Not by the Strings, Please.

The End

Friendship.

Happiness.

Love.

The only components you needed to live a good life.

At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

We had a good night, at least. Chatting and sharing stories of our lives, reminiscing our past lives and our current victory. I spent the night under the Toys' friendly gazes, and within Mangle's loving and protective embrace. It was the perfect night.

Alas, not everything lasts forever.

The next day, the restaurant's doors were opened, but no children came in.

No laughing.

No cheering.

No singing.

It was only the loud clatter of a truck outside, then small shuffle of bills between men, and the indifferent chatter of large men in white work suits.

They came to the Prize Corner, lifting me up out of my box without hesitation and taking me out of the room.

Down the hall, into the dining area, and out the door.

When he had brought me outside, six other men hurried after him, each carting out one of the other five animatronics I had found myself attached to.

Each of us were thrown into the truck, mixed in with bits of metal and parts.

With a single loud clang, the truck roared to life.

I kept close to my friends the entire way.

I held Mangle's hand as she cried harder than she had ever done in her life. I kept my arms around Balloon Boy as he worried quietly over where we were headed. I gave the Toys friendly smiles as they simply sat in dead silence. And all the while, not one of us said a word.

When we reached the scrapyard, the doors on the truck were once again open, letting sunlight back onto our bodies. And even though this situation was among one of the most frightening, I wasn't shivering. I had decided to be brave.

For once I didn't want to cry.

For once I didn't want to hide.

For once I wasn't afraid.

And with that revelation, I made sure to stare directly into the sentient eyes of the workers without a single hesitation.

It was time to face my fear.

Toy Bonnie was the first to be taken from us, and his emerald green eyes were locked on me while he spent his time on the conveyor belt and down into the compactor. Next was Chica, who squeezed Mangle's hand in hers as a sign of comfort before she too accepted her fate. Freddy came next, patting me on the shoulder and smiling sadly. And like the other two before him, he fell down into the fires of the metal compactor, never to be seen again.

When the men came for Balloon Boy, he attached to me, his eyes darting frantically and his hands shaking. I grasped his hands in my own, and whispered to him that there would be a nice party down there with plenty of balloons and games to play. I told him it was safe, and that he shouldn't be afraid. They were lies, I know, but I didn't want him to feel the cold bite of fear. He didn't deserve it.

The balloon vendor stared a moment, considering my explanation before his grip loosened and two arms grasped his body and heaved him up onto the conveyor belt. As he grew farther and farther away from me, I made it a point to give him a smile. And with that, the balloon vendor returned my smile one last time, mouthing quietly,

"See you down there."

Mangle was the next target. She gripped me tightly, fearing I would disappear before it was her time. I hugged her back before brushing her cheek with my hand and giving her a smile. The fox sniffled, and gave me a smile in return. I could sense she was trying to be brave, but alas, the look disappeared as the workers approached.

As the men hauled her to the conveyor belt, she did not take her eye off me, and I sent her a smile the whole way.

I tried not to hear the awful grinding as she was destroyed more than she already was.

Now it was just me.

It was time.

And as the men lugged me up onto the belt, I felt strangely calm. Strangely happy. And I couldn't help but wonder why, even though the answer was so clear.

I wasn't alone.

In the short moments I had left, I thought about everything I had done with my life.

I remembered the children.

Their laughter, their innocence, and their smiles.

I remembered the Prize Corner.

The toys, the prizes, and the tickets.

But most importantly, I remembered the music box, whose tune got me through some hard times.

Thinking about its peaceful tune made me want to go to sleep early. That lighthearted melody...yes...I can hear it...

90 years without slumbering...

"Old puppet there blew up at some kid..."

His life seconds numbering...

"You an all yer little friends 'ave costed us everything..."

But it stopped short...

"You're very good company, you know?"

Never to go again...

"You have a kind heart, Marionette..."

When the old man died.