Five Nights at Freddy's: The Missing Pieces

Chapter One - School Project

   Charlie woke up to the sound of her father, Henry, making too much noise
   No; he was making breakfast. The smell suddenly nudged its way into her head, and she noticed the time. Oh shit, was it really nine already? Charlie only had about twenty minutes left of the lecture. How many notes had she missed? Could this be the difference between failing and passing? Before she could answer any of the questions lingering in her head, she was already throwing on her red chucks. Fortunately for her, she didn't bother to dress down into pajamas the night before. She would've found it kind of gross, if she weren't already late for class.
   Charlie bolted down the stairs and someone familiar called her name just as she was about to open the door. Her name clung to the air like smoke, and she turned around, knowing there was no way to ignore it. Behind her stood a tall, grinning man; his skin seemed clammy and there were long black hairs sticking to his forehead.
"Yes, William?" Charlie said in a mockingly respectful tone.
"Breakfast is ready," William Afton responded.
"Oh, really?"
"Uh-huh,"
"Well that's odd... gotta go, bye!"
   William quickly raised his hand in the air as Charlie poked her head outside the house, "Now just wait a minute! Your father and I made breakfast for you."
"We slaved over a hot stove at the crack of dawn for you, my dear beloved daughter!" Henry added, playing along as he set the table with plates. The "hot stove" part explained why William was so awkwardly greasy in the facial region.
   Charlie sighed, knowing there was no way out of breakfast. The look on her dad's tired face was sincere, even if his tone was playful. She set her bag down by the door and strutted almost impatiently to the table. Just as she pulled a chair out, Henry said,
"There is something we need to tell you. Now, this doesn't change how we feel about you, or how we both love you very much." William nodded in agreement and opened his mouth to speak as well:
"No matter what, we will always put you, your brother, and my children
before ourselves."
"But, just so you know, we are asking you first out of convenience, so don't get cocky."
"So..." William began. He nudged Henry lightly and her fathers gaze deepened.
"We want your permission to get married, Charlotte." Henry finally said. Charlie looked at the two, who now seemed to be holding hands underneath the table like two giddy teenagers.
"Well, I mean..." She started, "Of course, yeah."

not like it mattered

William put his hand across the table and touched Charlie's, and Henry awkwardly did the same. Charlie looked at the two with wild eyes. Quickly, she shook her head and made a stuttering noise with her mouth.
"Was that weird?" William said
"Yeah, a little" Charlie responded, placing her hand on her fork.
"Let's eat,"

   "Sorry I'm late, my—dad? Dad...s? I dunno— were holding me up," Charlie said to Arty, who had been assigned as her partner for today's project. He looked up from his sketches with a skeptical face.
"Dads? Like, plural?" Arty added
"Yuh-huh," she responded half-mindedly as she dug through her backpack for her supplies.
"I already drew up a design. Sorry, it doesn't have any weird faces or anything on it," he slid the graph paper over to Charlie who pulled out a pencil and more paper to brainstorm on, as well as a ruler and a plastic bottle of water. She rolled her eyes at his remark and looked at his design. It was rather simple; a sensory device that can repeat aloud the color it sees. Charlie looked at it for a moment. She grabbed her spiral notebook and flipped through taken notes, landing on a specific page, and scribbling down ideas and rough designs on scrap pieces of paper. Arty thought it was strange; the way Charlie could see any project, idea or prompt and know exactly what to do with it. It took him almost the entire given time in class to even imagine what to do with the prompt, but Charlie knew almost instantly how to make it better.
Arty grabbed the stack of scrap papers, which were littered with notes and drawings. Notes like "What if it were wearable?","Child-proof ones", and "pocket-sized" were scribbled into every margin. Arty scanned each paper quickly and handed them back, to which she began on a bigger, more detailed design; all without saying a word.

Arty took a few quick strides to catch up with Charlie, who'd asked him to come and study with Jessica and her. They both had made a significant dent in the project.
"So what's the plan again?" he asked, nearly tripping over himself in the process.
"Well first, you're gonna tie your shoelaces. Second, I need your help on the notes I missed today. After that, I'll already be busy with something."
"Something, huh? Sounds important."
"Oh, it is. Besides, today has been obnoxious enough with you around." Charlie teased and elbowed Arty, who nearly seemed to actually be hurt by it.
   The walk didn't take too long, only about five minutes or so, before they arrived at Jessica and Charlie's shared dorm room.
"Well. See ya," she said, walking into her living space.
"Wait! Shouldn't we work on-"
Arty had a cheap, fake-wooden door slammed in his face more often than one would think. Now was one of those times. Charlie walked around the dorm, which was no bigger than a hotel room. Jessica's keys were gone, which she took as a sign she'd left for work.
Jessica's room was always the tidier one, and had a neat, blue, little cork board for pinning important dates and events. Next to it were pretty framed pictures of her and her friends. One in particular was of her, John, Charlie, and Michael when they went skiing a few months ago.
Michael was a mixed bag. He's always had a knack for drawing and had picked up some AI coding skills from his dad, William. Charlie looked at the picture of the four of them skiing and felt a solemn oddness.

he's not supposed to be here

Charlie shook her head, letting her hair fall from behind her ear. She had become restless at this point. Her world was full of lies, forgetfulness, and deceit. This isn't right.

This isn't what was supposed to happen.

She walked out the door after setting her backpack down and grabbing her car keys. She drove for a long time.
There it was.
It was an abandoned one-story warehouse. She impatiently thrusted a key into an outdoor lock, which glimmered brightly compared to the rusty, peeling metal of the old building. As the lock came undone, she opened the 10-foot tall doors and closed them behind her.
Standing in front of her, like a tall shiny offering to some sort of deity, was a robotic girl in a red dress and orange pigtails.

this is right. this is what was meant to happen.