Not by the Strings, Please.

A Kill of My Own

I awoke with a horrendous pain in my head. My body was cold, and the room was dark. I subconsciously reached a hand up to my face and felt about. My three long fingers snaked up the smooth porcelain of my face, and I eventually found a shallow dent.

Touching it sent another wave of pain through my body. I sucked in a shaky breath, and forced myself up. Slowly opening my eyes, I found myself in the security office. I ceased movement, remembering what had happened previously in the night.

I cast out my hearing for any signs of life, and only heard the shuffling of the toy animatronics in another room. No breathing. No heartbeat. I looked around for a few more moments before I forced myself to my feet. Once I was standing steadily, a strange sensation on my body made me freeze. I looked down at myself, then took a small step forward. My body felt wet. No. Not exactly wet. Sticky. Yes. My body felt sticky. But why?

I reached a hand down to my chest and pressed into the fabric. And just as a sponge leaks when you squeeze it, a strange red fluid leaked out of my cloth skin. What was this mystery substance? I drew two fingers through the liquid that had pooled up on my body and held it to my eyes. It emitted a sour but familiar smell. It almost seemed like blood.

I stopped and snickered to myself. That was preposterous. This isn't blood. It couldn't be blood. The only way this would be blood if a human was severely hurt. And I would never hurt anyone. It's not what I was built for. No. This isn't blood. This must be a case of cherry juice that spilled...or something. It was going to be a pain to get this off my body, but oh well. I don't have anything better to do.

I looked backwards at the doorway to the office. Was it safe to leave? I swept my eyes over the wall of darkness in the doorway for the colored glows of the old idol's eyes, but found only the darkness of the hallway. They had gone. I could leave.

Stretching my arms, I took a step forward towards the door. Then something in the corner of my eye stopped me dead in my tracks. I nervously turned my head to investigate, and as soon as I saw what it was, I felt my body go cold.

The night guard lay in a pool of blood in the left corner of the room with his throat and eyes torn out. Those beautiful, alive green pearls were gone. And that smooth, flowing, human voice was gone, too.

It couldn't be.

It wasn't.

It's not real.

I'm hallucinating.

I did this. I killed the night guard. I let myself get out of control. I...I can't believe it. I'm like them now. I'm a murderer. A killer. A monster.

I looked down at my body. My lean, black body was saturated with the life-blood of an innocent human. I wish he was still alive. I wish he was still breathing so I could tell him how sorry I was. I wish I knew how to work the human devices so I could summon their help vehicles. Maybe they could save him. No. It was hopeless. He was dead and there was nothing I could do about it.

I backed up out of the room and into the darkness. Into the gloom so I couldn't see the blood on my hands and body. I took one last look at the ripped up body of the night guard before I sulked my way down the hall and into the Prize Corner.

The music box had long since ended its tune, and the room was masked in ominous silence. And I wanted it that way for once. I wanted to isolate myself and make up for my horrible deed. I had slaughtered the night guard in cold blood. I had taken a life. Nothing in the world could ever replace a life. Nothing.

I promised myself I would never be like the others. I promised to never end a life by my hands. And now those promises were broken, and I was left alone with my angst. Crouching down in front of my box, I buried my face in my hands. Then I cried.