Sander sides FNAF AU

Ambivalence

Just a quick reminder (or clarification in case you missed it): Thomas' previous manager was named Dexter Oram.

Fun fact, the surname Oram comes from from Old Danish and means 'serpent'.

That's all. Carry on.

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7:09 am (Day 5)

    
   "Don't go close it. Don't bother talking to it, understand?"

     Words spoken a mere 30 seconds ago no longer had the same urgent demand for obedience. Not when the messenger was out of sight.

     Elizabeth stepped away from the forbidden basement door. On the other side of grey wood, a set of stairs lead to an off limit room below the house, where someone usually worked on and built inventions.

Her movable arm curled around the squishy figure of a plush rabbit, securing it close to her heart. Tiny, bare feet made almost no sound as she walked backwards.

The coast was clear.

Flutters of excitement cocooned her stomach as she left behind chilly tiles of the kitchen floor, and stepped onto luxurious, fluffy carpet. Right there, in front of leather sofas, an adorned box tall enough to reach her shoulders shone in all its glory. Lavender and azure paint made to look like wrapping paper flashed like a gem against sand.

One baby step towards it. She cast her gaze back to the kitchen.

"Listen, they weren't built with the most reliable technology. Malfunctions occur. For your own safety, don't go near them."

"But Daddy, other kids play with them."

"And those children are vulnerable. I don't want you getting hurt."

     Another step, bigger this time.

She held her beloved toy closer, peering in awe at the music box. The creature inside was a peaceful being, she was sure of it! Although, peaceful didn't apply to everyone. One animatronic didn't hesitate to show how monstrous it could be.

     Nightmarish remembrances of yesterday's incident barged into her mind.

Elizabeth gulped.

"Hey, hey....shhh. I'm right here."

"I'm...sorry." Awareness of a rigid arm strapped tight in a cast added fuel to burning guilt. "I...I—"

A gentle, warm embrace pulled the young girl to her father's chest. She wrapped her uninjured arm across his frame, desperately fighting off a lump in her throat, and battled stinging tears with closed eyes.

"Shh, don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault. Nothing was."

"But I—"

"Oh sweetie, I'm not mad at you." A hand stroked the back of her head, moving up and down in a soothing pattern. "You're alive, you're ok, and that's all what matters."

      She hugged BonBon tighter, and vigorously shook the memory away. No matter what anyone said, it was still her fault. All she wanted was a pleasant conversation, not a trip to the hospital. Now, the cause for talking to the animatronic ahead of her was different. Essential.

The box stood a bit away, enough of a distance to cross in a long jump if she tried. She dared to stay put. All radiant hope of finding kindness inside the marionette's box swirled into her voice.