A Vengeful Fox (A Five Nights at Freddy's 2 Fanfiction)

Chapter 7: Rebel!

Steve kicked the Freddy Fazbear head across the floor, out of the way. He flashed Old Freddy the thumbs up, receiving a nod in return. Bonnie plugged the iPad into one of his exposed wires and linked himself into the camera mainframe. Now Steve could see everything.

“All we’ve got to do is hold out here until six am. Got it?” Freddy, Foxy and Chica nodded. “Chica, you guard the left vent. Freddy, you take the right. Me and Foxy will take the hallway, and I’ll update you on their position from time to time. All right?” More nods. “Good. Let’s do this!” It was quiet for the first half an hour. The new animatronics must have figured out what they were planning, because they had held a meeting. As a precaution, they had hacked the cameras and removed the audio, so Steve had no idea what had been said. He dutifully relayed this to his animatronic allies. There were a few half-hearted attempts to get into the office, but no full-on battle. The animatronics were testing them. Then, at 5:30 am, the assault happened. The Mangle leapt out of the hallway onto Foxy, attempting to tear her apart. New and Old Freddy engaged in a hand-to-hand combat session, leaving Old Chica to defend herself against her 2.0 version. New Bonnie entered the room through the unguarded vent, making a beeline for Steve. Steve whacked the animatronic across the face with the always-present desk fan, managing to break off the casing. The cord was still in the wall, meaning the fan still had power in it (Old Freddy had managed to get some of the power back online). Steve smirked and clicked the small switch set into the base of the fan. He thrust the spinning blades into Bonnie’s face. The flimsy metal managed to scratch his plastic paintjob, but snapped and broke before any real damage could be done. Steve stared blankly at the mangled piece of metal before unceremoniously dropping it and running to the other side of the room. Foxy slammed the Mangle into the wall, shattering her fragile not-very-well-put-together frame.

“That’s what you get for letting a bunch of five-year-olds build you,” Foxy spat, before sprinting to Steve’s rescue. Freddy decked his 2.0 version in the face, knocking off the signature small, black hat. Chica skipped around in circles around her newer self, landing a few blows before her fist knocked open a small panel, allowing her to yank out the hard drive and press the Factory Reset button. Chica 2.0 went limp, the light gone from her eyes. Steve grabbed Foxy’s hand and ran out the door with her. Old Freddy and Chica followed, unsure of what was happening. The new animatronics growled and chased after them.

“What are you doing?” Freddy demanded, angry that the human was trying to ditch them.

“Leading them into a trap...” Steve replied cryptically. They rounded another corner and... The front door swung open, allowing the manager to step inside.

“What in god’s name...?” The manager exclaimed, dropping the papers he was holding. He quickly pulled a device out of his pocket. When he pressed a button on it, the new animatronics fell to the ground. The manager had a kill switch. He then turned to Steve. “What the hell happened here?” So Steve told him. Everything. From the discovery they made with Golden Freddy, to the animatronics’ ‘game’, then right to the battle that had just occurred. The Old Animatronics had left awkwardly, wondering what fate awaited them. Finally, Steve finished and the manager nodded thoughtfully. “Then I’ll have to wipe their hard drives... as for these lot...” he sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to completely dismantle them and scrap ‘em.”

 “You can’t!” Steve protested.

“Yes I can. They are my property, and I will do what I want with them.” Steve had a sudden idea.

“What if they were my property?” he asked. The manager raised an eyebrow. “What if I bought them off you?”

“Keep quiet about this whole encounter, and I’ll let you have them for three hundred. As is. And for your help and what you’ve been through, I’ll even throw in a few spare parts.”

“Three hundred for the lot?” Steve asked, fishing the money out of his pocket.

“Each,” the manager corrected. Steve’s jaw dropped. He only had three hundred.

“Can... can I have a moment? To choose?” The manager nodded, letting Steve walk into the room which held the animatronics in question. “I’m sorry,” he apologised. “I only have enough money for one of you.” He looked over to Foxy guiltily; he knew who he was going to pick, he had just used that as a prefix to get in here with them. He was still holding the cash dumbly.

“The souvenirs...” Chica mumbled, slowly turning to look at Freddy. Freddy reached down the neck of his suit and what he pulled out almost made Steve choke. Freddy held out a wad of cash to him.

“I collected them... as souvenirs from the people we killed,” Freddy sounded more than a little ashamed. Steve gently took the pile of paper and counted it. Eight hundred dollars.

“Yes!” he cried. He ran out with all the animatronics following. He stuck the money in the manager’s face. “There! That should be enough!” The manager narrowed his eyes at him, counting up the money.

“Where did you get this all of a sudden?”

“Oh, I just remembered about the money I inherited from my grandma the other day,” Steve lied, faking the appropriate emotions to further sell it. The manager was apparently satisfied, but then stopped short.

“You’re thirty dollars short,” he informed Steve.

“Oh no I’m not. It’s night five, end of week. Now’s when I get my hundred dollars. So actually, I’ve given you seventy dollars too much.” Steve held out his hand. The manager grumbled and handed over the change.

“Enjoy,” he sighed, motioning for Steve to leave before he changed his mind.

Steve set the cardboard box down with a clink. It contained the spare parts he had been promised. Freddy, Bonnie and Chica all crammed into the backseat of his car, while Foxy got in the passenger side. Steve got in and started the engine.

“So, uh. I live in an apartment, so it may be a bit cramped...” Steve told them.

“It’s more than I deserve after the things I’ve done,” Freddy reflected solemnly. “All those people... I just felt so much hate. I guess that’s what the children felt when they died, right?” Freddy sighed. “And Zack... The latest one... I’m sorry Foxy, I know you liked him.” Foxy shrugged.

“It’s in the past now,” she dismissed him, though her body language said otherwise. In the news, Zack, the mechanic... no fingerprints.

“Animatronics don’t leave fingerprints,” Steve mumbled to himself. These animatronics were terrible, they were murderers. Yet, Steve felt like they were the best friends he would ever have.