FNAF Oneshots

Phone Guy's Demise [OLD]

Scott always thought that he was going to die a peaceful death. Like, in his sleep or maybe dying from old age. He never would have thought it would have ended like this.

It was two in the morning when Scott realised that he was using too much power-- but it was too late. He couldn't do anything about it because it was already at fifteen percent. He dropped the tablet in shock. Oh no. nononononononononono-- Please no! Tears started to gather in his eyes as he slowly reached for the tablet and gently picked it up. It read thirteen percent. He started to shake and cry more profusely. Dear stars no. This can't be true, he-- he didn't want to die. He wanted to leave this hell hole but he couldn't because he was like a sitting duck. He was trapped by two doors that all of the animatronics at this hell hole could team up and kill him. His voice got caught in his throat as he tried to speak to calm himself down from his impending doom, "...P-please," He begged out to whoever would listen-- to whatever kind entity would listen to him-- but to no avail. The percentage kept on ticking down to eleven percent.

Scott threw everything off of his desk in a fit of rage and fear, his veins getting filled with fear by the second (it felt like cold ice slowly climbing up him). Then he grabbed fistfuls of hair and screamed at the top of his lungs, his eyes clamping shut so that he wouldn't have to look at that blasted percentage. Scott was angry and frustrated. He was still young-- he was only twenty-one-- and he had a girlfriend back home. He didn't want to die, not now. Stars, not now. He was planning on asking her to marry him by taking her to Hawaii. That's why he took this damn job! It was so he could get money to finally propose to her after being with her for a solid five years. Scott stopped screaming and almost choked at seeing the percentage. Nine percent.

A strong feeling of loneliness squeezed his soul. Scott was going to die. Alone. In a kids pizza restaurant. His head was going to be shoved in a animatronic head and stuffed into a stupid suit. Scott wanted-- no. He needed any sort of human contact. At the thought of talking to someone, Scott's foot collided with something that he threw on the floor. The phone. Wasting no time, he scooped it up and sat it on the desk along with the tablet. "Hello, Hello?" Scott blurted into the phone's recorder while holding down a button. After a split second, a red button went off and he immediately took off his finger. "Hey! Hey, wow, day 4. I knew you could do it." As an animatronic started to bang on the door louder, Scott grabbed the recorder, his heart beating faster than it ever would have before and he quickly dried the tears that fell off of his face, "Uh, hey, listen," He looked back on his tablet for a split second to see how much power he had left-- how much time he had left, "I may not be around to send you a message tomorrow." The animatronic outside the door started to bang louder, cutting off Scott.

Scott took a deep breath and continued to speak, his hands shaking like a mad man, "It's-It's been a... bad night here for me. Um, I-I'm kinda glad that I recorded my messages for you," his voice died a little before he forcefully coughed and continued speaking through his little mistake, "uh, when I did." Scott realized that the people who would listen to his tapes for the night shift would be the last person to hear him before he-- Scott shook his head. No. Not now, he can't freak out. He needs to keep a solid head so he won't make any brash decisions.

Scott quickly glanced down at his power and saw that it's now down to five percent and he's nowhere near six o'clock. "Uh, hey, do me a favor." The animatronic started to try to scratch their way in like a wild animal, "Maybe sometime, uh, you could check inside those suits in the back room?" He flinched when he heard metal on metal outside his door, "I'm going to try to hold out until someone checks. Maybe it won't be so bad." As Scott quickly glanced back down to the power to see that it was at two percent, yellow feathers popped up by the tiny office window. It's hollow, mechanical eyes bore into Scott's for a split second before it started to bang it's hands against the window. The animatronic was Chica.

"Uh, I-I-I-I always wondered what was in all those empty heads back there. You know--" The power suddenly turned off and Scott immediately froze in his seat, "Oh no." The doors flew upwards and Scott was surrounded in darkness. The only lights were those of the stupid chicken that wanted him dead all night. This was it. Freddy's lullaby music that he would play for the kids during the day echoed throughout the cold, empty room. The last thing he saw was a flash of yellow before everything went dark.

*    *    * 

In the corner of the parts and service room, a lone Freddy suit stood out among the other look-a-likes. Could it be from a mangled corpse that would be found inside of it a couple hours later? Could it be that it was just simply sitting on the floor?

Blood had oozed from every hole in the suit, the only trace of it being there was dried stains. If someone were to walk over there and touch it, the whole suit will make a large crackling noise like there was trapped oxygen stuck inside it.... As if someone or something took its very last breath before it died.

It lay in its very own pool of blood, the soft material soaking up as much as it can. The dim lights in the room didn't help the situation either, as it made the whole thing look twice as scary. The  extra Freddy Fazbear suit just sits there, not moving.

Lifeless.

Let's just hope that whoever died in there won't ever come back to life as an over-glorified, vengeance seeking spirit.