Chapter Text
The room was your typical office. As offices are usually boring and dull, the person who owned this one in particular decided to spice things up a bit.
Dark grey walls matching the many, many places he owned. Beautiful maroon carpeting that was once a nice, warm grey. And dark wooden shelves fit with a matching desk in the middle of the room. A giant window placed directly behind a big, black chair.
It was all normal, of course.
Everything was normal... minus the person who owned the office.
William sighed, leaning his head against one of his hands. He fiddled with the top of a bright red folder that laid on his desk in front of him.
Something was bothering the poor man.
It was upsetting. So very, very upsetting that two of his employees had gotten caught in a fire.
A fire!
What a tragic thing to die from...
William stifled a laugh- who was he trying to kid right now!?
His employees dying was a week’s occurrence, it was nothing serious. Well, it killed the security guard there, think his name was Matt?
That didn’t matter, really. William cared more about the mechanic that was stationed there.
It was pure luck that the boy had survived that, and frankly he was the only one William didn’t want dead... not yet at least.
All those years would have gone to waste if he had died!
So much unmade potential that was just now surfacing... almost as much as his dear Micheal, sad that he left.
William heard a knock on the door, must be him.
Surprised that they even let the teenager out of the hospital this early, but thats all the better anyway.
He heard the knock again. “Come on in.” William gruffed.
The door slowly opened, someone’s head quickly peeking around the corner.
William gave him a smile. “There he is! How are you, Paxton?”
Paxton frowned, didn’t seem too happy did he?
“‘M bloody peachy.” he growled, clearly tired. His British accent was pretty heavily, didn't sleep well at the hospital did he..?
William watched the teenager walk into the room and holy shix he wasn’t expecting the damage to be that bad. He straightened his back, eyebrows raised.
Underneath the dull-coloured purple hoodie, the teen’s entire right arm was burnt. There were burns on the neck as well, probably connected with the one on the arm.
Guess the dog bite on his lip wasn’t the only scar he had now.
Paxton was always a little weird and different, with the strange grey eyes and sharp-ish teeth.
He did seem angry at William though. How upsetting.
+++
William lowered his hands to rest on the dark, wooden desk. He cleared his throat, “I know you just got out of the hospital a few days ago.” he said in the stupid deep 60 year old british voice he had.
Paxton’s eye twitched, staying painfully silent.
William continued. “You’re moving to a new location. It’s a little closer to your house and a little bit bigger, but you can handle it.”
Paxton wanted to scream. He wanted to throw this man out the goddamn window behind him.
Mark died in that fire. The year-long friendship was broken just like that, and this prune thinks he’ll just move on to another location!?
Paxton cleared his throat. “I- Totally, gotcha. Mhm.”
Go die in a goddamn hole ya’ wanker motherfucker.
William either completely missed or just ignored the agitated tone and clearly pissed off expression the teen had.
Both options painstakingly possible.
The man pressed his fingers onto a bright red folder, sliding it across the desk.
Paxton hesitated, was he trying to hand him it or something?
He waited a few moments for anything else Afton might say, before reaching his right hand out and picking it up.
The red matched the deepened browns and maroon reds of his burnt hand. How sad and slightly traumatising!
Paxton looked back up to Williams sharp, brown eyes, “I assume you know where the place is..?” William said, quiet and stern.
Paxton bit his lip. He had no clue what the fuck this bloke was talking about.
Paxton gulped. “Yeah-! Yeah, I do.” he muttered, dragging the folder into his arms.
Was it the same one William talked about before the fire happened? That one job he’d refused because it was checking every animatronic for bugs ‘n shit? Paxton was a bloody mechanic, not a coder or something.
“The one big job right?” Paxton asked, tilting his head.
William nodded, amused. “The one you refused to do, yes.” he gruffed.
Paxton scoffed, a frown on his face. “I didn’t refuse it!” he argued. “I just didn’t have time for it.” That was a complete lie. He had openly refused doing it because again, he doesn’t do coding.
Paxton went to other places to fix animatronics with mechanical issues, not fucking code!
William narrowed his eyes down, the grumpy arse face of his seemed to get more angry every time he’d come back here.
“Whatever the case is, you’re going there now.” Afton said. “And staying.” William had deepened his tone at the last moment, the stern voice pretty compelling and pretty damn scary.
Paxton gulped, he wasn’t no bloody dolt or scardy cat but that man sure had a terrifying fucking glare. You don't fuck with the main man of the company.
Paxton only got off easy with being so... blunt with Mr. Afton because Afton kinda liked him. He thinks.
He raised his eyebrows, forcing on an unamused look greatly contrasting to his very horrified thoughts.
William closed his eyes, waving his hand dismissively. “All right, off you go then.” he monotoned.
Paxton looked annoyed, and very much was.
He turned around, clutching the folder in hand, and walked on the ugly ass carpeted floor towards the door. Pretty sure when he was younger that shit was grey. Paxton gripped the cold silver handle, it tingled and stung a little against the burnt skin.
He took a glance back at Mr. Afton.
William was behind his desk, looking out the window like the dramatic little shit he was, hough he'd never day it to the man's face.
Paxton frowned, walked out and closed the old rickety door.
He immediately laid his back against the door, gripping the red folder close to his chest.
Why did he torture himself like this?
Because he'd be tortured either way.
+++
Oh.
Shit.
This is a little bigger than the other one huh?
Paxton gazed up at the tan-bricked building.
It had two small pillars on the outside with an arched entrance, a red line going around the whole thing.
The classic sign hung above the arch, except the animatronics looked kinda like actual humanoid animals instead of the regular creepy arse faces they normaly had.
That was new. This looks more like an actual restaurant than a crappy Freddy Fazbears.
Maybe they had a bigger budget or something here.
Paxton walked up to the giant glass door, gripping the knob and attempting to twist it. It did not even turn.
He groaned, and stuck his hand inside his hoodie’s pocket.
Paxton dragged out a small silver key, and violently shoved it inside the doorknob. After about a minute of jangeling the stupid knob, it opened with a click.
“Bloody hell.“ Paxton scoffed, throwing the key back into the hoodie pocket.
He opened the door and was quite surprised at the interior.
The front desk was a half circle, ending off at two big arches on either side.
The walls were the same as all the other pizzeria’s, with the chequered pattern about waist-height and darkish, grey walls.
Paxton frowned, looking down the very, very dark right archway.
It was pitch black, this place was fucking huge.
He walked directly under the archway, squinting down into the darkness.
A light had flickered on in the distance, a hallway barely taking shape.
The light was so dim- how did the guard even see the animatronics with that?
A sudden realisation popped into his head.
Paxton groaned, slapping a hand against his face. There's a security guard here, fantastic.
He hesitated before reluctantly stepping into the dark abyss.
“The fuck?” Paxton muttered, squinting his eyes in the dark.
Apparently the room bent the laws of light physics or some shit because he could see stuff while being inside the room, but not out of it?
There were sets of tables lined up evenly infront of a giant fuckin' stage taking up a whole wall. On either side of the stage, much like the front desk, there were two archways, damn this place had a lot of those.
They probably led to the security office where the flickering lights where earlier.
Also where a fucking blood-curtaling scream came from, followed by the all too familiar shutting of a door.
Paxton frowned, looking to his left.
In the corner, there was a small circular stage, a purple curtain covering it. He assumed that’s where Foxy was, that bastard.
Mark always hated Foxy, and Foxy was the most agressive and fucking fast as hell so Paxton also hated Foxy.
Beside it was another bloody archway, probably to the kitchens.
On the right side, past all the tables and shit, two more archways probably leading to the bathrooms. This place has too many fucking arches- it made his head hurt.
Paxton rolled his eyes with a groan, turning his attention to the stage.
Two barely visible silhouettes of a certain bloody rabbit and stupid ass bear stood in their places, although the suits seemed a bit different from what he could tell.
Paxton remembered what happened at the last place every single bloody night, a sense of fear and anger swelled in his stomach.
Those animatronics were violent, immediately attacking anyone they saw late at night. He was glad those burnt to a crisp.
Paxton narrowed his eyes... wait- where the fuck was Chica?
Anxiety started clawing at his mind, slowly processing what this meant. Holy shit it was the night shift right now. How did he not realise that?
Through the darkness something on the stage had suddenly moved.
His eyes darted up, glaring straight at Freddy’s, whose own were slowly opening like the menacing little shit it was. They glowed a bright orange, illuminating the detailed fur on its head.
Why the bloody hell were its eyes orange, and why the fuck did it have fur? The other ones didn’t have fur! Why did these FUCKS have FUR!?
Paxton stilled, ready to spring away if he had to. Maybe Freddy didn’t see him. Maybe it wouldn’t launch off the stage and punch his head in or try to bite it off or something.
But for some reason Freddy just stared at him. It knew Paxton was there, but didn’t act.
Paxton knew they had a coding issue, but if this was it he was for sure going to bloody keep it! Animatronics not immidietly attacking after seeing a human and trying to rip their throat out? That's a good fucking glitch.
Paxton slowly took a step to the left, edging his way toward the security room, which was like twenty feet away in his very humble opinion.
Freddy’s eyes followed him. He could fucking see the orange pupils.
Paxton hesitently took another step, hearing the slight echo around the room.
It’s head slowly bloody tilted like it was confused or some shit. What? Don't like him being slow? Fuck off.
Paxton took a deep breath in. He cautiously looked away from the robot, and instead at the hallway in-front of him.
Okay.
About a years experience of running from these fuckers comes in handy at times like these.
Paxton took one last regretful glance at the animatronic before sprinting down the hallway.
He was barely halfway in before he heard and barely saw the door close with a panicked shout.
Oh. He probably sounded like Foxy.
Though at the same time if he was active, wouldn’t there be more than just Chica around gone?
“G-GET AWAY-!” Paxton heard screamed from the room. He couldn't tell if that was a girl or a boy yelling which kinda sucked.
His heart skipped a beat though, was the security guard in trouble?
Paxton quickly ran up to the window embedded inside the right wall. He couldn’t even see through it because of the layers of dust and grubby children’s fingerprints all over it!
Bloody hell- what the fuck was with these places and cleaning?
He pressed his burnt hand on the glass, about to wipe away the layers of dust with no problem... and quickly regretted it. The dust had instantly stuck to his hand without any movement needed.
What the actual fuck!? It was like fucking glue!
Paxton grimaced, taking her hand off the window and scraping the dust onto the wall below. Some still stuck to his hand and inside the burnt creases and charred skin but that was okay.
Another scream suddenly erupted from the room, making his head snap back up.
This guy could yell- or was it a girl?
Paxton shook her head and squinted at the glass, still barely being able to make out the figures in the room.
Figures. That worried him. Something else in the room with the motherfucking guard!?
Paxtons eyes widened, his breath catching.
Paxton cupped his hands around his mouth. “H- HEY! ‘S ANYONE IN THERE!?” he shouted, a worried tone in his voice.
Someone shouted back. “YES! YES SOMEONE'S HERE- HELP!” the guard yelled, “THESE ROBOTS ARE GOING NUTS!”
Paxton fought the urge to say they weren’t robots but animatronics, but was quickly interrupted anyway.
There was a loud ass clang mixed with a thump, another scream coming from the office.
Paxton panicked and looked at the metal door separating the two.
“CAN YOU OPEN THE DOOR!?” he yelled.
Paxton heard no response, what sounded to be like muffled, gargled shouts replacing what should have been some bloody words!
A horrible reality dawned on him.
This man was going to die.
He went to bang on the door, the charred hand stung as it hit the cold metal.
Paxton tried again. “HELLO? CAN YOU OPEN THE DOO-” he was cut off.
There was an agonising scream, much louder than the ones before.
It interrupted his speech so suddenly.
Paxton stumbled back from the door, immediately clamping his hands to his ears.
He squeezed his eyes shut as ripping and tearing sounded. The screams grew gargled and muffled like he was being drowned by a waterfall.
Paxton practically tripped backward, his back hitting the wall behind him.
His ears were ringing quite horribly, the echoes of shouts and god awful sounds spiraling through his head.
Paxton noticed his body was violently shaking, muscles were tense and clamped up like some sort of bloody child.
He was a child, stop forgetting that.
Paxton took in short, shaky breaths barely possible against the tightness and hyperventilation of his lungs.
He could feel every single burn sting and tingle- every scar and every wound suddenly became aware and noticeable.
Paxton felt a sudden pressure press against his body, her arm flared horribly with pain, fingers desperately clenching around his ear.
He could smell smoke. Why can he smell smoke- he couldn’t smell!
His body was burning. It hurt.
Make it stop. He didn’t want to feel this again.
This wasn’t happening.
This couldn’t happen again.
Mark's dying and he can’t do anything about it- wait. No he isn’t, he’s already dead!
Get a hold of yourself! But it hurts.
He couldn’t move, why couldn’t he move? He was just able to move before.
Stop panicking! He needs to calm down. Panic- stop panicking.
Paxton felt as if he couldn’t breathe, his throat burned with the sensation of smoke and ash going into his lungs again.
Why couldn’t he calm down- he didn’t understand why he couldn’t calm down.
It was painful, horribly painful and he wanted it to stop.
Paxton blinked, it was so dark in this place. That was good, that meant he wasn’t in the fire.
But what if the fire wasn’t admitting any light?
No- what the bloody hell was he on about? That’s stupid.
Paxton smiled, shaking and barely holding it but he couldn’t stop smiling.
It was funny how stupid he was sometimes.
He heard footsteps. The panic came back- like it ever even bloody left, as something came closer.
Two dark feet- no, paws stopped in front of him. It was hard to see what exactly they were, but he could tell they were fluffy and some sort of purple.
It was Bonnie. Of course it was an animatronic.
He was going to die now, wasn’t he?
Paxton survived a fire to die by a purple rabbit, bloody hell his life was fucked up wasn’t it?
He was pathetic, shaking and letting tears rolling down his face, curled up in a ball on the dirty ares floor.
Paxton waited... and waited, but Bonnie did nothing but stare.
The animatronic turned, and walked away.
Paxton sat there, somehow thankful of a dumb, purple rabbit.
+++
The noises had stopped.
Paxton couldn’t smell the smoke any more.
Don’t be an idiot, of course he couldn’t- he could never smell in the first place.
Paxton’s hands were shakily lowered off his ears, clutching the fabric of his black sweatpants.
He listened. It was the only thing he could do well- better than anyone else.
He listened for anything.
Any sign of life.
He sighed, he knew he had to move at some bloody point.
Paxton slowly detached himself from the wall, getting off the dirty ass floor.
He took a deep breath, gently forcing a grin onto his face.
“Well!” Paxton muttered, “I have to call the police.”
Paxton’s eyes immediately had darted to the window, the colours had changed to be a lot more red than normal.
“Scratch that,” he added. “999.”
Paxton, being a complete bloke and a very big dumbass reached into his hoodie pocket grabbing at nothing but the tiny, silver key.
“I do not have a phone.” he grumbled, sounding a little too cheerful for what had just happened.
Paxton turned his head towards the distant moonlight of the glass door.
He had to go find a phone.
Great.
Paxton grinned, forcefully, and a little bit painfully, shoving both of her hands into the pocket.
He looked down at the floor, watching every single step he took over the scattered confetti and gross arse pepperoni slices scattered about.
Paxton had eventually reached the front area. He looked at the counter.
There was no phone on the desk.
Paxton clambered over the counter, losing footing and quickly falling face-first onto the dirt-covered floor.
He pulled himself up, head peaking over the top and absolutely covered with confetti. Paxton hated confetti, but there were more important things at the moment.
He looked under the counter.
There was no phone.
“Does this place not have a bloody phone?” Paxton scowled under his breath. That was a hazard wasn’t it?
He popped her head up from under the counter with a sudden stroke of genius.
The security office. It’ll have a phone, that was required if he remembered correctly!
Paxton’l just have to go past the very, very dead body in there.
Okay... he can do this.
Paxton rolled over the counter, instantly springing back up.
She can so do this! Just walk to the hallway.
Paxton didn’t feel his body moving.
Come on...
His body was frozen in place, he didn’t want to go back.
COME ON!
Paxton clenched his teeth, forcing a foot forward.
He had been through literal hell and back- hell being a burnt building! This will most likely not be the last dead body he’ll see, especially at Freddy’s.
Paxton gulped, a shiver going up his spine, very bad, distant memories of the former location flooding his brain.
The animatronics at his old location were fucking violent and fucking brutal.
Paxton had walked forward, mind focused on her thoughts.
They were absolutely horrible at her location. Horrible, murderous, lifeless animatronics. Their eyes black with fucking tiny little white dots. That scared the shit out of him.
He didn’t even get why those things attacked him! Or Mark!
Paxton stopped in front of the window. He did not look into it again. Instead, he noticed the orangeish-yellow hue of light going into the hallway.
Wait- wasn’t the door closed earlier?
Paxton cautiously took a step forward, peeking her head around the corner.
Oh. Oh- bloody hell!
He wanted to throw himself off the roof. His eyes widened, a rush of fear jolting through his body, making it jump.
The man was ginger!
Also the horrabily mangled body of the guard laid smack dab in the middle of the room.
One of the bloody arms was bent backwards.
Holy shit- the motherfwacking ripping sound was from the sleeves on his uniform being contorted in a way they were never supposed to be.
The head was snapped, his throat was twisted and squeezed. Blood came out from the mouth, which was covered by the floor thank god.
What scared Paxton the most was the eyes.
They were lifeless, dulled, and scared all at the same time... it was horrible to look at.
The guard’s right hand was reached out right and bloodied, like he was trying to reach for the door.
Why Paxton was not panicking about this as much as he should be he had no idea.
Paxton chuckled out of the awkward and nervous situation. “Know what he was choking on now.” he muttered.
Paxton felt horrified saying it out loud, but at the same time he fought fear with comedy so it wasn’t exactly out of the blue for him.
He scolded himself for being so fucking weird sometimes.
Paxton stepped over the blood that leaked out from the mutilated, dishealved body.
He attempted to ignore it and reached the desk. Small monitors stacked on top of each other, a specialised keyboard attaching to atleast one of them.
It was otherwise a complete fucking mess, shit thrown about in either a desperate attempt to defend one’s self or just a mental breakdown.
Most likely both.
Paxton made his way over to the thing he’d come into here for, pressing the three buttons that mattered.