frowning. "You're... still breathing! Impressive... you must have a lot of blood in your body... do you want me to... uh... end your suffering...?"
Mike could only stare, since his vocal cords weren't functioning anymore, but even before he could move his head or give any other sign of disagreement, the Orange Guy began to convulse and shake, trying to puke, as dark smoke released out of his mouth.
More and more smoke came out of the choking man, who fell onto his knees trying to get it out, shivering and shaking. It was obvious he couldn't breathe anymore and was terrified, his glow not being more than small, fearful dots.
He reached out for Mike, who didn't knew what he could do or why Orange did it. It came clearer he snatched one of the metal shards.
Now he grinned wide, despite the smoke.
And slit his throat with one solid movement.
Thick, black goo began to escape and almost immediately vaporize as it came in contact with the air.
He collapsed.
Mike couldn't stay awake anymore, even if he began to feel aggressive again.
Why did this stupid kid do this?
Why and HOW did Orange Guy stop her?
Why did this HAPPEN?
Why...?!
He woke up lying on the cold ground of the saferoom, free from the suit. Orange Guy was facing away from him, apparently focused on the Fredbear-suit.
"Would you mind answering me a few questions, Mr. Schmidt?"
Barely understanding what was going on, Mike snarled.
"Did you ever talk to Fredbear? Did he ever answer you?"
"I'm... not talking... to objects..."
"Hm. Understandable. You prefer ghost and illusions after all." Orange Guy turned around, with a black smile on his lips, his eyes filled with dark amusement. "Are you recovering? I would prefer not to explain your... partner... what happened back in this room, seeing as it is highly possible that said partner would place blame on me."
Mike didn't want to talk to him. He didn't want to look at him either.
He stepped closer, yanking his arm painfully up to inspect his scars. "You are remarkable, Mr. Schmidt. I have never encountered this kind of anomaly before and have to admit to be intrigued by your case, as well as impressed by you as a person."
"Fuck off, before I manage to feel my fists again and begin to punch you dead."
"May your manners better with time. It would be devastating if the first creature to achieve immortality would be unsophisticated and only able to communicate in profanities." He once more raised the Fredbear-head and stared into its empty sockets. "Correction: First creature to achieve immortality by accident... Which does not diminish how impressive that feat is."
"Who... who the FUCK are you!?"
"Tsk, Mr. Schmidt... that would ruin the hunt for knowledge."
"Y-you're that pink dude, aren't you?! I... I've seen you! You weren't real!"
Disgusted he shook his head. "Dude... what a despicable term. Please feel free to call me dude, seeing as you will do whatever you want anyway. I recognize discussions I will not win."
Smirking he exited into the light. "Before I forget, I want to express my gratitude for... the energy you so magnanimously provided. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, without your escapade I would have needed far more careful plotting to claim what is mine."
The cynical guy didn't actually wanted to answer that stuck-up piece of cancerous cock. He really felt hate flowing through his mind.
"I'll kill you."
"What an unnecessary aggressive answer. Did I harm you?"
"You're fucking words give me CANCER. I'm so sick of your existence already..."
"Considering my vocabulary as personal offence against you is childish, Mr. Schmidt."
"FUCK OFF I SAID!" Growling he forced his body upwards, his eyes lighting up. "Fuck off as long as you can. Because I'll get you, wherever you go!"
"You are a mystery. Whenever your paths crossed before I was nothing short of courteous and respectful."
"Fuck courtesy! Whatever you are, you're literally possessing my-"
"My...? He is not your friend now, is he? Where would be the loss for you if he disappeared? Remind you, he was not only the one erasing the life of the spirits that accompanied you, but also at fault for a considerable amount of your partner's trauma."
"I... I... FUCKING CUNT! DO I LOOK LIKE I CARE?! I DON'T CARE HOW MUCH OF A PIECE OF SHIT OLD SPORT WAS, AT LEAST HE DIDN'T ANNOY THE FUCK OUT OF ME! I HAVE STANDARDS! Next to the fact that I'm no fucking judge, the fuck do I know how evil someone is! For all I know, and my gut is pretty clear on that, you're most likely even worse!"
"Intuition instead of logic..." He laughed. "Really, the last case where someone intrigued me on this scale was William and that has been twenty years, if you do not count my absence."
"Who the fuck is William?"
"Ah... I am getting emotional... but I cannot help it... ask your friend. He will surely tell you." Grinning he stopped shortly before finally closing the door. "Truth be told... I was always a gambler, even if I pride myself in my ability to weigh risk and reward."
And so Mike was left alone in the darkness, slowly falling back down out of sheer exhaustion. This had been too much.
His arms were scarred, yet he could almost watch them disappear, it was that quick.
What the FUCK was going on?
Did this... happen...?
There was actually a pretty big chance that he had hallucinated in the end, after all, while attending the party, he felt his condition worsening...
Where was Simon?
He told the guy that he wouldn't be here today, because of his appointment, but maybe that had been a mistake.
Now once more having a reason to try, he forced himself up and left the saferoom, desperate to hear his calming voice.
Finally he spotted him talking to Chica.
He practically dragged himself over and as soon as he was close enough, he put his arms around him and stumbled over.
"M-Mike?! What are you doing... h-here... Is that blood?" More than just worried PG hugged him back, his phone head working so quickly that it slowly grew hot. "What happened?"
"I was wrong."
"How? About w-what?"
Mike didn't answer as he already drifted into the sweet world made of dreams. Helpless Phone Guy held him in his arms, unsure what his options were.
It was almost closing time as well... Jeremy had excused himself a little bit earlier, since he took Marion to some weird movie about magical girls or something...
For Foxy's sake!
Sighing he brought him towards the office, seeing as the torn, drenched in blood clothing probably would attract a lot of negative attention that Mike didn't deserve. After letting him carefully down on the chair, he noticed to his terror an uncountable amount of scars on his friend's body. They were thin and probably very old, but he hadn't seen them the last time he had taken care of Mike.
They should talk.
Somewhere safe.
Grinding his dial, PG went towards his orange employee and put a hand on his shoulder. "Employee? You will take the nightshift."
Dave perked up, smiling motivated. "We're getting the nightshift?! Holy fuck! Yes!"
Orange Guy stayed silent and smiled unsettling.
In an impulse of disgust Phone Guy retracted his hand, wiping it on his leg unconsciously, stepping away backwards. "G-good. Don't b-break anything."
"Gotcha chief!" Dave giggled like a little girl on Christmas. "Old Sport! It's gonna be you, me and Alice!"
"And the animatronics."
"And the animatronics, but who cares about them!?"
"Be careful."
Irritated Dave sat back, uncomfortable with his friend's weird tone. "Are you... alright, sportsy?"
"Never felt better."
"Uhm... I'll... check up on Freddy... see you in a minute."
„Do not strain yourself."
"I-I won't!"
On the whole way into the backroom he could feel those dark eyes burning into his back. And for the first time he didn't liked to be looked at by his supposed friend.
Time quickly passed by, as simply Orange Guy's presence made the customers want to leave earlier than usual.
Dave watched Old Sport staring out of the window, while Minireena had apparently preferred now to sit with the Purple Guy. Understandable.
"The animatronic will not move this night. A shame."
"Wha... I mean, how do you know that?"
"I know everything."
This was Henry. The way the Orange Guy turned his head a little towards him, smirking arrogantly, making fun of his situation. "A—ah, you do? What else do you know, huh?"
"I know we will be visited tonight. Prepare a long rope, some lenses or sandpaper, whatever is easier for you to find and please a few needles."
"Y-you know I hate needles!"
Irritated Orange Guy shortly stopped. "Still? Fine. I will take care of the needles. Get three plastic tubes and hurry."
With that the man had already left. Helpless Dave looked at Alice.
"Something is off today..."
She giggled sad.
"Don't let it drag you down, Alice. I'm sure he'll get back on track soon..."
After Dave had brought forth the requested items, Old Sport returned, and with returned it meant a real return! His glowing eyes were weak, but still there and his smile had warmth in it.
"Dave! Dave! Look what I found! The Paper-pals! Phoney had hidden them, but I found them! Let's hide it inside of the cameras, so they can't show anything when used!"
At this moment Purple Guy would have done anything for him. Just as long as he stays. "Sounds about right! I'm sure we don't need this building much longer anyway..."
The sudden outburst on energy in his friend was welcome, but still worrying. He bubbled like a soda. "Hey, Dave, I always wanted to call you Dabe! You know, you're my Dave-Babe and Dabe just sounds funny!" Without a pause he continued with a completely different topic. "Isn't it weird how docile the animatronics are tonight? It's like they think we're busy or something! Hahaha, it's really cool how smart they actually are. But your Funtimes are MUCH smarter! We should really get them out and into the open!"
Silently Dave took his hand, shutting him up for a moment. "What happened today?"
"I-" Glass shattered in the distance and every light went out, including the ones in Old Sport's eyes. "Time for a show."
The darkness was so thick that even Dave couldn't make out anything more than faint movement next to him.
Violent fighting was going on, but after a minute or so, the lights turned back on and a satisfied Orange Guy resting his elbows on a muffled man, who was staring out with panicked eyes. He tried to say something, but couldn't get anything out.
"I truthfully missed this sensation... Let us get started right away. I require sandpaper."
Almost apprehensively he was handed the requested object and humming he began rubbing it on the eyelids of their prisoner, relaxing.
Of course the man began trashing around and tried to scream, making his torturer back off. "You are correct, I almost forgot the best part of these activates... Feel free to be beg or scream, but please keep in mind that you will not leave this establishment alive."
"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP! SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP ME!"
Humming the zombie continued with his actions, blood began dribbling out of one destroyed eye, so he began rubbing on the other, making him scream even harder.
"PLEASE, I HAVE A WIFE AND A CHILD! I WAS JUST SUPPOSED TO F-FIX THE PIPES! I W-WON'T TELL ANYONE!"
"Do you think you are telling me anything new? After all I was the one telling you to come. But nice of you to tell us about your family, it elevates the enjoyment I obtain from this activity. Please, do continue! How old is your child? Will she remember you after you die?"
"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! WHY?"
"To relax. I had quite a challenging last decade and this is perfect. Nothing is able to slow down your heartbeat like rhythmical exercises. If it gives you reason to hope: As soon as all your skin is bleeding, I will have to change tactics, as only lackluster friction will be created."
"YOU'RE SICK! LET ME GO, LET ME GO!"
"I adore the reactions of captured humans. They are so... nonsensical. Now, let me get the needles, so I can- really- get- under- y-your skin-"
Suddenly Old Sport stopped moving and looked up to Dave, panicked. "W-what's happening?"
But before Dave could give any kind of answer the man slit himself a wound on his wrist and continued as if nothing happened. He picked out a few needles, testing their sharpness shortly, before he carefully inserted them into the neck. "The tubes."
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? W-WHAT IS YOUR PLAN?!"
In a sudden outburst he forced his victims mouth open and spiked his tongue with as much needles as possible, before punching his jaw upwards, connecting the needles, tongue and oral cavities.
"Tubes."
"Old Sport..."
"Bring. Me. The. TUBES."
Quickly Dave clenched his fists and decided.
"Give me a sec." Praying that he wouldn't see through his intention, he slipped one hand into his pocket, carrying the required tubes in the other. "Here you go, let's see your masterplan!"
As soon as the unstable Guard accepted the item and began setting up, Dave gripped his knife tightly and pretended to tumble forward, sliding the knife right into the chest of their victim and immediately taking it back out to ensure a quick death.
"What... Dave- No, we will skip the useless pretending. William... EXPLAIN THIS."
"William?"
"It IS your real name after all. Clutching onto a false identity for no reason at all is childish. You cannot deny who you have been, except if you deny who you are, which would be harmful... would it not? There is no possible reasoning to utilize a false name while you are with me, is there?"
"It... it was an accident! I fell and panicked and took the knife back before thinking..."
"You clumsy insult to human ability... give me your knife."
"I don't want to!"
"William. Please. You will get it back."
Unhappy he handed his Christmas gift over and watched him beginning to skin the corpse, before simply bashing it inside of its head, again and again.
Until his hand simply stopped in the middle of the movement.
A while nothing happened, but then he smiled a black smile and gave it back. "Thank you. My mood has improved."
"Glad to hear that, Sportsy!"
"William... will you grow up one day?"
"Will you tell me what the fuck is going on? Why are you acting like..."
Orange Guy didn't react verbally and only smirked, tilting his head curiously.
"Like..." Dave really didn't want to say it.
He honestly just wanted to forget about Henry at this point.
"Argh, let's just move on. We have to bring the corpse to the kitchen and clean the floor..."
"Y-yeah... of course..." Old Sport had snapped out of whatever it was and was staring at his bloodied fingers for a while. Out of the blue he began talking again, his voice shaking. "... You know... I like the name Dave..."
Carefully Purple Guy wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "So do I."

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A/N:
This surely kicked up a notch, eh? Well, the end isn't even close, so at least don't worry about that x3 You'll have some more months of this fanfic (I guess. Now if that is good or bad is probably your decision ^^").
As always, tell me what you thought! *D* Whenever I need motivation to write I read your comments and feel instantly ready to continue!