Five Nights At Freddy's

Chapter Twenty One: The Confession

  The puppet clutched Mike tightly as he returned to his swivel seat and clicked through the cameras, watching Violet's descent into shadow.  The animatronics were still.  Mike couldn't help but feel like they were waiting for something.  For what?  He didn't know.  The feeling kept his attention on Violet, however, while the puppet continued to try to pick up the pen with little success.  It would be able to balance it on the paper, leaving a small skid mark of ink, before gravity won and pulled the instrument back down with a thunk.  Each time, the puppet would lower its hand slowly as though deflating, rest against Mike's chest, and attempt again a few seconds later. 

  Violet arrived at Iris's office a few minutes later, sweeping her flashlight around the walls lined with yellow paint and newspaper clippings.  She felt the walls for indentations or secret handles, moved boxes from their dusty homes on the floor, and peeled posters from the wall.  When she had finished, she opened the door and re-entered the dining room.  She looked up at the camera dismally and shook her head. 
  Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! The puppet with its pen replied.  Mike sighed, lifting the walkie talkie. 
  "I guess you could try the kitchen?"
  "The camera in there is busted," Violet warned, "you won't be able to keep an eye on me."
  "True, don't go there yet," Mike agreed hurriedly. 
  Thunk!  Thunk!  Thunk!  Went the pen on the paper as the puppet tried scribbling again and again. 
  "Is there anywhere else you can think of that would be... I dunno... likely?"
  "In this building?" Violet asked, blowing a raspberry, "I guess the supply closet could have something. That is where Thomas..." she grimaced. The puppet began pulling on Mike's sleeve.
  "Not right now," he whispered gently, lifting his walkie talkie again. "Are you okay? Do you need me to-?"
  "No," Violet assured, "I've got this. I promise." She crossed the dining room quickly, keeping a fair distance between her and the stage. The animatronics didn't stir. When she entered the hall, Mike felt a cold chill wash over him as the puppet fiddled with the pen.
  Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! It went, the ink splattering the lined paper in childish scribbles. Mike paid no attention, watching Violet like a hawk as she scoured the hall, her flashlight illuminating spots along the walls. The camera blacked out momentarily in a soft sort of flash that left Mike wondering if it had actually happened or if he'd just blinked without realizing. He lifted the walkie talkie.
  "All good Vi? I thought I saw something."
  "Nothing yet," she informed, "are the animatronics still in their spots?" Mike switched the camera, confirming that Foxy was still in Pirate's Cove. He stood with his head out between the curtains, his hook latched onto the sign reading out of order as though pointing to it. Mike cocked his head, squinting at it. Carved into the sign were the words: it's me. Mike swallowed, switching the camera to the three animatronics on stage. They stared at the camera, their eyes illuminated by the red neon sign above them, flickering unevenly. Mike zoomed out the camera, seeing that the "T" and "I" in "TIME" as well as the "TO PARTY" had gone out, leaving the haunting words "IT'S ME" flashing above the animatronics. "Mike?" Violet repeated over the walkie talkie. "Is everything okay?"
  "They're all still," he choked, "but I think they're trying to communicate... or something."
  "What are they saying?" Violet asked, reaching the supply closet.
  Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Went the pen.
  "It's me?" Mike asked, "they just keep writing the words 'it's me' over and over again."
  "It's me?" Violet repeated as she entered the supply closet. Mike watched her enter from the supply closet feed. "Who is?"
  "I don't know, that's just what they keep saying," Mike insisted. The puppet pulled on his sleeve again. He looked down at its white face. "What is it buddy?" The puppet gestured to the notebook where the it had been scribbling. In childish chicken scratch, the name Thomas Glenn shown from the paper.

  A blood curdling scream filled the pizzeria as the cameras went dark. Mike felt his skin go white as he lifted his eyes to the monitor, the screens were full of static and the audio had gone completely dead. He smacked the monitor a few times.
  "Violet!" He cried, "answer me!" The static cleared, revealing the empty supply closet. "No," Mike muttered, flipping through the feed, "no, no, no..." then, he froze. In the hall, walking slowly away from the camera was a hulking, rabbit-like animatronic. Holes from years of wear and decay showed bits of wires and metal poking out from its insides. It turned its head slowly, revealing a decaying mouth of thick, yellow teeth and two bulbous yellow eyes. In its arms laid Violet, unconscious and pale. Mike's breath caught in his throat as the animatronic turned back around and stalked off. Mike stood, the puppet clinging around his shoulders as he opened the door to reveal the hall. In the distance, he could hear the heavy footsteps of the new enemy. He began hurrying, passing the entrance to the dining room where the animatronics turned to watch him but did not stir or interfere. When he'd reached the end of the hall, the rabbit and Violet were gone, all that remained was Violet's flashlight and walkie talkie. Mike cursed under his breath, adjusting his grip on the puppet as he looked around furiously, feeling the walls for some secret door or entrance. The puppet lifted its head and looked around as though trying to help. "See anything?" Mike asked. The puppet didn't reply, but continued looking around with as much interpreted enthusiasm as it could muster.