Sander sides FNAF AU

Infestation Of Despair

Once he punched the code in again, the wall silently glided, isolating its passageway from the rest of the world.

     He kept an eye out for the cryptid on the way back to his office. With any luck, he'd catch a glimpse on the cameras, track him down...but that didn't seem like an effective way to find and lure the kid closer to his suit.

     Thomas peered over his shoulder.

     Nothing. He could've sworn a black spot was on the wall.

     How come Patton didn't trust him anymore? Why now? What did he do wrong? Was it because of—

"Working overtime?"

     He swiveled to the voice. A woman with the pizzeria's uniform observed him from the kitchen's open doorway. The hell was she doing at 5 am?

"What...why're you here?"

     The latter stared at him. "I work here." She gestured to her name tag, illustrating how obvious the answer should've been.

     His ears flushed warm from embarrassment. Okay, so there's a new guard. Not great. Who allowed this?!

     Thomas walked past her, strolling into the sunrise touched dinning room, then caught sight of the wall clock by the ordering line.

6:11 am

     And stopped dead in his tracks.

"I thought we'd have robots today." The coworker came up to his side, visibly bothered by their absence. "They didn't all get locked up, right?"

     Oh no.

     A rigorous pulse drummed from within. Quick. Quickening.

"Uhhhh...."

"Sir—"

     He sprinted off.

     At the hallway's turn, he failed to slam on the breaks.

     Someone's forehead thwacked against his chin. A blur shot to the ground, and his feet hobbled sideways to avoid trampling on the smaller body. Books and papers nosedived.

"Ow—oh my god!"

Instant regret. This was exactly why day guards didn't allow kids to run wild indoors.

     He offered a hand to the victim. "I'm so sorry, are you ok?"

"Ya...knocked the fuckin' breath outta me." The high school boy winced as he got up by himself. "But 'sides that, I'm fine."

     Thomas glanced franticly at the mess he created, then to the end of the corridor. He began to shuffle papers haphazardly together, trying to quicken the cleaning process.

"Dude, you're—" His coworker waved for him to leave. "I got this."

"Again, sorry!"

     The guard hustled at a slower pace.

     He made it halfway down the basement stairs, lungs winded from another sudden stop. Four smiling faces turned in his direction, indifferent or confused about his unexpected return.